but then vampire ish

Did you miss us?

Television: It’s the circle of life-ish.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer debuts at No. 20 after celebrating it’s 20th anniversary…
⬆ …While The Vampire Diaries shoots up to No. 4 after the airing of it’s series finale.

Originally posted by st0rmclouds

Movies: Would pay good money to see Kong: The Musical.

Kong: Skull Island wins the No. 13 spot and the award for “Most Metal Title”.
⬇︎ La La Land is on a trajectory downward, it’s down six spots to No. 9.

Music: You guys have truly wild fandom names.

Twenty One Pilots swiped No. 1 from Ed Sheeren. No word on how the Skeleton Clique or Sheerios are handling this.
⬇︎ Hayley Kiyoko is moving quickly in the wrong direction. She’s down seventeen to No. 19.

Celebrities: Wonder if Tom got that large gorilla’s autograph?

Camila Mendes (No. 18) debuts as Riverdale starts to take off with fans
⬆ Thanks to Skull Island, Tom Hiddleston leaps thirteen spots to No. 4.

Originally posted by camimendes

Games:The over/under on games.

★ Play of the game: Overwatch remains at No. 1 for the 20th week in a row, a pretty wild feat.
⬇︎ Undertale drops to No. 9. The little game that could has been on this list for months and months.

Web stuff: what’s going on in the World Wide Web.

The Eleven Little Roosters returns with the cutest name at No. 16
The Adventure Zone takes an exciting trip to No. 3.

Phil’s Liveshow// 3.9.17

He’s wearing the blue hoodie we told him to keep from last week

Username ideas that are just words animals: softraccoon explosiveemu ridiculousotter 

He got his friend burger socks, pusheen handwarmers, and planet lollipops

“Uranus is a blackberry. Your anus is a blackberry.”

He hasn’t listened to Ed’s new album yet smh

The Ed Scar Story

Green Light has grown on him

The + and - on the Nintendo Switch was confusing him

He wishes there were more games for the Switch

“I’m generally quite giant as a person”

Slime train

He liked the bomb diffusion video but it was really stressful 

Blue is His Color

He doesn’t suit brown or beige

Dan suits brown more than he does

Wearing black makes him feel vampire ish

He likes living in London because it’s close to everything 

He put on Crufts (if he got the first dog we saw it’d be a cocker spaniel)

“You and your friend. Or friends if you’re lucky enough to have more than one.”

He likes to play the adverts game where you guess the product before it’s revealed

He’s watching Bates Motel , Firefly, Walking Dead, Broadchurch, Steven Universe, Homeland, and Riverdale

He got sweet potato fries with Hazel

Him and Dan signed some new posters

Miracle Berry makes everything weird 

“Looked like a happy doggo”

Timezone research

Top fans won dogs (and one cat)

Tour made him want to see more of the world

AmazingPhil video probably tomorrow or this weekend

He had yogurt with granola and berries for breakfast today because he’s trying to be a bit healthier 


He sang a lullaby 

He still uses the galaxy backpack

Phil doesn’t know geometry 

If he doesn’t upload tweet him some disappointed cat gifs



Mentions of Dan: ||||| ||

The Vampire and His Huntress - Their Deal

He’s been visiting her once every turn of the moon. Sometimes he’s gracious, and he knocks on her front door. Other times, when his thirst drives him from courtesy, he looms at her window like a salivating hound. 

Of course she lets him in, what choice does she have?

Their deal is as such: harm no one, and he shall have her willing blood whenever he thirsts. This way he does not have to fuss over hunting his prey, and she will not have to fuss over hunting him. At first, the deal is created to protect Dawn from his grasps. He even once confesses that Dawn’s blood is exceptionally spirited, which is very valuable in turning a mortal into a vampire.

“But your sacrifice,” the immortal himself starts with a sly grin, “there is no other such delicacy that can compare to it.”

Keep reading

What Actually Bothered Me

Okay so I must admit that during the actual finale I was absolutely livid. I was completely pissed off at the writers and at Julie and at the whole episode in general. All I wanted was for Steroline to be happy, and I didn’t get it so I bitched about it for a while. But then I watched a movie with my dad, distracted myself for a while, and I understand my anger more now.

Stefan dying didn’t bother me as much as it did others. Yes I’m pissed off and I would have loved to see Steroline live happily ever after. But it was always Stefan’s story, and a part of me quite likes that the series ended with the conclusion to his tale.

Besides, Caroline never would have fit as a human, as Candice said “it took her dying to make her truly alive,” and we all know that Caroline was made to be a vampire. So even if Steroline would have ended up happy, it wouldn’t truly feel done to me because without a flash forward I would always wonder how Stefan died.

But there were four things that drove me up the fucking wall:

1) Stefan sacrificing himself for Damon again for some twisted guilt that he still holds after making his brother turn. News flash Damon is a terrible person, and Stefan Salvatore deserved so much more than a death like that.

2) There was no mourning. I wish they would have ended the last episode right before Damon set on fire, so that this episode could have a better mourning period for Stefan. I mean Elena got a whole episode, and Stefan Salvatore deserves much more than five minutes.

3) The Klaroline letter. Okay here’s the thing about Klaroline, for me at least. I understand the shipping because I agree that their personalities work. In fact, I have read many fanfictions starring the pair and many of them were incredible. I don’t really ship them in canon, due to past incidents, but even really aggressive shippers can admit that it was too soon. Stefan died two minutes before, and Steroline got married one episode ago. But suddenly it’s a Klaus letter, a “story for another time,” and a possible spin off? The KCers deserve more than a slot of fanservice, and SCers sure as hell deserve more than that.

4) It was always about Damon, right up until the end. Sure we see Stefan meet up with Lexi, and then we see him finding relative peace. But if it truly was “Stefan’s story” then it should have been Damon making the sacrifice. I would have preferred having the compulsion work, and a heartbreaking scene of Stefan crying in front of the fire once Damon was gone. One because it creates more of an impact, two because it allows Damon to finally take the fall, and three because this series was always about Stefan. Not about Damon finding piece, or Elena waking up, or any of the romances that followed. It was about Stefan, and he deserved so much more.

We all deserved more, the characters, the actors, and the fans especially. It’s been a great 8 years, and even if there were some bad times (including a lot of this episode) there were amazing times too. Here is a small piece of my ranting, feel free to rant right back to me. We will make it through this, just as we have in the past.

Love you all, to the moon and back.

Mad {BK Regency Fic Pt. 6}

OK here is the sixth part to The Tudor-esque Bonkai fanfiction. It’s my favourite part yet, things get a little more heated, moving along a little quicker so I hope you guys enjoy it. 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: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/151942784000/the-gambit-bk-regency-pt-1

The second part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/152178534030/the-moon-bk-regency-fic-pt-2

The third part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/152739097855/winded-bk-regency-fic-pt-3

The fourth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/153795180910/tonight-bk-regency-fic-pt-4

The fifth part: http://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/154224617970/ensnared-bk-regency-fic-pt-5

People to tag: @seeyda @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 @beccacupcakesxo @giggleangel

*not my gif*

“Lady Bonnie! Lady Bonnie!”

                A servant came rushing into Bonnie’s bedroom, making her put down her copy of Utopia. “Jane, you’re shaking. What is it?”

                “His Majesty! His Majesty is heading this way! I saw his brigade from the courtyard.”

                Bonnie’s gut coiled into knots. She’d suspected he’d appear at her front door. No king handled rejection well but especially not a king like Malachai de Parke. Returning his gifts had ignited a resentful obsession, an insult to pride that would compel him to pursue the perpetrator. Bonnie had known this when she’d made the decision, she’d calculated his reaction. And yet … and yet a part of her wondered if it was the King who rode to see her or the man, the man whose desire for her was so intense it drove him to irrationality.

                She shook her head. “Foolish thought.”

                “My lady?”

                Bonnie turned to Jane and pressed her lips together, taking a moment to think. “Meet the King in the foyer, I will be downstairs shortly.”

                Jane curtseyed slightly and left the room. Bonnie stood up and smoothed her hands down the front of her bodice, glad she had chosen to wear her dress of black satin, a dress that flattered her dearly. Elena had left the estate for the day, giving Bonnie a vague excuse that Bonnie knew meant she was meeting Stefan at a private rendezvous point.  Both Alaric and Damon were back at court attending business, for which Bonnie was truly grateful — no prying eyes, no intrusive ears, she would be able to speak … … … Bonnie closed her eyes and sighed, frustrated with herself. Speaking freely was irrelevant, every word, every touch, every breath was all in service to the ploy, to the family.

                “Nothing real,” she whispered.

                The sound of the doors banging open snapped Bonnie into action and she walked out of her bedroom, down the stairs to the foyer where Malachai stood in the entryway with Jane bowing in front of him. For a split second, Bonnie’s mind turned suspicious, debating whether or not Jane was the type of woman Malachai was accustomed to bedding, if he was fantasizing about bedding her at that moment. She chased the thought away.

                “Leave us,” said Malachai.

                Jane scurried out of the foyer and Bonnie stood, frozen, at the foot of the steps, taking in the King’s strong jaw and black stubble, his blue eyes and broad shoulders. Neither she nor Malachai said anything but the silence between them was screaming, heavy with a tension that made Bonnie want to crawl out of her skin; he was suffocating her with his presence, torturing her with his distance. She had never experienced such desire, one that agonized and burned; she was about to bow just to do something with herself when Malachai rushed forward and thrust his lips against hers. Bonnie instantly put her hands on the back of his head, pushing him into her, her fingers gripping his hair as his hand slid up to her neck. She had yearned for his touch for days, craved the feel of his lips against hers ever since their first kiss in the corridor, ever since the experiential fantasy that took a hold of her when she gazed upon the jewellery he bequeathed upon her. She had never wanted anything so much and now that she was reveling in it, drowning it, it was terrible because the instant they pulled away from each other, her hunger for him would only intensify.  

Malachai wrenched away from her. “You’ve consumed me entirely,” he said, breathless. “You’ve made it impossible for me to function.”

“You’ve made it impossible for me to breathe,” Bonnie countered.

                Malachai kissed her again and Bonnie moaned softly, prompting Malachai to press his lips harder against hers, his mouth opened hers with a passionate urgency that agitated Bonnie. “Give yourself to me,” he whispered between kisses. “It’s the only way to keep either of us from going mad.” Bonnie leaned forward and kissed him again, causing Malachai to splay his fingers on her throat. “If you promise me and only me your body and soul,” he said. “I will take no other woman, I will love no other woman, I will serve no other woman.  Say you will, Bonnie. Be my maitresse en titre.”

Bonnie moved, it was a slight shift away from him, barely noticeable but Malachai felt the distance and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” he said. “What is it?”

Bonnie’s expression cooled, her demeanour hardened, she was turning to stone as Elena would say whenever Bonnie was too angry at her to yell and so detached herself instead.  His proposition wasn’t surprising, it was yet another reaction she had calculated, one any King would make. It was her own reaction that Bonnie had not expected; nothing within her was collected or detached, inside she was in turmoil, inside she was a wreck. She’d planned what she would say to him if he made this offer and yet Bonnie couldn’t find the words she’d devised; she could only say what she felt.

“Your mistress?” she repeated.

“My official mistress,” said Malachai. “My only mistress.”

“Is that all you see me as then? Someone to be used and discarded at your leisure?”

                Malachai’s eyes flashed with an angry incredulity. “Do you think so little of me that I would mar you with such dishonour? I am committing myself to you.  I am bonding myself to you. I only ask you do the same.”

                “You’re asking no such thing. You’re asking me to spread my legs for you at your convenience!”

                Malachai started shouting. “You dare speak to your King this way? You dare look him in his eye?”

                Bonnie knew she was on dangerous ground but she couldn’t stop; he made her impulsive, reckless. “I dare to call an impossible situation impossible. I have already bonded myself to my husband and only he, whoever he may be, will be graced with my maidenhead!”

                Malachai turned away, throwing his hands up in the air, pacing the foyer. “I am the King of England, Bonnie!” he yelled.  “Do not pretend not to understand my responsibilities! Do not feign ignorance of my position!”

                “And do not feign ignorance of mine! I know what happens when women are made to be mistresses, official or otherwise! A woman’s reputation is the only card she has to play in this life and I intend to keep mine unsullied.”

                “Are you saying that binding your name to mine will sully yours?”

                “I am saying that people will talk!”

                “Then l will cut out their tongues!” he roared.

                Bonnie’s lips parted as Malachai strode over to her. He placed his hands on either side of her face, piercing his eyes into hers. “I will strike down anyone who dares to speak out against you!”

                She trembled slightly at the earnest fury in Malachai’s voice. He meant it. Every word. “It’s not enough,” she whispered. It was true. “I will not share you.”

                Malachai gritted his teeth and turned away again. He put his hands on the nape of his neck and raised his head to the ceiling. “I apologize if I offended you,” he said quietly. He looked at her, his expression anguished. “I spoke too freely of my affections.”

                He walked swiftly out of the foyer back to the courtyard and Bonnie felt herself break slightly. “Your Majesty—” She took a step toward the door but stopped herself. A tremor ran through her body and she felt herself come apart; she didn’t know if she had ended something or escalated it and the ambiguity rendered her speechless, for if she tried to say even one word, she would say nothing and only weep.


Malachai bent low so Mary ran into his arms and then he picked her up, twirling her around.  “Papa!” she giggled.

                “Mary,” he said, closing his eyes. “Your father has missed you.”

                “I missed you too, Papa.”

                “How are your studies going?”

                “I can count to 100 in French!”

“C'est vrai? Laisse-moi écouter.”

                “Un, deux, trois…”

                Malachai smiled as he listened to his daughter, reveling in the peace she brought him, the only peace he’d had in weeks. He had sent for her upon knowledge that the King of France was making a visit to betroth his youngest son to Mary.  When Malachai saw Tyler approach he set Mary down and handed her to the First Lady.

                “Take her around the garden,” he said.

                “Majesty.” Lady Isabelle led Mary away and she ran through the labyrinth of hedges. Malachai turned to Tyler.

                “What is it?”

                “The King of France will be here in a day’s time.”

                “Mm.” Malachai nodded his head.

                “If Your Majesty will forgive me …” Tyler hesitated, moving his hands, trying to find the right words. “It might fair better if you could reconcile with the Queen for this visit. Act as husband and wife to ease the King’s concerns.”

                “He has concerns?”

                Tyler pressed his lips together at the note of danger in Malachai’s tone. “I only meant that closing the distance between yourself and Queen Caroline could allow proceedings to move more smoothly and efficiently.”

                Malachai sighed. “Fine.”

                “Of course it is your right to alleviate your passions, Your Majesty,” said Tyler slyly. “A few new ladies in the Queen’s service have caught my eye. I could —”

                “Nevermind that,” said Malachai brusquely. “They don’t have what I need.”

                “Ah,” said Tyler. “Is the Lady Bonnie such a woman that she has forever shamed all women who follow? I must confess harbouring curiosity of how she likes to be ridden —”

                Abruptly, Malachai clasped his hands around Tyler’s throat and squeezed so that Tyler began kneeling on the ground. “Do not ever speak of the Lady Bonnie in such a manner, do you understand me?” said Malachai, his eyes wide with fury. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

                “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Tyler, wheezing. “Forgive — Forgive me …”

                Malachai released Tyler from his grasp and he stayed kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath. Malachai stared at him, a mixture of resentment and regret battling within him. “Rise,” he said.

                Tyler stood up, red in the face.

                “Where is Her Majesty now?” said Malachai.

                “At prayer,” said Tyler. “Then I believe she will be handing out alms.”

                “A Queen of Queens,” Malachai muttered.

                “That she is, Your Majesty,” said Tyler. “The kingdom is always in high spirits when she walks amongst the people.”

                “Yes,” said Malachai dully. If only her influence had effect on what most mattered — himself.


Malachai sat at the centre of the long table watching the courtiers dance before him. The proceedings introducing Mary to the dauphin had already taken place and now they were in the middle of a feast. Caroline sat to his right, speaking to King Luc in rapid French and every few seconds he laughed, charmed. She was an excellent diplomat, a gracious Queen. Malachai took her hand in his and she glanced briefly at him, smiling brightly before returning to the conversation with King Luc.

                He barely felt it, her skin against his, when the Lady Bonnie’s touch still electrified his blood days later. He had chosen to commit himself to the act of a husband deeply devoted to his wife, attempting to force the affection he had felt for Caroline years ago but his heart, his loins, his gut would not take direction from his mind, they were aching. Aching for her.

                Malachai detected Sir Stefan slipping out from behind a curtain, a foolish grin on his face. Moments later the Lady Elena crept out from behind the same curtain, suppressing a fit of giggles. Malachai smirked; he was bearing witness to the beginnings of a pure, excited love, wholly different from the desire he shared with Bonnie, the one that cursed him with sweats and sleepless nights and a longing that hardened him to the point of distraction.

He itched for news of her and started to tell a servant to bring Stefan to him so he could inquire about the Lady Elena and by extension Bonnie. Halfway through his command he saw Alaric move through the crowd and decided to be more direct. Malachai raised his hand as Alaric looked up to the table and he beckoned the lord to him.

                “My Lord Saltzman,” said Malachai.

                “Your Majesty,” said Alaric, bowing his head. He turned to Caroline. “My Queen.” He looked at King Luc. “Your Highness.”

                Caroline smiled and King Luc nodded his head in acceptance before returning to his meal.

                “I only wanted to tell you in person that I have noticed the strides you’re making your office,” said Malachai.

                “Oh thank you, Your Majesty, I live to serve, your pleasure does me great honour.”

                “Your loyalty warms the heart,” said Malachai. “As such I would like to make you Comptroller of the Royal House.”

            Alaric raised his eyebrows at the sudden elevation and Malachai could sense the cold incredulity in Caroline’s gaze, though she said nothing and remained politely tight-lipped.  

            “Your Majesty is most gracious,” said Alaric, beaming. “I will do everything in my power to ensure that I am deserved of the title.”

            “Oh I know you will,” said Malachai, an implicit threat in his tone. “Your nephew…”

            “Damon,” Alaric offered.

            “Yes, Damon.” The corners of Malachai’s eyes narrowed before he spoke. “I hear great things about him as well. Exceeds all expectations.”

            “He is quite efficient, extremely loyal to the crown,” said Alaric.

            Malachai regarded him for a few moments. “He will be afforded a position in the Knighthood of the Garter.”

            “Your, Your Majesty…” Alaric bowed. “You are most kind. Most gracious. Thank you. The news will be most receptive by Damon, he is very much like a son to me.”

            “Alas, you have no sons. Only daughters.”

            “Yes, Your Majesty,” said Alaric.

            “I see one of them at court. The other…”

            “Bonnie,” said Alaric.

            “Yes, Bonnie.” Malachai felt Caroline’s coldness enhance but continued to speak. “My Queen misses her in her service. How is she? Well?”

            “Yes,” said Alaric. “Quite well.”

            Malachai’s jaw tensed and his chest constricted. “Quite well” was she? Their separation had not affected her even in the slightest fashion? She was able to live her days as though her heart hadn’t been ripped in half? The notion enraged Malachai with grief.

            “Well actually…” said Alaric.

            Malachai looked at him. “Yes?”

“Your Majesty if I can speak plainly, I must confess that my dear Bonnie has been stricken with melancholy of late. I am not sure of the cause.”   

                Malachai tried to conceal the smile that played at the corner of his lips. “I am sure it will pass. Whatever it is,” he said. “Enjoy the festivities.”

            Alaric bowed and returned to the crowd. Caroline turned to him, smiling. “Colour has returned to your cheeks, my love,” she said. “You seem in higher spirits.”

           Malachai took a sip of wine. “It is a beautiful night,” he said.

           The joy that uplifted him at the news of Bonnie’s sorrow was only matched by the pressing need to rid them both of their agony. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up from his seat. “I will return in a moment.”

           A servant pulled out his chair, allowing Malachai to leave the table, exiting a back door that led him to private quarters. He stood by the entryway, his eyes searching for a desk. On it he spotted some parchment and a quill.

           “Leave,” he told the servant.

           When he slipped out of the room, Malachai rushed over to the desk and without bothering to sit down, took the quill out of its ink bottle and started to write.


Bonnie sat by the window, Alaric and Damon a few feet away from her. “Well,” said Alaric. “Read it.”

            She cleared her throat. A least she had the opportunity to read the letter before her father and cousin heard of it. “My dearest Bonnie,” she began.  “I have made many an effort to carry on with my life as if you had never been a part of it but I could no sooner stop the sun from rising. You have overwhelmed me, burrowed into me. Please accept this gift as a token of my affection, the thought of it against your skin warms mine. It is a pain beyond endurance that you have refused to be my mistress. I’m going mad not seeing you, mad with thoughts of you …” Bonnie stopped reading, biting her bottom lip in embarrassment. This was private. Intimate. Between them. And yet, it was her duty to divulge every detail so as to better plan the strategy.

            “Continue, dear daughter,” said Alaric.

… mad with thoughts of you, your lips, your breasts, the pleasures I have yet to indulge in. I beseech you, reconsider.”

            Alaric laughed and clapped his hands once, triumphant. “You have done well,” he said.

           “Yes,” said Damon quietly. “The King is in love with you.”

           Bonnie looked up at him and seeing the subtle rage in his eyes, glanced away.

           “He spoke of a gift, what gift?” said Alaric.

           Bonnie sighed and moved her hair away from her face, brushing the strands off her shoulders, revealing a pearled cross draped around her neck.

           “My God,” said Alaric. “This one you decided to keep then?”

           “Yes, I …” Bonnie lowered her eyes. “It seemed the wise choice.”

           “We have the King exactly where we want him, now is when we move to strike against Lockwood,” said Damon.

           “No, not yet.”

           “He promoted you to a much coveted office,” said Damon. “I have been anointed a member of the Knighthood of the Garter. He is elevating our family more quickly than imaginable.”

“Tyler is beloved by the King,” said Alaric. “He will not part from him easily, this requires yet more finessing. This is when we start to plant seeds of doubt in his mind and you, Damon, you must show your face to the King more.” He turned to Bonnie. “How do you like your charge?”

Bonnie’s lips trembled as she tried to speak diplomatically. “I confess I did not like the idea of being offered to the King but Malachai …”

“Malachai?” said Damon, raising his eyebrows.

“Dearest daughter, be careful not to be fooled by your own deception,” said Alaric. “We need you focused on the task at hand.”

“Yes,” said Bonnie, thoughtlessly stroking the cross around her neck, stricken with images of Malachai’s fingers trailing her throat, her chest … “Focused.”


Malachai lay in bed, his arms and back sliced. The physicians had decided to bleed him, rid him of the toxins that caused his fever, that turned his skin pallid. He’d been ill for two days after a riding accident, in which he nearly drowned in a swamp. The horse that threw him off had since been put down but the news brought him no relief. Upon entering the thirty-sixth hour of nausea and cold sweats, Malachai realized that he would find no relief until he righted his wrongs. In the dimness of the candlelight, Malachai could barely make out two figures approaching his bed, one was Tyler, the other his councillor, Jeremiah.

           “Your Majesty,” they both murmured.

           Malachai glared at them, indignant of their soft tone as if they were speaking to someone on his death bed. He sighed.

           “Speak properly, I am not yet dead,” said Malachai.

           They glanced at each other and then nodded.

           “Ingrates,” he muttered. “It will take more of a swamp to destroy me.”

           “Of course. Your Majesty is indestructible,” said Jeremiah. “A God among men.”

           “Enough,” said Malachai, irritated. Jeremiah sobered. “I am not dead,” Malachai repeated. “However, this is the second time in a few short weeks that I have nearly died.” He paused. “God is punishing me.”

           “Punishing you?” said Tyler. “Your Majesty, I don’t understand, I…”

           “Caroline,” said Malachai. “God is punishing me for marrying my brother’s wife. Our marriage is a sin.”

           “But the papal dispensation—” said Tyler.

           “I have no male heirs,” said Malachai. “Caroline has lost each one. Is that not proof, Lockwood? I have nearly died. Again.”

           “Your Majesty,” said Jeremiah. “What are you saying?”

           Malachai turned his head upward to the ceiling. “A divorce,” he said. “I want a divorce.”



           Malachai urged his horse onward so that it galloped at a pace that his guards had difficulty keeping pace with. They were riding through the forest to the Saltzman estate, Bonnie’s letter compelling Malachai to press his horse faster. It had come just that afternoon, three simple, glorious words: Come to me. Enclosed was a locket containing a miniature portrait of her in a red dress, the words Ever yours engraved in the gold. He had set off from the palace immediately after receiving it.

           Yes. She was saying yes.

Bonnie head the gallops of horse hoofs and ran down the stairs to the foyer. It was imprudent, impractical, illogical. Damon would be furious if he found out, her father would be profoundly displeased, it could ruin everything, it could destroy her, but all of that paled to how much Bonnie wanted him. She had to have him. Gossip spread of Malachai’s desire for divorce and the news did something to Bonnie, unleashed her, provoked her. He was proving himself hers and the need to claim him overwhelmed her, chewed away at her until there was nothing left but yearning.

           Bonnie reached the bottom of the stairs as the door banged open and before she had the chance to take him in, Malachai ran toward her, kissing her instantly, his lips hard and insistent, his tongue massaging hers, a groan deep in his throat. Bonnie’s skin tingled, her heart thudded; she was faint and breathless, it felt like death, the sweetest death, and she inwardly begged for it to envelop her.

           Malachai pulled away. “Yes,” he said. “You’re saying ‘yes’?”

           “Yes,” said Bonnie.

           A soft growl escaped his lips and Malachai kissed her again, allowing his hands to explore. Bonnie could feel his eagerness in the way he clenched her waist, his fingers rubbing the dips of her curves, his hands slipped up her bodice to her breasts, cupping them, making her sigh into his mouth so that he groaned

Suddenly his hands were beneath her and he lifted her onto him so that Bonnie wrapped his legs around his middle. He kissed her neck, running the tip of his tongue along her throat, she clenched his head, burying his face deeper into her cleavage.

           “Upstairs,” she gasped.

           “No, I won’t wait any longer,” he whispered back. He set her on the stairs and Bonnie could feel him against her leg, his readiness inflamed her, spawning an ache in her groin that pulsated throughout her entire body. He’d been right all those weeks ago; denying themselves each other would drive the both of them mad. She needed this.

           He hovered above her. “You’re mine,” he whispered. “Your maidenhead, I claim it.”

           Bonnie brought him down to her, kissing him with a fervour that compelled him to rock into her. She yelped. “And when we’re married,” she whispered. “We’ll have many sons. So many sons.”

           Malachai stopped and pulled away from Bonnie. Everything within him was screaming, he was crazed beyond reason, being so close to her but not in her, above her, overwhelming her. His aching for her made his entire body tremor, it inflamed him, he could barely think, barely see, she was all he wanted and all he ever would want with such potency but he couldn’t, he couldn’t let it happen, not like this.

           “I won’t,” he said. “I will…” He closed his eyes, the anguish of his words tearing through him. “I will respect your maidenhead. We won’t consummate until marriage.”

           Bonnie sat up, bewildered and pleased as Malachai backed down a few steps to the floor. He had to leave, he couldn’t be around her, not now, not like this, when he was so close to burying himself in her, he was too sensitized, her mere presence was temptation.


           It was the first time she said his name and he was ready to erupt at the sound of it on her tongue. Quickly, he dashed forward, kissing her hard on the lips and then he walked swiftly out of the foyer back to the woods. He couldn’t ride like this, he would surely kill himself, distracted by the thought of her. He slipped behind a tree and lowered his hose, the image of Bonnie left on the stairs, wanting and breathless and moist for him in his mind as he stroked himself for relief. He would have her. He would marry her.  By God he would.

anonymous asked:

Hey can you draw me something? can you draw frank as a vampire and hes on top on gerard. Also frank bit him. So like Frank is checking to see if Gerard is okay. Gerard looks peacefully asleep and has fang marks on his neck. Also can the setting be in a cemetery? I kno its soo cliche but if you have the time can you do it?

‘um dude u ok’


This was inspired by @bungou-boys-scenarios (awesome bsd scenario blog btw) and their post about a Vampire BSD AU. Originally I was going to send in head canons for it but I kind of got lost and ended up writing this drabble. So I dedicate this nonsense to the mods of that wonderful blog. and to feed my own dazai sins haha feed get it 

Pairing: Mafia!Vampire!Dazai| Reader
TW: Blood
Genre: Drabble/Fluff & Semi - NSFW-ish | Vampire AU

A/N: When I write Mafia!Dazai I alter the canon timeline a bit so that Dazai is still in the Mafia in his early twenties.

                                        Claire De Lune

               You watched the twinkling halcyon lights dangling above with half-assed admiration as you all but stomped towards the edge of the roof. They mimicked the reoccurring pattern of the sterling cosmos weaved between the nearly jet black sky draped over the port city.  Beneath the sweet rhythm of the violins and heated murmurs of the city’s crime elite you found yourself standing alone with one hand violently gripping the cold railing. Had the moon been any bigger you would have assumed it was ready to swallow the city whole. It hung low across the other buildings, bright and bold, a perfect opposite to the extraordinarily dark night. Glasses clinked together in random chimes behind you as you scooted your body closer to the glass railing. The only barrier between yourself and a fall that would stop your heart before you even got halfway to the ground.

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Hope Part IV

Previous Parts:  Part I  Part II  Part III  

Genre: Drama (The Vampire Diaries AU! Part IV) 

Word Count: 2.1k-ish 

A/N: Hey guys!! Sorry for the late update but school has been an absolute bitch. But I just wanted to let you know that I will be putting the series on hiatus for now because I want to finish our other series, Misotheism before continuing with this. Additionally, I’m linking this series with Midnight’s Icy Fire as a side fic!! 

I hope you like this part as much as the rest of them.  

Originally posted by jeonbase

“Rise and shine, princess,” You heard a voice mumble and, hesitantly, you opened your eyes, squinting as the bright light fell on you.

You turned around, hoping to see Jungkook, but as your mind recognized the voice, you saw a familiar mess of dark ebony hair.

You sighed, getting up slowly before walking out of the aircraft with Yoongi following you close behind, worried that you might do something spontaneous and stupid.

Once you were out of the airport, Yoongi compelled the both of you a car, an extremely expensive one at that, and even though it was morally incorrect, you found yourself staying silent as he buckled you into the passenger seat.

“So,” You stared out the window in boredom as he drove, “Where are we going?”

“Well,” He replied, increasing the speed of the car, “How about we crash at a motel for now? We’re gonna need to be fresh for our road trip tomorrow.”

“Road trip?” You questioned as he began pulling up to the nearest motel, it didn’t look the best but  you only hoped that the interiors were better than the exterior.

“Not that you’d need to know the details about it.” He remarked as he parked the car, the both of you stepped out of it and as much as you wanted separate rooms, he refused to let you out of his sight.

Keep reading

why do fanfic authors insist that Saiyans are purring fuckin vampires 

like what is this shit, they’re monkey-ish creatures just 

I can’t

Genre: Smut (Based on a scene from The Vampire Diaries Season 5 Episode 16) 

Pairing: Reader x Jeonghan [Vampire AU!] 

Word Count: 1k-ish 

Originally posted by wonshi-17

“No, it wasn’t her fault. I was the one who ripped his head off after I thought you left me. That is how much control you have over me!” He yelled at you, his glass of bourbon in hand and bangs neatly tucked behind his ear as he looked at you irately.

“And I’m still here, that’s how much control you have over me!” You snapped back at him as you leaned against the doorway.

God, it hadn’t even been two days since you got back and you were already arguing with him.

“Just listen to us, God, we’re so fucking toxic for each other.” He shook his head in annoyance, “I kill your friend and you just find someone else to blame for it.”

“You want me to blame you? Fine Jeonghan, it’s all your fucking fault. You screwed up, again.” You sighed, rolling your eyes in frustration as you walked closer to him until there were mere inches separating you.

“Thank You!” He remarked sarcastically, taking a drink from his glass before turning his attention back to you.

“You put me in a position where I have to defend you again, and again, and again, where I have to bend my morals, again, where I have to go against anything and everything I’ve ever said or believed in again, just because I love you!” You yelled at him, your hands pushing at his chest as you stated each and every fact out to him.

“Then stop loving me!” He threw the glass to the floor as he looked at you, his eyes turning a deep, dark shade of red that you knew all too well.

“I can’t.” You answered him and instantly you felt two hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you into a long, hard and passionate kiss.

One second you were standing in the middle of the living room, arguing with him and the next, you were pushing the vase off of the table as Jeonghan lifted you up and seated you on the wooden surface, lips hungrily devouring your neck as you pulled at his hair.

“We can’t keep doing this every time we argue,” You pointed out in between kisses as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he took you to the bedroom in a hurry, pushing you down into the bed.

“You mean you can’t,” He ripped your shirt, hands ravishing your breasts and making you arch your back.

You glared at him, baring your fangs and flipping him over so that he was the one lying underneath you, your hips straddling his laps as you moved your hips to grind on him.

“I, on the other hand,” He chuckled at your expression as his hands gripped your hips, “most certainly can.” He smirked up at you, not only infuriating you further but also making your craving for him worse.

You tore his shirt off, letting it join yours on the floor as you ran your hand over his chest, bending down to bite on his neck.

He pushed his hips upwards as pleasure coursed through his body from the bite, giving you a taste of the friction you were craving oh so desperately and a moan slipped from your lips. Distracting you with his movements, he flipped you over again such that you were lying underneath him, your stomach on the mattress, as his lips traced a path from your neck to your back while his hands held you in place.

Fuck, Jeonghan.” You struggled helplessly against his hold, making him smirk as he pressed a kiss on your neck.

His hands fumbled with the button of your jeans before pulling them down with your underwear, the cold air hitting your bare skin making you whimper.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He remarked, turning you over so that he could press his lips against yours, slowly moving his mouth down to your neck before biting it, piercing the soft skin with his fangs and making you that much wetter.

“And you’re mine.” He moved back to look at you, licking his lips that were smeared with your crimson liquid, “I don’t care anymore.”

He unbuckled his jeans, letting it fall down before pressing his hardened erection against your dripping folds as he looked at you with lust.

“You,” He pushed himself inside you, “are mine to taint,” he began moving, bending his head down as he kissed your chest, hands firmly planted on either side of your hips to hold you in place as your hands placed themselves behind his neck.

“Fuck Jeonghan, yes!” You exclaimed when he hit that sweet spot that made you convulse even more tightly around him, making him groan before he silenced his voice by biting the other side of your neck, drinking your blood and heightening your lust.

“You are mine to break,” He chuckled, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder to push himself even deeper inside you, and you screamed at the pleasure, his name dropping from your lips endlessly.

“But most importantly,” Here, he looked at you lovingly, “You are mine to love.” And before you could even respond to his words, he pulled your lips into a kiss, effectively silencing you as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

“I-I love you too, Jeonghan,” You replied back to him before your eyes fluttered shut as you reached your peak, wave of pleasure crashing down on you and knocking you out with the ecstasy.

And as you convulsed around him, it only took him a few more thrusts before he too, came undone inside, filling you up with his release before collapsing on top of you.

You breathed heavily, trying to regain some of the oxygen that you had lost and he looked up at you, the previous emotions of anger replaced with satisfaction and you ran your hand through his hair.

“Yes,” He spoke out as he lifted himself off of you and laid down next to you, “you’re mine, and I’m never giving you up.”

“Good,” you retorted, kissing his cheek as you snuggled closer to him, “because I have no intentions of ever leaving you.”

Originally posted by wonshi-17

Written By: Admin Sangria~~

I really hope this rumoured vampire gamepack isn’t just gonna be about vampires, but also witches, werewolves, fairies and zombies. Knowing the sims 4 team it probably will only be about vampires because i cant ever see them doing a supernatural pack with all the occults that the sims 3 had. I feel like their budget’s ‘too low’ for that, because they always say their budget’s ‘too low’ to add in basic things.
And that also got me thinking about pets, how are they ever gonna make a good pets EP with a create a pet menu like the previous games had, and also have more than just cats and dogs.

Like, isn’t the newer game supossed to have more features and not less..

anonymous asked:

hows ur vampire essay going? some questions: do u think vampires get their periods? does period blood affect vampires in the same way ""normal"" blood does? what would happen if a vampire accidentally bit their tongue?

this is the best ask I’ve ever gotten

my essay turned out alright but I think I’m going to rewrite it with another topic for the final piece of assessment. it was kind of a practice essay. The other topics include zombies (my fave, the history is fascinating) and angels.

Also, this would definitely depend on the types of vampire, of course. If we’re going by the standard, Dracula-ish vampire that springs to mind for most of us, I would say they wouldn’t get periods, and probably nothing happens if they bite their tongue if the “transformation” into a vampire is magical. If there’s a biological (bacteria? poison?) reason, it could have an effect, but like, what happens if a snake bites its own tongue? nothing, right? (right? idk tbh).  it’s probably like our saliva. Plus, vampires heal, so I would assume that if it DID have an effect it would not last very long.

For the period blood question, it depends on whether it’s the healthy, bright red stuff or the darker/brown “old” blood. I think the old blood would be a bit weird to a vampire… but then, where does the blood go after vampires eat? is it absorbed into them? in that case, I’d say period blood could theoretically make a vampire weaker.

and of course there are others vampires in history/folklore. In some they’re humans possessed by demons or spirits, for some the body is alive, for some the body is decaying, for some it’s sort of frozen/they’re immortal.

Okay this is extremely incoherent and fuck grammar, but there are your answers.

Thank you so much for this wonderful question.