Once more unto the drink, dear friends. Once more! And give a roar for all our English drunk! On, on you noblest Riot, whose blood is fed from vodka 80 proof! And be envy now to clubs of weaker blood. And teach them how to drink.
The game’s afoot! Pour out your spirits, and with glasses charged Cry, “ God for Harry, Dimitri and Alastair, James, Toby, Edward, Milo, Hugo, Guy and George!”
Each day I stand on the shore
Looking out over the sea,
over the waves
Each day I stand, steadfast,
as once more they roll in
Each day I wonder
what today’s waves will be.
Will they wash over me
cleansing my body and soul
leaving me standing,
Or will they rise up,
forcing me to cower down,
as they smash into me,
their undertow finally
pulling my feet from under me,
dragging me into their darkness,
rolling me, battering me?
Even in their darkness though
I know that eventfully
this sea will spit me out,
Once more I will back on the shore
trying to get to my feet,
trying to stand tall.
Instead I will just crawl into bed
My eyes will close but
my mind will still be knowing
That tomorrow you will find me
once again standing on the shore,
looking out over the waves
Wishing this day is one where the
Waves wash over me
And so this will repeat
Until I can no longer stand
No more my feet
pressed into the shore
Every day gazing
out over the sea
That sea of emotion
It will go on until
I am no more
When you kiss my forehead it gives me fuzzy feeling in my tummy. Like a shot of vodka I go all warm. It’s such a better feeling then that poison. It’s good poison. Your my poison. Your my drug. Your my addiction. You injected me with your love. You made me want you. You make me positive. Your the one who cast this sad spell away from me. You protected me and that’s the reason your the one I want. No one else.
I look around and what do I see,
Caged in animals born to be free,
The orange haze of light pollution,
No one looks for a solution,
We just wallow in our wealth,
While others don’t have their health,
Less is the want of the needy,
Than the want of the greedy,
For money makes the world go round,
Nothing’s worth more than the pound,
Children are beaten, killed, raped,
And on these things our society’s shaped,
People are taught to fear their own kind,
To fear anything different, to have a closed mind,
We live in a society built on fear,
Yet to acts of injustice we don’t shed a tear,
We discriminate against groups and races,
We judge people solely by their faces,
No matter how hard they’ve tried,
We never wonder what’s inside,
People work hard for food, only to die,
While rich men barely have to try,
On this Earth hate’s stronger than love,
The pitch black crow kills the snow white dove,
Look around this place you’ll see,
Not a single shelter or charity,
Everything we do is to gain, not give,
For this is the way we have chosen to live.
Caroline let out a defeated groan as Bonnie
sunk the last ball without a hitch, winning another round. Elena just giggled
from the other side of the pool table, as she saw the prediction she’d made
earlier (that Caroline had protested hotly) coming to fruition.
“I’m gonna beat you one day, Bennett, and
when I do…”
A skeptical laugh told Caroline exactly what
she thought of the idea as she started gathering the balls to rack again.
“Well maybe if you spent half as much time contemplating the angles of
your shots than the ones that make your ass catch Tyler’s eye more, you’d have
a chance.” The teasing rebuke had Elena snickering along then, too, and
Caroline would’ve thrown her stick at one of them if it weren’t so impossible
to choose which one deserved it more. Yeah, she might have been sneaking
furtive glances at him all night, but it was for completely opposite reasons.
“Ugh, you guys are seriously the worst.”
Although she hid it underneath a playful
whine, the desire to avoid the whole Tyler issue was starting to come from a
very real place of uncertainty. She couldn’t imagine anyone understanding her
sudden hesitance to what she’d always said she wanted. Least of all, her father
who was already questioning why they weren’t busy planning their June wedding
as a white house with a tidy little picket fence was built for them somewhere
nearby town. A neat little package of domestic bliss wrapped up in enough
square footage to remind them to fill it up with pups.
It was the nice, quiet and secure future she’d
always pictured for herself. One she would’ve never second-guessed had it not
been for the tugging deep in her gut, lately. Ever since Tyler had hinted that
he was finally ready to make those commitments to her, and to their pack, an
urging in a voice very unlike her own had whispered to her at every turn.
Wait, wait, wait.
Shaking off the troubling thoughts, she
focused on helping Bonnie empty the pockets. She and Elena had now started a
debate on which angle her ass did look best, and Caroline let out an irritated grumble. ”Can we
please talk about something else? Anything else?”
Bonnie flashed her an evil grin as if she had
no intention of dropping anything when Elena brightened at the sudden opening.
“Ooh, what about your dad’s mysterious
visitor, huh? I got a look at him earlier when Stefan was showing him around,
and let me tell you, I wouldn’t kick that out in the morning.”
As grateful as Caroline was for the change of
topic, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
“Aren’t your hands full enough as it is?“
The implied dig about her situation with the
Salvatore brothers didn’t go unnoticed, and the gathering frown on the other girl’s
face made it clear she wasn’t going to let it go.
“Oh, so it’s a crime to have eyes, now?” she
muttered defensively, her voice rising steadily as she went on. “I’m not
allowed to even look at another guy just because—“
Sensing the impending argument, Bonnie quickly
interrupted whatever Elena was leading up to, no doubt staving off another
argument about a subject that had been rehashed over and over for years without
any kind of resolve.
“Well, you gotta admit,” she began
teasingly, “it’s gotten you into some scrapes, babe. Remember that fiasco
at the founder’s parade when we were freshmen?” The memory of that day had
them reluctantly smiling, and before they knew what was happening, they were
engulfed in laughter as if nothing untoward had happened.
Just then, a small commotion at the entrance
caught their attention and all three of them gave each other a confused look
before craning their necks to get a better look.
Caroline’s view was completely blocked from
her position, but Elena’s surprised gasp of “He’s actually here!” made it clear what
the fuss was all about.
The excitement and curiosity of the pack since
it was announced they were expecting some kind of important visitor had become
a familiar refrain to Caroline over the past couple of weeks. At some point or
another they had all come to her in search of any scraps of information or
tidbits on who it might be, but in truth, she knew little more than the rest of
them. She might’ve been the daughter of the current alpha, but her father had been
as tight lipped with her like everyone else.
The only insight she could offer were the
extent of the preparations for his arrival, all of which had automatically
fallen to her, of course. Admittedly, she’d enjoyed the excuse to implement
some long overdue improvements, but the fact that it was only for the sake of
some unnamed guest rankled her a bit.
Okay, it had bothered her a lot, and to the point where
she was already determined to hate him. Clearly, Mystic Falls wasn’t good
enough for the likes of him, in which case she wouldn’t mind showing him the
door and letting it slam his ass on the way out.
As if fate wanted to prove how fickle she was,
the crowd dispersed enough for Caroline to finally get a good look at him. And the ass she’d just vowed
to shove out as soon as possible.
She immediately cursed Elena’s knack for
understatement as she gave him a thorough once-over. And then another. Not
wanting to kick him out in the morning was hardly an accurate description.
She felt her wolf stir beneath her skin with growing interest as she eyed his
lean outline, noting with satisfaction that the hint of curls were just long
enough for her to rake her fingers through and pull. Even though he didn’t seem
like her usual type at all, the confidence of his easy movements in a place
crawling with wolves unknown to him spoke to an intriguing level of confidence
she and her wolf wanted to dig into with claws and teeth.
The blatantly possessive thought surprised her
enough to bring her out of her daze, but not enough to stop her from following
the lines of his chest and shoulders where his shirt clung a little tighter.
She barely caught herself before licking her lips.
“Oh my god,” Bonnie whispered lowly from
somewhere beside her, “that’s Klaus Mikaelson.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but other
than her friend’s hushed horror and the aura of danger she could sense herself,
nothing concrete materialized to curb her increasing attraction.
Shifting uncomfortably, she sat back onto the
edge of the table and leaned against her stick for better support, her damnable
knees very close to actually wobbling. This sudden hunger that permeated
throughout her entire body was as unwelcome as it was all-consuming. She wanted
to blame it on the considerable dry spell she’d been in for the past few months
since she’d put the brakes on with Tyler, but she had the creeping sensation
that it was something… more.
Even during their best, she’d never felt the
urges of her wolf push at her this hard.
She watched with undisguised curiosity as they
settled in at the bar, Stefan pointing out various people to him and making a
few introductions to those brave enough to actually approach. When their
attention shifted over to the pool table she and her friends were occupying,
Caroline’s heart lodged itself fully in her throat. Its almost painful pounding
getting even worse as she saw him start to make his way over to them with
And just as swiftly as it rose, so did it sink
to the pit of her stomach when she noticed what had caught his interest.
Elena was beautiful, of course, but the
automatic draw she had over every single person they’d ever met had some deeply
buried insecurities rushing back in to the forefront of her mind and her wolf
gnashing its fangs furiously.
He was halfway across the room when something
The offhand glance he gave her brought him to
an unnaturally abrupt halt as their eyes finally met.
Caroline didn’t understand the shockingly
immediate response of her body, but the flood of want she suddenly found
herself drowning in kept her rooted to the spot, unable to escape the intensity
of his direct gaze. She was afraid he could see her desire to bite down on
those lips written plainly across her face, but the startling blue eyes locked
with hers darkened with something far more feral. It was clear that whatever
was raging through him in that moment dwarfed even her filthiest, most secret
When she saw that he was similarly struck
immobile, an instinctive panic rose within her even as a deeper, more powerful
need to have him closer vibrated throughout every nerve.
His steps seemed faster, but less sure when he
finally resumed his path towards them. A predator made clumsy with the scent of
new and more enticing prey.
Although the entire room had stopped
pretending to be discreet and looked on with obvious astonishment, Caroline
couldn’t see any of them past the quickly approaching figure that was pinning her in
place with only the force of his gaze.
He came to stand less than a few inches in
front of her, and somewhere in the back of her mind the fact that his eyes were
flickering gold and black should have alarmed her.
“And just who might you be?”
Caroline didn’t respond immediately, the
unexpected accent throwing her even more off balance. Since the few beers she’d
had earlier could hardly be blamed for this dizzying lightheadedness, she was
forced to admit it was purely an effect of his proximity.
Ever the self-appointed white knight, Stefan
was quick to step forward. “This is— ”
Klaus held up his hand swiftly to silence him,
not even bothering to break their eye contact to address him. “I didn’t
ask you, old friend, I asked her.” The dangerous edge to his voice should have made her
shake in her boots, but apparently tonight had somehow rewired her synapses,
because it made her toes curl instead.
“Caroline,” she finally managed to
say, her forced calm in direct contrast to the riot of emotions beneath her
skin. “Caroline Forbes.” There was a flicker of something in his eyes
at that, but it quickly dissipated as he stepped even further into her personal
space, taking the pool stick from her grasp and setting it aside before
insinuating himself between her legs.
The press of his body against her own had her
biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to hold back a moan.
“Caroline,” he repeated softly, drawing out
the vowels as if to test and savor the sound of it on his tongue. “What an
interesting turn of events, this is.”
Before she could puzzle out his meaning, he
leaned forward and dragged his lips along her jaw, the shocking force of her
wolf’s pleasure drowning out any other rational thought.
It had taken Caroline years to leash the more
basic urges of her animal, and with one brush of his cheek against hers, it was
instantly severed. He let his hands roam freely along her body, and instead of
pushing him away, her wolf begged for more.
It was only when he grabbed a fistful of hair
at the base of her skull that she stiffened in his hold and dug her nails deep
into the back of his arms. As a warning, or an entreaty— she wasn’t quite sure.
Either way, it seemed to please him, and he
hummed deep in the back of his throat. Tugging on his grip just short of rough,
he tilted her face up to meet his.
A twisting sense of both alarm and excitement
coursed through her at the strange sight of both hardening veins and his
glowing yellow eyes. The instinct buried deep in the back of her mind rang
clear with the recognition that he was more than just a wolf, but the longer he
held her stare, the less important it seemed.
“I think you’re mine, little Caroline Forbes.”
Any half-hearted protests or objections were cut short when he bared his fangs,
and finally, just as she was about to lean over and give him the length of her
throat, she registered the looks of varying horror and disbelief among the
He licked over the throbbing pulse at the base
of her neck with a self-satisfied chuckle, and a sudden burst of indignation
exploded inside of her with the realization he was going to claim her right
then and there.
It was the single most significant thing that
would ever happen in her life and it was about to happen in a crowded bar, by a
man she didn’t even know, with whom she’d shared less than a handful of words.
The edge of his teeth were cool where it
pressed against her heated skin, and spurred her on to reach out to her sides
for something, anything—
Her fingers settled on a discarded beer bottle
and without hesitation she brought it up to crash right against the side of his
Later, she might savor the look of utter shock
on his face, but in that moment all she could think was that he was lucky she
hadn’t gotten ahold of the pool stick.
okay so, i’d like to dump a bunch of Allrianne/Shallan/Rysn (i’m thinking Shallriasn for a ship name??? but that’s subject to change if anyone has better ideas) headcanons and thoughts:
Shallan’s lightweaving and and Allrianne’s emotional allomancy are just screaming for a spy au
(they probably call themselves the ‘bi spies’ bc they’re cheesy and cute like that)
speaking of emotional allomancy, Allrianne hardly has to riot Shallan and Rysn’s emotions bc they are already Useless when faced with pretty girls
…not that it stops her.
Rysn likes to quote that one Sappho poem about feeling pale as grass and close to death pretty much whenever she sees her beautiful girlfriends
the three of them are all stubborn AF so together they’re like the triforce of ignoring other people’s advice
this leads to shenanigans.
Allrianne likes to do her girlfriends’ hair and makeup and put them in pretty dresses and then cry about how perfect they look
Allrianne thinks her girlfriends look perfect whatever they’re wearing tbh
she is also Obsessed with Rysn’s pretty eyebrows and I hc that Thaylen people have pretty long eyelashes to match as well so can you imagine what mascara would do to those?
Rysn actually has quite a green thumb so their house is filled with flowers so Shallan always has something to sketch and Allrianne always has daisies or roses in her hair.
Shallan also has an entire sketchbook just for drawings of Rysn and Allrianne.
When Shallan is stressed she gets twice the hugs and a kiss on both cheeks at the same time.
Rysn and Allrianne think Shallan’s safepouch is the Root Of All Evil bc it stops them both holding her hand at the same time.
they team up to convince her to ‘just wear a glove babe please!’
This makes Shallan extra blushy
Their house is Aesthetic af.
their house also serves as the hq for their fashion brand, with Allrianne picking fabrics and always having an eye for trends, Shallan sketching ideas, and Rysn being in charge of the financial side of things.
This is perhaps a leetle more angsty than I intended. Set literally hours after the Tython incursion (before we learn that Korriban was hit). Mara and Quinn are dealing with the aftermath of his betrayal and her poor reaction to it.
With a sigh Mara pressed the call chime on the door to Malavai’s quarters. She was exhausted and filthy - a combination of sweat, dirt, and Republic blood - but something told her it would be a mistake to wait until after she’d cleaned up to see her husband.
The door slid open and he stood for a moment staring at her.
“May I come in?”
He nodded mutely and stepped aside as much as was possible in the tiny confines of the single berth. Mara surveyed the space in the span of a heartbeat. The quarters were spartan and lacking any personalization. She took that as a good sign. Despite serving for six months on Darth Arkous’s tactical team - despite being ordered off the Fury by her in the heat of yet another argument about his betrayal - he had not made a home here.
“The tactics behind the Tython incursion were flawless; I’m impressed.“
Malavai grimaced at her words, and she cringed inwardly. She’d meant it as a sincere compliment, but her words sounded remote, coldly professional.
“Thank you, my lord.”
A standard, coldly professional reply. They stood in silence for an interminable length of time, he at an easy parade rest, his eyes fixed on some point behind her; she looking around the room and trying not to drown in the scent of him, trying to decide what to say next, wishing he would fill the silence.
But like I can totally imagine Italy and Portugal being the top 2 and this means two songs in national languages in the top 2 can you freaking believe it AND THIS CAN TOTALLY HAPPEN omg can we fast forward to Saturday already?
Because let’s face it, Portugal WILL win the semi-final. Or at least it WILL qualify. Otherwise we will riot.
No, she is a riot of emotions, tumbling forth from the darkest clouds like a thousand heavy raindrops, ready to drown you in an instant, should you step too close.
She is the sun shining on your face that makes you believe in fairy tales although you swore you outgrew them in fifth grade and that they were stupid.
She is the wind, too stubborn to let you pass in a blizzard, too proud to let you win. And yet like the cool summer breeze she will calm your mind, extinguishing in the process the very fire she burned you with.
She is strong like diamond, formed in the extremest of conditions, yet she is also weak like crystal, easily broken and hard to mend.
Her sobs will break your heart and her laughter will heal it again, and you’ll wonder how someone so happy can be so sad at the same time.
Her words will be crafted so eloquently you’ll wonder where she learnt to speak like this and to disguise her emotions so well. And you will search, under the many layers of contradiction that she hides, to find the lost and frightened girl from long ago.
And if you’re lucky enough that she lets you in, past the fortresses and walls; if you’re lucky enough to see a side to her which is vulnerable and unguarded; innocent and trusting, don’t take it for granted or treat her like she’s insignificant.
She’s complex and a mystery. But if she gives you her heart she will love you fiercely and without exception.
She is not beautiful. But she hopes you will love her just the same.
I’ve come a long way.
That’s the tricky thing about emotional abuse, there are no physical signs to show.
When you finally manage to talk to someone even though speaking about it is almost as scary as the person themselves, you’re not taken seriously.
You can only get so far telling people about how happiness feels like nothing more than a cruel joke made by God, while fear is as common as sleeping - or at least, as common as sleeping used to be.
For a while, talking didn’t really make sense, so I took to making scars of my own.
When the pain wouldn’t stop and the inside of my head became too loud, I thought about taking my own life, a fitting end for a worthless girl.
But one day, it clicked.
I was never worthless to begin with.
I took your words with more salt than they were worth, I let them get under my skin when they should have bounced off because I love you.
You were a parasite, you fed off of my despair until you figured I was ‘too much to handle’ and to this day I can’t figure out if that was the truth or another one of your twisted lies.
I have to say, you messed me up.
But you haven’t ruined me.
I still have days when sadness climbs into bed with me like we’re long lost friends, and I still have days when I wonder if I’m really worth anything at all, but I’m better off now than I was when I was with you.
I’m not afraid of you anymore.
Maxwell Diawuoh, Request: A person no longer being afraid of their abuser.
Darkened vision Glaringly bright white extremes Pieces and pieces and mantras repeated Painted on cracked walls and bricks and knuckles Gaps in reality and consciousness that break An off, an on, no dials or settings switches When numbers have no value and Words carry too much Stitches have fallen out but There isn’t any spare thread Those red shadows that dilute the sun Intoxicate-
The mentalist has you awake. You are once more, in between and beige Your dull heart still beats, unfazed Dab ammonia on the blood stains