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Solana Ruarc MacCraith

@solanarmaccraith.bsky.social

340 followers 720 following 690 posts

Parody/Role play account for OC. AI media is mine. Just me, weaving threads & getting way too invested in fictional people. #WovenByMC #SoloSL #TheOriginalsFandom

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Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · May 19

Magic bound before her first breath.
Name erased. Bloodline hunted.
She didn’t beg to survive—she bit down and did.

Quiet doesn’t mean tame.
She remembers in fragments and fights on instinct.
Legacy burns beneath her skin.
Still standing. Still dangerous.

#Threadbound

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Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

bsky.app/profile/sola...

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

⚜️ What Lingers After

Some echoes don’t fade.
They settle beneath the skin—
half memory, half warning,
all the things he swore he’d never feel again.

#ChasingEchoes
#Threadbound

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus stood staring at his hand again. The faint echo of her pulse still thrummed beneath his skin, too deep to wash away.

He dipped the brush again and whispered, almost to himself,
“I felt you.”

Then he wiped the paint from his palm like it might bleed through.

⚜️✔️

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus didn’t answer. He turned back to the canvas, brush dragging a slow stroke of red through the storm.

When Elijah left him, the quiet returned — heavier now, alive with something unnamed.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Elijah’s expression shifted, subtle, knowing, the faintest ache behind his eyes.

Klaus reached for his glass, reclaiming the distance between them with one swallow. “Don’t romanticize it, brother. Familiarity can be a curse.”

Elijah’s reply came with the ghost of a smile. “And yet, you paint it.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

…of a city pretending not to listen.

Finally, he looked down at his palm — the same hand that had met Solana’s wrist. The skin there still felt too alive.

He flexed it once. Exhaled.

“Familiar,” he said quietly. “Like something I’d forgotten how to miss.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus froze.

His hand tightened on the edge of the easel. “You sound like Freya now.”

“Freya deals in theory,” Elijah said evenly. “I deal in truth. What did you feel, Niklaus?”

For a long time, Klaus said nothing. The morning swelled around them — birds calling outside the windows, the low hum…

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus scoffed under his breath. “And yet it comes crawling back. A thousand years later, it lands on my doorstep.”

“Not magic,” Elijah corrected softly. “Blood.”

Klaus’s jaw worked. “You think I don’t know the difference?”

Elijah’s voice dropped. “I think you felt it, when she touched you.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus leaned back in his chair, the weight of that truth pressing between his shoulder blades. “Or she did, and feared it.”

“Perhaps,” Elijah said. “Siv was secretive, by every account. If she feared what Dahlia became, she might have buried everything that tied her magic to the living world.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Our mother drew it once, years ago. She said it belonged to her mother’s line.”

Klaus’s gaze flicked upward. “You saw it?”

“In Esther’s journal,” Elijah nodded. “Half a sketch at best. The tree, the blooms — but never the blood at its root. I think even she didn’t understand what she’d inherited.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Elijah smiled faintly. “You’ve said that before. It rarely ends the way you imagine.”

Klaus gave a quiet, humorless huff. “This one is different.”

“She carries our grandmother’s blood,” Elijah said. “Whether you choose to believe her or not, the mark is unmistakably MacCraith.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus didn’t answer. He set the brush down, knuckles white around its handle before he released it.

“You think she’s a threat,” Elijah said. “Yet you haven’t driven her out.”

“I’m still considering the most efficient method,” Klaus muttered.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

“You’re here to scold, or to speculate?”

Elijah’s tone was mild. “Neither. To observe, perhaps.”

He came closer, studying the painting. “You don’t usually paint questions.”

Klaus’s jaw twitched. “I paint what won’t leave my head.”

“And does she linger there now?”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

He moved like morning itself: controlled, unbroken. His eyes took in the canvas, the whiskey glass, and his brother’s restless energy with equal precision.

“You’re up early,” Elijah said.

“I never went to bed,” Klaus replied without looking up. The brush paused mid-stroke.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

He hadn’t slept. He never did when the world shifted beneath his feet.

His door creaked open. Measured footsteps crossed the old rug—unhurried, deliberate.

Elijah.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

…another, red cutting through gray like arteries.

His brush moved without aim, guided more by pulse than thought.

He wasn’t painting her, not exactly. But she lingered in every line.
The mark on her wrist.
The tremor in his hand.
The silence that had followed her name.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus stood in his quarters, back from the canvas, looking. Pondering.

The room smelled of turpentine and old ghosts—paint-streaked drop cloths underfoot, half-finished canvases stacked against the walls. An unfinished piece leaned before him now, violent in color: storm hues bleeding into one…

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Morning crept slow over the Quarter, soft light bleeding through ironwork and hanging moss. The city was already alive somewhere beyond the compound walls, but inside, it was the quiet kind of morning — the one that follows chaos and dares not speak of it.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

⚜️ What Lingers After

Some echoes don’t fade.
They settle beneath the skin—
half memory, half warning,
all the things he swore he’d never feel again.

#ChasingEchoes
#Threadbound

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

bsky.app/profile/sola...

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

⚜️ Blood Recognizes Blood

Old blood remembers.
Even when centuries try to bury it.
Roots find roots.
And power answers to its own name.

#ChasingEchoes
#Threadbound

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Something in Elijah’s expression shifted—the ghost of a smile, the ache of recognition.

“Then perhaps,” he said softly, “you’re exactly where you belong.”

⚜️✔️

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Elijah was the last to move. He studied Solana for a long moment before speaking.

“You were brave,” he said gently. “He doesn’t make it easy.”

Solana’s lips curved faintly, humorless. “Neither does the world.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Hayley passed her on the way upstairs, giving her shoulder a brief, steadying touch. Not a welcome — but not nothing.

Freya lingered a heartbeat longer, her eyes soft but shadowed with memory. “That magic doesn’t lie,” she said quietly. “Whatever else happens…you’ve been found.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus turned away at last, steps slow. He reached the archway before he paused — didn’t look back.

“You better be who you say you are.”

Then he was gone.

Solana stayed where she was, the faint glow of her mark still softly glowing.

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

“I wasn’t asking,” Elijah added, voice smooth as glass but immovable. “She stays.”

Hayley nodded. “I’ll get her a room.”

“I don’t need—” Solana began.

“You do,” Hayley interrupted. “Trust me. This place will eat you alive even if you sleep with one eye open.”

Solana Ruarc MacCraith @solanarmaccraith.bsky.social · 1d

Klaus stood motionless, his expression unreadable. But the stillness wasn’t rage anymore. It was the kind that comes before surrender — or acceptance.

Elijah broke the tension first. “She stays,” he said simply.

Klaus’s jaw flexed.