#bear in mind she'd be like. 5 in human years

[hercarisntyours]

I once again dreamt about the oplita sparkling but these time is was lowkey angsty because megatron had kidnapped her to get to optimus and elita but he took one look at her in the kidnap cage thingy and basically went "that's my niece" and couldn't do anything but play tea party with her

[zalrb]

Saint {elena/stefan/katherine pt. 7}

It's long and hopefully messy af. Hope you enjoy! The gif limit pisses me off, lololol.

Link to part 1: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/707929608286240768/toxic-elenastefankatherine-fic

Link to part 2: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/709460774203064320/valentines-day-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-2

Link to part 3: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/709838031967879168/choices-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-3

Link to part 4: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/710274615200628736/blood-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-4

Link to part 5: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/710584105290579968/boundaries-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-5

Link to part 6: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/733086688201654273/kill-elenastefankatherine-fic-part-6

Stefan Salvatore was walking. Haunting the night. Skulking the shadows. The way a vampire should, he supposed.

All of Mystic Falls seemed to be sleeping or at the very least, shut away in their homes, leaving him the freedom to brood in the open air. He had to have walked the entire town at least once by now. It felt that way, anyway. But he couldn't stop moving, walking, running. Couldn't stop trying to outstrip his own thoughts.

Really, he was ready to be bored. To evolve. He was ready to just be done. Over the years, when he’d come across other men who had fallen prey to Katherine Pierce – tomb vampires, Elijah, Mason — he had pitied them, having had been a victim to her once himself but no longer a fool to her sway. It was all in the past. Even when they’d slept together years after she'd returned to his life, he hadn’t been twisted up or lovesick. It had been a contained moment. He had evolved from her then. So, he didn’t know why he felt like this now. Why she had her claws in him now. Why he couldn’t seem to get enough now.

He didn’t love her. That much he knew. Not after everything she’d done to him, the lies and the deceit, the violence, the manipulation; she’d stolen his human life and had done her utmost to ruin his vampire one so that he only had her to rely on. But more than that, he couldn’t love her. That was the important part. He couldn’t love her after knowing what true love felt like, not after knowing what Elena felt like, her blood, her touch, her kiss, her voice. For all the lifetimes he lived and would live, he knew that nothing could or would ever eclipse that. Loving Katherine wasn’t the problem.

And yet. She had been gone for fourteen days and he felt those fourteen days in his skin. He wanted to forget her --- his mind, his heart, his conscience all wanted to forget her, but his body was in a tragic, despicable need. His lust, his anger, his resentment, his ego, they all fed off the poison in his interactions with her and they were, waiting, in frenzy, for another hit before he was swallowed with shame for the feelings that came out when he was with her.

He drew some dark, vicious satisfaction from the fact that Katherine had to be more of a mess than him. He may have been craving her but he knew that she was fiending for him. In an attempt to punish him, she was torturing herself and thinking of her, tormented in her self-appointed denial of him, only served to arouse him.  He hated that. God, he hated her. Above all, he hated himself. His craving was tinged by disgust, his yearning accented by hate, he was in a repulsive, unsavoury state of being, that left him wired and strung out and even mired in all of this, missing Elena.

He’d been avoiding her. Avoiding hurting her. Avoiding scaring her. She had seen him at his lowest and he had told her about the worst parts of himself, she had seen his worst parts, his capacity for danger, for cruelty, the things about himself that brought him the most shame and remorse, and she’d never judged him. No, she’d understood, offered sympathy, gave him grace, gave him her love and that was why he couldn’t bear to see her when he was sick with another woman. The woman who had cursed him with her love. It was an insult. 

Suddenly, Stefan stopped walking.  He heard ... it sounded like ... those words ... that tone ... In the distance, he could see a cross perched above a steeple. It ... what he heard ... he couldn't block it out ... it was coming from that direction.

He heard it again.

His heartbeat quickened with dreadful anticipation. He wanted nothing less than to see who that voice belonged to and yet the promise of a reunion stoked in him a furious lust or lustful fury, he wasn't sure which. He should be smart. He should be strong. He should --- 

But his feet took him to the church. 

The sanctuary was only lit by candles so it was dark and quiet. The sound of his footsteps was the only thing he could hear until ---

A voice, breathy and whiny with need. "But the thing is, Father, I haven’t seen him in … weeks …” “And I’m just so … so hor --- tightly wound. For him. But I just …” Quickened breathing. “I just need some kind of relief. Please. Do you think you can help me? Do you think you can help a child in need? Please?”

It was an instinct he would do anything to curb, but Stefan sped over to the confessional and wrenched open the door. He didn't know what he expected to see. If there'd be a priest in a compromising position or dead or compelled or ... he didn’t know, he just knew he had to see. There was no one inside.  Suddenly, Katherine was behind him in a black dress accented by a long rosary draped around her neck in layers, and a smirk on her face. 

"Fancy seeing you here," she said.

Stefan grabbed her then turned and pushed Katherine hard against the carved, ornate wall of the confessional. 

"Stop messing with me!"

"Were you angry that you thought I was corrupting a man of God or were you jealous because you thought I was with another man at all?"

Neither. Both. She was toying with him and he was in no mood. And yet he was. Stefan could feel his fangs itch. His blood boil.

"Who did you want to kill, me or him?"

His jaw clenched. She always asked that question. He never answered. He would not give her the satisfaction of admitting anything. 

“God, you’re just revving to go, aren’t you?” 

“That why you disappeared, huh?” he asked. “Again?”

His anger sounded desperate even to his own ears. God, he wanted to kill this feeling.

“Sometimes it’s good to remind you that you want this as much as I do,” said Katherine. “That you go feral when you don’t have access to me.” 

"So then, how did you know I'd be out? How did you know I'd come here?"

Katherine looked at him with mock sympathy. "Stefan, Stefan, Stefan," she said. "I lured you here. All those late night walks you take."

He blinked at her. Her expression was smug and satisfied --- it was the face of triumph, of a winner, and yet she did nothing to move from his grip on her throat. As ever, he didn’t know if that meant he was in control or if it was her. Stefan let her go and backed away.

She walked toward him, slowly unravelling the rosary twirled around her neck. "You really think I would've left you alone for two weeks?" She pulled a face. "You think I wouldn't want to see my handiwork? All that tension, all that need?” She shivered at the anticipation of Stefan unleashing all of that on her. “I've been watching you this entire time."

He wanted to seize her and break her and kiss her and lay her bare.

Stefan looked at  the rosary, now hanging loose around her neck. "Little theatrical don't you think?" he said, glancing around the church, at the confessional, the candles, the stained glass windows.

"I like making an impression. This is the perfect place for you. All that guilt?" She put a hand on his cheek and he tensed. "Want to add a little more?"

"What game are you playing?"

"Doesn't matter." She ran a finger across his lips. "I know you want to play with me. Maybe that can be your first confession. What's it going to be, saint or sinner?" 

He caught her finger between his teeth, and Katherine nearly convulsed. It took all the control she had to keep from launching herself at him, to keep from begging him to relieve the frustration she'd been suffering from for fourteen days.

It had been a persistent ache that had driven her to the point of humiliating neediness, where she did everything she could, used everything she could think of to rid herself of the pulsing desire that could only be satiated by the man in front of her. And he was going to completely undo her with a simple act.

Stefan closed his eyes. What was he doing? How was this his life? Why couldn't he stop? He needed to stop. He --

"There's nothing I'd ever confess to you," he said.

Katherine draped the rosary around Stefan as well. "I'd expect nothing less than you wanting me on my knees, begging you for absolution." She pulled the rosary tight around his neck, choking him, using it to pull him forward, to pull him toward her, so they were a breath away from each other, so close her lips brushed against his when she spoke.

"Shall we begin?" She gestured to the confessional.

Stefan didn't answer. He didn't move. He just stayed where he was, letting the beads dig into his skin. The moment he thought he heard her voice on the wind, he knew that he would succumb to whatever was going to happen next. He would fight and battle, and he would hate himself for it, but ultimately he would succumb. He knew that. She knew that. He wondered, then, if it would give him peace, even momentarily, if he did more than succumb for the night but if he actually gave in. If he admitted what this did to him, that it excited him. Would that soothe something in him, would that give him the relief, the release, he needed to be set free? Could he move on, could he sleep, could he face himself, could he face Elena, could he tear away from the intoxication of toxicity if he just ... ... confessed?

“I’m not a saint.” He glared at her before freeing himself from her beaded prison and stepping into the side of the confessional for the and closing the curtain behind him. 

Katherine flushed. “Oh, I do love a surprise,” she said, before stepping into the box herself and closing the door behind her. 

*

Elena just made it onto campus and felt glad that Bonnie and Caroline had refrained from moving back because she didn’t know if she was going to scream or if she was going to cry when she got to her room, and she wanted to be alone to figure it out. 

She was barely inside her dorm before she heard, "Do you want to know what's so perfect?”

Elena turned on the light and saw Damon sitting on her bed, a drink in hand. The books and grimoires she went to sleep reading and re-reading to find that one overlooked line or detail about how to permanently kill Katherine Pierce so that she was gone gone, not other-dimension gone, were on the floor. She threw her head back.  

“I thought you outgrew this, Damon.” 

“Uh…” Damon shook his head, trying to find words. “Let’s say alcohol makes me emotionally regress.” 

Elena closed the door behind her. “Right.”

“I’m surprised you’re here actually. I thought you’d be out stalking your ex boyfriend.” 

“I know exactly where he is,” said Elena quietly. “I know exactly who he’s with.” 

The church. Doing God knows what with her. It was a bit of a sick joke. Elena had been keeping tabs on Katherine who had been keeping tabs on Stefan, which meant that Elena had been following him too, skulking after him the way Katherine did, the way she had always done. He’d told her about how she’d checked in on him over the years and even at the time he’d told her, when they’d been together, Elena understood how and why Katherine would do that, how and why she’d just need a glimpse of him to see how he was doing. It was Stefan after all. Not knowing where he was or how he was doing her summer before college had weighed on Elena like a pebble lodged in her mind. And now she was in a place where she couldn’t help but check in on him. For two weeks, Stefan had avoided her. Avoided everyone. And she had allowed him his privacy only because she’d known where he was. 

Damon chuckled. “Perfect transition. So, again, do you know what’s so perfect?”

“What, Damon? What’s so perfect?”

"You and Stefan, the great love story, the great romance, and your love is never enough."

Elena closed her eyes and sighed. “I really don’t feel like playing this game tonight.” 

"No, but just think about it.” He put his glass on the bedside table and then put his hands behind his head. “He loved you and yet he left you to save me. You loved him, you chose him, but ended up with me. Why do you think that is? You two just love each other too much to be together permanently? You always have to leave?”

“But I never really did leave him, did I?”

Damon did nothing but glare.

Elena leaned against a dresser. “I never left him,” she said again. “And he never really left me. Even when it hurt. Even when we tried.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “Why else would we still be in each other’s lives? Don’t you think I know how desperate this looks, how pathetic I must look to everyone? After hearing them, after seeing them? Don’t you think I know anyone else would’ve walked away? But it’s still the same, I can’t give up. And neither could he.”

“He didn’t fight for you. Not when you chose me.” 

“He respected my choice,” said Elena. “But he never left me,” she said, shaking her head. “So, why do you think that is?” 

Damon scoffed. “Feels like he finally is giving up.”

“This is a phase. Some kind of revenge.” 

Damon raised his eyebrows. "You think he's sleeping with her to hurt you back?"

"Stefan doesn't do that. He isn't---"

"What? Me?" Damon grinned. "That's the problem."

Elena muttered beneath her breath. "Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said? That's what you want the problem to be."

Damon put his hand to his chest. "Ouch."

Elena sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Damon, this really isn't---"

"You've said a lot of things over the years that have hurt me," he said, swirling the whisky in his glass.

Elena blinked temporarily wrong-footed. "I..." She took a breath. "I'm sorry."

"Stefan's never experienced that."

"You just asked me if I thought he was with Katherine," she could barely say her name, "to hurt me back. How can you also think I've never hurt him? Especially after everything between the three of us?"

"Doesn't count. Extraordinary circumstances."

Elena furrowed her eyebrows. "What other reason would there possibly be for me to hurt him?"

"What reasons were there for you to hurt me?" Damon took a sip of his drink. "You've been casually cruel, you've manipulated me. You couldn't stand to do that to Stefan," he said in a tone that was somewhere between smug and bitter. "You can't bear to see him in pain and that's the beauty in all of this."

Elena looked at him, incredulous. "Damon, I don't---"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? You can't save Stefan from this. You can't keep him from Katherine."

"You're wrong," she said simply.

"You love him too much," Damon said. "He loves you too much. It's too pure."

She shook her head. "That's ridiculous."

Damon laughed humourlessly. "Stefan isn't a saint and you've never been able to accept that."

"No, no,” she said, walking up to him, her index finger pointed. “I've always known that Stefan has a dark side, OK? I've seen it. I've faced it," she insisted. "I just think that he's more than the worst thing he ever did! So does he!"

Damon gestured triumphantly. "And that's exactly why you're losing. You two always bettering each other, pushing each other, protecting each other." He took on a mocking tone. "Trying to find the rainbows and the puppies and the silver lining." He rolled his eyes. "He's revelling with Katherine in the parts of himself he hates, that he tries to ignore or tries to better. You two could never do that."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you revelled with me. You tasted blood with me. You killed because of me."

"Because of the sire bond."

"Which part?"

Elena brushed her hair away from her face but said nothing. Damon nodded.

"Casually cruel even in your silence. You have no problem hurting me. You have no problem hating me. The truth is, you know how addictive it is, what Stefan is doing." 

Elena narrowed her. "I was never addicted to you."

"The sex dreams you've had about me beg to differ."

She scoffed. "That was different than what's happening to Stefan now."

"Because it's Stefan. He doesn't half-ass anything, my brother, he goes full throttle. All or nothing. He's not just addicted to Katherine, he's obsessed with her."

Elena winced.

"And that fucking torments you, right?" said Damon.  "But you still can't hate him for it. You still can't want to kill him for that. You can't give him what he---"

"That isn't what he needs," said Elena sharply

"But it's what he wants," said Damon. "He wants to be feral and savage. He wants to be a vampire. And you can't give him what he wants this time." He drained his glass. "Call it karma."

“I don’t believe that,” said Elena. 

Damon looked at her, a vindictive grin on his face. “Then why did you leave the church?”

Elena furrowed her eyebrows. “How did you know that’s where they were?”

“The question is, do you want to go back?”

***

Katherine had never been more exhilarated. She heard Stefan on the other side, heard the unbuckling of his belt, heard his zipper, heard him shift; when she’d moaned and whimpered, he’d pressed himself against the wall, she was sure of it, and that made her flush with arousal.  She could hear the faint whispers under his breath, his self-admonishments, his curses of pleasure, his need for release that sickened him and she encouraged his tortured desire with unadulterated excitement as she let him know she couldn’t help herself, that she never could. Through the grate she could see that deliciously anguished expression as he reacted to her words, her noises. She sighed loudly. He responded in kind. 

“Confess. Do you like hearing me?” 

“Yes.” 

She smiled. “Because you want me?” “Yes.” 

“And that kills you?” 

“Yes.” 

“But you want me anyway?” He was leaning his forehead against the grate and gripping onto the wall, splintering the wood. “Yes. Yes.”

Katherine threw her head back. His words were drugging, enough to bring her to the brink. She’d yearned for his yeses for weeks, for decades, for a century and now he was giving them to her in a choked voice tortured with want. 

“You crave me?”

“I’d give anything to stop.” 

She made an urgent noise and caressed the grate in a feeble effort to feel his skin through the gaps. 

“Tell me. Confess. Confess.”

“I haven’t had my fill of you.” 

“Yes,’ said Katherine.

“I want -- fuck.”

She was undulating, racing to finish.  This was … this was … but, she couldn’t ignore it. The twinge in her chest, the nagging feeling that always served to remind her that even with all of his lust and pain and conflict, that even with his acquiescence, even with his obsession,  he didn’t love her. He didn’t have her in his heart. None of his confessions --- I hate it but I can’t stop and I hated you for showing up tonight but I hated you for leaving two weeks ago and yes, it’s taking everything in me not to break down this wall and come for you --- were about his undying passion or eternal love for her. He belonged to her even when, even if, she stopped claiming him, even when he refused her claim, he would never, could never pull away from her. Katherine felt a flare of rage amidst her desire that then turned to a resolve of sorts, as it always did. This was all familiar and yet never old, she, and they, could never get old. 

Katherine got up and ripped open the curtain. Stefan was already leaving his side of the booth to get to her. She pushed him back inside, sitting him down so that she straddled him. She’d never get his love, fine, she would just have to do what she always did --- bring Stefan lower, deeper into her, entangle him in the messy web that was their relationship. Take it all from him. She took a kiss from him, ravishing him, dug her fingernails into his shoulders, whimpered into his mouth when he grabbed her by the neck.

He moved them out of the booth, back into the nave, and slammed against a pillar, making the building shake. The impact was near-hazardous and the idea of his lust for her being so great it’d bring down an entire church inflamed Katherine beyond reason.

“No,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you now. Now.” 

He lifted off her dress in a single motion and suddenly there was clattering on the floor. Something had fallen out of her pocket. A lot of somethings. Stefan moved away slightly to inspect, making Katherine groan with impatience and frustration at the absence of him against her, between her. She took a step forward to close the gap between them but Stefan pushed her back against the pillar, holding there, his quiet domination making her moan. Candied chestnuts had fallen from her dress. One landed in Katherine’s bra. Stefan’s eyes stayed on it for a few moments and then he quirked an eyebrow, looking at her to explain.

“Come on, Stefan, you know your history,” she said breathlessly. “I was alive at the time, after all.” 

After a beat, he realized. “This is a poor substitute for the Vatican.” 

“But it’ll do.” 

“Mm.” 

He closed the gap between them -- finally -- and buried his face in her chest, taking the chestnut out with his teeth before kissing and palming her breasts. Katherine sighed and gripped his hair, gripped his back, pushing him deeper into her so she could feel him once again between her legs.

Stefan teased her with a graze of his fangs and she shivered then left her again, to pick up her dress. He found a few more chestnuts, and backed farther away from her as he chewed the one in his mouth. 

“If I remember that contested piece of history correctly…” His expression was becoming more devilish. “The courtesans were stripped bare, weren’t they?”

Katherine steadied her trembling body against the pillar, trying to exude control instead of melting into a begging mess. “They danced first.”

Stefan nodded.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

His gaze was focused. “I just want you naked.”

And God, that was what he’d get. Katherine left her spot on the pillar and followed Stefan into the aisle. She reached behind her back then stopped, and then looked at him. “That’s what you want?” She wanted him to say it twice. “Me, naked, on my hands and knees?”

“Yes.”

It was a command and with that voice and that look, she would do anything for him. 

“You know it was here,” she said, unclasping her bra. “This exact spot.” She let it fall to the floor. She wanted him wild and inflamed and as drunk on her as she was on him. “Before I was dragged to hell.” She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. “Where I vowed that only I could have you.” She was wearing nothing but the rosary and it switched something in Stefan’s brain. 

“Only pick up what I drop,” he said.

And she did. Stefan took his time, walking backwards, step by step, toward the sanctuary, leisurely dropping chestnuts on the floor, keeping Katherine’s gaze as she crawled toward him, collecting what he scattered.

The way she moved, feline, almost serpentine, a seductive display just for him

inflated something in Stefan that made him want to twist the rosary around her neck around his hand and pull her to him.

He could do anything. He could have her like this, on her hands and knees, for hours. One word and she’d do what he told her to. She had centuries on him, more strength than he could fathom, and she’d let him stake her for his pleasure, torture her for his knowledge, she’d let him bind her and leave her for his own amusement. She never said no. And he never had to compel her to say yes. Never had to use the tricks on her that she’d used on him. The power he had over her, the control he held, he alone had that and did that, he could make her plead, make her pay, make her yield to him in a way he could never and would never yield to her and every time he remembered that, every time she reminded him of that, he wanted to test the limits, see how far she was willing to go, how far he could go. 

She had chestnuts in her hands, in her mouth, she’d picked them up in ways he wouldn’t have been able to imagine. The more she prowled, the more her movements seemed to change, seemed to shift into something… dangerous, as if suddenly, Stefan was prey, as if he was something to be consumed. That same smug expression was on her face now but with sultry, seductive eyes, like she had him right where she wanted him, like she would devour him completely. And the closer she got to him, the faster his heart raced; he could hear its beat in his ears, feel a tremor throughout his body, and Stefan felt something like excited trepidation mixed with resentful frustration that she had seized back the power he’d been enjoying. But this was what she wanted, the struggle for the upper-hand. She wanted him battling himself, battling her, the fight, his better nature, is what tangled him in her with no thought of escape. He had to give in tonight. He had to. Remember?

Suddenly, they were against the altar and Katherine was feeding him chestnuts, transferring one into his mouth with a kiss that made him greedy, that made him want to steal her breath, steal her soul, that made him want to leave her a gasping husk. And then he was on his knees in front of her as she picked up a chalice half-full with wine and poured it down her throat so it spilled down her chest, her stomach. He drank the red rivulets off her skin, licking and lapping and sucking so that she giggled and moaned and clutched him to her

and then he was piercing her skin and drinking from her skin, her blood on his tongue, the wine on his lips, her nails digging into his shirt, raking his back, his grunt and her moans reverberating off the walls and echoing throughout the church. Stefan turned his attention lower so that her body arched and she fell back onto the altar, her back bowing off the surface, her arms spread out so she could grip the edges, her moans turning to sobs of pleasure and calls of Stefan’s name. He had her at his mercy. 

Before he knew it, positions changed. The candlesticks and the chalice and the cross clattered to the floor and he was lying flat on the altar in their stead. Somehow, she had tied him to her with the rosary, bound his body to hers with complicated knots and layers, entangling him, snaring him. He was still fully clothed and she sat astride him, completely bare, her hand on his throat, as she teased him, using him to pleasure herself, daring him to grab her and take her, spurring him to grip her waist tighter and tighter and tighter because the harder he held her, the closer his grip came to grinding her bones, the more control he had to exert over his desire and Katherine wanted him to falter and crack and completely break apart beneath her so that he could utterly destroy her with his prowess.

She didn’t stop until he begged, until he admitted to wanting her so badly he couldn’t stand it, to wanting her to ride him to oblivion, until he confessed that he didn’t know how or when he would be able to liberate himself from their game, and Stefan hated each word he groaned while she laughed and basked and rewarded him with her hands, her mouth, her gyrating body. Lust so close to blood lust, desire so close a murderous rage toward Katherine and all she’d done to him, all she would do to him, could do to him, and toward himself for wanting to exact his revenge in this way. And then they were clawing at each other, biting each other, the candlelight illuminating how they writhed in delicious agony, tearing each other apart with their carnal appetites. 

Even without her vampiric ability to eavesdrop from miles away, Elena was sure she would’ve been able to hear the screams of pleasure coming from the church. As it were, she was with Damon a few yards away, asking herself over and over why she chose to come back, why she would torment herself this way. Out of everything she’d heard over the past few months -- and she’d heard more than she’d ever cared to -- this was the worst of it. 

Elena glanced at Damon by her side. He was near-catatonic --- in so much pain that he looked to be in the process of disassociating. 

“Oh my God,” she said. “We’re here because you’re jealous.” 

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his horrified reverie, and looked at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. 

Elena glared at him. “You wanted to hear them because of some sick need to punish yourself or measure yourself or something.”

“Yeah, well.” Damon shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice listening to Stefan screw your brains out in the house.” 

“This is unbelievable.” Elena shook her head. “You hate the thought of him in there with her.”

“Yeah, I do. And you know what? I hate the thought of you hating the thought of them in there too.”

Elena threw up her hands. “What do you expect me to say to that? That I’m flattered?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

“No!” said Elena. 

She stalked off. Vaguely, she wanted to go back to campus but she didn’t even know if she was going in the right direction, she just knew she wanted to get as far away from Stefan and Katherine as possible.  

Damon followed her. “Then why are you so mad that I’m jealous about what’s going on in there?”

“I’m mad that I let you talk me into coming here because you’re just playing into her hands! This is what she wants, this is what she likes!”

“So, no part of you likes that I can’t stand how much this hurts you? Because I still want you?”

Elena stopped short and opened and closed her hands in frustration.  “No, I just feel bad. I don’t want you in pain, Damon, but your pain over our breakup isn’t a compliment and your jealousy over my feelings for Stefan isn’t a turn on!” Elena buried her head in her hands. “And I would probably feel worse about what this is doing to you if I had the room but I can’t get everything I just heard out of my head. I can’t---” Stefan’s confessions made her hold her stomach.  “I’m pretty sure I’m going to go crazy.” She rubbed her eyes and felt the tears she couldn’t help wet her fingertips. “Why would you convince me to come back here?” “Why did you let me?

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“It’s because you want to fall out of love with him,” said Damon. 

Elena sighed, suddenly exhausted. “No.”

“You’re lying to yourself.”

“That’s not it.”

“You want me to convince you---”

“I love him, Damon.”

He stared at her. 

“I’m not playing games. I’m not in denial. I just love him. And…” she bit her lip. “I came because I want to understand this as much as I can.” As she said the words, she realized it was true. Even now, even in this, she wanted to know Stefan, wanted to be close to him. “I want to be there for him when this finally ends, but…” But right now she wanted to scream. She started to walk again to keep herself from doing it.  

Damon grabbed Elena by the arm, pulling her to him. She glared at him. “WHAT?” 

“Don’t get sad,” he said. “Get even.”

“Let go of me.” 

“You want to save him?” said Damon. “You want to understand him? You want him back? Sink to the level he’s at.” 

Elena took a deep breath. 

***

“So, Katherine was stalking Stefan. You were stalking Katherine. And Damon was stalking you?” said Bonnie, sipping from her coffee.

“We were all stalking Stefan,” said Elena. 

“Why would you go back?”  said Caroline, adjusting the knapsack with the candles and the books and the grimoire on her shoulder.

She, Elena and Bonnie were trekking through the woods, on their way to the witch burial site. Caroline had called for a coffee date/catch up and Bonnie suggested combining it with a field trip to search for answers about their “Katherine problem”, and for the entire morning, Elena barely heard what either of them said and mostly walked around with a loud ringing in her ears.

“I don’t know,” said Elena because she knew they wouldn’t understand if she’d admitted it was to be close to him.

“Yeah, this whole thing sounds so healthy,” said Caroline. 

Bonnie shot her a look. “Was that really necessary?”

“Well, I’m sorry but this is insane! Our group has survived a lot of cross…” Caroline shook her head, trying to find the right words. “Couplings, I don’t know! But Katherine is breaking us. Bonnie and I are displaced from our home---”

“It’s bad but let’s not be dramatic,” said Bonnie, as they made their way into the dilapidated cottage. 

“No, the dorm is our home for the next few years and we can’t even stay there for long periods of time. We are displaced!” said Caroline, as she and Elena helped Bonnie set up the candles around the cottage. “Stefan is off the deep end.” Elena closed her eyes at the pain of that. “Damon is getting there and who knows how many people that will put in danger, including us! Matt is,” Caroline gestured. “I don’t even know what’s going on with him, I just know ever since Katherine decided he was a key player in her weird psychosexual whatever, he hasn’t been the same.” 

Bonnie laid out a blanket for the three of them to sit on. “I mean, she’s right. I had to use my magic on you. I hated that.” 

“Exactly!” Caroline gestured. “It’s mayhem!” 

Elena didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like she could disagree. Katherine’s preoccupation with Stefan had brought out a side of Elena she didn’t recognize, made her consider things, do things, think of things she would never otherwise. 

“And we haven’t found anything about, you know, killing, really killing a vampire and it’s been months!”

“That’s why we’re here. I want to see if they,” said Bonnie, gesturing around the cottage, “have any insight. If they’ll even help us.” 

“Even if they did, are we even sure that’s going to work?” Elena said it in a voice so quiet, Caroline and Bonnie barely heard her. 

They stared at her with furrowed brows and Elena looked up at them, already wiping away tears. “He chose this. He’s choosing this. Before, with the blood, you know, I … I did that to him. I made him drink from me. And Klaus … that was for Damon. Everything that happened after that, the way he pushed me away … that was to protect me. But with her, I don't …” Elena’s voice cracked. “I'm starting to wonder if he just doesn't want to stop and that scares the hell out of me, the thought of letting him go, I can’t do that but even thinking about trying scares the hell out of me. But I …I just …” 

The breakdown Elena had been delaying for weeks poured out of her and Bonnie held her just as she cracked so that she was crying into her shoulder. Caroline shifted over to hug her.

“I just don’t understand how she’s able to do this,” said Elena. 

“Elena,” said Bonnie. “If you don’t want to---”

“No,” she said, sniffling. “I’m not giving up. We still have to do this. We still have to try. It just … it hurts.” 

***

For the first time in weeks, Stefan was still. Sitting in the library. Brooding. Stewing. Sitting with himself, with the wreckage he wrought, the decisions he made, the life he’d led, the one he didn’t get to, he was sombre and melancholic and felt the familiar sourness of shame.  He was still for hours and then he heard her. She was hovering in the doorway. He knew she knew that he sensed that she was there.

“You can come in.” 

Elena took a few steps into the library. "Katherine left,” she said.

"Yeah."

Elena continued to walk until she could see Stefan’s face. "Bonnie said you were the one that made her go."

Stefan didn't respond. He should’ve known Bonnie wouldn’t keep it to herself. He hadn’t told her so Elena could know, he’d told her in the hopes that Bonnie could work her magic and do something like spell the town to keep Katherine from ever coming back. 

“Well, is it true?” Elena insisted.

Stefan simply nodded. He'd had the conversation with Katherine the night before. It hadn’t been planned. There wasn’t a big speech. He had walked into her apartment and without any preamble told her it was time to leave.

"Get on a bus,” he told her. “A train. Steal a car, take mine, I don't care, just leave. It's done. You're done here."

Katherine had looked at him. The grin on her face had slowly disappeared when she’d realized that this wasn’t a game, this wasn’t an empty request. It wasn’t a request at all. 

"Something's changed,” she’d said. 

"I've let it go,” said Stefan. “I'm..." he sighed. “This isn’t what I want.” 

“Bullshit! You wanted this! You wanted me! Don’t deny it, you know that you did!”

“I did,” he said openly. “And now it’s over.”

Panic was all over Katherine's face. He was serious. She knew it. "She got to you," she said.

"Katherine..."

“No, no.” She started pacing. "How does she always ...? How could you do this?"

"Don't go after her.” Stefan’s tone was weary and Katherine’s eyes darkened with rage when she saw that his eyes were emotionless. 

"I've already killed you twice,” he said. “I can do it again. Do not go near her. I will stake you." 

“You've made that threat before," she said, uncertainty a tremor in her tone.

"I will behead you," he said matter-of-fact. "I will set you on fire. I will let the sun burn you, Katherine, if you touch her."

Still, a shred of hope flickered in her chest. She could still turn this into a game, make it into a power play.. She just had to get under his skin in the exact right way.  "So much anger,” she said with a hint of a seductive grin. She trailed a finger down his chest. “I bet you’d love to bury your stake in me.”

"No," he said dispassionately. He didn't even bother to move her hand away. "No enjoyment, no rage, it will just be because you hurt her. It will just be for her."

Katherine’s eyes reddened. She gritted her teeth.

“I should rip you to fucking shreds.”

“How long did you think I could keep doing this?”

“STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M A STRANGER. I AM NOT A STRANGER TO YOU.”

“Oh no, we are intimately acquainted,” Stefan agreed. “That’s why I know it needs to be done like this.”

“I never knew that loving Elena made you cruel,” said Katherine waspishly.

Stefan sighed. “What, you want me to hold your hand? Shed a tear for you? Go through all the darkness, all the trauma that got you to this point, that got me to this point? Tell you I understand, tell you it’s not your fault? That’s what you want?” He said, raising his eyebrows. “Because I think I did that already, Katherine---”

“OK---”

“--- and then you threw it back in my fucking face and jumped into Elena’s body.”

Katherine grinned. “There’s that anger.”

“It’s not what you think,” he said. “I’m just making a point.”

“And now let me make mine. I won't let you do this to me. You understand that, right? You understand that I will not let you go. I never have.”

"I’m not doing this with you. Leave, Katherine. Peacefully," said Stefan, heading toward the door. "Today."

She’d screamed after him. "I will fucking kill you before I let you leave me!” 

Stefan stopped in the doorway and hung his head. He turned back around, his expression dejected. 

"Do what you need to do," he said. "Just don't touch her. And don’t think you can kill me and then hurt her because, if you do, I will come back from whatever hell you send me to. Leave her out of this."

And then he’d left.

Stefan looked at Elena and cleared his throat. “It was time.” 

Elena rubbed her eyes in disbelief. There had to be more, there had to be a reason. "You were in so deep. You---"

"Elena, do we really have to..."

"How did you...why did you..."

"I saw you ..." He closed his eyes. And he saw Elena in the cottage with Bonnie and Caroline, sobbing into their arms, devastated and heartbroken. He hadn’t meant to see it. 

But he’d been out in the woods himself, running, hunting, doing anything he occupy his mind, and he’d heard her from a distance. He reacted before he could think and in a manner of seconds, he was outside the old cottage.

He would never forget that like he would never forget the way she looked at him, teary-eyed and completely undone, that night on Wickery Bridge; expressions that would haunt him for his eternity. It clarified him in a way that nothing else had.

"You were in hell," he said. "I couldn't just..." His voice choked and he sighed, bending his head. "You were in hell," he said again, more firmly, as he stood up.

Elena watched Stefan walk away and was oddly overcome with emotion. The gratitude she felt toward him, the love that she felt for him because he loved her enough to let Katherine go, because he loved her enough, because he had always loved her enough to do anything for her only served to underscore that he’d given up something he’d wanted, something he’d wanted terribly; something he shared with Katherine. The thought of her in his head, in his heart, the thought of her as a sacrifice dizzied Elena with a disorienting jealousy and an aching indignation that Katherine possibly gave him something their relationship never did.

"I slept with Damon!” she blurted out.

Stefan stopped walking. He turned back around. When Elena came to the Boarding House, she didn’t know if she was going to tell him that, she didn’t know what she was going to say beyond questioning him about Katherine and her impulsivity made her look at him defiantly. 

He cleared his throat. "You two are back together?"

She shook her head. "No. I just felt like it."

He nodded. "OK, well, that's not really---"

"We woke up my entire dorm,” she continued conversationally. “We were so loud we didn't even hear the pounding on the door."

Stefan was quiet. Still. He looked to be focused on something Elena couldn't see. She wondered if he was breathing. When he got like this, he reminded her of sculpted marble. She pushed further.

"I rode him so hard into the mattress, it broke the be---" 

"Why are you doing this?"

He was looking directly at her now with no accusation in his eyes, just sheer pain. It made her want to go to him, put consoling hands on him. She folded her arms. She was hurting him back.

"Well, we're telling each other about our sex lives now---"

"No," said Stefan, shaking his head. "I never wanted to tell you what happened between me and---"

"I thought you should know about the headache I have because I kept knocking into the headboard. Well," she said. "Before we broke it."

Stefan nodded then continued to walk, which caused anger to swell in Elena's chest. Anger that made her walk after him.

Anger that  pushed her over the emotional edge she'd been teetering on for weeks. 

"You're just going to walk away?" She accused. "Is that all you do?"

He stopped short then turned around. "What does that mean?"

"After your summer with Klaus, when you came back, I told you I kissed Damon and you walked away. You found out we spent the night in a motel room and you didn't ask any questions." 

Stefan took a deep breath and started to walk away again, faster this time. Elena shadowed him into the living room. 

"I chose him---" She grabbed him by the arm and turned him around so he could look at her, so he could see her furious, determined face.

"I chose him after you gave me the cure and you just left town.” It was cruel of her to say that here, in front of the fireplace she’d made that choice. She didn’t care. “You just told me that you made Katherine go and I respond by telling you that I fucked Damon's brains out---" Stefan flinched, exhaled sharply, and broke free from Elena's grasp then continued to walk. "And you run away!" She screamed. "You're running away!"

Of course he was running away when he had --- "I have no right to feel anything, Elena."

Elena put her hands to her head and then picked up a lamp and threw it against the wall, making Stefan stop and turn to look at the damage.

"I don't give a fuck about what you have the right to feel, Stefan. How do you feel?"

No, she wasn’t hurting him back. She was pushing him. Testing him. Seeing if he loved her too much to show her what he showed Katherine, to feel with her what he felt with … … her. Her desperation to know was making Elena blunt and messy with her emotions. It had been making her messy with everything.

Stefan clenched his jaw, holding onto his composure. "You have every right---"

"Yes, of course. 'I have every right'. Always so patient!" She upturned a table, making his eyes widen. "God, you're so understanding, doesn't it ever get tiring? Don't you get tired?"

"What do you want from me? You want the fight?"

"Yes!"

"You want me to ask you if you did this just to hurt me?”

“Why not?”

“You want me to say that that isn't you? That you would never do that? Why?"

"Is that how you feel?"

"I feel like I don't get a say in what you do!"

"So you're not angry? You're just never angry with me?" Elena took a few steps forward. "The things that we've been through over the years, the things that you had to hear, that you had to see, it doesn’t affect you because you’re such a fucking saint?"

"Elena---"

"It has to. You have to be. Stefan, you must be so angry at me. How much anger do you have that you don't let me see?"

"That's not---"

"Hate me!" she yelled.

He blinked at her, a picture of confusion. "No," he said simply.

She was in front of him now, pushing him so that he staggered backwards. "You're a ripper, right?" She pushed him again. "Let in the rage." And again. Into a wall. Causing a dent. "Let it in."

"Stop it." 

"Why? It wouldn't be anything I hadn't heard before!"

He put his hand over hers when she moved to push him again, as if she wanted to push him through wood and brick, and he was suddenly looming over her. 

"I didn't mean any of that and you know that. You have to know that," he said, pained at the memory of every cruel lie he spat in her face when he'd been detoxing.

He wasn't angry. He was earnest and passionate and Elena loved him for it, she could never hate him for it, but in this moment, she could kill him for it.

"Why can't you get angry at me?" she yelled. "Katherine---"

"SHE'S GONE. None of this matters!"

"She enrages you."

Stefan gritted his teeth, thinking about the church, the blood, the lust, the shame, the regret. The sick hateful feeling in his stomach he had the morning after. All of the mornings after. The intoxication in that was corrosive. 

"You're not Katherine." He said firmly. "I have never linked you to Katherine. You've never made me feel what she has! She's out of my life. She's out of our lives! We don't have to do this!"

Elena glared at him, a mixture of fury and pain. She felt something shift, tilting her off-balance, stripping away more and more of her composure. 

“You still want her, don’t you?"

“What?” 

“You didn’t send her away because you wanted to---”

“Elena---”

“I heard you in that church! Yeah, I was there! All of your confessions, all of your desires!”

“That’s not---”

“God, you still want her! More than you have ever wanted me.”

Stefan looked sharply at her. The sentiment was too incomprehensible for a simple denial, it didn’t deserve any kind of acknowledgement. 

Elena was adamant. "I thought I was the one you didn't hide from but it's her. You don't hide that part of yourself from her."

Katherine had done everything in her power to destroy him, and Elena had done everything in hers to help him was never, could never, be that. She knew that. She had to know that.

"Don't do this."

"You relish that side of you with her."

Stefan was beside himself. "There's only that side of me with her!"

"Then give that to me!' She was inconsolable. "You owe that to me!"

No, this was enough. Stefan put his hands on either side of her face and she inhaled sharply the feel of it. 

"Elena? Elena! Look at me. Look at me." His tone was frenzied and anguished. "I could never hate you."

And her doing her best to make him try was painful in a way he would never be able to truly articulate. "I could never feel---"

Elena was trembling. She couldn't feel his touch. She moved away. "I'm telling you to."

"No," he said flatly.

"I want you to."

"No."  

He started to walk out of the living room, but Elena grabbed his arm, keeping him in place and it caused a tormented sob in his chest. He was overwhelmed by her refusal to give up, let go.

"What did you do with her that you couldn't do with me?" 

Something turned in her expression. Why was she goading him? Why was she so insistent on this? "Not this." His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"You want me on my knees like her?"

"Stop it." He closed his eyes.

"You want me to beg like her?"

"Elena, stop."

"It wasn't enough for you. We weren't enough for you." She was more than angry, she was near-crazed. It scared him. "You want to be savage with me like you were with her?"

"Please." 

"Own me like her?"

"Please stop."

Without warning, she took his hand and put it on her neck. "If you were to put a hand around my throat the way you did with her ---"

Stefan erupted with horror and desperation. "STOP IT." He held her by the arms. "JUST STOP! STOP." 

"If this is because you actually do love her---"

His mouth was on hers before she could finish her sentence and she whimpered from the shock of it.

Stefan pinned her against the wall, kissing her with a furious, desperate passion. He was clutching her, gripping her. His hands found the dips and shallows of her body, massaging her, feeling her. He was kissing her cheek, her neck, her eye, her forehead, so that she gasped and quaked and each of his touches asked again and again, Does it feel like I love her? Elena, tell me. Does it feel like I love her?

And when she moaned in response to his wordless question, when she bowed to him, sank into him, making helpless, needy noises, he moved to leave, confident that he’d made the depth of his point, of his feelings clear, but Elena kept him to her, refusing his departure and desperate for more.

She could get lost, oh God, she would've gotten lost in him if it weren't for this feral urgency and impatience clawing at her.

She didn't know if it was the vampirism, if it was the weeks of torment, but she had this need that was territorial and possessive and primal and raw. She bit his lower lip then sucked and Stefan put his hand on the small of her back, bringing her forward, pressing her into him and she felt the evidence of his desire. Had he done this with Katherine? Bring her to him so he could feel her body against his, so his arousal, his lust for her could drive her crazy? Had that driven him wild? The thought of that ---

Veins darkened Elena's face. Suddenly, she bit him, sinking her fangs into his neck, making him call out and convulse. He pressed her even tighter to him then pressed her back against the wall, leaving no room for escape, He grinded into her as she drank, as she clutched the back of his head, gripping his hair. She fumbled with his shirt, scrambling to rid him of it. She wanted it off. Off. And then her hands were all over him rough and greedy and jealous. Katherine had touched him here, kissed him everywhere, and if it were the last thing she did, she was going to rewrite the history of his body with touches and kisses of her own. She skated her lips across his chest, nipping him, biting him, marking him so he pleaded with strangled sounds, but she wanted him to regret everything, everything that had happened in the past couple of months.

Stefan was torn between the pleasure of Elena’s lips claiming his body and the impatience to once more feel them against his, and he brought her back up to him with reverent, rough hands so that he could kiss her again, moaning into her mouth, as they made their way, clumsy and drunk, to the couch. Suddenly, he wrenched away from her, his expression aroused and raw and pained.

“It’s too soon.” He was shaking his head frantically. “This is too soon.” 

“What are you talking about?” said Elena, breathlessly. She crossed her hands at the hem of her shirt and peeled it off in haste, and what little resolve there was in Stefan’s expression crumpled at the sight of her. “It’s been a lifetime.” 

He didn’t move when she walked up to him. She slipped her hand beneath his waistband so that he squeezed his eyes shut and stuttered when he spoke.

“It’s -- It’s too much,” he said. 

And Elena understood. He hadn’t forgiven himself for the arguments they had, the things she’d pushed him to say.

 “Stefan,” she said, as she continued to feel him and please him, her touch an indication of her forgiveness, of the fact that there was nothing to forgive.  “Come home.” 

He exhaled sharply and then he was kissing her everywhere, feeling her everywhere, embracing her so tightly, pressing her into him so firmly, as though he wanted them to physically meld. He lifted her onto him and sat on the couch so that they were entwined. His face was buried in her and he whispered against her skin, “I’ve missed you.”  

Elena shivered and sighed dreamily. “I---”

Fire. Sudden fire. Spreading everywhere. Fast. Impossibly fast. From nowhere, from everywhere. Quickly, Stefan and Elena disentangled, terrified and confused. Flames engulfing the carpet, the tables, the walls. 

“Run! RUN!”

Stefan took Elena by the hand and they sped out of the room. 

Katherine heard the yelling from within the Salvatore Boarding House and she smiled grimly at the panic, the fear. Stefan could not be surprised. She’d warned him. Repeatedly. And yet, she knew he thought she was making empty threats. Time and time again, he and Elena, and Damon, and everyone, they’d underestimated her. Time and time again, they’d forgotten her reach, the friends she’d made, the people she’d had in her debt. They’d forgotten that she’d been alive for centuries. If she wanted a witch, she’d find one. If she wanted vengeance, she’d get it. If she wanted Stefan, she’d have him.

It took him a day to get to Mystic Falls but the witch she’d once spent the night with, the witch who had pledged to be there for her always, no matter what, had come when she’d called in a favour. And now he was here. Next to her. He spelled all the exits shut. He brought the fire to life. He helped her with her vengeance. 

“It’s like I said, Stefan,” she spoke, knowing that even with all of the commotion, he’d be able to hear her. “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

[aurorialwolf]

more redacted ocs!! Aria's roommates edition

I have a redacted oc named Aria Aisling, a dreamwalker! She has 5 roommates, one of whom has been featured in the audios I've voiced of her, and this is her rankings of them! All have been made with picrew, BUT I did have to edit a couple of them slightly to get the appearances right.

Cassie, bear shifter She's the sweetest out of all Aria's roommates, and bakes cookies for all the roommates at least once a month! She's maybeee not the quickest on the uptake as the others, but she makes up for it with her kindness and (literal) strength! She's probably Aria's favourite, not that she'd admit it.

Salvia, vampire of the House of Baz. She's about 52, and was turned when she was 25. She is almost tied with Cassie for Aria's favourite, but is ranked at 2nd just because. She's the best cook in the house, and makes most of the dinners. Kayli is also one of the people who cooks dinner, but she seems to have differing tastes as she does not eat like the others do (Salvia still eats human food but Kayli rarely ever does). Salvia is from Ireland, and emigrated to the US in 2002, at the behest of her (vampire clan's) queen. Note: Aria's listener, "Dreamer", is a volunteer blood source for the Dahlian members of the House of Baz, so Salvia knows them well.

Amelia, sonal energetic She's the loudest out of all of them, but mostly just by accident, since her powers sometimes come through when she's especially excited. She's probably exactly in the middle of Aria's rankings of her roommates.

Millie, stealth She's the quietest of all of them, and keeps to herself. Sometimes, everyone assumes she isn't even home, until they bump into her cloaking in the kitchen. She's about on par with Aria in terms of how reclusive she is. Aria doesn't have particularly strong feelings towards her, but likes Amelia a little more, so she's ranked 4th. One time she helped Aria redye her hair, though, so she could easily rank 3rd as well.

Kayli, serenity daemon She has been coalesced now for 56 years, and is currently doing some extra daemon studies at DAMN. She is the most overbearing in terms of protectiveness when it comes to Aria and the other roommates, but she means well. She is probably Aria's least favourite roommate, simply because she interrupts her dreamscapes too often.

So yeah!! That's all of them :D I'll gladly provide the picrew links if anyone wants them, but keep in mind I had to edit Kayli and Millie, so Kayli's serenity horns and Millie's blue streaks aren't in the picrews! I'm working on Aria's 4th audio right now, so it should be out next weekend at the latest!

[big-cheesy-productions]

Character Reflection (Cooler Name TBD)

Bit of Context:

Jhara and the party (Edward the half elf swashbuckler, Jericho the giff fighter, and Piper the human witch) were tasked by the captain to steal a piece of an old coin from a sugar estate. Everything was going well until a ghostly crew showed up, slaughtering the residents of the estate...

Session 5:

Jhara has spent over 100 years of her life sailing the seas, but nothing prepared her for what they saw when they emerged from the cellar. She had done battle with all number of sea beasts, and even monstrosities that had leaked into this plane from other realms, but the dead rising and slaughtering innocent? That was something she had only heard in stories meant to scare children. She'd heard tales of the famed Dusk Seekers fighting the undead, though she had assumed they were just exaggerations. But now, she saw them with her own eyes, and they were more terrifying than she imagined.

Her instincts and adrenaline took over in the fight and all the way through the jungle. Shaken from what they saw at the estate, her only focus was survival and getting her crew mates out, but her bolts fired wide and her new magic was unpredictable. Watching Piper go down and reviving her twice felt all too familiar. Jhara was feeling helpless and scattered, but by some miracle, they made it back to the well. Jhara hoped the worst of it was over as she tied the familiar knots around everyone’s waists, and it was: until Piper slipped, unintentionally dragging them both under the raging current. 

A new familiar feeling took over: cold roiling water, so dark she couldn’t tell which way was up, not knowing the state of her crew mates, the chaos and uncertainty. She managed to swallow the fear, relying on years of training and instincts on the sea, but before she could attempt to get her bearings, Jericho pulled her from the water and air filled her lungs. 

As they emerged from the cave and into the open air, the rain still pouring outside, Jhara felt like she could breathe again. Despite being a drow, she wasn’t fond of caves or being underground. However, this feeling didn’t last long when they climbed aboard the dingy, and the air turned sour as Edward momentarily withheld their success and the Captain’s temper made an appearance. 

Once onboard, despite her exhaustion, Jhara was actually grateful for the work she was given. It was familiar and comforting, and gave her space from her crew mates, but gods it made her miss her crew. It had been barely two weeks since the wreck, and everything felt wrong. A million questions swarmed Jhara’s mind: Why did Piper try to hide the piece? Why did the Captain want it so desperately? Did Jericho and Edward know what it was, and why wouldn’t they tell? What was Morgan’s connection to the ghostly captain? And where the hell was her captain and crew?

Feel free to send me any questions!

[rottedsaint]

Cryptid Oc !

Known by the humans as : mother skinwalker

Given name: Hanwi

Physical age: late 30's

Inventory; in human form she carries money (old and new as well as different currencies), a scrap of the cloth that wrapped her child, a piece of soft candy (probably caramel) and a phone she barely knows how to use :')

she/they prns (doesn't really matter but those are the ones associated with hanwi.)

story like introduction.

they have a human and cryptid form, although whenever they take human form you can tell they aren't human. her voice sounds just slightly off, raspy but like t.v static, repeating certain phrases that you deem an odd case of echolalia. their skin oddly smooth and soft. you know they aren't of the human race like they boldly try to convince you but don't argue.

in their more human form they take the shape of a female, quite tall (192cm), bust length black hair that naturally sits in big loose curls, pretty busty and a warm brown skin tone. light caramel eyes that look like they'd spill heavy globs of tears any second and freckles/beauty spots littering her skin. her makeshift sundress garment drenched in blood from the womb to their lower thigh. you hear this 'mother' call out for her child, her scratchy voice calling out "babe" or even "baby" in search of her missing child.

in their more cryptid form it's a mix between a wolf and a overly tall human, limbs all lanky and bruised even with the darker brown skin tone. her eyes obstructed by a black mass, almost cloud-like. you see patchy fur spots trying to keep theirself warm. in addition to being covered in rags. their body looks emaciated although you are forced to assume she carried a baby with the red body fluid covering her womb area.

she isn't hostile unless provoked. even in this 'true form' they can communicate, she seeks comfort for the loss of her child. (they still search for) if you dare well up the courage to get close they'll sniff you like a feline, attempting to put a little trust in you she'll nestle her head under your hand, physical comfort calms them very quickly. music also calms her, any slow soft tune you can hum will help!

she got her name 'hanwi' after being discovered by indigenous folks in the mountain timezone area in north america. they'd hear her wails and cries every full moon. many have attempted to harm/kill her but none are successful, anybody who knows of her and happens to see her ether shys away or the few that do try to calm her.

Facts;

Used to live in greater heaven with the deities that created her. She was their incubator for their young. Cosmic Deities can't recreate like humans, so they put a chuck of their energy inside of Hanwi, it festers and turns into a fetus like being. growing until some level of maturity before being born. They bodily mature at 5 years. Mentally, it's can take forever depending on their parents and who's taking care of them and teaching them about their being a deity.

she gets more restless and easily provoked the closer it is to the full moon

she thinks moths r so cute and she believes if she still lived as a human in current time she'd have a moth garden <3

they like dark chocolate and old ballroom music/love songs from the 20's-40's.

when in her calm cryptid state she shrinks, somewhat bigger than a brown bear, but during this time you can make out her hushed mumblings as a prayer

Prayer; 'Angel of my Creator, My guardian dear, to whom my creator's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side. Remain wary of the fraility of the young. their wills are weak, minds young. To light and guard, to rule and to guide. blessed be the body, soul and mind.'

if you are one of the few who ends up calming her, she thanks you with a trinket :) and a big lick/kiss (like a dog if in cryptid form, she will give u a kiss post panic episode in human form)

since she has a human form and has a cohesive consciousness in both forms, she uses that to form an identity and travel around the world to find her child. (she has different names in different area's but her most common name/title is mother skinwalker)

Cryptid Faceclaim; think of vicar amelia but dark brown instead of white fur, and covered in dirtied white/golden rags

Human Faceclaim; (yes sza.. she's gorg <3)

[knowerofuselessfacts]

I posted 4,537 times in 2022

That's 674 more posts than 2021!

317 posts created (7%)

4,220 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lifbitch

@evilwriter37

@ashleybenlove

@seven-of-seven

@derinthescarletpescatarian

I tagged 974 of my posts in 2022

#food - 50 posts

#long post - 50 posts

#gravity falls - 45 posts

#stanley pines - 38 posts

#cats - 32 posts

#dogs - 31 posts

#lol - 29 posts

#httyd - 29 posts

#how to train your dragon - 22 posts

#fanart - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i waited to see if she'd figure it out but then she started making the 'actually starting to get distressed about this' cries so i helped

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I love having disabled friends because they’re so much more understanding when I say “my symptoms are getting really bad, I have to go”. Disabled folk are like “yes, please, shoo before you get hurt”. This is an appropriate response. A lot of non-disabled people act as if it’s a huge hassle.

26 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

#4

I really wish people would understand that when it comes to LGBTQIA+ identities, "I don't get it but I respect you" is good??? Do not make fun of identities you "dont get". You don't *have* to get it. The human experience is weird and chaotic and that's why it's beautiful

28 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#3

Strange Gifts

Apparently I wrote a bittersweet Valentine’s Day Vigcup fic for @evilwriter37. Hope you like it!

Rating: General Audiences

Pairings: Vigcup, Hiccstrid

Characters: Hiccup Haddock III, Viggo Grimborn, Astrid Hofferson, Toothless

Warnings: None that I would have to mark on AO3, Not exactly HTTYD 3 compliant, Viggo Lives. 

Of course, it’s on Ao3 if you want an easier reading experience: Strange Gifts

But also under a read more if the hellsite is more your speed:

It was the winter after they left the Edge, Stoick had thrown Hiccup into the deep end. His days were filled with shadowing his farther in decision making, aiding repairs, wrangling Sven’s sheep that got out for the millionth time (and this time they were not allowed a dragon race). The moments he could get to himself during the day, used to take care of his leg and Toothless’s saddle and fin from the cold, weren’t enough to refresh his mind. As he shlumped into his room, body sagging from the exhaustion of the day, he almost didn’t notice the small bottle on his bedside table. He looked at it, not remembering putting it there, and picked it up, examining it. It was a nicer bottle of ink than he had ever bought himself, he could never justify the cost for a bottle this nice, let alone the quality of the contents. Suspicion grew when Toothless sniffed the bottle and the room, narrowing his eyes with a slight growl, but he never found the source, nothing else had been changed in his room.

A year later, he had nearly forgotten about the bottle of ink. His mind was on other things, mending the frayed edges of his and Toothless’s relationship-- it wasn’t his fault but they both needed to remember that-, making sure the tribe had enough rations to last the cold months that remained—especially if they ran long, getting Gobber to stop being pushy about his and Astrid’s relationship, building a relationship with his mother, keeping Ruffnut from harassing Eret too much, and more filled the list. But when he went to his room, still up the stairs—he couldn’t bear to take his father’s room even though he was told he could—on his table he found an intricately carved comb and case, laid out as if to show its impressive craftsmanship. Surrounded by patterns on the edges of the case, was a stylized Night Fury, missing the left tail fin. Yet, there was no trace of whoever left it. It raised his concerns for a few weeks, with the look that Toothless gave it after smelling the room, not quite furious, but definitely giving the item a suspicious glare.

Somehow, the gifts had followed him to New Berk, the same time of year, another obviously well-crafted item, a cloak pin made of gold that looked nearly woven into the shape of dragons curled around each other. This time, since in New Berk his sense of smell was better during winter compared to original Berk for some reason he couldn’t explain, he could smell a slight amount of ash and ozone. He took it to the other Dragon Riders, explaining that this was the third year in a row, that nothing else had ever changed, but Toothless had always seemed suspicious, and they had followed them. With the smell of ash, he was worried it was a threat, although it was rather expensive for a threat. For the safety of their people, they kept an eye out for clues for whomever must have followed them. They found nothing, not even any suspicious footprints outside of Hiccup and Astrid’s home.

This time, he had nearly expected the item on his table when he came back from his duties. A leather-bound book awaited him, the designed tooled into the leather made him feel like he was missing something, as if he knew what it was but couldn’t bring it to the front of his mind. Inside was details of some of the locations of useful herbs and plants within the woods and along the neighboring islands, although he was suspicious of the gifts still and the writing itself also triggered the nagging feeling as if he recognized it but couldn’t place it, he couldn’t say he was completely ungrateful. They still had much to learn about the area and knowing that Gothi and her future replacement would have the herbs she needed to take care of the tribe’s health took some of the weight off the young chief’s shoulders.

To the concern of the tribe, thunder-snow had come upon their new home, but it wasn’t the only commotion of the day. It had started slow, with Terrible Terrors flocking to Gothi all to familiarly, but over the day, the dragons had found them, as if they missed them too much to stay away even for their own safety. Toothless had greeted Hiccup with a lick all up his front, and Hiccup struggled to even pretend to be mad about it not washing out. The Light Fury had followed Toothless, but stayed away from the people, instead leading several other dragons into the woods. He couldn’t figure out what changed, or why they were back, but having his best friend back made him feel more complete, even as he argued with Toothless that they had to go back for their own safety. Toothless merely made a judging face, nudged Astrid’s stomach incredibly gently, before looking at Hiccup as if he was asking ‘You think we aren’t raising our hatchlings together?’ Hiccup stared at Astrid, question in his eyes, and grinned as she nodded back. It was only as he walked back into their room when he remembered the time of year, only reminded by the darkened silver and ruby pendant, that must have been custom due to its similarity to Toothless. He looked out the window, wondering if he could see any trace of who left it, and once again was met with nothing. But when he looked at the sky, he could have sworn he saw the shape of a Skrill with a person on its back illuminated by the lightning. The pieces clicked in his mind, the reason everything was so obviously expensive, well-crafted, the familiar handwriting-- if a bit changed, the familiar patterns, and why they had smelled faintly like ozone when he noticed it. He couldn’t be certain, he had never actually seen a trace of the man—he kept his word, but he knew.

44 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#2

Headcanon time!

I dont know how it works, but Titan Wing Skrills definitely can have storms following them.

52 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Twitter: Oh no! Musk is buying Twitter! We'll have to go back to ... *shudders* .... Tumblr....

Tumblr: Just some volcanoes sitting here

89 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tlacehualli]

rememberance

She'd been working as long as she could remember. Prior to la Medianoche, her family had been desperately poor - but not in a way a Westerner would understand.

Their family had land, and so she'd helped them work the land and worked in the kitchen too since she was about 5 and could control her body passably enough to be of some use. At first, her tiny little fingers had helped Mama work the massa that would eventuallly become tortillas, or the soft dough that gave depth to the tamales their family sold year round.

Their family had land but also there was culture. After she worked in the mornings and went to school from 7 am to 3 a la tarde, she would come home to her grandmother. She was old, wizened, and barely spoke a lick of Spanish; instead she would speak to los ninos in Nahuatl, regaling them with myths and tales almost lost in times of colonization. Olivia listened eagerly, committing details to memory because every inch of mythology made her imagination soar and she wished for such a time. Que triste, that death and disease and greed had cut off their full potential. They were there still of course; they were there in the Yucatan, hiding in the jungle, away from whence the technological might of the West could try to penetrate the unknown. Her heritage lied underneath every leaf, behind every poisonous creature, and in the eyes of the wisdom of decades.

It was so cruel, that her family survived the brutal colonization of the 1500 and 1600's, but not the Omnic crisis, not Medianoche. They'd been poor before but it became so much worse, so desperate. Olivia had been only 8 when her family died for her sake - that they believed in her, in her mind, in her natural born intelligence and adaptability, it ached. Why? Why her? Why not Josefina, with the soft eyes and smiles of a girl that could empathize with any living being - whether omnic or human, but she felt and she endured. Her younger brother Martin; he shared her technological aptitude, maybe not as well as she but he was far more capable of interfacing with humanity.

She was different. Sometimes she could be almost mechanical in her interactions but sometimes her emotions came through so strongly that they overwhelmed her. And they chose her. They could have - should have - chosen anyone else to continue their heritage but they chose her.

When Sombra drank too much alcohol, when she could feel it against her tongue and underneath her skin, supplanting all of her childish needs and wants, all of her adulthood traumas - then she would weep. For all of her losses, for the weight of the pain of every ancestor, for all of the lessons and myths her abuela never got to impart, for her brother - so much like her, so young, so innocent, yet giving her the years he never got to have - and now here she was, alone, in Europe, in a cold, dark room that not even her teddy bear could light up. And it was dark and cold and so, so, so lonely, but she would play the tune of one of her mother's beloved romanticas - just in her ears, so as to not bother those near her - but sometimes if she was drunk enough, she would sing in a watery voice and it was almost like being home, with her father holding her gently and swaying to the beat of music written deep in her bones.

Sometimes she remembered. She so wished she didn't.

[diamond-song42]

Pone Reviews 109: What Lies Beneath

Happy Autumn to you (because I don't know what day you are reading this on) and welcome back to Pone Reviews! I'm back, baby! There's been a lot going on in my life and I've needed a bit of a break. I'm hoping to nail down a new writing schedule soon. Nevertheless, I am ready to share my thoughts on this episode. What happens when the Young Six find a strange floor grate in the library? We'll find out in "What Lies Beneath!"

Let's start with the moral. "Any creature has friendship in their nature." Sweet sentiment. It's nice to think that a creature of any race, gender, sexuality, national origin, disability, and more can be buddies. But it ends up feeling like one of those morals that I think falls a bit flat on the relatable side. This doesn’t have the same anti-racism overtones as the moral in “School Daze," and that's where I think it's faulted. It's not implying a majority race can be friends with a minority race - it's suggesting more interspecies relationships. Today's kids know that races different from theirs are still humans just like them! So does that mean interspecies friendships are a good thing? With a dog, cat, or fish, maybe... but not an alligator or a lion! A friendship with an alligator or a lion can only happen in a Disney movie! The episode was entertaining, don’t get me wrong, but this just leaves me so... confused.

Onto the plot. As the Young Six are studying for a History of Equestria exam, Cozy Glow puts doubts into their minds that friendship is in their respective natures! Will their minds be changed when they discover an underground part of the School seemingly no one knows about? Here we are, another Young Six-themed episode. And a cute one at that! We know they have insecurities about things, but they're finally explored here. Sandbar is suffering from a classic case of hero worship. Silverstream is terrified that the Storm King isn't entirely gone. Yona is freaked out by spiders. Gallus hates being in enclosed spaces. Smolder doesn't want to admit she can be cute. And Ocellus is ashamed of her past and fears she'll revert back to it. And yet they are only concerned about their friends when they get past their respective challenges. The friendship lessons have made an impact! I adore the bond these six creatures have formed. It feels different from the Mane 6's bond since they're all different species with different backgrounds. A pony used to the simple life in Ponyville (save the occasional bugbear). A hippogriff that spent years underwater so as to not be threatened by the Storm King. A yak with a rich, prideful culture. A griffon who grew up in arguably the least kind land in Equestria. A dragon with nerves of steel who wasn't ready to embrace pony culture. And a changeling who fed off love for most of her life and has only recently learned that there's so much more to experience. Friendship brought these six together and it has been such a great thing for the show. Oh, and as for Cozy Glow? Something is... definitely up with that filly. Can't say why. I just know it.

Here are some more strong points in this episode:

*If anything, my favorite part of them all is when Smolder and Gallus - the characters most stubborn and resistant to friendship - admit they aren't like others of their race and genuinely want to help their friends. They've come a long way.

*I also really appreciate how Sandbar looks up to the professors - all women. Our society won't allow boys to like playing with Barbies or Disney Princess dolls. It's refreshing to see a boy with a real appreciation and admiration for his female elders.

*Whoa, the Tree of Harmony can become sentient?! Awesome! It took over 1,000 years for it to do that, so now I'm curious how long it took to gain its other powers (especially that one where it MELTED CHRYSALIS'S CLONES).

*Holy cow Sandbar's face when "Rainbow Dash" and "Rarity" tell him they need him is SO ADORABLE!

*This is gonna sound weird, but it’s a bit of a relief that Smolder actually likes traditionally cute things like dresses and tea parties. This show likes to stress that the “macho” characters (Rainbow Dash, for example) can’t be associated with cute things when we all know that is a damn lie.

*It's actually pretty interesting that Yona's fear is spiders because you wouldn't think there'd be many spiders in a cold habitat like Yakyakistan. Or... MAYBE THAT'S WHY THE YAKS MOVED TO YAKYAKISTAN IN THE FIRST PLACE! TO GET AWAY FROM THE SPIDERS!

*eeeeevil. Eeeeevil. EEEEEVIL. (You know who I'm talking about.)

And here are some weaker points from this episode:

*Let's be real here: How do the Mane 6 (or at the very least, Twilight) NOT know about that floor grate? It's not like it's very hidden. You'd think somepony as meticulous as Twilight would comb every inch of the school to make sure it was perfect before opening. Or... maybe Twilight did know about the grate and didn't tell the students on purpose knowing something like this would happen?

*I have to ask, what's the timeline here? The Young Six are exhausted after exiting the cave in the early morning. But they seemed to be in the cave for... a few hours, at most? Let me deconstruct this: Cozy said she'd give the Young Six her notes and mentions she returned with the notes to find the students gone (notes she does visibly have when the Young Six return). The transition between Cozy's words and the Young Six studying irritably can't be more than a few minutes long. Considering each of the Six must have been going through their trials relatively simultaneously, it realistically must have not been a 7-8 hour period as we're led to believe. (Yes, I do have problems with weird timelines. Remember my complaints about "A Health of Information?")

*Aww sweet more Chrysalisoh it's just Ocellus. (Not that I'm complaining - Ocellus is my sweet little cupcake - but damn I miss Chryssy.)

*As cute as Silverstream's love for plumbing is, it's making me ask questions about hippogriff/seapony plumbing that I didn't want to ask.

*Cozy Glow climbs a ladder when she can very well fly. (And her wings can carry her weight, unlike Scootaloo!)

*The Storm King and Storm Guard rock formations are a lot scarier than the actual Storm King and Storm Guards. :/

*Okay, I’m officially starting to question some of Twilight’s curriculum. She’s teaching her students about the Tree of Harmony and its history. Yet she told the CMCs that they couldn’t attend the school because they’ve practically aced the curriculum and they need Cheerilee’s lessons. Does the Tree of Harmony’s history not count as a needed lesson? It was planted 1000 years ago and has certainly done a bunch for Equestria in nine seasons.

In short: An adventurous episode with a really flat moral and friendship is zzzzzzzz. EEEEEVVVVVIIIIIILLLLL! 4 out of 5 rainbows 🌈🌈🌈🌈

It feels good to be back. Thank you for reading. I'm gonna nail down a new schedule for myself soon and I hope you guys will bear with me. Let's just say that the next review will cover my favorite episode of the season! Diamond out!

[farfallasunicas]

So I may have been doing some writing but every idea I have is for young Madalyn, and since I teach Kindergarten she's perpetually stuck at 5 years old in every idea no matter what season the writing takes place in... though if I stuck with her current age in modern times she'd have been 2 in season 1...but it's my writing and I can do it how I want right?

Anyways I thought I'd share some head cannons I have:

1. She is every bit Winchester

2. She is very much Dean's human baby.

3. She is terrified of storms and won't go to anyone but Dean if it's storming

4. She tends to cling to any female who comes into her life though she didn't like Jess,Jo, or Lisa cause she felt like they were trying to take her boys away.

5. She adores Ruby ( Ruby 2.0 in my mind cause Gen has been part of the spn family so long she's the only Ruby I imagine) and the boys won't spoil the relationship by telling her she's a demon even after she finds out about monsters

6. The boys were so adamant (especially Sam) for Madalyn to live a normal life that they do their best to keep the hunting life a secret from her.

7. She has a teddy bear in a half blue and half red flannel that the boys got her to cuddle when they're away.

8. When he was at Stanford, Sammy, Dean, and Madalyn would meet secretly at least once a month cause Madalyn missed him so much. (Dean to but he wouldn't admit it).

9. Madalyn breaks down crying anytime Sam gets on to her or punishes her. She's so used to Dean being the disciplinarian that when Sam chooses to punish her instead she knows she really messed up.

10. She does virtual/online school so the boys can take her with them more.

11. If she gets in trouble if someone else is watching her then she gets in trouble with the boys too

12. Spanking is user as a last resort with her. The only times the boys have ever spanked her or for almost causing Dean to wreck, when she ran away, and when she'd get extremely violent with them turning a tantrum.

13. The boys will only leave her with people they trust ( Jo, Ellen, Bobby, Jodi,Donna, Cass, each other etc) but try not to.

14. Madalyn is very much a reader like Sam and always wants him to read her a story at bed time.

15. Dean is more of the disciplinarian but Sam is the stricter parent doing his best to keep Madalyn on a schedule especially With school, meals, bath and bed time.

What do you guys think? Would you read about her?

[valewright67]

Oh, wow damn. Ok then, glad he's cool.

Meliodas smiled. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you." He held out an arm and Zeldris climbed up onto his shoulder, perching there. "This is Zeldris. My companion. My name is Meliodas."

"...I see..." She was still looking at Meliodas like he was bat shit insane. "...My name is Elizabeth."

Meliodas’s eyes widened before his face pinched. When he spoke, his voice was strained. "Is it? That's a lovely name."

"How long have you been traveling?"

"Since the Holy War ended, really."

"Since the- that was almost 2 decades ago!"

"It was 18 years, 5 months and 27 days ago." At least, that's what he counts. The day he woke up and found Elizabeth dead and cold next to him. She blinked at him. "That's... specific... ah, never mind. Would you like to come to my home? Rest, replenish, before you continue?"

"...That would be nice, yes. Thank you." She nodded and gestured for them to follow, nimbly leaping among the spires to her villages entrance, tucking into the mountain. She set about preparing the rabbits she'd caught immediately and Zeldris flicked his ears, watching her, before bounding off and returning with another rabbit to make up for taking her food. She glanced at him, but took. "Er... thank you... Zeldris...?" He snorted and returning to Meliodas’s side, settling in a semi circle around him.

"So, uh... how did you aquire a pet dragon?" She asked as she handed over his share, trying to make conversation. Zeldris squawks, offended, while Meliodas starts laughing. "Oh, quite that, she doesn't know any better."

"I'm sorry?"

"No, no, I'm sorry, not your fault. Zeldris is actually my brother? It's complicated, but at the end of the war, he was cursed to take on the form of a dragon. I didn't actually know it was him until a little bit ago, he just kept following me everywhere I went."

"Oh, I see."

They fell into silence as they ate and eventually, the two laid out the bear fur to sleep, curled up with one another. She eyed them, still a little thrown off by the DRAGON, but whatever.

Over the coming weeks, they get to know each other. Meliodas finds that with every passing day, she is more and more like his Elizabeth. Then she gets divine powers on top of it, and he just... One night, when she's asleep... he has to check, he has to! So he carefully kneels next to her and puts a hand on her cheek, taking deep even breathes to match hers as he taps their foreheads together. And he searches.

As soon as he finds her soul, which barely took any time at all, he feels it, trying to confirm what he suspected. And he was right.

This savage, human woman? Was his Elizabeth's reincarnation.

"What are you doing?"

His eyes flew open to see her staring at him quizzically, an amused little tilt to her lips. He tore back from her with a gasp, tears gathering in his eyes as his hand shakily covered his mouth. She sat up, concerned, and started to reach out a hand. "Meli- Meliodas!" He bolted.

Zeldris tracked him down later, sitting on a cliff and looking out over the near barren land. He crooned questioningly as he wound around him, and settled next to his side.

"...It's her, Zeldris. That's Elizabeth, MY Elizabeth. She came back to me!" He was whispering, and buried his face in his hands, a little sob shaking his frame as he finally admitted it out loud. Zeldris rumbled. Something about this all still felt... wrong.

In which Meliodas wakes up after being teleported away by Merlin during the Zaratras incident. He jolts up and looks around frantically, scrambling over to where Zeldris lies limp on the ground. He picks him up, pleading with him to be OK, and Zeldris grouchily squints at him, then yawns, popping his jaw. Meliodas let's out a sob of relief and Zeldris crawls into his lap, both because he's still tired, and because he knows his weight will help calm down his older brother.

A little bit over a decade later and Elizabeth collapses in the Boar Hat for the first time. She comes to with a hand on her breast and is honestly too startled to do anything other than stare and stutter out a question. The young looking blonde man told her her heart beat was just fine and she frowned. That's not how... whatever.

Then she realized just who this man was when they were attacked by Sir Twigo. After he'd taken her back to the Boar Hat, she convinced him (not like she had to try very hard) to join her. She was completely enraptured by Hawk. A talking piggy! But then a black dragon lept down from the rafters and tilted his head at her. She blinked, before beaming. "Zeldris!!" He trilled when she scratched behind his ear, pressing into her palm. "I remember you! You used to keep me company in the castle!"

Meliodas, behind Elizabeth's back, gave Zeldris an offended, betrayed look. How did she remember his brother, but not him?? Ouch! Zeldris DEFINITELY smirked at him, the traitorous little bastard.

They found Diane, who got mad at Meliodas for traveling with a woman, until she realized that between Hawk and Zeldris, he wasn't pulling jack shit. Zeldris was well aware she was his mate, but was INSISTENT that he court her before trying anything TOO far. Which is fair, Meliodas wouldn't have ANYWAYS. The groping was... honestly, it was just an excuse to be close to her. Zeldris would try and get him just to get close to her like a NORMAL person, but to no avail.

Elizabeth was fascinated at how Meliodas and Zeldris seemed to communicate flawlessly, despite the obvious language barrier as the least of their problems, they were entirely different creatures! She commented on it once and Zeldris chortled, hopping onto Meliodas’s shoulders and winding around his neck before settling on his perch. Meliodas smirked. "Ah, see, that wasn't always the case. Lemme show you something."

He pulled an old painting out of the closet. It wasn't very big, about 12x18 inches. There were two people on it. One was Meliodas, she could see that much. The other was someone she didn't recognize, though he looked a lot like him. Zeldris eyed the painting. His ear flicked once and he snorted. She glanced up at him, then blinked. The spines on his head and the base of his neck looked an awful lot like this other person's hair.

She gave Meliodas a startled look, and he grinned. "Ah, and it clicks. The person in this painting? He's my younger brother. Zeldris is under a uh... a CURSE that keeps him in the form of a dragon. We haven't found a way to bring him back to normal yet."

"Oh my..." Then she flushed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Zeldris, I never asked before I touched you!" Both of them laughed. "Don't worry, Elizabeth. If he had minded, you'd have known. He's not one to take things lying down." Zeldris hissed at him, before yelping when Meliodas pinched his nose. Elizabeth giggled.