#i just want to do fight poses for a thousand years

[oatmealaddiction]

Rant time, but like, people who complain about the diamonds in Steven Universe getting "redeemed" and "facing no consequences" like, why did you ever think the diamonds getting destroyed was on the table as an option? Why did everyone think the show was going to end with Steven fighting and killing the diamonds, or the universe dolling out some Hayes Code Karma Violence like a giant rock falling on them at the last second? Like I guess I understand the criticism in theory that Steven Universe's metaphor for the diamonds as toxic family members falls apart when you consider they're crimes as space monarchs doing a colonialism, but Steven isn't The Avatar. At no point in the show does he even have the power to doll out the punishment you guys want.

Steven *does* try to fight the diamonds, and he gets his ass kicked. He gets smashed under his own shield and knocked out. His mom forms an entire army to fight them and LOSES and has almost all of her friends corrupted by them. The Diamonds are bigger, badder and stronger than The Crystal Gems (kind of like how adults are bigger and stronger than children.) So instead, he reveals his identity as Pink and the Diamonds immediately stop trying to kill him and the show instead pivots to be about political diplomacy. He doesn't like the diamonds, by the time Future rolls around we find out that he hates them and has private thoughts about killing them even now that that they don't pose any threat. But during the show he's powerless and so instead, talking to them and trying to change their mind is just a practical option because fighting hasn't worked. Because in the real world, there are times you will be outmatched and violence won't be the answer—even if the people hurting you probably do deserve violence.

And the diamonds aren't "redeemed," they just change their mind. They just decide that they want to keep Pink in their lives, so they begin to take accountability and undo the damage that they caused with their war, and presumably will spend the next thousands of years of their lives dismantling their own empire. And again, Steven Universe Future discusses the discomfort and the downside of this approach, that even if it's better and harm is actively being undone, the diamonds can't resolve all the harm they've done and Steven largely doesn't feel like he's gotten justice for what they did to him and his mother—much less the universe. So I don't get where anyone gets off saying this story is irresponsible or saying you should just forgive bad people. I don't see that anywhere in the story. The theme of Universe has always been the necessity of change, and so it makes sense that the villains aren't forgiven or revealed to be good people—but that they just change.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 10

Word Count- 7.2k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, violence, death, Damon’s ass/Damon BEING an ass, shitty Google translate, spelling mistakes(I'm wayyy too tired to edit this rn)

A/N- some of this is not canon just because I love a character too much and she deserved better in the show. 

“Are you just going to keep sulking in here,” I ask from my position in Damon’s doorway.

Damon answers me back with a loud groan mixed with what I believe to be a growl, “Tell me again why you’re here. And why I haven’t killed you yet?”

If I had just met Damon I would be scared of what he just asked me, but after these past weeks of knowing him, I’ve realized most of his threats are half-assed. So I just shrug and walk into his room.

“My mother and brother are away for the week visiting family, leaving me home alone. And, well, I don’t feel like having “he who shall not be named,” come and kill me in my sleep. And you haven’t killed me because you don’t want to. I’ve called you many bad names to your face, and yet I stand here, unharmed."

“Here you stand annoying the hell out of me. Again.”

I roll my eyes and sit on the edge of Damon’s bed. Damon still hasn’t moved from his position under the covers. 

“Damon,” I turn over my shoulder to look at him and he lets out yet another groan to acknowledge he’s listening, “I’m going to be honest with you.”

“Nothing new there,” I hear him say under his breath sarcastically.

“You’re kind of embarrassing to watch right now,” I turn to see him fully glaring at me now, “You’re how old? Like five thousand years or something like that? It’s time you grew up.”

“Says the high schooler.”

“Says the man in love with a high schooler,” I bite back which has him shutting up momentarily.

“You don't know anything,” He says as he finally sits up in his bed. His white sheet falling down, revealing his naked chest. I quickly avert my eyes, not because I’m attracted to him but because seeing Damon half-naked would be like seeing my annoying ass distant cousin naked. No, thank you. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Demon-spawn,” I point an accusing finger at him resulting in him glaring at me some more. 

“I know you have feelings for Elena, everyone and their bloody mothers knows. And as much as I like Stefan, I also don’t think it should be something you need to feel bad for,” I think momentarily and tap my chin in thought, “Well, okay. Maybe a little bad because she’s 17 and you’re like 1,000 and she’s also your little brother’s girlfriend,” I catch Damon’s deadly look and stop rambling, “Moving along…What I’m trying to say is that we can’t control who we catch feelings for. And honestly, Elena’s pretty and nice as hell so I don’t blame you there. But what we can control is how we choose to express those feelings.”

Damon just stares blankly at me and I feel like I’d be better off giving a toddler this speech. 

“What you’re doing right now, sulking and getting mad at everyone around you for something that is out of our control isn’t helping anyone. It’s only making things worse. Elena’s my best friend and I know she’s scared out of her mind right now but doesn’t want to say it because it'll cause more stress for the people she loves. What she needs right now is all of us. After tonight is over and Elijah’s elixir brings her back then you can go back to your hissy fits but right now,” I stand up and face him, planting my hands on my hips in a power pose, “You need to get your ass out of bed and get a fucking grip.”

Damon and I hold each other’s glares for a straight minute before he huffs, throws his blanket off of him, and gets out of bed. I have to fight a smirk as I get overly proud of my pep talk. 

“I’m really starting to miss when it was just puke coming out of that mouth of yours,” Damon growls as he walks to the bathroom and pulls down his boxers without a second thought. My eyes fly out of my head as I get a full look at Damon’s white ass. I quickly turn around and gag.

“Dude! Seriously, warn a girl!”

---

“I don’t remember you being so…talky,” Damon’s voice yells from over the water of his shower.

I frown as I think about his comment and sit back down on the edge of his bed facing the front door and not the bathroom. Not wanting to get a face full of his behind again, or worse…ugh.

“I…don’t think I’ve ever been talky. There has never been a reason for me to be,” I say back to him not really caring if he hears or not.

A moment later I hear the shower water stop and his footsteps padding around behind me. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Damon says from next to me and I slowly turn hoping he’s at least half decent. 

Thankfully, he has covered his behind with jeans and is currently slipping a shirt over his chest.

I think about his question and then shrug my shoulders, “I’ve never really had friends to talk to, and whenever I had tried talking to people they just hadn’t cared. So I never really saw the point in talking.”

Damon stops fixing the buttons on his shirt momentarily to look at me. His eyebrows are drawn together and the look in his eyes isn’t one I think I’ve seen from him before. Something about it almost seems kind of…human. But within another second it’s gone and his lip upturns into a smirk.

“People are a waste of time anyway. The only good thing about them…,” He takes a step closer to me and leans down so he’s in my face, “Is there blood.”

I huff as I stand up and push past him heading towards the door, “And here I thought I could actually have a half-decent conversation with you. My mistake.”

I start walking through the halls toward the living room where Elena, Stefan, and Elijah are. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Damon catch up to me so we’re walking side by side.

“You’re kind of annoying,” He says and I have to fight the urge to not punch him.

“Gee, thanks,” I go to walk faster but he catches up to me again.

“What I mean is…,” He pauses for a moment trying to find his words, “You may be annoying but that doesn’t mean what you have to say is pointless or something that shouldn’t be heard. Screw anyone who tells you otherwise…or just kill them.”

I look at him with a confused look matching the confused feelings I now have, “Thank you? I think.”

“Don’t mention it,” He leans down and glares at me, “Seriously, I will kill you if you tell anyone what I just said.”

I suck on my teeth and then nod my head, “And there’s the Demon we all know and loathe.”

“Right, back at you, Pukey.”

I watch as Damon’s eyebrows furrow as we get closer to the living room and as we enter he speaks up, “Then why are we letting him break the curse?”

I follow Damon into the living room and see Elena and Stefan sitting together on a sofa and Elijah standing before them. Elijah’s eyes lock onto mine and I acknowledge him by sending him a small smile which he just returns with a nod. Okay, Rude.

“We can kill him today. With Bonnie,” Damon says and I realize we’re talking about him. At the mention of him, I begin to clench my fists as a surge of anger rises through me but stop myself since I don’t feel like accidentally cutting myself in a room of vampires. I take my seat on a loveseat next to Elena, who sends me a warm smile before turning towards Damon.

“No. Bonnie can’t use that much power without dying.”

“I’ll write her a great eulogy,” Damon’s words have me turning in my seat and glaring at him. So much for my speech getting to him.

“It’s not an option Damon,” You tell him, Elena. 

Stefan sighs, “Alright, how do we break this curse?”

“Well, the ritual itself is relatively straightforward. The ingredients, so to speak you already know,” Elijah answers.

“The moonstone,” Stefan says.

“A witch will channel the power of the full moon to release the spell that’s bound within the stone. After that Klaus, being both a werewolf and a vampire, will sacrifice one of each.”

“And where do I fit into it,” Elena asks him.

“The final part of the ritual. Klaus must drink the blood of the doppelganger…to the point of your death.”

Elijah’s words have both Stefan and I taking deep breaths.

“And that’s where you come in.”

Elijah goes to the shelf behind him and opens a little wooden box, “This is an elixir that I acquired some 500 years ago for Katerina. It possesses the mystical properties of resuscitation.”

“So I’ll be dead..”

“And then you won’t.”

Damon the grouch speaks up, “That’s your plan? A magical witch potion with no expiration date,” He turns to Elena, “You want to come back to life, what…What about John’s ring?”

“Those rings only work on humans. The doppelganger is a supernatural occurrence. Odds are…the ring won’t work.”

“I’ll take those odds over your elixir. What if it doesn’t work Elena?”

“Then I guess I’ll just be dead.”

Damon shoots his brother a look, but knowing Stefan, he’ll go with whatever Elena wants. Even if he doesn’t agree. Damon realizes this too before shooting another glare at the group before leaving the living room back to where we originally came from.

“Do we know if Klaus has everything he needs to do this? Does he have a werewolf?”

“Klaus has been waiting over a thousand years to break this curse. If he doesn’t already have a werewolf my guess is by tonight, he will.”

—

I watch from my position on the couch as Stefan follows his brother outside. That’s going to be a fun conversation. 

Elena approaches Elijah, “You’d think he’d understand why I’m willing to do this.”

“Why are you?”

“I’m the key to breaking the curse. Klaus is here because of me. If I don’t stop him, then he’s gonna hurt people. It’s that simple.”

I frown sadly to myself and fight back the watering that has started in my eyes. This isn’t fair. None of this is. 

“You know, there’s a possibility this elixir won’t work. I don't want to mislead you.”

“I know the chance I’m taking.”

The tense atmosphere is broken by a door slamming shut and a woman yelling from the foyer. 

“Jenna, Jenna!”

“Get out!”

I quickly rise from my seat and go to follow behind Elena to check on Jenna, but a hand grabs my own, pulling me back. 

“Wait here,” Elijah’s stern voice says to me as he drops my hand and follows behind Elena.  I watch his retreating figure and shake my head. Who tf does this guy think he’s talking to?

I run towards the foyer and freeze when I see Ric standing there. Or Klaus, I guess. My breathing gets faster and I’m debating on whether to swing on him or pass out.

“Jenna, put the cross-bow down, okay? It’s me.”

Stefan joins us and Elijah comes to stand in front of me, not before shooting me a disapproving look.

“What’s going on,” Elena asks the two adults.

“It’s me, Elena, I swear, okay? He let me go. Klaus let me go,” I frown at Ric’s words and look to Elijah to see if he can tell if Ric is telling the truth or not but his face is completely still. 

“Prove it,” Damon who has now joined says.

“Okay, uh, the first night you and I spent together Jeremy walked in right when-”

“Ok! It’s him,” Jenna exclaims as she drops her weapon. Ew. Everyone in the room throws glances at each other before turning back towards Ric. 

“Why did he let you go,” Stefan asks.

“He wanted me to deliver a message. The sacrifice happens tonight.”

—-

“Katherine was there,” Ric says from his position on the couch. We all moved back into the living room to keep discussing our plans for tonight. 

“She’s under compulsion. Damon snuck her vervain but she can't leave until Klaus tells her she can.”

“Where is Damon,” Elena questions, and I get a bit unnerved. Not knowing where Damon is is not an ideal situation. 

“I saw him go upstairs,” Jenna says. 

Elena stands up and goes towards his room and I go to follow her but Elijah grabs my upper arm, “I need to speak with you,” I begin to argue back as he pulls me into the next room.

“Dude let go of me,” I hiss at him and he drops my arm and stares blankly at me.

“Do not dude me, Elskan,” Elijah says with that stupid monotone voice of his that makes me want to wrap my hands around his throat.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do Elijah,” I whisper yell to him so the others don’t overhear us, “And stop with that stupid nickname.”

Elijah narrows his eyes at me, “You are making it incredibly hard for me to protect you.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” I roll my eyes sarcastically, “I didn’t realize you actually cared, since you’ve been acting like you don't.”

Elijah’s narrowed eyes morph into ones of confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously! One second you’re making all these promises to protect me and being all nice and stuff and then the next moment you won’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“It would be impossible for me to not acknowledge your existence, Y/n. There is not a single moment where I am not searching for you. This situation,” He gestures between us, “Is not something I take lightly. And keeping you safe is now my most important mission in this life. So I apologize if I have hurt your feelings whilst doing that.”

I’m frozen as I listen to Elijah and he takes a single step towards me. He reaches his hand up and brushes a stray hair behind my ear. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited for you,” His words have me frowning in confusion as he brushes his finger across my cheek, “But, I fear that if I let myself get too close then it will only put you in more danger and I would rather dagger myself before ever letting that happen.”

My chest and my brain don't seem to be working properly as I just stare wide-eyed at the man in front of me. I try to think of something, anything really to say but I can’t seem to get my mouth to form a sentence. 

A loud bang comes from upstairs and Elijah gives me one more look before exiting. I feel like I’m on autopilot as I walk towards the noise, catching sight of Ric and Jenna running towards it as well. I make my way up to Damon’s room and gasp as I see Stefan with a very big piece of wood through his stomach. Ric tries to grab Damon but the ladder pushes him off him before walking out of the room.

“Okay, Jenna, downstairs in the basement are some blood bags,” Ric tells Jenna who is standing in front of me, “Go get them, now. Go!”

Jenna leaves as Elena rips the wood out of Stefan. I walk over and kneel next to them as Elena holds and tries to comfort her hurt boyfriend.

“I’m so sorry,” Stefan groans out.

I frown, confused, “Why is he sorry? He’s the one who got stabbed?”

I’m ignored for a moment as Elena shushes Stefan until he passes out and with tearful eyes, she looks over to me, “Damon he…he fed me his blood. Y/n, I don’t want to be a vampire”

'My chest practically caves in on itself as I hear my friend's small sobs and shake my head in denial, “No…no. There has to be another way. There has to be Elena,” I stand up and look at her once more, “You’re not going to be a vampire.”

—

I storm through the halls and down the stairs until I see Damon in the living room pouring himself a glass of whatever alcohol he has on hand. That anger from before rises at the idea of what he just did.

“You selfish bastard,” I storm over to him and I see Elijah try to stop me from the corner of my eye, only to receive my hand in his face. And as Damon turns around to look at me he receives my fist in his face. 

Damon hisses as my fist flies across his cheekbone and I fight back tears at the pain in my knuckles. I’ve never thrown a punch before but I didn’t realize it would hurt this much. Jesus.

Damon looks back at me as if my punch did nothing to him, which it probably didn’t and I expect him to charge at me, and I’m assuming Elijah does as well because he moves next to me. But all Damon does is stare at me, raise his glass to his lips, downs it, and then exits the living room. 

“You’ve never thrown a punch before have you,” Elijah’s voice has me turning my gaze over to him.

I look at him sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Elijah stares at me and from his face I think he's trying to debate whether to be amused by me or scold me, “A bit, but I applaud you for the effort,” Elijah’s eyes dart towards my hurting hand and he picks it up with his own and inspects it. 

“You’ll have some bruising but thankfully there appears to be no breakage.”

I let out a pained hiss as one of his fingers brushed against my middle knuckle. He instantly stops and looks at me.

“I can heal you if you’d like,” He asks me and I remember back to when he healed me the first time. It feels like another lifetime ago. 

“I’ll be fine,” I dismiss him and he nods but doesn’t drop my hand. He does reach his other hand up and uses his thumb to wipe a stray tear off my cheek. 

“I’m sorry about Elena,” I quickly remember why I punched Damon in the first place and go to question about the elixir but he shakes his head as if he already knows what I’m thinking, “It won’t work any longer. Damon made sure of that when he fed her his blood. When Elena dies she’ll wake up as a vampire."

I shake my head in denial and feel the tears reach my eyes again, “No... Elijah. There has to be another way! Please tell me there’s another way.”

Elijah’s features form to one of sorrow as if he can feel the pain I’m in, “I’m sorry, Elskan. I truly am.”

I shake my head and bite down hard on my lip to try to stop my tears. Elijah reaches up his hand though and frees my bottom lip from my teeth with his thumb. 

“Come here,” Elijah says as he pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my body. The smell of something masculine, almost smoky, surrounds me as he rests his chin on my head. After everything that has happened, if I were to die like this in his embrace, I don’t think I would regret it. 

—

I wipe the remnants of my smeared mascara as I look at myself in my car mirror. After Elijah left the Salvatore’s saying he had some loose ends to clean up before tonight and to not get myself into any more trouble, I went to check on Elena. 

She hugged me for about ten minutes straight and I just rubbed her back as she cried into my shoulder. And I may or may not have cried along with her, feeling heartbroken for my friend. 

Elena and Stefan then left together to go spend her last day as a human together, which is as bittersweet as it is heartbreaking. And after bidding Jenna and Ric a goodbye I found myself driving to the Mystic Grill. That’s why I am now sitting in it’s parking lot trying to collect myself and trying to keep myself busy for what is to happen tonight. 

I open my car door and hold my bruised hand tentatively as I push through the front door to the Grill. I had seen a “Help Wanted,” sign here the other day and if I hopefully survive the night I’ll need a job for the summer. Not being a trust fund baby really sucks ass sometimes. 

Matt Donovan sends me a warm smile as I walk past him. I'd never really talked to the guy other than the few times in class where he’d ask to borrow a pencil or if I could help him with some math equation, but he always seemed sweet. Unlike the stupid jock stereotype, I’ve gotten used to seeing in this town. After being told by Elena what happened to his sister and that now he lives by himself as a 17-year-old because his mom’s a deadbeat, I feel bad for the guy. 

I let out a low groan as I stop my walk towards the bar which is currently occupied by the demon overlord himself. I debate to myself if I should just turn around, but a hand on my shoulder shocks me.

Ric stands there with his hands raised up in apology, “My bad Y/N. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

I look at Ric and sigh, “I’m just glad you’re you again.”

Ric nods his head in agreement, “Ya, me too. I didn’t hurt you while I was Klaus right?”

I shake my head, “No Ric, and even if you did it wouldn’t have been your fault. You had no control over yourself.”

Ric sends me a warm smile and nods, “I feel kind of violated, to be honest.”

I snort at his joke, “I don’t blame you.”

“I need a drink,” Ric says as he walks with me up towards the bar and my knuckles start to burn as I stare at the hair on the back of Demon’s head.

“I’ll have the same as him,” Ric says to the waiter as he sits on Damon’s right and I sit down on his left. The waiter then looks at me for my drink order, “A Shirley Temple, please. And a job application?”

The waiter, a half-decent-looking man, smirks as he pulls out a pad of papers from behind the bar and hands them to me before going back to making drinks.

“Job searching, Pukey,” Damon asks from beside me and I stare forward not looking at him.

“Ric,” I call to him and he turns to look at me, “If Damon’s here who do you think is guarding the gates of hell?”

Rics snorts out a deep laugh and I can see Damon scowling from beside me. The waiter comes back and gives Ric his bourbon and me my Shirley Temple. I accidentally grab it with my injured hand and try to cover the hiss I let out, with a cough.

“How’s your hand,” Damon asks from next to me. I’m surprised that his voice doesn’t sound completely sarcastic.

I turn and glare at him, “How’s your face?”

Damon sends me a smirk and gestures to his unmarked face, “Perfect.”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my Shirley Temple ignoring whatever the two men next to me are talking about. That is until a voice that has my heart doing a fucking backflip in my chest calls from behind us. 

“Gentlemen? Why so glum,” A deep British voice asks and I could’ve sworn goosebumps went up my arms at the sound. What the fuck? 

All three of us turn to match the voice to the face and…Holy shit.

A tall dark-blond man stands about a foot length from me. At this distance, I can see the different shades of blue in his eyes and the small freckles that decorate his perfect nose. 

I hear Damon groan from behind me and I’m not sure why as I’m too busy ogling the pretty man before me. 

“Klaus, I presume.”

I blink. And then I blink again. And then once more as I’m frozen staring at Klaus. The Shirley Temple in my hands starts to shake as I can’t take my eyes off the man. 

“In the flesh. Thanks for the loner, mate,” Klaus smirks at Ric and if I wasn’t in total shock right now I’d defend him. But the man I’ve thought of killing for the past week is standing right in front of me and I was counting how many fucking freckles I could see on his goddamned nose. There’s thirteen.

 Shut tf up Y/n?!

Klaus hasn’t looked my way once and although I should be glad about that a part of my lower stomach drops at the fact.

Damon stands from his seat and goes to face the man, “Any reason you stopped by to say hi?”

“I’m told you and your brother fancy my doppelganger. Just thought I’d remind you not to do anything you’ll regret,” Klaus’ warning doesn’t seem to sway Damon as the ladder lets out a laugh.

“Thanks for the advice. I don’t supposed I could talk you into a postponement by any chance, huh?”

Klaus lets out a chuckle and I swear my heart just skipped a beat. What the fuck Y/n?!?!??

“You are kidding,” Klaus asks and then turns to Ric, “He is kidding, right?”

“No, not really.”

“I mean, come on, what’s one month in the whole grand scheme of things,” Damon asks and I realize that he’s doing this because he doesn’t want Elena to die with vampire blood in her system. 

“Ya, I mean one month is like,” I pretend to count on my fingers, “Like thirty days. I don’t see why you can’t wait that long. You’ve already waited over a thousand years, what’s thirty days?”

I ask the man and this finally has Klaus acknowledging my presence. But honestly, from the way he’s looking at me, I wish I would’ve kept quiet. His eyebrows are drawn together and his lips curve upwards into what I hope isn’t a snarl. Damon must’ve noticed the look too because he moves in front of me blocking me from Klaus’ vision and him from mine. 

“Let me be clear,” I hear Klaus’ deep voice say, “I have my vampire, I have my werewolf. I have everything I need. The ritual will happen tonight. So if you want to live to see tomorrow don’t screw it up.”

I catch sight of Klaus’ back as he strolls away.

“Would I be a bad person to say I kind of hope his werewolf was the Jules’ chick,” I see Ric shoot me an “Are you serious” look and I shrug, “Hey, she was the one who tortured me. I still got the little knife scare on my leg to prove it.”

Damon doesn’t say anything as he sits back down and sighs. 

“You’re gonna screw it up, aren’t you?”

“You think if I took his werewolf out of the equation she might…get over the fact that I tried to turn her into a vampire?”

“Nope,” I say popping the p.

“I think it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead.”

“But without the werewolf he can’t preform the ritual tonight which means I would have bought her one month before the next full moon.”

Ric shakes his head, “But you’ll still be dead.”

Damon leans into him, “Are you gonna help me or what?”

Ric looks at him for a moment, “What do you want me to do?”

I slurp up the rest of my drink, throw a five onto the counter,  and jump up as the two men next to me watch me wearily.

“Alright gentlemen, dream team time!”

Ric raises an eyebrow while Damon shoots me a look of disgust, “I don’t know what the hell that was, but you’re not coming along.”

I frown as I grab my application and follow behind the two men, “Why the hell not? I want to help.”

Damon whips around to me, “Look kid, not happening. There’s already too much shit going down and I can’t be babysitting you, making sure you don’t get killed on my watch. So go back home and we’ll see you tonight. Capiche?”

Damon turns back around and walks to his car. Ric sends me one last smile and a shrug of his shoulders before following behind. I watch the two men drive off and I sigh as I stand in the middle of the parking lot. Anger and sadness building in me, when I realize just how useless I truly am.

—

I try to give Elijah a smile as he opens the SUV door for me. But with the mood I’m in I think the smile comes out more like a frown than anything else. Elijah must notice this too as he reaches his hand out for me to take. I debate it for a moment, 1. Not being a big fan of PDA, and 2. Stefan and Ric are with us and I don’t want them to be angry with me. But then I remember that my best friend is going to die tonight so a little PDA isn’t that huge in the grand scheme of things. 

Elijah seems elated as I place my hand in his and he guides Stefan and I through the woods toward the creepy ass witch house where Bonnie, Jeremy, and Ric are. 

“The sacrifice is completed in stages as the full moon sets,” Elijah explains to us. I feel his hand squeeze mine in comfort and I squeeze his back, “First the werewolf is killed, then the vampire’ and finally the doppelganger. Once Elena dies, the curse will be broken. Klaus will become a hybrid.”

Stefan comes to walk next to us. His eyes go down to Elijah and I’s intertwined hands briefly before looking back up to me. When I send him a weary smile, he sends me a small one in return calming down my nerves.

“So when do we attack,” Ric asks from behind us.

“Elena’s death will activate his dormant werewolf side. He’ll be vulnerable during the transformation. That’s when Bonnie comes in.”

“And you’re sure Bonnie will survive this,” Stefan asks and I’m thankful at least one of the Salvatore brothers has a heart.

“If she can deliver him to the brink of death I’ll finish the job myself.”

Stefan and Ric nod.

“Could I talk to Elijah for a moment,” I ask the two men who share a look before nodding and moving towards the house. 

Elijah turns towards me, “What is wrong, Elskan?”

“Are you going to be able to do it?”

Elijah frowns and shakes his head, “What do you mean?”

“Elijah you’re going to be killing your brother. I know siblings are a pain in the ass,” I think back to Theo and thank whatever higher being is out there that he left town this week, “but even when you hate them…you still love them. I’m not judging you for what you have to do. I’m just asking, are you ready for what you’re about to do?”

Elijah’s face is solemn as he processes what I asked, “Klaus wasn’t my only sibling,” I frown as he continues, “There once was a time when we were all together. But Klaus ruined that when he dumped their bodies in the middle of the Pacific.”

I let out a strangled gasp at Elijah’s confession. His pain evident on his face. 

“Elijah…I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Elijah steps forward and holds the side of my face with his free hand, “You’re so good. So…pure. I didn’t want to strangle out the light you have inside you with my demons.” 

“Elijah, you’re not the only one with skeletons in their closet. Trust me. But I want you to be honest with me. I need you to be. If this,” I gesture between us, “whatever this is. Is going to work. I’d never judge you. I know sometimes I can be a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t anything but happiness for you. I don’t know what this means but you make me feel something I’d never felt with another human being.”

Elijah stares at me and something in his eyes tugs at my chest, “What is that?”

“Safe. You make me feel safe, Elijah. And I know I’m not some supernatural immortal and I can’t throw a punch to save my life. But, I want to make you feel that way too. However, I can.”

I start to get embarrassed as Elijah stares at me silently and I really wish I would’ve just kept my mouth closed.

“ᛁ ᚹᚨᛚᛚ ᛚᛟᚡᛖ ᛇᚢ ᚢᚾᛏᛁᛚ ᚦᛖ ᛋᚢᚾ ᛖᛗᛈᛚᛟᛞᛖᛋ, ᚦᛖ ᛟᚲᛖᚨᚾᛋ ᛞᚱᛁ ᚢᛈ, ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾ ᛚᛁᚠᛖ ᚺᚨᛋ ᛚᛟᚾᚷ ᛋᛖᚾᚲᛖ ᚷᛟᚾᛖ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚾᛟᛏᚺᛁᚾᚷ ᛒᚢᛏ ᛗᚣ ᛋᛟᚢᛚ. ᛒᚢᛏ ᛖᚡᛖᚾ ᛏᚺᛖᚾ ᛁ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᛋᛏᛁᛚᛚ ᛒᛖᛚᛟᚾᚷ ᛏᛟ ᚢ. ᛖᚡᛖᚱᚢᛏᚦᛁᚾᚷ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛁᛊ ᚢ,” Elijah says in some old language I can’t place. 

“What exactly did you just say to me,” I ask, expecting the worst.

Elijah smiles and places a kiss on my temple, “I feel safe with you as well, Elskan.”

“I’m going now,” Stefan interrupts us and I move away from Elijah shocked.

The sense of warmth and peace I just had completely washed away as soon as those words left Stefan’s mouth. 

“You should get inside Y/N. Bonnie needs you,” Stefan says to me making me frown. But I nod as I walk through the threshold of the house. Elijah follows me as I stand next to Ric. After a moment Bonnie and Damon walk up the basement stairs and out the front door. I frown as Ric and I follow them and Elijah squeezes my hand once more before dropping it as he passes through the threshold. Ric and I are pushed back though.

“What the hell?”

Ric yells from next to me, “Bonnie! What is this?”

Bonnie turns back towards us, “I can’t put anyone else at risk. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do this! What if he goes after Jenna,” Ric asks angry.

“Jenna safe locked in at the Salvatore’s.”

“Damon?”

Damon sends us a look, “Sorry buddy. She’s right.”

I look to Elijah for help but from the look on his face he doesn’t seem surprised.

“You knew.”

Elijah turns to me one last time, “I meant what I said about protecting you. If I have to kill my brother to do that, I will. I’m sorry, Elskan. I will see you soon.”

I watch silently, as he turns his back on me and disappears into the woods. So much for trust. 

—-

I watch as my history teacher paces in front of me. Jeremy’s unconscious body lay on the couch next to me and Elena's estranged bald father who looks like Charlie Brown watches us wearily. If you had told me I’d be in this situation a month ago I would’ve called you crazy and set up an appointment for you with my therapist mother. But here I am. Yippee. 

I stand up, and both of the grown men watch me, “Just using the bathroom. Wait…Does this place even have a bathroom,” I ask but groan when I get no answer. I’m about to make my way out of the room when a piercing pain slices through my chest.

It only takes one scream from my lips before Ric is at my side. His mouth is moving but the sheer pain I’m experiencing makes it so I can’t process his words. I watch with teary eyes and sobs coming out of my mouth as Ric lifts his hand from my chest and his eyes widen. The crimson liquid coating his hand is the last thing I see before the world goes black.

—

3rd Person POV- 

Bonnie screams out her spell as she crushes Klaus’s body. Fire burns around them as the once powerful Original lay in agonising pain. From the shadows, Elijah stalks towards his younger brother. 

Elijah stands above him. A mask of anger covers his face as he leans down to stare at the man he once called a brother and a friend. 

“Elijah?”

Klaus stares up at the man he once saw as his protector, and for the first time in centuries, Klaus feels true fear. 

“Hello, brother.”

Stefan and Bonnie watch from afar as Elijah plunges his arm into his brother’s chest. Wrapping his hand around his still-beating heart. 

“In the name of our family…Niklaus…”

“I didn’t bury them at sea,” Klaus’ desperate voice halts Elijah momentarily before shaking off what he believes to be a trick.

“I know about Y/n,” Those four words have Elijah pausing, “I know what she is to you. And I know she's the same to me.”

The hand that was once clenched around Klaus’ heart slacks as Elijah stares at his brother in horror.

“You’re lying,” Elijah snarls.

Klaus shakes his head, “I wish I was, brother. But I’m not. And if you kill me what do you think will happen to her. Are you really going to take that risk?”

Elijah’s once cool face breaks and turns into one of horror as he looks at his hand that is in his brother’s chest. 

Stefan noticing this lapse of judgement speaks up, “Elijah, don’t listen to him.”

“Elijah,” Klaus says, “Think of her.” 

“Do it and I’ll take you both out,” The Bennet witch threatens.

Elijah looks up to her, “You’ll die.”

“I don’t care.”

Stefan and Bonnie watch in horror as Elijah speeds himself and his brother out of the flames and into the night, leaving only silence and heartbreak. 

— 

“Why are we going to this again,” My brother asks from the hallway outside my room as I fix my black dress in my mirror. My hands freeze for a moment as they land on the spot on my chest that was bleeding just the night before. 

-Flashback-

I woke with a gasp and before I could get a second to breathe I felt someone grasp my shoulders into a hug.

“You’ve really got to stop freaking me out like this,” A soft voice says into my ear.

I pull back and my eyes widen to see Elena with glossy eyes staring back at me.

I shake my head confused, “What happened? Did the ritual happen? Who died? Are you a…,” I pause before finishing my last question.

Elena sends me a smile and shakes her head, “They found another way.”

I feel a smile break out onto my face and I go to sit up to hug her but a sharp pain in my chest stops me.

“Don’t move ok. Just lay still,” Elena coaxes me back onto the coach I’m lying on.

“What happened?”

-End of Flashback-

In Elena and Ric’s spark notes version of the night, about 20 minutes after Stefan, Bonnie, and, Elijah left for the ritual I fell down to the ground in pain, screaming and yelling, and when Ric went to check on me I had blood spilling from my chest. Right above where my heart is. Ric said there was so much blood he couldn’t find where it was coming from but after holding pressure on it for another ten minutes the bleeding had stopped and when he moved his hands from my chest I had no wounds that showed I had been wounded. 

Alaric told me he was surprised that I was still breathing after losing the blood that I did. He also told me that while I was unconscious he found Damon slipping me some of my blood. And if I wasn’t as sore as I was I’d have bitched him out. I’ll just put that on the back burner for now. As well as figuring out what the hell is wrong with me. Bonnie said she couldn’t feel any spells or curses on me so at least that’s a plus. I guess. Also, I haven’t seen Elijah in over a day. Honestly, I don’t know if I could face him right now anyway. I’m pissed that he betrayed us, but there’s a part of me that is happy he didn’t kill his brother. A part I’m not telling the public because right now I’m off to a funeral for Elena’s dad who did die.

Elena told me he had Bonnie do some spell that switched his life for hers. And as much as I disliked the guy, I got to give it to him he showed up in the end. RIP Charlie Brown. 

“We’re going because Elena’s my friend and her dad died, Theo. Try to not be an asshole for the afternoon please,” I say as I meet my brother at the front door of our house. My mother and he came back early last night because she had to get home for some work thing. Typical. But that also means I get to be with Theo for the day and after almost dying yesterday, I realized that I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to say goodbye to him, and today could’ve been my funeral he’d be going to. A chill runs down my spine at the thought and I fight back a set of tears.

“Okay, I promise. I’m sorry,” Theo says as he notices a tear fall down my face.

I smile at my little brother and pull him into a hug.

“I knew you missed me,” I can hear the smirk in his voice as I laugh into his suit jacket. 

“Ya, whatever loser let’s go.”

—

I watch with tear-filled eyes as Elena places a rose on her biological father’s grave and then walks over to her parent's matching graves and places roses on them. Theo stands next to me with a solemn expression on his face, Jeremy is next to him, Bonnie, Caroline, and Tyler stand behind us, and Jenna is on my left as she holds Ric’s hand. I turn to look over my shoulder and I catch Damon’s eye as he stands against a tree. And for the first time ever I almost swore he smiled at me. Damn, maybe he’s dying too. 

—

“I’ll be in the car,” Theo says to me and begins to walk away but not before bringing Jeremy in for a bro hug. I watch as my brother safely gets to the car and then I begin to walk over to Elena but see her already crowded with our friends. My gaze goes towards Damon who stands facing the graveyard and I frown. 

“I have a bone to pick with you. You can’t just go and put blood into people’s mouths while they’re-” I say as I approach him. 

“I’m happy you’re ok, Y/N.”

Damon’s interruption and the sincerity in his voice make me halt as I approach him. 

“Wait…I think I’m hallucinating because I could’ve sworn you just called me by my actual name,” I walk up to him and jokingly smirk, “You dying or something?”

“Tyler Lockwood bit me.”

Oh. Fuck.

Translation-

“​​I will love you until the sun explodes, the oceans dry up, human life has long since gone and I am nothing but my soul. But even then I will still belong to you. Everything I am is you.”

[genericpuff]

This plot point annoyed me so much! I thought she was finally going to open up to Persephone about the reasons why she hated Hades so much, about what he did to her, but no! They just introduced a new yet unnecessary character to the story 🤦🏼‍♀️

What are your thoughts about it?

oh yeah it annoyed the piss out of me too and for one very big reason that is CHRONIC in LO:

It's a solution to a problem Demeter didn't have.

This happens to a lot of characters throughout the comic. They'll have some kind of plot-driven conflict or character-driven flaw, and then it will be solved by something else entirely that had nothing to do with their original problem or doesn't line up with the theme of their storytelling. Minthe had insecurity issues and a toxic relationship with Hades? Just give her a classroom full of children to babysit! Hades had infertility issues? That's fine, Persephone somehow fixes those issues because at the end of the comic they have babies and Hades has his happy ending so it's fine! Hera was in an unhappy relationship with Zeus and had trauma from her past as a victim of Kronos? No problem, just make her an all powerful fertility goddess! Persephone accidentally causes winter which kills possibly thousands of people? Gaia is here to save the day, and also she's the one who makes Persephone return to the Mortal Realm for a couple months with full visitation rights. Apollo is a serial rapist who's attempted murder on several occasions, even against his own father in an attempt to take the throne? Community service, that'll solve it.

Demeter is one of the biggest examples of Rachel's inability of writing an actual cohesive plotline. She writes like the only goal is to come up with new twists to keep people reading each week without ever considering what themes or questions she should be answering throughout. So when she does pose questions, the answers often wind up being severely disconnected because she can't be bothered to actually plan out a plotline with narrative structure, she just needs 'things' to happen. To put it bluntly and simply, she writes like how a 13 year old on Wattpad would write, no actual thinking about the material she's presenting, no consideration for the curtains and what color they are, just "make the things happen so that people will keep reading because that's what writing is!"

Demeter's problem wasn't her failing to understand Persephone. It was people failing to understand her when she had reasonable cause to both be wary of Persephone moving to Olympus as well as Hades and his intentions with her daughter. But because Rachel needs to have the perfect happy ending for her self-insert power fantasy couple, she resorts to gaslighting both Demeter as well as the audience by extension into believing that the solution to Demeter's character arc... is understanding Persephone more.

Like first of all, the moral "people just want to be understood" is way, WAY too "baby's first storyline" at this point in the story especially when we've tried to tackle much bigger topics like sexual assault, and when we know how complex Demeter's backstory is. There's no way she needs to be told by Hebe that people just want to be "understood". She absolutely knows this already, and has been fighting to be understood by her siblings and peers and family for centuries, but of course, everyone sees her as just "the contrarian".

But then the final solution is... the sudden appearance of Demophoon as her long-lost child, and Hades giving her the volcanoes. That's it. She doesn't get to actually become Queen of the Mortal Realm, she never really gets closure over the past 2000 years of abuse from everyone around her, Hades just - like with everyone - buys her affection and she gets a new baby to pour her attention into instead of Persephone and we're all just forced to go along with it for the sake of Rachel's fantasy.

Rachel can't write (￢_￢;)

[sundrop-writes]

oo! I was just unsure of how you could do it for some of the characters but I trust you to come up with good scenarios, you’re always very creative with them.

So, could I ask for how you think teen wolf characters Stiles, Isaac, Lydia, & Derek would react to finding out reader is pregnant? (could be with their baby, or however else you think up bc ofc Lydia can’t get anyone pregnant 😂)

And no you are not alone. I really like pregnancy and baby fics, which is why I was wondering, but I was still a bit worried you weren’t up for it for this particular fandom! It’s very fun to read about having an imaginary family with my fav characters and the variety of diff scenarios that could lead to it.

'I'm sure you could come up with something good' - and the first time I read this message, I came up with something delightfully insane for Lydia. so strap in omg

I am also glad that I'm not the only one who likes pregnancy and kid fics!!! I think they are so much fun because it has elements of drama and fluff and caring. It's such a nice soup of emotions. I really hope you like what I have done here.

Teen Wolf requests are OPEN. Please read my Rules before requesting!

How would the pack react to finding out that you're pregnant with their baby?

Included: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale.

Warnings: usually I do GN readers for reactions but this one called for fem!reader - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and has the ability to get pregnant); in Lydia's section, the reader is a werewolf; mentions of the reader having typical pregnancy symptoms; sexual themes (baby making - duh), some sentences that could be considered smutty?; I think Isaac's part is the longest because we know I have a fucking soft spot for him; mentions of unprotected sex (again - duh); mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father (not detailed); umm idk what else - generally mature themes? But no major warnings other than that.

Stiles would freeze up. He would be so unsure how to react to the information that for a while, he wouldn't react at all.

When the words came out of your mouth, he thought he had misheard you.

"Stiles, I - I'm pregnant."

"What?" He gaped in response.

"I'm pregnant." You affirmed gently.

He sat there, frozen with shock, and didn't say anything for a long time.

He was overwhelmed with too many thoughts and emotions. He wanted to be happy, but he felt like he wasn't ready for this. But he also wasn't ready for half the things that had happened to him in life so far - being kidnapped (more than once), having friends die or nearly die around him, being possessed by a thousand year old demon and fighting to be freed.

This was good, right?

It was you. He wanted you, he wanted everything that came with a life with you.

But it was so soon.

His dad was going to kill him.

"Stiles, say something, please-" You begged quietly, and when your eyes began to brim with tears, that broke him free from his horrible shock.

He couldn't stand to see you hurt. He jumped off the bed and swept you into a hug, holding you tight. Instinctively, you squeezed him back, seeking the comfort that always came from his touch.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." He said, whispering into your neck. "I'm sorry, I know this is bad-"

"You think it's bad?" You posed in return, misconstruing his words. "So - so you don't want to keep it?"

His heart shook in his chest.

Of all the things he had been thinking, that was not one of them.

"No." He said sharply, pulling away from the hug to get a good look at your tearful face. Your features were still twisted with pain, and he absolutely hated it. "I just - I just meant that you're upset, and that's bad."

"Well - what about the pregnancy part?" You asked urgently. "What do you think about that part?"

"It's scary as hell." He answered honestly. Your lip quivered, and he rushed to say more. "But for once in my life, I think it's the good kind of scary, like - like roller coasters or scary movies where you know nobody actually gets hurt, or - or spicy hot wings." He rambled on. "I'm terrified, but I think this is gonna be amazing. There's nobody else that I'd rather have a baby with than you."

Saying the word 'baby' out loud made it all terribly real.

You gave him a wet, tearful smile, and then pulled him into a kiss.

Isaac would be upset and insecure.

After you told him, Isaac ran - he ditched out of your bedroom window, leaving you alone and tearful, and after you spent days in bed sobbing (your sadness likely multiplied by the pregnancy hormones), you would be determined to track him down. Even if he didn't agree to be a father, even if he didn't own up to it, at the very least, you needed to finish the conversation you had started. You needed closure - the end of the relationship, if that's what he wanted.

After days of him dodging you, you finally managed to catch him at Derek's loft. It was clear that he wanted to run again, but Derek's words about owning up to his responsibilities were ringing in his ears, and he decided that at the very least, he owed you an explanation. He would give you the conversation you so desperately wanted.

"What the fuck, Isaac?" You barked at him, tears edging in your eyes again at seeing him for the first time in a week. "What the hell is wrong with you? I-"

"You really want me to run down that fucking laundry list now?" He snapped, more bitter and rage fuelled than you had ever seen him. His voice caused chills down your spine. "Because I'm surprised it's taken you this long to notice one thing, let alone half of it!"

This was not the man who you had fallen in love with. This wasn't your sweet, loving Isaac. This wasn't the man who had taken you to bed, kissed over every inch of your body, made you so ripe with passion that something like a condom felt insignificant compared to the cosmos you saw in his eyes as he pushed his cock inside of you.

"Isaac, what are you talking about?" You asked, your voice small, barely edging above a whisper as you stared him down carefully, searching through his eyes - wondering if everything before this had just been an act to get you into bed.

All you saw boiling up inside of him was hurt, and it made you ache too.

"I don't expect you to know." He sighed fitfully, shaking his head.

You put a hand over your stomach, a protective instinct, and his gaze focused there. Regret splashed up inside of him, and he couldn't contain his next words.

"When you told me you were pregnant, did you expect the fucking sun to shine down and angels to sing and some fucking - Hallmark bullshit?" He questioned, clearly jaded.

You hadn't expected that, but you hadn't expected him to run away. Part of you expected him to be happy.

"I can't be happy about this." He told you, almost as if reading your mind. "I have shitty, horrible DNA. I'm a monster, Y/N." You gave him a puzzled look, and he continued. "I'm not talking about the werewolf thing - my father was a horrible person. You know that. I can't be around a kid. I can't have a baby. I can't risk it."

He said the last part softly, that terrible regret lacing his voice, and suddenly, in that moment, it all became crystal clear to you. He thought his father's abusive ways would be hereditary.

Your chest clenched with a horrible pain, and you wandered across the room toward him, and instinctively, he backed away from you.

"Don't." He said, continuing to eye your stomach sharply. You realized now that he thought he was protecting your baby by staying away from it, staying away from you.

You inched toward him again, this time managing to snag his hand, which you brought to place flat on your stomach. You were early in your pregnancy, not showing (your stomach not any different than it normally would be) - but something wolfish inside of him flared with protectiveness, something could sense that different thing about you. It was subtle, but he could feel and hear another heartbeat under his palm. He wanted to run again, but feeling this, being so close - it caused him to relax against you, instinctively wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Isaac, you're nothing like your father." You told him quietly. "You're not going to hurt our baby-"

"But what if I do?" He argued, his voice cracking with fear.

"You won't." You assured him. "We both know that you won't."

Lydia would be shocked - in denial. Because - what the fuck is happening? This shouldn't be scientifically possible, right? Right?

At first, she was convinced that you cheated on her. She freaked out about that. She screamed at you, threw things. You cried because you hated that she was accusing you of such a horrible crime, even if you understood why (to an extent). She shouldn't be able to get you pregnant, so it was perfectly sane to think that you had cheated on her with a guy during the course of your relationship - even though you hadn't. This was crazy. This shouldn't be possible.

When you had first started feeling the symptoms - the nausea, the irritability, the generally off feeling, something that kept nagging at you and had all of your senses on edge, you hadn't even thought to take a pregnancy test. Even when you missed your period, you assumed that it was stress, not eating right... a laundry list of other things before you would have assumed this.

But then - Derek pulled you aside and asked why you smelled like that. He said the only other time he had smelled it was when he was much younger - before the fire, when one of his aunts was pregnant. You told him that it wasn't possible, and he told you that his nose never lied.

So - driven crazy by the thought, and believing it to be impossible, you peed on the stupid little stick. And then another, and then another, entirely in disbelief. And when you dumped a bunch of pee covered sticks onto Scott's Mom's kitchen counter, much to her horror, asking her if there was any way they could be wrong. She told you it was unlikely, but took you to the hospital to get you a blood test, and when it came back positive, she asked you who the father was.

She gave you that same fish-gaped mouth when you told her.

"Lydia." You sighed. "Lydia is the father. She's the only person I've ever had sex with."

And this left you and Lydia in Derek's kitchen with him and Stiles, with your positive blood test sitting in the middle of the counter, Stiles pouring over every book he could find on the subject - all of you irritably confused.

"How?" Lydia gaped, still in shock. "How?"

"I don't know." Derek shrugged. "You tell me."

"And - and you didn't cheat on me?" Lydia asked you, still believing this to be the most logical answer.

"Yes." Derek answered, cutting you off. "She's not lying. That much I can tell you."

You were glad that he backed you up on this, but it still left everyone confused and searching for answers.

"Look, okay, Lydia - you survived the Alpha bite, you have some weird immunity." Stiles said, pausing between his frantic page flipping. "Maybe... this is what happens when you have sex with a werewolf?"

Lydia scoffed and you hid your face in your hands with embarrassment. You wondered if it had something to do with the full moon. The last time - you had been so full of energy, pulsing with power as the moon came to its fullness overhead, and you had pinned her down, spent hours rubbing your cunt raw against hers. But you never thought that anything the two of you did could result in a pregnancy.

"Maybe it would help if you tell me exactly what you two did?" Stiles suggested - he was thinking of it from a theoretical, scientific standpoint, not realizing how perverted this sounded until after it left his lips.

"Really?!" Lydia glared at him.

You picked up a nearby vase and threw it at him without hesitation, and he dodged it, causing it to smash against the wall behind his head, disintegrating into dust.

"Okay, bad idea!"

"Just shut up and keep reading."

Derek would be intensely protective. From the second the words came out of your mouth, the entire axis of his world shifted. Everything became about you and protecting you and your unborn baby.

"Derek, I think I'm pregnant."

Everything suddenly made sense. The change in your scent, the odd way you had been acting, the fact that you had been sick recently.

He couldn't contain the deep, feral growl he let out - the way his eyes lit up as the news fully overtook him. The flash of red made you mistake him as angry, and your entire body sagged.

"Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't just my fault-" You hissed sharply at him, and he cut you off by sealing his lips over your own, smothering you in an intense, hot, confusing kiss.

Of course he knew that it wasn't 'just your fault'. The two of you had sex plenty of times, but if he wasn't mistaken, he remembered the night vividly well-

You thought it would be funny to tease him by tempting him with a chase through the woods, and it ended with you stomach down in a clearing, your cheek pressed against the dirt while he fucked into you roughly from behind, growling warnings in your ear, telling you not to tease him again. (Which only made you want to do it again, and again.)

"Don't be sorry, moonflower." He mumbled against your lips, using his nickname for you. "Don't ever be sorry about this."

The passion that overtook his voice sent chills down your spine. You were speechless.

"Derek?" You questioned, a quiet chirp that almost died off in your throat.

"From now on, you don't leave my sight, do you understand me?" He said, gently running his knuckles across your face, as sweet and soothing as you had ever seen him.

Before, he had been subtle in his protection of you. Reaching over to snap on your seatbelt before you could do it yourself, always putting an arm around you, especially in the face of danger, making sure that he walked in front of you if thought there might be a threat around. He had never been this outright passionate about his protection of you before.

But he would never risk the life of his unborn child - he would never let anybody come between him and the woman who was going to mother that child. It was a sacred bond now.

"Yes, of course." You couldn't help but to agree.

Then, Derek surprised you when he knelt down in front of you, placing his forehead on your stomach and gently closing his eyes as if partaking in the solitude of prayer. Which, he was - uttering silent promises to your unborn child, worshipping at the altar of the powerful, beautiful woman who was going to bring that baby into this world.

It left you speechless once again, and all you could do was run your fingers through his hair, further adding to his peace.

[omega-e123]

Some another Vampire Shadow imagined from Vampire Hunter D. My sister in heavens I was reminded there was one official art from Shadow dressed up as a vampire I swear I’ve seen it before and you know how mysterious Shadow can be and he just fits THAT TYPE. I have to write it soon. I have to get my brain cycling and running.

Can you just imagine him, after bearing hatred for humanity for thousands of year but all crashes down when he encounters you and later begins to slowly falls for you?

Can you just imagine him not wanting to sink his fangs, fighting every urge just to take a sip from your blood yet, he does not want to hurt you and fears that he’ll frighten you?

SEGA I shall never forgive you for taking Shadow’s iconic fangs away.

You have like injected my brain worms with crack. What have you done to me. ❤️

Vampire!Shadow

He would be so over protective of you. Shadow wants to shelter you and hide every aspect of your relationship. It happened eons ago he lost Maria to a mob. The times might have changed, but he’s still so worried that it will happen again.

When you’re out and about, Shadow is true to his name. He follows you from afar, hiding in the shadows. Eliminating anything that poses a threat to you.

LETTING HIM DRINK FROM YOU. OH HOLY FUCK.

Shadow is trying so hard not to over do it. Asks for your hand to squeeze his so he can feel when it’s taken too far. If he can’t feel your hand squishing his, immediately stops. Either that or you have to count down from 100.

Leaving a trail of saliva from your throat to the side of your neck. Shadow presses his lips to that perfect little spot, sucking before sinking his fangs in.

So, so, soooooo many hickies on your neck and collarbones.

GIVE HIM BACK HIS FANGS SONIC TEAM. COWARDS!!! DONT TELL US HE FILED THEM DOWN.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

yeah can I request another one

thanks for your request!! sorry it took me so long to complete, there’s been a bit of a list as of late. here is another jameson x actress reader fic, hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

title: cheers rich boy

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you are an actress attending an event when a certain Hawthorne catches you off guard

warnings:

a/n: hope you enjoy reading 🤍🤍 apologies it took me AGES

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

Your bodyguard opens the door of your limo and you step out onto a blood red velvet carpet. The startling flashes of cameras are nothing to you now, paparazzi have become a common occurrence that you’ve gotten used to. You tentatively take your bodyguard’s extended arm, barely gripping it as the flashes increase. You smile, posing for a few shots, ignoring the thousands of questions being screamed at you.

“Are you dating anyone?”

“How much were you paid on your latest movie?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“I think I’m in love with you!”

“How many men have you slept with?”

“You look gorgeous!”

“Look over here! My camera!”

“I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!!”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at that last request. You follow your bodyguard into the large oak doors, with some sort of elaborate gold leaf design decorating them. He let your arm go and gave you a nod, as he skulked away. This is just another function for the rich and famous, nothing too special. You were used to them by now. They came easily and never made much of a memory. You had to show up, smile, make small talk, then leave. Simple.

Gracefully you walk through the doors, your navy blue gown trailing behind you a little. Ripples of silky fabric looking like a midnight waterfall, long and entrancing. Your head is held high, radiating the confidence you’d earned from years in this field. Now it was like second nature. Heads turned, eyes widened and fixated on you, smiles were shot in your direction. You are used to turning heads when you enter a room.

You acknowledge the ones you feel necessary and make your way to an area that looks the most isolated from the people. A few women you vaguely recognised approach you, taking your out of your princess moment.

“Your performance in ‘the high of love’ was simply exquisite,” one says, clutching to her heart.

You try not to cringe thinking about how you could never watch that movie back without critiquing your every move.

“Yes and in ‘opposites attract’,” another adds, “that was phenomenal!”

That one was even worse, you’d starred in that when you were only seventeen and quite new in the business.

“Thank you ladies, it’s so kind of you to say,” you smile, “I do try to give a good performance and I’m glad you enjoyed.”

They both give a polite nod and you take that as your chance to get away. Small talk had never really been your forte, much less small talk with the rich and famous, who usually weren’t the most interesting people to hold conversation with.

You make your way towards a casual champagne tower is perched in the centre of the large room and take a second to breathe in the surroundings. The room feels like a ballroom. Large glass windows that display the setting sun that splashes the sky in oranges, pinks and yellows. A million dollar chandelier hung in the centre, made up on expensive crystals and diamond-encrusted metal swirls.

You plan to stay as long as it take to get to the first speech and then sneak out the back when nobody was looking, it made it easier to avoid paparazzi then as well. Two birds, one stone. You spot a reasonably lonely area near a cabinet that was no doubt filled with precious and highly pricey antiques. But as you make your way over someone catches your eye.

People don’t catch your eye. Ever. But a mysterious man in a suit has. He’s gorgeous and probably dirt rich seen as he’s wearing an Armani suit, a deep ebony colour, that contrasted well with his eyes. His hair was dark, luscious and a little unruly but somehow he made it work. You couldn’t look away.

Why? That was what was bothering you the very much. Why on earth was some man at this function catch your eye and then further still play on your mind? It’s unlike you. You weren’t there type to sit around gawking at boys at events, you were headstrong, independent and didn’t need a man.

Mid thought, you look up just as he does. Harsh eye contact ensues. The green is like some sort of hypnosis that made you feel like a marionette. So alluring, so compelling. The connection so strong it felt unbreakable. Except it wasn’t. He looks away, unbothered. A feeling stirs in your stomach, an ignited spark of undignified annoyance. People don’t do that to you. They don’t turn their back unbothered, at least not your face. You have a reputation. People stopped and stared, people begged for your photograph, people cared. What was his deal?

You attempt to work out who he was. He was obviously famous or dating someone famous, which strangely you hoped he wasn’t, or he wouldn’t have been invited. You oddly recognise the parts of his face. The sharp jawline, angled nose, bold green eyes. But where from?

You were curious. Too curious.

Subtly you make your way towards the bar, close to the corner he is standing in. You hate yourself for secretly hoping he’ll notice and make his way over. You turn around to give him a second glance. Did he have to be so beautiful?

He makes eye contact and your heart suddenly picks up its pace, irritating you. You shouldn’t care this much that your body isn’t control of itself. You look him up and down and turn away. You could swear you’d seen a flicker of a smile of his face as your turned but it was too quick to be sure.

“One martini please,” you order with your polite smile plastered on your face.

“Make that two.”

You raise an eyebrow as the mystery man appears by your side. So you had gotten his attention.

“They’re on me,” he offers.

“I don’t need you to pay for me,” you tell him bluntly.

“Believe me I know that,” he smirks, “think of it as a gesture.”

“What kind of gesture?” you say, narrowing your eyes.

“One of honourable intention,” he assures you.

After a few moments of silent pondering you silently nod in agreement as the bartender rushes off. You can feel the man’s eyes pinned to you, but you don’t want to give into the temptation of looking back.

“Nice party,” he comments.

You cave and look back towards him, “quite,” you agree

“Are you here with anyone?” he asks.

“I don’t need anyone,” you reply sharply, more defensive than yours intended to come a cross.

“I’m sure you don’t,” he says the smile in his voice as well as on his face, he’s amused, “I’m here with my brother but I seem to have lost him.”

“Don’t you want to go and find him?” I wonder aloud.

“He’ll find his own way, he’s very resilient like that,” he explains.

The bartender comes back with the martinis at that moment and the man pays. Oddly you find yourself letting him. It’s nice being taken care of every once in a while. He slides a glass towards you, as you notice how the lighting made his green eyes a little bolder, fiercer.

“Enjoy moviestar,” he nods, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Cheers rich boy,” you say, with a whisper of a smile.

You take a swig from the glass. The refreshing burst of lemon hitting you before the strong gin sends the warmth into your chest.

He glances at you slightly, “I’m Jameson.”

“Jameson…” you prompt.

“Hawthorne,” he clarifies.

Hawthorne. Of course. It all made sense now. His sleek demeanour, his wicked smile, his addictive eyes. You remain neutral faced, not portraying what you thought for him to analyse. Hawthornes tended to do that.

“I’m-“

“I know exactly who you are,” he smiles, “how could anyone not with those eyes?”

A fluttery feeling invades your stomach, an unwanted guest in your body. You didn’t feel like this over people, especially not a man.

“My eyes?” you ask stupidly, as if in some sort of concussion-provoked daze.

“They’re breathtaking,” he compliments.

Red flushes through your cheeks and your face heats up, despite you not wanting it to. You try and ignore the compliment and not get so flustered by two words said by a sexy man in a suit.

“Then why did you look away from them so quickly earlier?” you challenge.

“Oh easy,” Jameson smirks with a shrug, “mind games.”

“Mind games?”

He nods, a wide smile on his face with a sparkling eyes, that send a twinge of annoyance down your spine.

“I don’t appreciate being toyed with,” you say in a disapproving tone.

“But I got your attention didn’t I?” he replies.

You feel like your tongue has been cut out as words don’t seem to remember how to form words.

“Would you have approached me otherwise?” he asks with a smirk.

“That doesn’t matter,” you say sharply, lying to myself as well as Jameson.

He quirks a brow, “doesn’t it?”

Yet again you find yourself scrambling for words like an incompetent idiot. Being at a loss for words was such an unfamiliarity it felt foreign. Why did he have this effect on you?

“So how about we get out of here?” he suggests, with a wink which I can only interpret as flirty.

You look at him, “just leave?”

“What? You’ve never pulled a runner on one of these tireless events?” Jameson chuckles, taking another sip of his martini.

“Of course I have,” you roll my eyes, “the bathroom window is my go to.”

It was true. The easiest way to slip away from these things unnoticed were bathroom windows, no one sees you leaving.

“Excellent so you already have the skill,” he replies, flashing me a grin, “what do you say we put it to the test?”

You pause for a few beats and then make the impulsive decision.

“Where were you thinking to go?” you ask, an eyebrow raised sceptically.

“Come with me and you’ll find out,” he smiles, face millimetres from mine.

You glance around, looking over your shoulder. No one was watching. It couldn’t hurt.

“You’re on Hawthorne,” you murmur, taking his hand.

a/n: if you haven’t read it already, there is another jameson x actress reader fic called starstruck and similarly a grayson x singer reader fic called paparazzi

TIG masterlist

[bunnysbrainrot]

Your Rightful Place

Relationship: Crowley x Reader

Content: suggestive language, nudity, sexual content/foreplay

Summary: Years after making friends with the King of Hell, your relationship has taken many strides to get you closer. Now lovers, you feel distant from him as a mere human. Crowley urges you to grow alongside him, pairing the two of you together to become an unstoppable force.

A/N: this was meant to be a smut-free oneshot, but nothing went as planned :P

It was late evening, a glowing moonlight illuminating the floor of Crowley’s master bedroom. You twisted under the silk sheets to face your lover. The two of you had come a long way to get to this point, overcoming many obstacles side by side. It had been tumultuous but worth it. As long as it meant you could be by Crowley’s side to support him.

He gazed at you getting lost in thought, as you often did. A lot more often, lately, though. Crowley smiled knowingly at your slightly furrowed brows and stare intently set on the bed space between you.

“My love,” purred the King. “You seem like you’ve wondered off somewhere.”

Your eyes met his, realizing how deep in your head you had been. Placing a hand on one of his own, you tangled your fingers with his, your tone soft and distant.

“I’m here.”

He raised your conjoined hands and planted a soft kiss across your knuckles. His lips were as soft as the sheets you laid on, the rough stubble around his mouth providing a tickling friction against your skin. You smiled at him and his token of affection.

“You looked like your mind wandered off. Care to clue me in on what’s in that head of yours?” Crowley brushed a loose lock of your hair back to see you fully, framing your face warmly in his hands. Your hand found his again, processing what to say.

“I love you… being with you. What we’ve created and done together, I wouldn’t change for anything,” you started. The King looked at you intently, listening to your every word with earnest.

“Sometimes,” you continued, “I feel like… even though we’re together, and I know that I’m valued. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be equal.”

If Crowley had a true human heart it would’ve broken at your words. Yet, he did understand that pure human emotion: a hint of greed. Or perhaps, that wasn’t that case with you. But he knew humans better, knew that they wanted power. Hell, they had been fighting for it for thousands of years, all creatures had.

Even still, he knew you weren’t a selfish person. At least, not completely self serving. Anything you did was to make yourself stronger to support others. What you said hadn’t surprised him, he could sense that there was much more to you upon meeting all those years ago.

“My darling,” he whispered, “I am…. hundreds of years old. Hundreds. The position I am in was an uphill climb from the start.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer toward him.

“But, being who I am is not easy. I have made decisions, brutal and cruel ones, to have my power. Those kinds of trials… that you would have to endure… it’s not something I would wish upon you.” Though the words struck deep, his voice was kind and sincere.

“I understand. I just,” you cut yourself off, “I think I could do more. Be more than I am. And… I feel like the only way I would do that is with you. Beside you.”

Crowley hummed in acknowledgement as you spoke, raising his eyebrows as he assessed what you said.

“You do realize that you wouldn’t be human anymore, yes? Nothing human has ever matched that level of power. It would be a great toll.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” you replied softly, shifting your head closer to his, lips inches apart. The air between you became thick with tension. Would you dare to say what was truly on your mind?

“What are you on about, darling?” He posed to you.

“You can turn me into a demon. If you need to, if that’s what it takes.”

Crowley wore a new expression of shock, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. Your statement hung in the air, more akin to a declaration. The King grazed his fingers along your back with feather-light touch.

“Sweetness, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“But could it be done?”

“Regardless of that, it could be fatal-“

“Can you do it?”

He froze and gave you a stern look, his eyes flashing with a deadly seriousness, “I won’t.”

A pain spread in your chest as his words hit you. There was simply no way for this to happen, not in a way that he would assist you with.

“Darling, if power is what you long for, there are other ways.”

Though tears pooled and fell past your cheeks, you anticipated what he would say next. His expression hardly edged into anything remotely angry, much to your relief.

“What does that mean…?”

“It means,” he drawled lazily, “that there are other powerful entities out there that don’t require that torture of getting to where they are.”

Wherever he was leading with this you had no clue. The rankings of Hell seemed pretty distinct, but it seemed like Crowley was alluding to something else entirely.

“Have you ever imagined yourself working with potions, herbs, and a bubbling cauldron?” Crowley teased you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“A witch? You’re telling me that being a witch would be equivalent.” Your tone fell flat, unamused at his jest. He offered a shrug. “I didn’t think witches could be all that powerful.”

“Make sure to never say that to my mother, or she’d have you coughing out your insides with a single word,” he huffed out a breath with disbelief. It was true, though. His mother had spent centuries studying and evolving in witchcraft, and it had brought her a virtually eternal life and power beyond anything of a standard human.

“I think it would be worth a try. At the very least, safer than whatever foolishness you were thinking about becoming a demon. But, I still have a feeling that there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

That was also true. Although you had broken the ice on the subject, the deepest truth of it hadn’t been said.

You muttered, “I want to feel worthy of being with you. To be able to help you.”

Crowley rolled over until he hovered above you, his arms framing your shoulders. He lowered himself onto you to meet his face to yours.

“You really think you’re not worthy?” To this, you nodded your head slightly, though he smiled. “My love, I can assure you that the thought had never crossed my mind.

You gave him another unamused stare, “Sure it hasn’t.”

The King simply stared, a smile still plastered to his lips, “You can choose to believe me, or not believe me. But, it’s the truth regardless.”

A moment passed before he spoke again.

“You want to be my Queen, don’t you? Is that what you want?”

You froze beneath him, not sure how to reply. But your silence gave Crowley the answer he needed. Suddenly his lips crashed to yours, moving in a languid rhythm that brought a hum out of you. He broke away enough for your lips to part.

“And what if I did make you Queen? To let you rule by my side, it would be quite the role,” he murmured against your jaw, climbing his way to the soft spot under your ear. You wriggled beneath him at the sensation while a creeping blush spread across your cheeks.

His voice became more gravelly than before, rattling against your neck, “Picture it, sweetheart. You and me… on the throne, the epitome of elegance and power. Yes… I can picture it now.”

As his mind began to wander so did his hands. Crowley rested his weight on one arm while the other was free to roam over you - across your collarbone to your chest, from each perked nipple down to your stomach, stopping just above the tightening between your thighs. You let out a bated breath, once again overcome by his touch. Crowley breathed a laugh against your skin.

“Can you imagine the ways I could fuck you senseless on that throne? I can. And it… is… glorious.”

His mouth moved downward, leaving slow kisses along the way before reaching your breasts. Your back arched into his touch in an attempt for more friction. Crowley let out a laugh against a perk nipple, resting between his lips while his tongue lapped in circles across the bud. A cry fell past your lips.

“It fits, you know,” he muttered against your supple skin, “you being by my side. A Queen. The potential you hold, my dear…”

A stray finger made a path up your thigh, skirting upward to your sex, aching for him. He passed a single digit through your folds, a soft cry falling past your lips at the touch to your swollen clit.

Crowley raised his head from your chest to gaze at you, a longing look in his eyes. He hadn’t looked this entranced in a while, and it was only whenever he was with you. You gave him a breathy smile, your eyes half lidded with lust.

“Yes,” whispered the King, “You would make a perfect Queen.”

He dipped lower toward your thighs, “Absolutely perfect.”

————

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, let me know; I have plans for this to become a series if you would like to see it happen. Happy reading!

[whispering-radiance]

[Rc9gn OC] Goddess of Amber, creator of the Eye of Eternity |

Ladies, gentlemen and nonbinary folks, I’ve finally finished this introduction card for this gorgeous lady — Some of you might’ve already seen her on some of my drawings, but she didn’t have a proper introduction. As usual, you can read more in the section below : D

————————————————————————

Actually, the idea for this character popped to my head when I was rewatching some episodes, and I focused all my attention on the Eye of eternities. Like—woah! That’s a cool and important item, but … where did it come from? Like— it’s always “and the ninja had this magical stone and used it to do this and this” so he just had a powerful artifact in his back pocket? I didn’t question it 10 years ago, but now I have a power of imagination and ability to draw — So I played around with this concept

————————————————————————

As it’s written on the card, she’s the goddess of amber. Even though she’s one of the divine, she’s not really considered to be very powerful— and so she doesn’t really have lost of recognition anywhere.

As for her character— She has her own system and ways of doing things, she’s harsh and rarely accepts change. Things rarely catch her attention, only when something extraordinary happens, she will get interested.— And I get her, she’s old, very old— at some point you simply loose interest in the mundane, especially if you have seen it happen for thousands of years. Amber spends her days in solitude, away from noisy people and other gods — she prefers to focus all her energy on her craft rather than social interactions.

What she crafts? Well, mainly enchanted amber. With it she’s able to capture almost everything— but I’m not talking only about organic things— many essences can be kept in such form— Feeling, music, memories, spirit— It helps her relive the moments even from hundreds of years ago.

She’s also found of making jewelry— In the picture she’s holding a string of amber that will eventually become a necklace like this:

(My grandma has this bad boy— I have many found memories of playing with it)

————————————————————————

Amber met First Ninja on accident— After he was defeated by Tengu, he was badly injured and casted down from its mountain — Luckily his agonizing tumble ended in Amber’s garden— At first she was annoyed with the intruder, but seeing how he somehow survived all the suffering, sparked some attention towards him.

She patched him up and listened to his stories — Probably the tails of the sorcerer and the threat he posed, stirred something inside her— If chaos destroyed the land, she would lose her peaceful life.

So she helped him recover, and even taught him a few new moves. After defeating the Tengu she decided that she wants to preserve peace across whole land — finally she has found a new calling in her life.

—————————-

- I’ve tried looking into it, but I didn’t really find anything about the symbolism of the carp in the series— Seeing how it’s always connected with the Eye of Eternities— I might as well make a silly connection, that Carp is her symbol — Also, let me add this stupid fun fact — The sea in my country (Poland 🗣️‼️‼️)is known for its amber — So fish equals sea and that reminds me of amber.

- She probably looked less elegant while traveling and fighting with the Ninja, but I haven’t designed that yet

- When I’m referring to “Gods” or “Heavenly” I don’t have any of my characters in mind — I usually think about Japanese pantheon

—————————-

There are three words that might need some clarification, so here it goes:

- 古樹の女神 (Koju no Megami) - It roughly translates to “Goddess of Ancient trees” Amber starts as a sap from a tree, and takes some sweet time to form into its solid gem form. So this title is quite fitting

- 樹液 (Jueki) - It literally means sap — It’s kind of a pet name for her? Or a name you’d call your sweetheart— To be honest it’s only used by some of her closest friends— Others call her Amber or just refer to her as Lady.

- Naginata - is a polearm and one of several varieties of traditionally made Japanese blades (Wikipedia)

————————————————————————

“You’re putting a lot of work into characters for a teen show from 10 years ago”

Yeah— but it’s nothing compared to what I did for Generator Rex — Making characters and stories helps me enjoy the show 3x more!!

[nanowrimo]

How to Find Hope for Completing Your Writing Goals

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Campfire, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a writing and worldbuilding platform to help you create an immersive experience benefitting both authors and readers. Today, Campfire Community Manager Emory Glass shares some words on having hope when writing feels overwhelming:

It has been 3,265 days since I won NaNoWriMo. I was 16 and wrote 75,000 words. It was exhilarating and cathartic and everything I ever dreamt of.

Tomorrow it will be 3,266 days since I won NaNoWriMo. I look back on my projects thinking, “2,500 words a day is lightspeed. The words flowed so freely then, so quickly.” I want to be a writer–I am a writer. It is my identity, my purpose, my reason, yet I cannot bring myself to finish what I have begun.

The next day it will have been 3,267 days since I won NaNoWriMo. The words do not fly from my fingertips but crawl, sapped of energy, the page a grave for ink stains posing as letters. I talk to my characters often. My writer friends tell me I speak of them as if they were real people, but I cannot seem to lift the weight of their stories from my mind. Still, I have no platform, no audience, no one eagerly watching for the next installment.

The day after it will have been 3,268 days since I won NaNoWriMo. Two publications, no published novels, hundreds of thousands of words gathering dust. I am no writer, I am a collector of words. There must be something wrong with me. I have so much to tell, so much to share, so much to create, but here I am not telling, not sharing, not creating.

One day it will have been 3,269 days since I won NaNoWriMo. I will not have published a book, I will not have a new story, I will not have an audience or a platform or one–just one–person looking forward to what happens next.

But I will not give up.

"...and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." (Friedrich Nietzsche)

It's rather typical for a dark fantasy writer to peer into the void, but it quickly becomes an intoxication and an excuse to never move a muscle. Do not succumb. Push forward, even if you barely move an inch. If you wish to be a builder, you build. If you wish to be a fighter, you fight. If you wish to be a writer, you write.

Brute force seems barbaric. Should words not spill onto the page? It is said that art cannot be coerced or bent to one's own will; it comes easily, naturally, swiftly. The very best art is created in a creative frenzy, so they say, and the very best artists are recognized in memoriam.

But if you delay and evade and wither your ambition as you count the days since your last success, your oeuvre halts and is buried and perishes by your own hand. So if you, like me, too often find yourself peering into the void where the words have gone to fade away, cleave to the remedy for its gaze: hope. This is the heart of creation. Laudation and lucrativeness are but two measures of success. They will not themselves burst a dam of words within you and imbue every project with Midas' touch. Creative fever is not catching–you must seek it out.

Give yourself a reason to write even when you do not want to or it feels too Herculean a task. If you seek new horizons, a useful tool, or a supportive community to accompany you on this odyssey, enlist Campfire to help. Whether it behooves you to squeeze out words on your mobile device, stay focused offline with a desktop application, or keep inspiration at hand via browser-based work and Discord chats, it's the best place to bring your stories to life.

NaNoWriMo participants can save on Campfire’s writing software! Use the discount code LETSGONANO23 for 30% off your first year of an annual subscription to our Standard Plan. It’s free to create an account. Offer expires March 31, 2024.

Emory Glass is an avid artist, worldbuilder, and author with a passion for strong female characters in leading roles and meticulous attention to detail in lore. She loves tea, learning Scottish Gaelic, continuing her work on The Chroma Books, a series of interconnected stories, and running Inkblood Book Company for similarly enthusiastic dark fantasy writers. When not chasing down stories, Emory works as the Community Manager at Campfire.

Top photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash.

[nocturnalazure]

For those interested, I have made a music video with all the Xmas Special shots!

As (ominously) explained by Grimmy, this was completely non-canon, so not really an update per se. There are too many impossibilities. Sam and Laurie have a 15-year age gap, but they look almost the same age in this shooting. Theo would have been way too old to still be alive (although I did make him look older than he was in the story when he died, thank you @danjaley for the grandfather poses!). Elsie would never have been adopted by Ivy and given to Laurie. Even Sam and Nathaniel's conflict was cleared too easily.

I have already shown two Christmases at the Golzine's, and those were part of the story itself. The first one was in 2014, when Nathaniel and Ivy had just gotten together. The second Christmas was in 2018, and that was when Sam and Nathaniel's relationship had deteriorated. But this time, for once, I wanted to see all the family members together, as they could have been if they had all been alive and closer in age. In this one, Ange is over the moon: she has felt isolated for so long, she would have loved taking care of a big family. Theo is grumpy, first because he's getting old, but also because he still sees Ash as Nathaniel's mistake and therefore doesn't consider him part of the family. He can't help but snap at his son, and Nathaniel can't help but be resentful. Nate pulls a face when he gets out of the car because he dreads spending a whole evening getting criticized by his father. Which starts the moment Nate sets foot in the house: he's not wearing a tie and that is unacceptable! On the other hand, Theo's soft spot for Sam is clearly visible when she gives him a peck on the cheek and he's the one who claps the loudest when Ange presents her cake! :D (the cake itself is the baked angel food cake, because of course that is what Ange would bake)

As for Sam and Laurie, I've always described their relationship as 'healthy competition'', but I have a feeling that Sam would get on Laurie's nerves sometimes: she's quite a handful, let's be honest. :D That, and she is still the favorite child. But they love teasing each other, and when they're not playfully fighting over who the actual heir is, they sure know how to work together. Ivy plays it cool but she is so proud of her kids (I love that pic of her with Laurie and Sam!). And she's generous in accepting Ash unconditionally.

Laurie and Ash would have gotten along like two peas in a pod. That's why I showed the two of them having a walk in the snow, engrossed in their conversation. And I think Nathaniel would have been really happy for an opportunity to get to know Ash.

Erik (who does not wear the ankh necklace, which means that his father is also alive and well :)) would have felt very awkward, being formally introduced as Laurie's boyfriend. He's very much aware that he's lower on the social scale and he would have been dead scared of Theo! xD Laurie would have briefed Erik in detail about what he should do and not do in front of his grandfather, like which fork to use and above all: "wear a tie!" Even so, Erik couldn't resist rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie before sneaking away for a smoke. xD

Did you notice the little nods to the actual story? Erik lighting Nathaniel's cigarette like Seth has done a thousand times, Nathaniel and Ivy taking a bath together (which is how they got busted by Sen aeons ago xD), Theo kicking Laurie's ass at chess, Ash finding comfort in petting a dog, Sam and Ash platonically sharing a single bed like they did at the dorm, and of course Laurie and Erik being together in this AU, even if nothing dramatic binds them this time.

I also wanted a moment in which Laurie is the center of everyone's attention and his whole family gathers around him. The poor boy needs it so much. The spontaneous expression on his face in that unused screenshot below breaks my heart. It's like he knows this is all a dream. 💔

I had written a long, depressing post about how 2023 was one of my worst years yet on a personal level, but I will keep that one to myself, it’s out of my heart now that it’s written down. Instead of dwelling on the bad stuff, I had a lot of fun shooting this non-canon update. I’m grateful to have my little space on here, and the incredible luck to have you guys to share my story with and inspire me with your talent. I’d rather focus on that for the year to come!

Wishing you a wonderful New Year's Eve! Thank you for your support throughout 2023. ❤️

[twiceasfrustrating]

A New Look

Rating: Teen and Up Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Relationship: Diavolo x Simeon Characters: Diavolo, Simeon Additional Tags: Fluff, mentions of nudity as a part of daily life Summary: Diavolo tries on some clothing from the Celestial Realm and wants Simeon's opinion  A/N: How long has it been since I posted something to this blog? Jeez. All my fandoms lately are strictly on the nsfw side so this blog has been suffering a lot. I also haven’t written for OM in so long since I stopped playing the game. Ooops. Have to remember who these characters really are. It may be a bit rough with their characterization. Word Count: 1151

“How do I look?” Diavolo asks, purposefully posing and twirling as dynamically as he can to show off the outfit he asked Simeon to borrow from the Celestial Realm on his behalf.

The outfit, like most Celestial clothing, is white from chest to ankle. In Diavolo’s case, he is wearing a simple ensemble that consists of a top that starts at his neck and only goes down low enough to modestly cover his chest and upper back. There is a light gold streak running down his right side to act as a simple accent. The blue-white gradient pants start just below his navel and stretch down to his calves. They look tight on him, which is common for Celestial clothing, but Simeon worries about Diavolo’s mobility all the same.

The majority of the outfit’s shape doesn’t come from the top or pants, however. The sheer overcoat – similar to the grandeur of a bride’s veil on her wedding day – that hangs over Diavolo is far more bulky than anything else. It sits around his upper arms, the long sleeves stretching past his hands and flowing freely with each movement. The overcoat stretches all the way to his ankles like a skirt.

Simeon claps politely. “You look nice.”

It feels strange to say anything else. It would be dishonest to say the clothing – white and loose against his skin, flowing freely as if it was blown by an immaterial wind – did not suit him, but it would also feel blasphemous to say that the prince of the Devildom looked good in the ensemble. Still, Simeon has a brief thought that, as much as he enjoys the sight of Diavolo in his home fashion, he looks better in his usual attire.

“Nice is good.” Diavolo laughs, satisfied enough with Simeon's answer. “I didn't think Celestial clothes would fit me so well or that they would be so cool.”

“It's the magic woven into the fabric. Many angels have to deal with a variety of temperatures and environments, so it's important to make clothing suited to any given situation. The magic acts like insulation, keeping the temperature of the wearer stable. Additionally, angels that choose a human charge need extra durability and flexibility so-”

Diavolo listens intently, placing a hand over his mouth to hide the silly smile crawling across his face as Simeon speaks. He is charming as he speaks about the clothing of his home realm, listing all matter of facts and small minutiae.

“You know a lot about fashion.”

Simeon stops mid-sentence. 

His eyes dart to the side, then downward. “Not particularly.”

Diavolo's smile never falters as he continues. “But you were just talking all about what makes Celestial Realm clothing special and why it's designed that way. That seems like passion to me.”

“I’m not actually passionate about the current state of fashion. If you want someone who understands trends, it would be better to speak to Asmodeus. Celestial Realm fashion hasn’t changed in some few thousand years, so he should still know about it better than I do.”

“But you seem to know so much.”

“That’s because-” Simeon pauses, trying to find the exact words that won’t make a fool out of him. Eventually, he decides that the truth is nothing to be ashamed of, even if it is mildly embarrassing. “I knew you would have questions, so I tried to learn the basics.”

“Oh…” 

Diavolo’s reaction is outwardly reserved, but he is fighting the rising heat in his face that feels as if it will melt him from the inside out. It was one thing to ask Simeon for a favor so that he could better understand a small part of the Celestial Realm’s culture – for the clothing of a people tells you a lot about them and their way of life – but it is another to know that Simeon went out of his way for his sake. It feels far more intimate than such a small kindness should have.

And, when he glances at Simeon’s face, it is clear that he is not the only one that understands the implications in their exchange.

Diavolo has to get the discussion back on topic.

“Can I ask why Celestial fashion hasn’t changed in thousands of years?”

Humans changed fashion trends every few decades at least. Demons, though not as often, also frequently changed the clothing they wore. He found it strange that the angels did not switch out their clothing at least once every few centuries.

“That’s because most angels don’t actually care for fashion in the first place, so there is no reason to stay on top of evolving trends. Most of us would actually prefer not to wear clothing at all. We only do it for foreign relation reasons because the other realms seem to consider it unsightly to walk around without them. At best, there is a race for the functionality of the magic woven into the fabric, but that’s more akin to being the first to discover it and share your findings with others than it is to claim a new magic for your own benefit.”

Somehow, Simeon misses the implication that angels are nudists.

“I guess that explains why all of your clothing lacks fabric,” Diavolo says without any malicious intent, but Simeon furrows his brows in disapproval regardless.

“That’s an insensitive way to put it, but I suppose that is technically correct.”

“Sorry.” Even as he apologizes, Diavolo is laughing. “But I think it’s your turn now.”

“Hm?” Simeon hums in confusion.

“We’re exchanging clothing today, aren’t we?” Diavolo grabs the outer bottom of the overcoat and lifts it high so that it won’t tangle around his ankles. He begins to march toward the large clothing bag that he had placed to the side much earlier. Up until now, Simeon had assumed it was simply another outfit Diavolo would need to change into later. “I have something for you too.”

Simeon raises both of his hands and turns his face away as he refuses to see what Diavolo could possibly have brought. “It’d rather not. Devildom clothing is very hot.”

That made Diavolo pause for a moment.

He seems to think before smiling and answering Simeon’s concern. “We’ll cut off some of the fabric so you’re more comfortable.”

“That’s not-”

“I promise,” Diavolo says as he picks up the large black clothing bag and holds it toward Simeon so he can take it, “it’ll be fun.”

His smile is bright and beaming as he stares at Simeon with mischief and wonder in his eyes. Framed in white and looking so pleased, it would be easy for an onlooker to mistake Diavolo for an angel, but Simeon only sees the demon that he truly is.

Simeon signs as he resigns himself to Diavolo’s whims, already feeling heat building inside of his stomach and twisting it into knots as he takes the outfit from his hands.

[realcleverscience]

I've been interested in radical life extension since first reading some Kurzweil books around 2007, nearly 20 years ago.

At the time, when I discussed the idea most people reacted like I was insane. Sooo... really glad to see this topic getting more attention and being taken seriously now. For instance, I believe there's an x-prize now for longevity, which indicates they think these are goals we can start to realistically achieve.

That's important bc obviously humanity has *talked* about radical life extensions for literally thousands of years. When DNA was being first understood in the early 1900s, people talked about extending life. When the human genome project began in the 1990s, again we spoke about potential healthspan breakthroughs. But decades have passed with little progress, so it's understandable why even those interested in the technologies and concepts might be disillusioned. Like fusion energy, it always appeared 30 years away... forever.

However, like fusion energy, we are achieving practical steps which make it seem like those goals are actually within reach now. For instance, while we've known about genes for a hundred years now, we are only *just now* starting to edit and manipulate them.

Aging is still not fully understood, but it seems primarily to function at the cellular level - things like DNA, RNA, mitochondria, and connections and communications between cells, etc. These are complex interactions and sciences, but we are reaching a point or unprecedented control at those levels.

Additionally, what the "perpetually 30 years away" attitude also misses is that the pace of scientific advances grows faster over time. "30 years" of scientific research in the early 1900s might be closer to 10 years of research today. This applies to the growth of AI in medical advances as well. Not only are AI capabilities growing dramatically each year; those AIs are helping us to unlock knowledge, materials, and abilities in other fields as well. (As mentioned, genetic-level medical interventions are finally happening, and there's an avalanche of research and breakthroughs happening.)

So it's certainly possible that I'm wrong, and that life extension techs will always be '30 years away', and I'm failing to appreciate that lesson of history... but I think there are *very* good reasons to think that we are close to breakthroughs. Which poses an important question for society:

Do you want to get old and die like your grandparents, continually weakening and growing increasingly ill till you die at around age 90?

Personally, I'd love to halt my biological aging, improve and extend my "health-span", and to live at least an extra 50 years to explore all the new amazing thing science will produce in that time.

We can be another generation that lives and dies and is forgotten, or we can invest in research to fight back the grim reaper and bring that '30 year' window closer to fruition.

What do you want?

p.s. Yes, there are important social issues tied to this that require important discussion and policy guardrails, etc. And yes, maybe not everyone wants to live for 1,000 years (and they wouldn't have to). That said, it's very rare to find someone excited about getting older, weaker, and dying.

[esevik]

Chapter 5

One of the first things Seivarden asks after waking up is to have a cup of tea, Radchaai really is the empire of tea! (I'm actually surprised at how often they talk about tea or compare other drinks to tea.)

On a more serious note they meet with Strigan which leads to interesting conversations. There are still not really any answers but we do get a goal. So what we learned this chapter was:

-Protag uses an alias, Breq, which I'll be using now for them too until stated otherwise. -Seivarden is probably using he/him pronouns so that's what I'll do too. -Seivarden conscious is not that fun to be around, his aristocratic upbringing is probably partly to blame, and he holds firmly in Radchaai's propaganda that only Radchaai is civilized and that everyone else are a lower life-form. Hopefully he gets a "asshole gets humbled and becomes a better person" arc. -Radchaair citizens are able to live up to 200 years. -Strigan is fairly good at deducing things and has a fun dynamic with Breq. -Strigan is a doctor (can have been mentioned before but I'd forgotten). -Berq is looking for a gun Strigan is hiding. This is a gun that has been missing for 1-2 thousand years. It originates with Garseddai who were a culture obsessed with fives and had the technology to create guns that could shoot invisibly bullets that penetrated Radchaair's armor. In all the history of Radchaai it was the only time someone had managed to "sink" one of their ships. Berq wants the missing gun to sink another. It doesn't surprise me that Berq wants to fight the Radchaai since it was pretty well hinted that they were a deserter/traitor but now their goal is clear. Also, for all of the thousands of years they served Radchaai dutifully, what was it that happened with the Ors that was the last drop? What was the action of Radchaai that made Berq turn on them? -Just a thought I had with the other 24 guns Radchaai confiscated. What happened with them? Are they just stored somewhere? Destroyed? I feel like the logical thing to do would be to try to replicate the technology to use for themselves but there is no mention of that. It also sounds like these guns pose a threat. So what happened with them? Why isn't Berq trying to get their hands on those?

[noodleblade]

well if we are sending you these: soundwave

we do tfp soundwave. as a treat <3

First impression: ngl it was my first transformers media....kind of ever and I had a hard time telling him and starscream apart in the beginning sdvnfskljdfnkwfnvksfnkjjsdfnwjknjksfnjwrf

Impression now: love of my life, favoritest fella, bestest guy. I love him so much. i have genuine excitement whenever he is A posing in the background of a scene. Once i figured out who he was, not a scene would go by where i would just point at him while he was typing on the computer in the background i love him sososososos much.

Favorite moment: again (from the knock out one), the scene with Starscream and Knock Out trying to convince him to pull the plug on Megatron. The creators of the show managed to put so much meaning and emotion behind his every move and it makes me absolutely insane.

Idea for a story: ahhh i have a Soundstar one waaaaay on the backburner (I have to finish my other soundstar fic before i look at this one) but I wanted to explore Soundwave's gladiator background and history by uhhh at some point Skywarp collecting bootleg films of the gladiator fights and showing them to Thundercracker and Starscream and them running into Soundwave's and for years Starscream is obsessed with trying to figure out how Gladiator!Soundwave became the Soundwave he has the (dis)pleasure of working with everyday. It rattles around in my brain I have a chapter of it written but like it'll probably be rewritten as I figure out the remaining plot one day.

Unpopular opinion: there is not secret face under the visor. his visor is just his face. I think his visor is such a neat way to have him emote and communicate that i prefer it to any face people think may lie beneath

Favorite relationship: Starscream. I know I've been doing two of these for each but quite frankly, I am invested in every single avenue of their potential relationships: platonically, professionally, amorously, maliciously. I want to read thousands of words about them. They ;---;

Favorite headcanon: currently what's been rotating in my brain and will be used for a prompt fill is uhhh Soundwave being able to communicate in great lengths with the most minute movements of his head. Like full blown conversations while barely moving and reacting. I think his can convey a lot without doing much, especially with people that have worked with him for a long time: megatron, starscream etc.

[eurydia]

I have died everyday waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more

detail and musings below (spoilers)

I didn't draw their height accurately here; when I rewatched their scenes, I forgot that when Rayvis is kneeling he's almost the same height as Dagan. but I really wanted to do this pose with them c:

below are some thoughts and headcanons. I finished the game a few weeks ago and have been sitting on all this, lol. Rayvis, Dagan and Santari were all interesting and well-written characters; I loved them! spoilers for Jedi: Survivor ahead:

edit: made a fanmix for them - a thousand years

you know how much I love the king and lionheart trope! so you can imagine my excitement when I discovered Dagan and Rayvis' story! they're a wonderful example of it. and I am so predictable.

Rayvis waited for him for 200 years. didn't stop looking for him, and killed a lot of people in the process of trying to find him. by the time we meet Rayvis in game, he's this weary warrior who wants to stop fighting. the years of not having Dagan by his side must've been so lonely and wore him down emotionally. I immediately thought of Christina Perri's A Thousand Years. ughhh my heart

the oath scene. wow, lots to unpack here, this is the scene that got me shipping them:

it implies that whenever Rayvis is talking about something personal, he kneels. which makes them eye level to each other and visually shows them as equals. and we get to see this compelling scene:

Rayvis: "The galaxy has changed. There are many wars, but little honor to be won from them." Dagan: "Once we are on Tanalorr, perhaps we can dream up a new war, you and I."

Dagan sees a future with Rayvis. and though Rayvis seemed to be considering the offer, I interpreted his reaction to him, and eventually to Cal, as him not feeling the same way.

I feel like Rayvis is not just talking about the galaxy, but also about himself. he ages differently; he's been through a lot while Dagan was in the bacta. Dagan didn't go through that period where he wasn't with his old friend. I wish we got a scene where they talk about this - but that's what fic and art is for xD

I think part of the reason Rayvis forces Cal to kill him is because if he doesn't, the only other Jedi who can is Dagan. and that might be a fate worse than imprisonment for him

I'd like to think Dagan calls him Ray sometimes

summary: they're in love your honor. I will use the shiptag: Dagvis. thanks for reading 💜

[bloodhoundluke]

➢ instagram blurb pt. 1

pairing: luke hemmings x girlfriend!reader (fc: camila cabello)

y/n/n = your nickname

y/s/n = your ship name

a/n: so i wanted to try a new thing! let me know if you liked this (or not) 🥺 i quite enjoyed making this!

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ashtonirwin and 283,345 others

yourinstagram recently i've been bopping to new 5sos jams and taking selfies

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lukehemmings so this is why you take so long in the bathroom huh?

5sosloverofmine is that luke's cap on the background? 🥺

yourbestfriend i LOVE you. gorgeous 🥰

ashtonirwin Cool shirt my friend!

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, almondmilkhunni and 291,173 others

yourinstagram pre-show fun

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almondmilkhunni girlfriend 🌟🖤

teeth5sos1 Luke we are coming for your girlfriend. I hope you can fight.

lukehemmings i think i have to continue my boxing classes then

yourinstagram ily 🤣

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, michaelclifford and 300,019 others

yourinstagram @lukehemmings one of the best parts of dating you is your magnificent wardrobe.

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lukehemmings HOly SHIT

lukehemmings you definitely look better in that shirt than me 🫠

michaelclifford I have to agree on this one brother

5sosfan930 This is the cutest thing ever 😭 My (y/s/n) heart ❤️

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram is this how the cool kids pose?

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calumhood Where are the credits for me taking the photo?

calumhood Just kidding! You look fabulous

yourinstagram you're a funny one cal...but thank you 🥹

lukehemmings i have heard a rumour or two that this is how you do it. you look great bubs ❤️

yourinstagram you are too cute ❤️

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram lover of mine 🖤

i know i've said this a thousand times already, but you make me the happiest. you are my rock. my safe haven. with you, the time passes quicker than ever. and i never knew i loved glitter until i met you. hell, i never knew i even liked reality tv shows until i met you. happy 3 years bubs 🥰

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michaelclifford Holy shit this is cute. You are cute. Happy anniversary!

almondmilkhunni i love u guys, happy anniversary 🥰🎀

lukehemmings i love you (y/n/n) 🥺❤️❤️

lukehemmings

Liked by yourinstagram, ashtonirwin and 403,999 others

lukehemmings I found this old gem from my gallery... It's funny to look back to this photo since we weren't even dating at the time. You complimented my shirt, and that made my hands sweat. You can probably see how sweaty I was from this photo if you take a closer look.

But in all seriousness, I am the happiest I've ever been with you. I love you to the moon and back ❤️

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yourinstagram don't make me sob lucas 🥹💗

lukehemmings i really need you stop calling me that 🤕

yourinstagram is lulu better?

lukehemmings it's 1000000x better 🫠

// credits: manip 1: @ittybittylittlebit-hotot & 2: @vcdette

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