and alaric too

Quick Replies

wannabecatwriter replied to your post: “I downloaded some premade fairytale sims for my save ( Because lazy :D…”

He looks cute for a bad guy

Exactly. He uses those looks, too.

He already has his eye on attacking Alaric’s family, too. Actually got a wish to do some harm to Alaric’s daughter :O

wannabecatwriter replied to your post: “ I finally made a Kuzco sim after being too lazy. Me and CAS do not…”

Yes!!! Put Kuzco in with the girls! His ego can give anyone a run for their money.

Kuzco agrees. 

Except it can be hard, being an Emperor of an entire civilization, living with those plebian princesses.

parystrange replied to your post: “I’m having the bad guys get some of their magic skills done because I…”

There’s always someone who’s just gotta spoil the fun.

It depends on whose definition of fun is being perpetuated. :P

Tonight {BK Regency Fic Pt. 4}

OK guys! Stefonnie techincally won the poll but I’ve been getting inboxes and messages asking about BK so …. here is the fourth part to The Tudor-esque Bonkai fanfiction. I hope I’m doing a good job in building suspense and tension so please let me know! I do not historical accuracy, in fact absolutely nothing is historically correct so people keep that in mind when you inbox me questions, haha.

The first part:

The second part:

The third part:

People to tag: @misslilmel @kissmebluesexyvioletsme @humbu-bumbu @wasabicakes @youareatypo @bonkai-is-life @bonkai-diaries @bonkaimonluv @malachaibennett @darkbonkai @jordanjanellejoy @bonkaicoven @bonkais-witchywoo @bonkais-aurora-borealis @writeturnlove @tvtaughtmehowtofeel @mysticfalls-originals @offlinebonkai @queensfelicity @sunnydrive92 @tasha-sews @ecksnohhs @l0nd0ninnit @lisaluvslife @seeyda @beccacupcakesxo @giggleangel

*not my gif*

“ The only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you
I was born sick, but I love it
Command me to be well”

— Hozier, Take Me To Church

A choir of children sang in ghostly beautiful tones that echoed throughout the crowded yet quiet cathedral.  King Malachai and Queen Caroline knelt before the priest as Bonnie stood to the side with the other ladies-in-waiting, her eyes fixed on the pulpit. She felt it, though. His presence.  Everything in her body was attuned to it, everything in her head was singing, screaming, and each time he glanced at her for the briefest of seconds, her heart skipped or it stopped, she was arrested by something that felt like death then he would look away and she would, could go back to living. Not too long after, a frost would chill her skin and she knew Queen Caroline’s eyes had found her as well usually moments after her husband had gazed at her.

           “You must put yourself in his way,” Damon had said a fortnight earlier. They’d been in Naples then, emptying the family estate of their things. Elena had been in her bedroom, directing the servants on what to pack away and Bonnie, Damon and her father had been in the study, communing.

           “Of course you must be subtle,” said Alaric. He was sitting at his desk, reading. His tone was innocuous but Bonnie knew his ears were peeled to detect any sort of flaw in their plan. “We don’t need the court thinking you are some kind of strumpet.”

           “Yes, Papa,” said Bonnie.

           “Be delicate but willful,” said Damon. “You must leave an impression but not be too conspicuous.”

           Alaric put down his book. “Oh come now, Damon,” he said. “We don’t really need to coach her like this, our Bonnie is an expert in seduction.”

           Bonnie felt the implicit threat in his tone, the demand that she rise to the challenge and exceed expectations, for success would endear her to him forever but failure would be met with brutal repercussion; possibly disownment — illegitimacy.

           “Seduction or manipulation?” said Damon, a little churlishly.

           “Synonyms, dear nephew,” said Alaric.

           A servant appeared in the doorway. “Excuse me, my Lord, Lady Elena would like a word with you.”

           Alaric nodded once and the servant scurried away. He stood up from his chair. “I expect you two to continue in my absence,” he said, walking out of the room. 

“I think we’ve gone over this enough times already.” Bonnie had moved to leave when Damon blocked her path.

“Whatever you may be feeling, you musn’t spread your legs for the King so easily.”

“I believe I was the one who brought up that point, cousin,” said Bonnie, her eyes angry slits. “I was the one who cited the King’s fickleness if I’m not mistaken.”

“That was before you danced with him.”

“What does that have to do with — ?”

           “I saw you two together, everyone saw you two together,” said Damon.

           “It was but a moment,” said Bonnie.

           “Many things can happen in a moment. The illusion of your chastity must stay intact for as long as possible.”

“I have no idea —”

“The musician,” said Damon waspishly. Bonnie’s eyes widened fractionally.

“Don’t tell me you fooled yourself into believing I didn’t know about that.” Bonnie said nothing as Damon’s gaze darkened. “You are not to see him anymore.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and made to continue walking but Damon grabbed her by the wrist, keeping her in place. “You are not to see him, Bonnie. He could ruin everything.”

She wrenched her arm away. “Of course I am not going to see him, I would be an idiot to continue seeing him and I am not an idiot.”

           “No,” said Damon. “That you are not.”

Bonnie stared at him. “You really must decide, Damon.”

“And what is that, cousin?”

“Whether you hate me or love me. I don’t care which it is but pick one and act accordingly,” said Bonnie, walking out of the room.

The mass finished and everyone in the cathedral crossed themselves. Malachai began to stand up and Bonnie held her breath as he turned around to look at her. She clasped her hands together so she could dig her nails into her knuckles, so the discomfort could keep her from slipping away from reality and into … him.

“Lady Bonnie.”

His voice intoxicated her and she nearly swayed on the spot. “Your Majesty,” said Bonnie, her voice was no more than a gasp.

He tarried for a moment, quickly passing his eyes over Bonnie’s physique and she kept telling herself not to swoon. To her simultaneous dismay and relief, Malachai exited the cathedral, releasing Bonnie from his presence, Caroline following him, exuding cold indifference. Bonnie could hear the other ladies whisper beside her. “Unconscionably brazen.” “She looked directly at His Majesty.”

Bonnie turned to the side and saw Damon and Alaric in the pews not too far behind her, they both gave their heads subtle nods of approval.

“Lady Bonnie,” said an annoyed voice. “We must follow Her Majesty.”

She shook her head slightly and led the way to the door. Once outside the church, the First Lady took her to the side.

“Continue on, ladies,” she said to the other women. She turned back to Bonnie. “Lady Bonnie do you understand that this office requires a certain level of decorum?”

Bonnie raised her eyebrows, trying not to show her indignation. “Of course I do.”

“Then perhaps you ought to show it.”

“I need no lesson in the necessity of decorum, Lady Isabelle. Perhaps your instruction will be better suited elsewhere such as Lady Celia’s stitch work.”

Lady Isabelle’s eyes flashed. “You speak without thought,” she said. “Perhaps you should take your down time a bit early and reflect on your behaviour.”

Bonnie smiled with subtle irony and curtseyed slightly, before walking off, leaving Lady Isabelle in stunned silence.


Malachai sat next to Caroline before the court, vacantly watching the people idle before them. Two emissaries from France were coming and everyone was waiting for them. He did not care. Caroline was speaking to him and he cared about that even less. His mind was on repeat, bringing him back to the morning, to the lady Bonnie, the intensity of her gaze, the parting of her lips, to the husky quality of her voice. It was all he could see, all he could hear, pushing out every other thought in his head, blurring every other noise or vision, those brief, precious moments in the cathedral consumed him to the point of aggravation. He had to focus on the matter at hand, he had to be kingly but his priorities couldn’t break through and stop the repetition of those moments playing in his head, overwhelming him with a desire to speak more than a few words to her, to know her, to have her. He burned for her. He sat on the throne, his hands clutching the armrests, completely still, completely silent in fear of one movement, one utterance leading him to abandon his post and find the Lady Bonnie.

“Malachai, are you feeling well, my love?”

He turned slightly to look at Caroline. He’d loved her once. A long time ago. She was impeccable, a Queen of Queens, her lineage was immaculate. He’d expected a son from her, many sons, many heirs. He expected a great deal and she’d failed him in every possible way.

“I’m fine.”

A sudden impact overtook Malachai’s body, pulling at him, drawing him to the front of the room. She was here. She had to be. Malachai turned away from Caroline and saw Bonnie with her sister Elena in a corner of the room. She was robed in dresses of gold and white, looking absolutely devastating. Malachai swallowed hard, tracing her outline with his eyes, lingering on her neck, graceful and elegant, an image flashed before Malachai’s eyes, his lips on her neck, skimming the smoothness of her skin. He clenched his teeth as he felt himself harden and then shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. Lady Bonnie’s presence had the opposite effect of what Malachai expected. Her being near him was meant to diminish his agitation not inflame it; relieve him of fantasies of her not double them. He wanted her to look at him again, pull him into the green sea of her eyes, pull him into her.

Look at me, he willed. Look At Me. LOOK AT ME.

She didn’t. Rather, a man nudged his way in between her and her sister. He was pale, black-haired and blue-eyed. Malachai despised him already. He leaned to the side, whispered into Bonnie’s ear and everything within Malachai started screaming, roaring. He clutched his armrest even tighter until his knuckles were white, his face was taut, eyes wide. That man … that man was touching … Malachai was overcome with a murderous rage. He could tell he was frightening the courtiers with his expressions; people were muttering and staring at him with great concern.

Caroline spoke once more. “Malachai, are you sure you’re feeling quite well?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped. He turned to his right at Tyler standing in the corner with his other two companions and motioned for him to come.

Tyler excused himself and walked up the step to Malachai’s side. Caroline stared ahead, remaining in a queenly stature but Malachai could feel her resentful curiosity as he bent toward Tyler and whispered in his ear. When he finished relaying his message he pulled away and looked at Tyler to see if he understood. Tyler gave his head a nod and Malachai gave a responding one as he walked away.

“The Emissaries, my love,” said Caroline.

The court quieted and Malachai turned to the business at hand as Tyler flattened himself against the wall, slipping through the crowd. When he reached Bonnie, he stood behind her, blending in with the tapestry and took a minute to regard her. Her beauty was peculiar he decided, there was something dangerous about it, she wasn’t simply visually appealing, she was alluring in the truest sense of the word. Tyler glanced up to the King and despite talking to the emissaries, Tyler could sense that Malachai was watching him and growing impatient with his silence. Tyler cleared his throat and shifted forward.

“Don’t turn around,” he said beneath his breath. “Find yourself unencumbered at the corridor by the kitchens at 10:30 tonight. Nod your head if you understand.”

Bonnie kept her eyes on the emissaries as she gave her head a slow nod. She felt Tyler slip away behind her and infinitesimally, Damon leaned toward her. “What was that about?” he murmured.

“I’m to meet the King,” said Bonnie between her teeth. “Alone.”

The words ensnared her, choking her windpipe with a nervousness that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. Tonight. She was to meet the King tonight.


Bonnie tried to slow her breathing as she waited in the corridor, hiding behind a wall that led down another hallway. She was a step away from hyperventilating and the noise was sure to give her away.

           “Don’t forget to act amazed to be in His Majesty’s presence,” Alaric had said.

           Bonnie felt him before she saw him, before she heard him. She was hot and cold at the same time, her body shook from shivers but her gut seethed with a sultriness that ached her gut. She felt his presence, heard his footsteps and yet it was a shock when Malachai appeared before her. Bonnie felt like she should acknowledge him, murmur “Your Majesty” but the words didn’t come, all she could do was stare at him and feel the storm raging within her.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, each of them in awe at being in the other’s presence and then slowly, Malachai reached forward and took Bonnie’s hand in his, gently pulling her toward him. His touch … her touch … the touch of a lover was meant to be soothing, that was what the poems said, but the feel of their skin meeting inspired chaos in them not calm, a wild abandon they both itched to unleash but forced themselves to contain.

“I have thought of nothing but this moment since meeting you,” said Malachai quietly.

           Bonnie said nothing and focused instead on breathing. His touch would haunt her forever, nothing else would ever feel the same because Bonnie had experienced a touch that could ignite her, her soul. Nothing, no one had ever made feel so deeply and she knew instantly that he was her curse.

“I love your neck,” he murmured. With his eyes on her, his gaze steadily holding hers, Malachai reached with his other hand and skimmed his index finger along her neck, making Bonnie’s lips part to let out a sigh. Abruptly, his hand closed around the nape of her neck and he jerked her head forward, making Bonnie’s eyes flash with anger and arousal. “That man you were with today,” said Malachai, his voice low and dangerous. “Who. Is. He?”

           Bonnie pursed her lips, showing subtle amusement. “My cousin,” she said. Malachai continued to stare at her. “Only my cousin.”

           It took a few moments for Malachai’s expression to clear and Bonnie felt a certain level of joy at being able to inspire such jealousy in him, such powerful emotion. There was a shine to her eye now that made Malachai’s heart thud. “Thoughts of you have inflamed me for days,” said Bonnie.

           Malachai lunged forward and thrust his lips onto Bonnie’s, his hand on her throat; she knew she should act chaste, act taken aback and coy, scurry away with a giggle, but Malachai’s mouth on her frenzied Bonnie’s blood, it caused her entire body to vibrate with a desire that threatened to break her. Bonnie responded, a sigh in her throat that called to a moan in Malachai’s, his groin aching, his skin flushed and heated, his hands itching to feel the dips and curves of her body. He wanted her. He wanted her with a primal intensity he’d never before suffered and he shifted his body, pressing himself against her and her against the wall. Bonnie felt herself open up, ready to accept him, to lay waste to him and she knew that stopping this would be painful, would be torture, that doing anything but kiss him would surely kill her but she pulled away.

           “I must go,” she whispered, walking down the hall. He grabbed her hand.

           “But Bonnie…”

           “Her Majesty expects me, I must go.”

           Bonnie ran down the hall without looking back, leaving Malachai in a rapture of frustrated lust that consumed his very being. There was no forgetting her now, she was in his system, chewing away anything that he found significant before her.

So who sleeps in the second bedroom?

Okay, kids, I wanted to throw my two cents in on the Alaric/Stefan confrontation scene in 7x19. 

Be forewarned: I only watched the SC clips from the episode on YouTube, and I’ve only seen 7x01 through 7x06 all season. So maybe take what I’m about to say with a vat of salt. Another disclaimer: I am in no way trying to justify the writing choices made this season; I have hated them and complained about them at length. This is only my attempt to make sense of some of them from a character standpoint.

I get that the scene left a bad taste in a lot of mouths because it commented upon the sex that Caroline wasn’t having and came across as two guys fighting in a dick measuring contest.

However, while I think that’s a valid interpretation from Alaric’s perspective, I couldn’t help but see the scene differently, and I don’t think that’s the way Stefan meant it or even where he’s coming from.

Let me explain:

Keep reading


“What issue?” Lucius and Gyselle demanded in unison.

“Vlad.  We were…. not friends, per se, but friendly.  I knew him well enough, and I find it difficult to believe that he would have come to your home to harm you and yours.  What was he doing there? In broad daylight, no less? The amount of power he must have used to be able withstand the sun… whatever his goal, it must have been very important to him.”

“And now we’ll never know, because Lucius set him on fire,” Gyselle replied, a little too cheerily.  

Alaric rolled his eyes.  “I’ll see what I can find out.  In the meantime, you should probably stay close to home.  This can’t end well.”

Preference #003

He hates it when you…

Damon Salvatore

 completely ignore what he tells you when danger’s around

Like his brother, your moral compass is very strong. You always understand why Damon tells you to go to his house and stay put until everyone else takes care of the threat, but that’s just not how you like to work. You aren’t able to sit back with a guilt free conscience while your friends are risking their lives. So half the time, you sneak out behind his back and go help out, even if you get hurt. You know how furious and worried it makes him, but it’s just how you are. You won’t ever change that part of yourself for him. 

Stefan Salvatore

 act like you don’t have emotions when you’re upset

You don’t cry. You don’t scream or yell. If you’re hurt emotionally, you just… go on as if nothing is wrong. Even if you should have a proper reaction, you don’t like feeling all of the hurt, so you just act like you don’t. Most of the time that works. That is until Stefan brings it up to you, and you have to face reality. Even then, though. You’re constantly trying to get out of those conversations. It bugs him to no end how you won’t let yourself feel and ultimately heal in time. Pent up emotion is never good for you, is what he says to you the most when you’re like that. 

Klaus Mikaelson

  make sarcastic and belittling comments about him

You never really mean it in a demeaning way. You’re just… sarcastic. Yeah, that’s it. Sure, sometimes your snide comments can get strike a nerve, and most of the time, it results in Klaus yelling at you to get out of the room if you can’t be quiet, but you never really mean to hurt him with anything you say. Sometimes, you just can’t keep your mouth shut when you have the opportunity to make someone look like a dumbass. And when it’s not him, Klaus finds it amusing. Yet when it is him, he gets dark and broody. 

Elijah Mikaelson

 hang around his family too much

Especially Kol and Klaus. He doesn’t quite mind your and Rebekah’s friendship. But when you and Kol get together for drinks, or you sit on the sofa and watch Klaus paint, it agitates him. You’ve asked him why thousands of times, and even wondered in privacy if it’s because he doesn’t trust you. But it all comes down to the fact that Elijah doesn’t like sharing you, least of all with his brothers. 

Kol Mikaelson

↳ steal his clothes and don’t give them back

Don’t get him wrong. He finds it unbelievably sexy when he wakes up to see you wearing his t-shirt and boxers, and it is rather adorable to see his coat almost swallow you whole. But you have a bad habit of “borrowing” his jackets and shirts and telling him that you’ll wash them for him… before forgetting to give them back to him. Most of this is due to your hatred of folding laundry. So half of his clothes are sitting in a pile in your laundry room. He knows that you aren’t holding his clothes hostage on purpose, which is why he’s never brought the subject up. Though, it is annoying to him when he wants to wear a certain shirt and has to go all the way to your house to find it. 

Jeremy Gilbert

 act as if he were a child

While technically you may be older than him, he still doesn’t like it when you make the offhand comment about his age. Whether it be a joke about dating a younger guy, or actually telling him that he’s too young to do or say something, he can’t stand it. You know how sensitive about his age in your relationship, so usually you try to be mindful of what you say, but sometimes the comments just slip out. 

Tyler Lockwood

 joke about his werewolf gene

It really started out by asking him if he was ready for the time of the month one day. Then the jokes progressed to calling him ‘puppy dog’ and so forth. You know it annoys him, but he’s never told you how much it actually grates on his nerves to have the most sensitive topic in his life flippantly thrown around as if it were a stand up comedian’s punchline. Though lately, you’ve noticed how much he frowns when you mention him being a werewolf. But you don’t mean any harm, so it’s alright. …right? 

Alaric Saltzman

get too involved with vampires

Some vampires are okay. Damon Salvatore? Hell of a guy. Stefan Salvatore? Good man. Caroline Forbes? Sweet girl. But when you tend to pry into how to become a vampire, ad what it’s like, he gets anxious. All he wants is a half way normal relationship, and not a repeat of what happened with Isobel. And he told you that. But you can’t always help it if your interest is piqued by some random fact about the vampire species you didn’t know before. 

If you would like to suggest a preference, go here!


Bonnie being a bad ass

Never let a human with Enzo, you know how it ends

RIP Tripp

Matt being sad/mad

Liz being threatened by Tripp’s guys

Caroline: “What took you so long to answer your phone?”

Enzo: “My fingers were covered in blood& the touch screen wouldn’t work”

Enzo telling Stefan Caroline has a thing for him

Stefan asking Caroline why she fall for him

Caroline: “I think that I deserve better than that”

Ms Cuddles being in the “real” world but Bonnie still being the purgatory & with no magic

Damon: “Bonnie… you’re alive”

Jo & Alaric

Jo is Kai’s sister

Delena… Elena… Liam… drama

They had their *cough*fan service*cough* rain kiss


Alaric: “Hey, you made it. I’m really glad you made it.”
You: “Why?”
Alaric: “Why? Because, I think you found a way to get out of bed this morning. And that makes you the strongest person I know.”

Alaric cups your head with his hands and smiles at you. 

You: “I don’t deserve you, Rick.”
Alaric: “I don’t deserve you either. But here we are. You are getting stronger every day and it makes me happy. It makes me a better man. I love you, (Y/N).”
You: (smiles) “Thank you, Alaric. I love you too.”

requested by e3ftchadwick .

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

[AO3] [Fanfiction.Net]

Word Count: 3600+, oneshot.

Genre: Family/Horror

Fandom: Soul Eater

Rating: All Audiences

Summary: To put it lightly, Stein and Marie’s baby son is having a rough night. Maybe a mother’s lullaby can comfort him.


“For the hand that rocks the cradle, is the hand that rules the world.”

- William Rose Wallace


It was, of course, something she had fully anticipated. The baby’s crying was perfectly normal (she’d be more concerned if he was silent) and the first night with her child home was going to be one of the more difficult ones. Still, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. She would deal with it as best she could. The golden-eyed woman opened the door of the nursery as quietly as possible, so as not to startle her child and make things worse, and padded silently over to the dark wood crib on the opposite side of the room.

“Alaric,” she whispered, looking down at the tiny boy moving in his blue fleece blanket. The name still felt strange on her tongue. Not that she disliked it, but it hadn’t been her choice at all. “Shh, darling. It’s okay.”

Far from being comforted, Alaric only screwed up his face and wailed louder, and she sighed deeply. Was he really so upset at the mere sight of her? Never mind it, she knew how to quiet him. Carefully, she reached down and lifted both baby and blanket into her arms, rocking him slowly and gently, the way she remembered her own mother had done. “You’re all right, little one,” she cooed in what she hoped was a soothing enough tone. “Mama’s here now. Shhh…”

Alaric squirmed frantically in her arms, his wide gold eyes bright with tears. Clearly, he was unmoved by sweet words. “Come on now, what is it you need?” she said, keeping her voice light. Another memory of her mother gave her an idea. It wasn’t something she had much experience with, but it was worth a try. “Do you want Mama to sing you a lullaby, how does that sound?” Not waiting to see if he responded, she started right in, steady and soft:

“Hush, little baby, quiet now, Mama’s going to hold you safe and sound.

Hush, little baby, don’t make a move, your Mama’d move heaven and earth for you.”

Keep reading

Original Imagine: Imagine going on a trip with team badass, and you had to go camping, you share a tent with Alaric and Damon, but lying so close to both of them makes them hard and it turns into a hot threesome.

Author: Sam

Reader Gender: Female

Word Count: 3479

Warnings: Smut, threesomes.

    “Why here?!” You almost shouted as your foot got stuck in another muddy dip as you walked through the forest.

“Where else are we going to get the bonding experience of a life time.” Damon said sarcastically, smirking while following gracefully behind.

“So your bright idea was camping in the middle forest?”

“No, that would be Alaric’s idea.”

Keep reading