This Is What Klaroshit Shippers Wanted Them To Be, This Is So Good And Cute

This is what klaroshit shippers wanted them to be, this is so good and cute 😭❤️

Fuck the Scooby Doo gang tho

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

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I officially became Odahviing's simp when the first thing he did after I trapped him on that bdsm trap on Dragonsreach was mock me for not having tHe dovah spEecH

The little mermaid who

Waves Crashing Down — a Klaus Mikaelson Fanfiction. Part One: Introduction

Summary: A gorgeous, lethal siren watches Klaus pace around New Orleans’ beach. Curious of his power and beauty, she seeks him out.

Author's Note: I want it to be known that in terms of my characters’ appearances, I like to describe bodies like mine as there is very little rep. I’m very buxom, and I’m going to describe my characters the same way. Please do keep in mind the mention of buxom characters is not inherently sexual. Having large breasts, being a tad bit chubby, or rather, whatever you look like does not make you an object. All bodies are beautiful, and you can think of these characters whichever way you like. Thank you.

Enjoy,

Ginger Xx

In the beginning, you believed that we were mere birds, flying free in the sky with the face of a beautiful woman, our song taking hostage of the air, elevating your spirits and pulling you into your demise. You claimed that Odysseus had his sailors tie himself to a post so that he could stand awake and listen to our callings as if cheating death was ever that easy. You claimed that the source of who we are was by your God’s mighty hand. This we find interesting. You know you cannot escape the vibrations, the sounds of hungry divinity, not even Yahweh. We were always so hungry, so hungry for gentle violence and the cold, bitter taste of your flesh, be it a simple, unproblematic man, or be it your God.

Over time, your accuracy seemed to mature. You discovered that we were sea creatures, lurking in the darkest corners of the ocean, awaiting you, always ready to open up our deathless mouths and let death lure you into our cruel arms because we are hungry.

Do not mistake this as an acceptance of your perception, the image of us you harbour. But do believe that we see how gorgeous you look when the life is leaving your sweet eyes, your bodies half-empty and gentle, your clutch on us desperate, needy, your minds turbulent. It takes us to heaven and back each and every time.

And when the song comes to a close and you are gone, we recline in the sea or on the shoreline for just a little while until our fingertips twitch with hot desire all over again. Call it our duty. Call it evil — we don’t care. We desire consumption, and you are always needy to be consumed, even the most powerful of you… even most he who believes he is above the gorgeous and brutal song of the siren.

New Orleans 2010s…

Ivy rose her head a little above the water, her nose still breathing in the sea. The sound of the sand being pushed down as a man strolled across the beach near the shore had piqued her interest, her hunger, and she recognised him immediately. This was the one they called untouchable, ruthless. The man who couldn’t be killed.

His presence alone was powerful, a testament to his infamous past. She saw that his face was twisted into an expression of anger, his hand at his mouth. He was beautiful, his rage like steam entering the air and threatening it without him having to say a word — his energy alone commanded that around him. His hair was golden underneath the glow of the evening sun, and his attire was entirely noir, which only put more of an emphasis on his soft features. His rosey cheeks, his plump lips, his mean blue eyes — Ivy was struck. She narrowed her eyes, squinting them a little bit as he walked further along the New Orleans beach.

She watched him pass, her head turning in line with his walking until eventually, he had left the beach, a phone to his ear yelling about some deal. His roar was monstrous, his hand shooting at the sky in rage. Ivy’s eyebrows tugged together. What would he taste like?

Her attention shifted when she could sense another man — this one not strong and not angry — heading for the shore. Ivy’s lips parted and then breathed out the opening notes to her calling.

Every siren had a unique voice to match their differing personalities. They had a different technique to taking their victims. Some would sing in a sweet, high voice, the sound of youthful innocence seeping into the victims mind, enchanting them and stirring a desire to control who the voice belonged to before the siren flipped the script. Others would sing in a husky, low tone, the voice stirring the sailor into an almost conscious submission. And the rest were varying shades of danger in between.

Ivy loved the lethality of ambiguity; of singing in a both rich and husky song in a very high key, of making it impossible to know whether she was dominant or submissive. Seducing the man was pathetically easy. She loved possessing big blue doe eyes that could transform at any moment with pretty, plump lips that could pull into a devilish grin. In this, she could adapt to each individual victim, become who she needed to become in order for the killing to be most satisfactory.

As the man, locked in a trance, neared closer and closer to the sea, Ivy climbed onto a rock, flipping back her long, thick ginger hair as she rose from the water. Her song intensified, upping the key even higher. Ivy curled her brows up, her doe eyes big and needy as she reached out for the man.

The man climbed onto the rock, soaked in both the water and Ivy’s song. Ivy wrapped her hands around the man, one around his back and the other around his neck.

Sometimes the siren will let a victim kiss her, but this one didn’t possess enough beauty for intimacy, so the killing commenced immediately. Ivy’s grip on the man’s neck tightened, the man gasping for air, looking half terrified and half in love. His arms were at her waist, right above where her black tail began.

The waves were lull as the man in her arms died. She pulled him into the sea, watching the life drain from his eyes intently, innocently, as if it were not her claw around his neck. A small smile carved on her lips before she sunk her teeth into the man, the warmth of his blood coaxing a moan from the siren. His hands dropped off of her waist, and Ivy ravished him until he were mere bones floating in the ocean.

Ivy was sitting on the rocks, brushing her hair with a golden fork she found. She was watching the empty beach, bathing in the summer moonlight. The moon coaxed a glimmer on her black tail, as well as the pearl-coloured large shells on her chest that held her breasts. Her hair was almost dry, settling in its loose curls. Her mind was lull as it contemplated no violence, her body desiring nothing as she reclined. She was serene.

“Ivy, whatever are you doing, hm?” asked another siren as she climbed on the rocks next to Ivy.

“I’m just sitting, Thana. You have a little blood on your lip.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Thana exclaimed with a giggle before wiping off the blood. “Goodness, I was so hungry. Do you ever leave this rock?”

“Sometimes.”

Sirens are not all evil; they have hearts. However their empathy is only extended to each other and the sea. They form bonds with each other, some even choosing to hunt together, effortlessly doubling the power of the siren, their voices harmonising with each other and augmenting the power of it all. And when it comes to the ocean, they do all in their power to protect it, killing off and throwing out any threats. Thana and Ivy were always very close, though, Ivy preferred to spend most of her time alone. It was simply who she was.

Ivy turned her head to look at her friend. She had black short hair to her shoulders in tight curls, a beautifully soft structured face, very dark skin and a purple tail. The shells on her chest were the same colour.

“It’s cleansing, don’t you think? With all the men we eat, one needs to cleanse herself from time to time. You never know what they get up to before their foot touches the shore.” Ivy said.

Thana was deep in thought for a short time. “You’re very right, Ivy. Everyone knows that man is the most despicable creature.” she finally remarked.

“And yet, the most delicious.”

“Haha! So delicious. Well, I’m off to go for a swim. New Orleans is boring me. Come find me soon, my sweet, yeah?” Thana said as she began making her way off the rock and back into the ocean.

Ivy nodded before going back to watching the beach and brushing her hair, and that’s when she saw him again.

Kinda hypocrite that Klaus constantly complains about Mikael treating him different than his other children because he is not his blood and yet, he treats Marcel, his adopted kid and the one he actually chose, a ten times worse than the way he treats his precious biological daughter

what’s the most unhinged things that’s happened in your dr?

Shifting content 😻

Well, I haven't shifted yet (tho I'm definitely going to) because the only attempt I do at it is go to sleep and hope to wake up in my dr lmao. Which can work btw, but you gotta set the intention to and I don't even do that.

But I'm still gonna take the opportunity to talk about my drs (they're so good even if they're Wattpad coded, I promise 😭) because I love them and I need to get out of this shitty reality as soon as I can.

My main reality (not the one I'm shifting tho rn) is a tvd one, where I'll permashift and I'm basically the daughter of Hecate in that dr aka the reason to make myself as overpowered as possible (yes I made myself more powerful than Hope deal with it, I'm literally a goddess in that reality). Given that is the dr where I'll stay forever, it's the last one I'll shift to. But my s/o is Klaus and I'm having his tribrid child because no child of mine is being born on this rat hole and I literally love Hope. But it's so cool, I created a new family so I don't have to be part of the main families of tvdu and I basically script those siblings in almost every reality.

Btw, if someone shifts to tvd as well, please script Damon doesn't rape Caroline/Andy and that Katherine doesn't rape Stefan either. And script out the racist shit the Mikaelson are always pulling on Marcel as well as Klaus (and any other Mikaelson tbh) treating Marcel like he's family and not making any blood distinction between him and Hope.

My fame dr is practically those siblings I mentioned earlier and characters of the tvdu in a human au. I'm dating Klaus as well in this reality, and I'm basically the most successful actress and singer of the century (I need my main moment leave me alone). Klaus is a successful painter, at the level of Picasso, van Gogh, Dalí, da Vinci etc. Rebekah is the most famous models of Victoria's Secret, Elijah is one of the best lawyers, Kol is a professional magician and Finn and Freya manage a luxurious company. In other ways, they're famous Kardashian level, as well as my family.

Their parents, Dahlia and Henrik are still dead though lmao. Rip

And I scripted out Julie Pl*c, JK R*wling and Rick Riordan as well. And I basically attributed Harry Potter, Percy Jackson and a lot more to a poc woman named Elia Lennox. I changed everything about hp and pjo btw, they're not problematic books in my dr at all and I added a lot of representation, diversity as well as subplots.

And I asked an ai a way to eat meat that doesn't come from animal abuse and scripted it into my dr. Short explanation: scientists grow meat in a controlled environment using animal cells, without the need to raise and slaughter live animals.

But going back to your point, idk. I like to script scenarios I see in tumblr (especially the ones from @klausysworld 🙈), but perhaps is the one where I run over Klaus with my car and throw him off a bridge in my tvd dr. I need that enemies to lovers trope and he's an complete asshole anyway.

Or perhaps the scenario I scripted where the Mikaelson "go poor" for a week and they have to come live at our house and I suddenly have to share my bedroom with Klaus. Dw they get rich again, think about it as if their bank account was suddenly hacked by no reason other than karma. Or perhaps witches, who knows.

Ah, I love my stupid fanfic drs that make absolutely no sense. They're so ❤️💗🌷🌼💛 and ☠️💥💢🕳️💀 at the same time.

I love this fucking fandom 😭

So my partner has a theory…

So we have all seen the photos of Loki’s… gigantic appendage, in Thor 1 before it was removed with the magic of CGI (Gaussian blur go brrrr)

And I told my partner about this and how ridiculous it was that no one said anything before filming and my partner theorises the bulge is so prominent and uhhhh mobile because Loki is not wearing underwear underneath the costumes so the bulge basically has free will to do what it wants.

My partner then proceeded to demonstrate this, a few times actually, and well, I’m convinced.

Loki doesn’t wear underwear.

Side notes:

Yeah my partner gave me permission to discuss this they aren’t ashamed of their body.

Tom is also not ashamed of their body so I can totally see him doing that and being chill about it.

You can see in Ragnarok where the appendage is not totally contained and just flopping about doing it’s thing and nearly taking people’s eyes out.