☼.‎ ‎ 𝕾acrifice... ‎ self-s͟l͟a͟u͟g͟h͟t͟e͟r?

Nothing but vulnerable.   And all this is metaphor.   An ordinary hand — just lonely for something to touch that touches back.

[becomesun]

♡.   You can't help but become the sun.   —   An independent original character,   written by Ellie.   ‎

[becomesun]

klaustay @ the mikaelson ball

[becomesun]

everybody dead fr

[becomesun]

well.

[becomesun]

tumblr won’t let me unage restrict this blog. this is a sign

[margotrobie]

MARGOT ROBBIE as BARBIE Barbie | Dir. Greta Gerwig

[becomesun]

happy mother’s day to tay, my fav fictional milf ❤️

[becomesun]

until i get over my hybrid tay brainrot, i will be elsewhere. ask for my discord or whatever.

[becomesun]

What colour does your love feel like? — Deep staining red.

Ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. Your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. It's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep.

It rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. Sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. Your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back.

And you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. Atlas holding up the world, how are you? Is your love still flowing? Is your heart still open? Still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? Still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink?

Because I see them, I read them, I love them and you, you, you, you. Clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. Spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. Make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. Maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.

Tagged by: @imbalanceofpower x Tagging: steal it <3

[becomesun]

tay's day time perfume is alien goddess by mugler and her night time perfume is alien, also by mugler 🫶

[fatherhaunted]

He would say ‘nice to meet you’, but he’s not sure how much truth that would hold.

“Well, ya ain’t exactly subtle.” Dean throws a sideways nod at the limp, headless body discarded on the concrete like dirty laundry. “Goin’ around small towns, droppin’ bodies. You were practically Gretel leavin’ me crumbs.”

A pause.

“You new?”

[becomesun]

Perhaps she'd been slightly too cocky. And perhaps it had been her fault— she'd abandoned all her principles along the way somewhere. She ought to pick those back up at some point, before going back to New York ideally.

Though, in all fairness— "the last few were on purpose." Tay won't accept being discredited, and is confident she'd still be alive should she not have realised until he went to strike.

"And yes," she lies, nods to drive the point. "I'm still getting used to everything. I know you won't understand."

[nikulaus]

Tapping his fingertips on the table, Klaus watches her unimpressed. His eyes flicker to the empty glass momentarily, now positioned as if he’d been the one to finish it.

“Do you now?” he asks offhandedly, demanding the barmaid’s attention with two fingers. He thinks he hears her scoff yet she still comes over with a new drink for him, albeit with a side of non-verbal attitude.

It seems that Tay is right: this is not a prestigious enough establishment for him. She’s not the only one who thinks so, either.

“Do elaborate.”

[becomesun]

Tay's lips curve into a smirk. Borrowing his drink is the least she can do after having so little effect on him. Despite the fact he's less than pleased with her, she watches him. And then she has to suppress a groan.

She's almost tempted to apologise to her. Instead, she settles for a much kinder I'll take one too. It would be rude to wait until she's back behind the bar. Clearly less bothered than she'd anticipated, her eyes quickly flit back to him.

"Well," Tay clears her throat. "Uh— if we use the same point, I promise there are still a lot of men who like to participate."

With her drink arriving, Tay quietens and thanks the barmaid with a smile. After a sip— which doesn't taste as nice out of a glass that isn't his— she continues, teasingly.

"Unfortunately, you're not special."

[nikulaus]

Klaus throws her a look one might misinterpret as flattered, but he does appreciate the sentiment and the motivation behind it. While both of his hybrids are equally desperate for his favor, Tay seems a lot more eager to shed blood in his name. It makes him wonder if Dillan’s reservations stem from uncertainty or guilt, so he decides to find out.

“I’d rather hear what Dillan has to say.”

Dillan perks up at the mention of his name and, clearly unprepared, lets out a prolonged ‘uhhhhhh’. “I guess just, well—uh,” he stammers. But before he can manage to embarrass himself further, he changes the focus: “Are we fighting dirty or fair?”

“What would you pick?”

“Fair. Wolves are honorable.” His eyes flicker between Klaus and Tay as the seconds stretch. “So I’ve heard. So… break a bone? Or all of them.”

[becomesun]

Much alike earlier, Tay finds herself sinking into her seat. She bites her tongue. A small part of her is curious as to what Dillan has to say. The larger part had hoped Klaus would have divulged his fantasy. She'll try again later, when they're alone and his only other option is leaving.

She still chimes in, however. "All of them?" Tay jokes. Humour aside, it might be the first time since he'd closed the car door she's agreed with him.

"Wait for the broken ones to heal and then repeat it? If there are others watching, they might offer themselves to Klaus to make it stop."

With the slightest hint of poignancy, she says, "I probably would."

[fatherhaunted]

“We don’t talk about Fight Club, huh?” Dean’s eyes flit to her feet. This time he forces himself to stay put when she inches forward.

He’s curious. Whatever nest, or however she wants to call it, she’s part of feels bigger than she lets on. But to get to the bottom of that, he has to get to the bottom of her. He’s not gonna do that if he’s not prepared.

“Dean,” he answers freely. “What’s yours?” Can’t keep calling her bloodsucker in his head.

[becomesun]

"Tay."

She thinks about offering her hand for him to shake, only to see him recoil in horror. Ultimately, she decides it would diminish the little progress he had made. He hasn't moved just yet.

"So, Dean— when did you figure out I was a," and with it still being much too soon for full honesty, "vampire?"

[nikulaus]

Three hours after midnight, the roadhouse is quiet. Only a few patrons remain, already buzzed by a drink, as well as the barmaid who is dutifully collecting empty glasses from the bartop and she wiping it down.

Perched on a chair with his feet atop the table and a whiskey in hand, Klaus watches his hybrid’s prelude to yet another show meant to inspire his jealousy. Though she must have been hoping for a reaction, all she gets is an unblinking stare.

He leaves his drink on the table after taking a long sip, disregarding Tay’s approach, but she commands his attention when she swipes it.

“Contrary to most men nowadays, I take more pleasure in participating,” Klaus replies. Good thing he’d compelled the barmaid to turn a blind eye to their indiscretions; otherwise there would be more than the obnoxious clinking of the glasses she is putting away. “Then again, this is hardly my crowd.”

His gaze settles on Tay, nonchalant. “My drink. Please.”

[becomesun]

Tay had aspired for more of a reaction— or a reaction at all. She was unlucky this time, likely unlucky the next time. One day, she hopes that he'll let her win. But, she won't allow for her disappointment to show— nobody likes a sore loser.

"No," she agrees. "It's not prestigious enough for you." Neither is she. That, she won't dwell on. Tay meets his gaze. And instead of handing his drink to him as asked, she finishes it. She, again, doesn't break eye contact until she's sliding him the empty glass.

As though it would be enough of a distraction, she backtracks to his earlier point. Plainly, "and I think I know more about most men."

[fatherhaunted]

Confusion riddles Dean’s features, his forehead creasing the more she speaks. He’d think she was toying with him, but he’s seen enough monster shticks to know when one of them is being genuine.

Still, he takes a step backward when she takes one forward. It’s instinct. Besides, she’s got an exsanguinated body at her feet. She can’t blame him for being distrustful.

“Freaky vampire dungeon,” he says pointedly. “Who’s we?”

[becomesun]

Not a vampire, she thinks. But that would be too much, and far too soon. Evidently, she's not the first he's tried to kill— Tay's also sure she won't be the last. He might have to rethink his methods, however. It seems she continues to catch him by surprise.

"I can't tell you that."

She takes a step forward again, hands splayed and palms facing him in mock surrender. "I have a question." Only fair, after all. She doesn't wait for permission to ask. "What's your name?"

[fatherhaunted]

Dean gulps at the mention of his stealth—or lack thereof. He’d been defenseless this entire time. Suddenly, the machete isn’t offering as much comfort, so he lowers it. If Dad knew… No, he can’t think about Dad right now.

“So, what? You’re baitin’ me? Lurin’ me to a location so your nest can swarm me?”

The thought unsettles him. Dean takes a cautious step sideways, eyes on the vampire, brows furrowed. He tries to keep his humor with a click of his tongue. “Gotta say, not super creative.”

[becomesun]

The verbal jab hardly stings, not when she's much too busy trying to minimise the confusion contorting her features. Nest? They're far from a flock of birds.

"I don't have a nest." She takes a step forwards. With her eyebrows still knitted together, Tay hardly looks like a threat. "We aren't a nest." Perhaps she's divulging too much information, but she'd much prefer he drop his offence.

"What's a nest?"