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The Vampire Diaries - Blog Posts
Be still and know that I’m with you
Be still and know that I am here
Be still and know that I’m with you
Be still, be still, and know.
↳ The Vampire Diaries 3x20 || Legacies 4x05
Kol Mikaelson
↳ The Vampire Diaries 4×12 - A View to a Kill
Vampire Diaries Characters as Tarot Cards
If The Vampire Diaries characters were tarot cards, which would they be?
Elena Gilbert - The Lovers / The High Priestess
The Lovers: Elena is the emotional core of the series and is often caught between love choices.
The High Priestess: She also grows into her own power and intuition, embodying mystery and duality like The High Priestess.
Stefan Salvatore - The Hanged Man
Stefan is constantly sacrificing himself for others and his journey is marked by introspection, suffering, and redemption.
Damon Salvatore - The Devil / The Fool
The Devil: Damon represents temptation, desire, and chaos.
The Fool: But he also has a surprising journey of growth, making him an unconventional Fool - constantly starting over.
Bonnie Bennett - The Magician
Bonnie is the conduit between worlds and channels immense energy. She turns will into reality.
Caroline Forbes - The Empress
Caroline embodies growth, beauty, motherhood, and leadership. She transforms from an insecure teen into a regal, nurturing force.
Katherine Pierce - The Tower
Katherine is destruction and rebirth personified. She burns everything down to survive.
Alaric Saltzman - The Hierophant
Alaric is the moral compass, a teacher, and a guide for the younger characters. He represents tradition and wisdom.
Klaus Mikaelson - The Emperor / Judgment
The Emperor: He demands control and order.
Judgment: But his arc is one of reckoning, forgiveness, and facing consequences.
Elijah Mikaelson - Justice
Elijah is the moral one, devoted to balance, honor, and fairness - even when it cost him personally.
Rebekah Mikaelson - The Star
Rebekah is a symbol of hope, longing, and desire for a better life. The Star captures her vulnerability and dreams.
Hayley Marshall - Strength
Hayley is courageous, resilient, and protective love. She stands strong for her daughter and her beliefs.
Marcel Gerard - The Chariot
He is a self made king, Marcel drives his will with ambition and direction. He battles adversity with focused control.
Love Language - Elijah Mikaelson
Acts of Service
Elijah would handle problems before you even knew they existed.
If you much mention that someone is bothering you, he's arranging a “peaceful” resolution.
He will make time for you no matter what.
Even in the middle of the chaos that is his family and the people that mess with them, he would still make time to check in with you.
“You’ve been on my mind. Are you alright?”
He doesn’t just listen, he follows through. You're telling him how stressed you are? He’s already drawing you a hot bath.
He’s extremely observant. You admire a necklace in a store window? It will show up on your dresser in a little velvet box, placed perfectly.
You say your coat is old? There will be a custom wool coat in your size, tailored just for you.
He’s not flashy, he’s intentional.
If anything threatens your happiness, he’s already working behind the scenes.
You will never know the full extent of what he’s doing because he doesn’t need credit, the only thing he needs is for you to be happy and safe.
He will try his hardest to make your life easier.
If you’re having a bad week, he doesn’t smother you. He handles things.
Groceries just “appear” in your kitchen.
Your car is expertly cleaned and the tank full.
That moisturizer you don’t have time to replace, already done.
He does all this to say in his own way, “You will never have to carry the weight alone again.”
He would be your armor and sanctuary all in one.
hi my loves, i’ve opened my requests!! I’ll only write for certain vampire diaries characters!! Smut, Fluff & angst all welcome 💋💋
ALSO!!! new update for nyx’s nightfall this thursday!!
As well as letting me know if you’d like to be on the tag list for it!!
XOXO
- mia
MASTERLIST
⋆˚✿˖° Spideysbabe’s Full Masterlist. ⋆˚✿˖°
All updates are at least once a week, in college so bare with me! ⋆˚✿˖°
All series are available to read on my wattpad as well -
@/-rafescam3ron
NYX’s NIGHTFALL
In the heart of a small town, Natalya, a once vibrant and hopeful soul, finds herself entangled in the labyrinth of grief and loss. The story unravels against a backdrop or personal tragedies and shattered dreams. as natalya confronts a series of harrowing challenges that test her resilience to its core……
𝐊𝐨𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭
(𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐊𝐨𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧)
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 𝟗.𝟓𝐤
series masterlist:
the beginning - welcome to the story, the first little tidbit!
cast - what i imagine my fic to look like
act one
chapter 1 - follow natalya, elena, and bonnie on the first day of junior year.
chapter 2 - the beginning of the end for natalya
chapter 3 - damon’s got his fangs natalya
𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝑀𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 - 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 (𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃)
save me - request - He was going to be your downfall. You already knew that, but what you didn’t expect was for you’re fate to be in his brothers hands.
𝐊𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛．．．
𝐊𝐨𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝗡𝘆𝘅’𝘀 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 - 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨
𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏
NYX’s NIGHTFALL
𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
𝐍𝐲𝐱 | (𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐌𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲)
𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭; 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．
｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟﾟ･｡
In the depths of the cosmos, where the stars danced in eternal harmony and the celestial beings reigned supreme, there existed Nyx, the goddess of the night. Cloaked in darkness and adorned with the shimmering jewels of the night sky, Nyx was a figure of mystery and power. But beneath her enigmatic exterior lay a soul burdened by struggles that mirrored the depths of the cosmos she ruled. Nyx's first struggle came from her own nature. Born from Chaos itself, she embodied the primordial darkness that existed before creation. Many feared her, shunning her as an omen of doom and despair. Her second struggle arose from her tumultuous relationship with Erebus, the god of primordial darkness. Their union was one of passion and conflict, as their opposing natures clashed like cosmic forces colliding in the void. Despite their love, they were often consumed by darkness, their union bringing chaos and destruction in its wake.As the goddess of the night, Nyx bore witness to the sorrows and fears of mortals as they slept. Their nightmares and anxieties weighed heavily on her heart, and she longed to bring them peace and solace. Yet, try as she might, she could not banish the darkness from their dreams. Nyx's greatest struggle, however, came from within herself. Immortal though she was, she yearned for connection and understanding, a longing that seemed impossible to fulfill. Surrounded by the vast emptiness of the cosmos, she felt isolated and alone, her darkness swallowing her whole. But amidst the shadows, there flickered a glimmer of hope. Nyx discovered that within the depths of her darkness lay the potential for transformation and renewal. Embracing her struggles as part of her divine nature, she began to see the beauty in her darkness, the stars shining brightest against the backdrop of night. With newfound purpose and resolve, Nyx embarked on a journey of self-discovery and redemption. She reached out to mortals, offering them the comfort of her embrace and the promise of dreams that whispered of hope and possibility. She forged alliances with other gods and goddesses, finding strength in unity and understanding. As the eons passed, Nyx's darkness became a beacon of light in the cosmos, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, there is beauty and possibility waiting to be discovered. And so, Nyx's struggles transformed into triumphs, her darkness giving birth to stars that illuminated the heavens with their brilliance. In the end, Nyx emerged from the shadows as a symbol of resilience and redemption, a testament to the enduring power of darkness to bring forth light. And though her struggles may have been many, they were but stepping stones on her journey to embrace the infinite possibilities of the cosmos she ruled.
𝐇𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐲𝐱'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤! 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐎𝐂. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 , 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.
𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭. 𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝.
𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!!
𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎 -
𝐌𝐢𝐚 ♡
Klaus and Caroline in “Dangerous Liaisons”
SAVE ME A DANCE, FONDLY, KLAUS
“she’s literally me”
Always and forever
Rebekah Mikaelson
I’m in like ten different fandoms but I can’t watch them because either are they 18+ or aren’t on Netflix, I’m gonna loos my mind!!!
Elena is my favorite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sike
This is one of my favorite couples
Morning Sickness | Klaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader
Summary: You're pregnant with Klaus' child. And because of that, you're not feeling so well. Alone in the Mikaelson mansion with Klaus, you're puking all over the place and looking like the shittiest you've ever been──in short, you're a gigantic mess. Unfortunately for Klaus though, he doesn't know that any of those things are normal in a pregnancy and starts fussing over you. And you would've considered it cute, had the fussing not been from him.
Word Count: 2,010
Warning ⚠️: Fluff, angst if you squint, pregnancy, puking, profanity, and reader being a bad bitch.
A/N: If you're confused about the summary (don't worry, I am too lol) this imagine is basically when Hayley was pregnant in season 1 of TO (the first few episodes) but instead of her being preggo, its you. And Klaus being a dramatic bitch, as usual, when he sees you choking your guts out, not knowing that that's normal. (because he's been dead for 1,000 years and is a literal male, so id expect him not to know anything about pregnancies and how they work) P.S feel free to dm me a request!
Pregnant.
You were pregnant.
With Klaus Mikaelson's child.
The thought alone was enough to send another round of bile up your throat until its gushing out of your mouth and into the toilet before you. For the third time that very same morning, mind you.
"Fuck this," You cursed as you swiped your wrist against your mouth, panting. "Where the hell is Hayley?" You muttered under your breath as you pushed yourself up and made a beeline for the bedroom connecting to your bathroom with the intention of getting your phone to contact the she-wolf after reassuring yourself multiple times that you were not going to puke again and flushing the toilet.
Pregnant.
You're actually pregnant.
Your eyes flickered down to your belly, the barely noticeable extra weight wouldn't be visible to a stranger's eyes, but to your own, you could see it clear as day. You didn't know how you didn't notice it before. Stupid.
Wincing, you walked towards the bedroom you've been occupying these past few days──a far cry from the one star motels you and Hayley used to stay in as you two traveled around the country in search of her family, and most definitely a massive upgrade from the creepy cemetery you were held captive in a week ago.
You never thought a visit to Mystic Falls could change your life so drastically. You didn't even know what the hell you were thinking when you decided to sleep with Klaus of all people.
"And look how that turned out," You mumbled bitterly to yourself as you plopped down on the inviting bed, sighing. You spied your phone tucked under one of the fluffy pillows and had it in your grasp in a matter of moments. Putting the device to your ear after dialing Hayley's number, you waited impatiently for the she-wolf to answer.
She answered on the second ring.
"Where are you?" Not wasting a beat, you immediately asked.
"Good morning to you too," Hayley quipped dryly. You could almost see her rolling her eyes. Almost.
"You're not in the plantation," You'd know, considering for the past five days since you've been staying in this awfully big house, or mansion (whatever), Hayley's always been the first face you see when you woke up. Until today.
"True. I'm at the Bayou."
You sat up straight at that, "What?" You demanded.
Unbothered by your change of tone, she continued, "I found something real interesting, Y/N. I think it might be the real deal this time." Translation: she's found something about her long-lost family.
You didn't want to give her false hope, and you weren't too willing to start a fight by saying it could be another dead end either, so you stayed silent, willing her to continue.
"I'm with Rebekah, so there's no need to worry. It's not good for the baby."
You scoffed at that, "That just makes me want to worry even more, dumbass. Why the heck didn't you wake me up? I could've accompanied you instead."
"You're pregnant," She said the words as if they were the answers to every question in the world.
"Brilliant observation," You snapped, not being able to resist.
Hayley let out a breath, "I'll be back by noon, Y/N. I'll call you if I find anything interesting."
"And what am I going to be doing until then?"
"Nothing." She says, and hangs up before you could get another, no doubt, sarcastic line in.
"Bitch!" You hissed and, in your rage, threw the phone at the wall, the sound of the impact reverberating loudly through this stupidly wide and empty looking room. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're all of a sudden a damsel in distress. You're the opposite of a damsel, actually. You didn't need to be coddled. You can handle yourself perfectly fine.
A knock on your door steals you out of your thoughts. You racked your brain for any possible faces you might see if you decide to climb out of bed and open the door (sounds extremely tiring, by the way) and only found one: since Elijah was currently somewhere in the hands of Marcel, and because Rebekah and Hayley are in the slums of the Bayou, then that would mean. . .heck no.
"Nobody's here!" You call out, the words coming out muffled because your face is currently stuffed in a heap of awfully comfortable pillows.
The door opens anyway, ignoring your words, and Klaus enters the room, hands clasped behind his back and lips set into a grim line. His eyes are darting around the room as if to search for any signs of danger, shoulders slackening slightly when he finds none.
"I heard a thud."
You rolled your eyes, "It was my phone." You were surprised he even bothered knocking in the first place. He doesn't seem like the type to do so. But then again, you barely know the guy. I know enough.
He doesn't reply, so you took it upon yourself to ask: "What do you want?" Tone far from friendly. You slept with him once and got knocked up──boo hoo, you couldn't care less. From what you've observed, the guy's an ass. He daggered his own brother for goodness sake. He deserves your attitude.
Lunatic, you are a raging lunatic for sleeping with him.
"I came to check up on you," You could barely contain your laughter at his revelation. Ridiculous. You seemed to say with your eyes. Noticing this, he smiles tightly, "Something funny, love?" Passive aggression practically dripped from his words.
You don't answer him, instead, you roll over, turning your back on him, only to feel that familiar churn in your stomach. The same feeling you have when──"Oh, fuck." You yelped. Faster than light, you're back in the bathroom, kneeling in front of a toilet and hands pressed against the walls as you braced yourself.
"What the bloody hell is──" Klaus, furrowed eyebrows and all, marches after you.
You don't bother to tell him to shut the fuck up despite your great temptation to do so before you're hurling your guts out. Again.
Behind you, Klaus goes rigged, hands clenching into fists, he does the only thing he remembers to do then. Walking up to you, he gathers your hair in his hands, away from your face, and waits. Surprisingly calm, despite his strong urge to shake your shoulders for an explanation as to why you were sick.
Too busy throwing up, you don't even notice the gesture.
It felt like a lifetime before you finally felt okay again. You're leaning against the wall, still on the floor, heartbeat irregular and drenched in your own sweat. A towel appears in your line of sight, and just above that, Klaus.
You take the towel from him, albeit hesitantly, and used it to wipe the remaining puke around your mouth. "Thanks," You croaked, voice hoarse.
"Explain," is all he says.
Confused, you cocked your head to the side in question.
"Explain," He repeats, tone deathly calm. Too calm, in fact.
You squint your eyes, "I puked. Now I'm fine. The end." You shoved the towel back to him, to which he glowers at, and stroll, or more like crawl (but your dignity──or what's left of it anyway──won't ever let you admit that) back to your bed with Klaus hot on your heels.
"You're unwell. I want to know why." He doesn't let you reply, "If something bad happens to the baby I──"
You cut him off, "──what is your point?" You crane your neck, your eyes connecting with his own.
A scowl takes over his face, "My point is that you, Y/N, have clearly not been taking care of yourself which means that my child could be suffering because of your carelessness."
Your expression is the definition of confusion until──oh. You laughed out loud, grinning ear-to-ear. Klaus' scowl deepened at the sound, pointedly ignoring the flutter in his stomach upon seeing you smile for the first time since. . .ever.
"You are so stupid," Blunt, you were blunt. And very outspoken too. Never afraid to speak your mind, even when it comes to calling him stupid to his face. Your straightforward personality was what caught his attention back in Mystic Falls. That, and your undeniable beauty too.
He opens his mouth to retort something snarky but you beat him to the punch, "Do you even know why I'm puking, you asshole?" Yes, straightforward indeed. "Because of the baby." You hiss, your smile fading this time. He blinks. "Don't they teach you this shit in middle school?"
"I'm a thousand years old," was all he could say to defend himself.
You glare at him, "All the more reason why you should know how pregnancies work." His scowl diminishes into a tight line, "So the next time you accuse me of being irresponsible," you mocked, "think twice." You sneered, "Now get out!"
Any other day, any other person, Klaus wouldn't have listened to the command. But somehow, you managed to do the impossible again, this time though, you made him listen. And so with one last wary glance your way, he walks out of your room.
000
You're in the balcony when Klaus sees you again. Gazing at the night sky silently and arms perched on the railing──your back to him──you were quite a majestic sight. Hair hanging over your back and clad in a white nightgown, and with the star-filled night sky in front of you, the view in front of him looked fresh out of a painting.
His hand twitched at his side, eager to paint the picture before him. With you as his muse. It would make one hell of a painting, he notes.
"Come to tell me how much of a bad mother I am again?" You spoke up without turning around.
Klaus doesn't reply until he's standing beside you, "No, I come bearing a peace offering."
Your interest peaked at that. "What is it?" You turn your body slightly to face him, eyes automatically dropping to the item in his hand. A medium-sized box with a red bow on top of it.
He pushes the box to you, and never one to deny free stuff, even if its from him, you gladly take it from his hands. "See for yourself."
You open the box with careful precision, and after setting aside the bow and the cover, your gaze locks onto the jewelry inside of it. A necklace, diamond, and hella expensive judging by the word TIFFANY & CO engraved in the side of the box.
"Hayley has informed me of your love for jewelry."
Understatement of the century.
"So you decided to buy me a necklace worth millions as an apology?"
"Compel," He corrected, you flashed him an unimpressed stare. "And yes, this is my. . .apology for wrongfully accusing you this morning."
When you continued to remain silent, he said in a slightly irritated tone, "Well? Do you accept?"
"No."
He blanched.
"I want an actual apology." He raised his eyebrows in inquiry. "I want to hear you say I'm sorry."
Klaus looked like he wanted to do anything but, but eventually decided against it. "I'm sorry," He said through gritted teeth.
You grinned, and damn him if the sight of it didn't make his heart clench. "Better."
He eyed the box in your hands, "Does this mean you don't want the necklace?"
Your smile widened, "Oh, I want it, alright. I just wanted to hear you say sorry." You patted his chest lightly and every muscle in his body practically sang in delight at your touch. "Looks like you aren't so bad, after all, Klaus." And after sending him a wink, your stunning eyes glittering under the moonlight, you proceed to skip away from him.
Klaus follows your form with his eyes until you disappear into a dark hallway, and then mutters under his breath, a tiny smile ghosting over his lips, "Neither are you, Y/N."
✢ The Vampire Diaries ✢ Masterlist ✢
Just a little disclaimer, all my works use female pronouns for the reader. Besides this, I keep the reader undescribed, the only filler I use being 'Y/N' <3
D A M O N S A L V A T O R E
One-Shots:
The Day Before |Part 2 ✢ The reader knows she is dying, and to save Damon from the pain of her death, she makes an extremely difficult decision. However, the aftermath of this decision takes a great toll on Damon and the people who know him.
Series: Revenant ✢ Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? (This is a supernatural crossover)
Drabbles:
Coming soon...
Headcanons:
Coming soon...
E L I J A H M I K A E L S O N
One-Shots:
Ephemeral ✢ Elijah Mikaelson reflects on how knowing Y/N L/N has transformed his centuries-old existence. As he battles his deep feelings for her, he grapples with the stark reality of their pivotal difference: he is an immortal vampire, and she is a fragile human.
Drabbles:
Coming soon...
Headcanons:
Coming soon...
S T E F A N S A L V A T O R E
One-Shots:
coming soon...
Drabbles:
Coming soon...
Headcanons:
Coming soon...
Enjoy <3
ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ －ｅｉｇｈｔ
PART EIGHT OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader The Vampire Diaries x SupernaturalMini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence. Words: 3,351k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part (Coming Soon) >
After three-quarters of an hour, the hairdryer was still running. Dean had been half-asleep when he registered the faint whirring sound from the bathroom and realised it had been going for far too long. He was still sitting hunched with his hands over his face, exactly as he had been when she left the room with a slam of a door; after he had spoken those dreaded words.
‘He didn’t have a choice, I would’ve died then too…’ Y/N had muttered when he had asked how this could happen. He remembered her tears as she spoke, they had made her eyes look like glass.
‘Well, maybe he should have let you…’
The words sent a chill through him; how could he have said that to her? But was he wrong? Would she not be better off?
His mind had briefly wandered back to the case — the ghouls, the bloodstains — but the moment stretched, and the realisation hit him. His pulse kicked up, sending a jolt through his body as his eyes snapped open.
Y/N was not in her bed. Y/N was not anywhere.
The grim image of her body upon the old wooden table, paired with the awful, rusty scent of her blood, made him flinch as if he had been struck.
He stood up fast, his heart lurching in his chest as his feet steadied on the cold and grimy motel floor. The room was quiet, too quiet. The only sound was the damn hair dryer still buzzing in the air.
He got up and moved toward the bathroom without thought, like a man possessed. The door was shut, and a sliver of light spilled out from under the threshold, illuminating the dusk-darkened room.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and was met with no resistance; it was already unlocked. The hairdryer’s hum intensified through the now-open door as it oscillated on the edge of the sink.
But there was no sign of Y/N.
There was no beloved sister standing there, her back to him as she dried her hair in the mirror, as she had done a hundred times prior. He hesitated at the doorway, and then his heart stopped. The bathroom was empty.
Empty. She was missing, and in transition, how could he be so irresponsible? How could he let himself drift off? She was dangerous now; she could hurt someone. He counted the hours back in his head since he had last slept and was kicking himself with the realisation of just how long it had been; he had needed to be awake and alert for her, and he failed.
He moved quickly, tearing through the small space and flipping the shower curtain aside frantically — as if he did not already know she was not there. He stared at the moulded, derelict tile walls in dismay, noticing the scent of soap still lingering in the air.
His breath came faster. His brain was scrambling to catch up with what his eyes were telling him. He spotted her old, bloodied clothes sitting discarded on the porcelain of the toilet seat, they were the only possessions of hers that remained, the room was bare. A flash of movement at the edge of his vision made him snap his head up — the window. It was wide open.
‘Shit.' He muttered, noticing the high pitch of his panic.
He spun on his heels, stumbling back into the room. His gaze darted to the bed, and for a second, he convinced himself that maybe…
No, she was not there; he knew this.
Her things were missing, her bed was made, and now he was left wondering how far away she had gotten. He flipped his phone open and dialled her number, his fingers moving nimbly as a reflex, yet still trembling horribly. He had called this number many times in the past few months, and like clockwork, each time, he would be met with her voicemail; tonight was no exception. He snapped the phone shut and threw it to her bed.
Dean’s stomach clenched and he leaned over placing his hands in his knees. No. No. He wasn’t going to let her go down this road. Not after everything they had been through. But what could he do? It was already too late for her.
‘Sam!’ His voice was sharp, frantic, the kind of desperation that hit with the force of a freight train.
Sam had been standing behind him, getting up to follow Dean in his alarm, his face already clouded with worry before the scene of the bathroom had even registered before him.
‘She’s gone,’ Dean snapped, pacing the small room, his mind running in a hundred directions at once. ‘She’s—‘ He cut himself off, eyes locking on the open window through the door. ‘She’s gone, Sam. She—‘
Sam was already moving toward the door, his face drawn, filled with a dread that was becoming all too familiar. ‘Surely, she can’t be far. We need to find her…’
Dean shook his head, his frustration boiling over. That is not what he meant. He did not mean she was missing, he meant that she was gone. ‘What the hell, Sam? She’s not some lost puppy we’re gonna find wandering down the road! She’s a damn vampire, and she…’
He had already begun to mourn her; she had died in their arms. He had stared at her decrepit corpse for hours, refusing to accept the actuality before him. He remembered the way he had pleaded for it not to be true. Now, she walked again, but it was not the same; it could never be the same as it was. It seemed like a sick, twisted joke.
‘Dean, we don’t know that. She might not have done that yet—’ Sam interrupted him, avoiding the specifics, not only to placate Dean but because he could not stomach the idea himself; he did not want to see her that way, he did not want the image in his mind.
His voice was softer but firm, pulling his brother’s focus back. He continued,
‘She’s our sister, Dean. We don’t know what she’s doing. She could be in danger.’ Sam shuddered,
She was not in danger herself now, but the one who is dangerous; Y/N was the threat now, and the notion made him sick.
‘No, you don’t get it,’ Dean’s voice dropped low, dark. ‘She’s gone, Sam. We both know it.’ His eyes burned with a venomous anger; his hands balled into fists at his sides. As his bitter words flowed, he believed them more and more. He knew if they went looking for her, she would never be found. She does not exist on this plane anymore; the girl he loved, his sister, was lost perpetually.
‘She’s lost to us. She’s a damn monster now, and it doesn’t matter what we say, or how many times we look at her like she’s still the girl we raised, the sister we loved. That’s not her anymore.’
‘She’s dead… She died — in our arms last night,’ Dean choked on his words as he desperately tried for air, why was it so hard to breathe? Why was the room spinning?
‘It was my fault, I should have died… Not her.’ The words were barely spoken, coming out in a gasp, Sam could barely make them out, needing to follow the movement of his brother’s lips.
‘That girl we saw today, that’s not her, it can’t be; she was a fake.’ Dean shook with vexation once more, with Y/N, with himself, Sam was not sure.
He froze, his heart skipping. He had not seen Dean this angry in a long time — swallowed whole by rage. Sam’s shoulders began to quake with his own agony; he registered a distant and inhuman cry, he did not have enough time to wonder where it was coming from before he realised they were his own sobs. Why did they sound so far away? Why was he so disconnected from his own body?
‘Dean…’ His voice faltered as he looked at his brother. It was not just anger that shook him. It was grief. Grief, mingled with guilt and a twisted, violent kind of regret. The kind that made you do things you would have never thought of in a hundred years.
Dean shook his head; the words tumbling out in a dangerous rush.
‘I’m not going to save her, Sam. I’m not going to pretend she’s still the person we knew. ’ He turned sharply, pacing to the door. How had he found this resolve so suddenly? Had he not yearned to find her only moments earlier? Dean struggled to recall when she had become the stranger he pictured now, the monster. She had not looked like a monster when she awoke from her death, when they had realised what must have happened.
‘She died last night, killed by those god-awful ghouls. She’s not the same. And if we don’t do something about it, people are going to get hurt. It’s time we finish this. Her case. And the supernatural problem that ruined her life. Our lives.’
Sam stepped toward him, with words already on his tongue. Surely, he could not mean that. He could not possibly be suggesting they hunt their own sister. But Dean was already halfway out the door.
‘You’re not—’ thinking straight, Sam wanted to say, but Dean was already gone.
With a moment of hesitation and a breath of bitter air, Sam followed him out.
Dean's fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles tense and pale, as he drove toward the town. That awful, revolting, loathsome town. The anger — his blinding anger — throbbed through him, it thudded in his ears and pulsed within his veins. He could feel it in his gut, a gnawing beast that told him he had to finish what she had started. He had to rid the world of whatever vile supernatural force had taken his sister away from him. And if that meant tearing Mystic Falls apart, so be it. If that meant killing the vampire who had turned her... then that is what he was going to do.
Damon Salvatore.
The name felt like bile in his throat and burned like acid. The more he thought about ‘it’, that repulsive creature, the tighter his grip on the wheel became. He knew the bastard had to die. If not for him, Y/N would not have become the thing she was now; the abomination. She would not have disappeared into the night. She would not have lost herself andhe would not have lost her. It was Damon who was to blame. Damon was the cause of all this.
He had no sympathy. No understanding. Not when it came to hurting her.
And hurt her he had.
Deep down, hidden beneath layers of wrath and chagrin, Dean knew why he was acting this way. He knew that if Y/N had truly died, he would be doing absolutely everything in his power to bring her back, and he would not have rested until he was successful. He would have done anything. But now, he could never bring her back — save her from this fate. If that abhorrent vampire had left her alone, she would be salvageable, even if it meant Dean needed to die in her place.
Dean’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening with each passing mile. He barely registered Sam’s quiet words beside him. ‘Dean, stop. We have to think of this rationally —’
‘I’m not stopping, Sam,’ Dean cut him off sharply, his voice low, strained and cold.
‘We’re going to Mystic Falls. And we’re finishing it.’ His eyes flickered to Sam briefly, and for a moment, the weight of what he was saying hung in the air as tears filled his eyes. ‘I’m done, Sam. I’m done— ’
Sam watched him quietly, trying to gauge if there was any part of the man he used to know in the eyes staring out the windshield, his brother. But it was hard to tell, the burning in his eyes showed a stranger. Dean was consumed — swallowed whole by something darker than grief. He was already lost, and Sam feared there would be no bringing him back.
‘Listen to me for a second, would you?’ Sam's voice was heated, raised for the first time all evening. ‘She had vampire blood in her system, did you ever stop and think about what that means?’ Dean began to speak, but Sam raised his hand, silencing him with a scalding look that Dean saw in the corner of his vision.
‘She said she would have died anyway, their blood heals people, that… vampire —’ The word made him cringe, ‘obviously, saved her life.’
Though, Sam did not understand; it did not make sense. Why would he save her? A hunter. Why was she with him in the first place? How could she bear being near him? Knowing what he is. But it did not matter, it did not change what he already knew.
Dean started again, but Sam cut him off.
‘She died on the ghoul case… with us, we killed her, we did it — not him.’
Sam gazed out through the windshield as tears clouded his vision, streetlights turned to indistinguishable dots of light as they loomed closer. This realisation stung and cut his throat like small blades as he expelled ragged breaths. But he continued away,
‘But she’s still here, Dean. She’s not gone — not yet, anyway,’ He gasped out, ‘She holds the same memories, the same personality, it’s her. And if we can get to her, we can help her.’
‘Dean, we don’t even know if she is in Mystic Falls, what if we’re leaving her behind?’
But his words fell on deaf ears; Dean stared forward as if he had said nothing at all, and Sam slumped back in his seat, defeated. Staring numbly at the dark silhouettes of trees as they flew past them.
Y/N stood in front of the grand fireplace in the Salvatore boarding house, the warmth of the crackling fire barely reaching the chill that had settled deep within her. The flames danced in hypnotic patterns, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls, against her skin — yet all she could see before her were the faces of her brothers.
She let her fingers graze the mantle, her eyes tracing the cracks in the stone as if they might conceal the answers to the questions she could not bring herself to mutter. She could still hear Dean’s voice, sharp and angry, his words slicing through the distance between them like a blade.
Well, maybe he should have let you…
His words had cut off, he knew he had gone too far, but she knew it was what he truly believed. He had thought she was better off dead. He would rather she was not here.
She pondered that reality for a moment. Suppose she had died the night of the founder’s ball. Maybe it might have been easier. Maybe she would not have needed to feel all this grief for her brothers. But then she thought of Damon, and she realised, halfway content, that she was glad that did not happen, at least for him. She remembered the way he had cried over her, pleading with her to drink his blood. At least she was certain of this much; she could not leave Damon, she could not bear to hurt him. How could that dreaded night already seem a lifetime ago? It was only the night before the last.
She had believed, once, for a very brief moment in time, that this affliction might only be temporary—that there was still some thread of humanity she could cling to. That her brothers would save her. Bearing witness to years of their escapades had her believing there was nothing that they could not do. And this was just another problem, another puzzle to be solved; but she knew that was selfish — to expect so much from them.
But that did not matter now, and she had never truly believed it and the reality of what she had become quelled that fragile hope regardless. This was her reality now: vampires do not age; they never change. They did not get to go back to the lives they had before.
And she was no exception.
She could almost feel their rejection, the weight of their disappointment hanging in the air, suffocating her with every harsh breath. Deans anger had been cold, unforgiving. It was the kind of rage that came with the loss of something precious. And Sam, sweet Sam—his conflicted, sorrowful gaze had been the worst of all. She could almost hear his voice, trembling with the desperate hope that maybe he could fix her. But she knew better now.
She was beyond saving. She had not even wanted to save herself, she had been wholly ready to die, to let Damon’s blood dwindle from her system, till her death caught up with her once more.
A familiar ache of longing twisted in her chest as she thought of them. The brothers who had raised her, fought for her, loved her in ways that no one else ever had. The brothers who were now lost to her forever. How could she go back to them now, knowing the truth of what she was? How could she let them see her like this? They would hate me, she thought. They already do.
She imagined the look on Dean’s face as he looked at her—disgust. His words were harsher than the coldest winter she had known, biting at her soul. He would see the vampire she had become and reject the parts of his little sister that remained.
Nothing, she thought. He would see nothing left of me.
And yet, she would miss them more than anything. She would miss the way Dean always teased her, even when he was angry. She would miss Sam’s soft smiles, the way he would always try to protect her, even when she did not need it. She would miss being family—the thing that had once meant everything to her. It had all slipped away, and in its place was this hollow, aching void.
But she knew deep down, past her surfaced dejections, there was no void. Her love for Damon had settled into every crevice of her being, and with all her regret came a guilty, unexpected sense of relief; she was glad she had forever, an eternity to love him. He was her family now, and she could not find it within herself to regret this.
Behind her was the sound of soft footsteps. The familiar, grounding presence of Damon. She did not need to turn around to know it was him; she had grown so used to the weight of his presence, the subtle way he filled the silence between them. When had this happened? It all felt so quick.
He did not speak. Instead, she felt his warmth press against her back, his arms sliding around her waist, pulling her against him. His head found its way into the space between her shoulder and neck, and she instinctively leaned into him, the comfort of his touch a stark contrast to the cold emptiness of her loss.
For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself absorb the silence, the feeling of being held. But the ache inside her did not fade. It only deepened. Her brothers were gone—the life she knew was gone—and all she had left was the man who had turned her into this being.
And she could not even bring herself to regret it. She loved Damon; she loved the way he made her feel, even when it terrified her.
She stood there, motionless, with Damon’s arms around her, staring ahead at nothing. She mourned the girl she had been, but when she thought of what she had gained—when she felt the weight of Damon’s arms around her—she knew she would not trade any of it.
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