The ships I don't enjoy well I wouldn't say I don't enjoy them I don't appreciate them or I can't see how they work.
1. Is Elijah and Camille it doesn't make any sense. Sure, he respected how head strong she was, and her ability to help Klaus change, but there was no chemistry he was literally in love with haley!and he didn't get over her even when she died.
2. Klaus and Elena, I don't understand at all at first. I was like, maybe, but then when you plug in the factors, it just doesn't make sense that their personality's don't compliment each other and even if they did there relationship woukd be horrible way to toxic for my taste and the fact he ruined her life killed her aunt his whole family cused her trouble I'm just like nah never mind.
3. Stefan and Caroline, their relationship was to rush on the show to me it felt like it came out for nowhere, and around the time caroline was going through a lot,stefan was going back and forth it just felt like it it was based in comfort of having someone than actually built on effort love and trust then they got married for some reason! And then he died it was a love hsort lived at this point she would have been better off with Klaus.
Rare pairs! These are my favorite love a lot ❤️ but I'm going to the top four... OK, I'm going to list them all.
1. Kol and Bonnie, this was my first favorite rarepair! I always love it they match each other's energy. Kol was twitching once he loved the company of witches. I feel like he would show Bonnie the full level of her power and help her realize how to love herself eventually, and of course, Bonnie would reject him, I just really love them
2. Kai and Rebekah, there's love would be so crazy! breaking up every five minutes, trying to kill each other every five seconds. But they both would deeply love each other, and Kai would be obsessed, and Rebekah would love it! I wish people had written it more.
3. Freya and Enzo can be grumpy, but they are my sunshine and my sweetheart. I love how their relationship functions: he is a free spirit always seeking fun, while she is more serious, and I am there to handle the practicalities. However, he's the only one who can make her relax about their dynamic. It's just so fun!
4. Carmey, they are literally a teenage dream, referencing this from @velvetfangsx's fic about them. You should definitely read! They're just like the loner boy, and she is the popular teenager, but they both have cracks in their lives that they find comfort in each other. It's just so sweet and makes me giggle.
These are my top four!
I criticize all the ships I like, even the ones I don't like, because I like to see how they work where they would fall short, etc.. it's just really
This was a great ask. I love it! Thank you so much 💓
Feel free to ask for anything else, but I don't really use this blog anymore. My new blog is @belladonnaslove. It's not your fault shoʻuld have specified 🥰😘🤗😄
Hi everyone, I received an ask and an idea from @velvetfangsx , craft a captivating scene of Camille and Klaus sharing a proper date canon and heartfelt. I've never written canon before, so I hope it’s compelling. I initially thought of placing it before Camille’s death, but it felt too dull and drab, and I couldn't stomach rewatching her final moments; it still frustrates me. So, I chose to set it in season 1. Their dynamic in this scene is electric; it rekindles my love for their relationship. Klaus realizing Camille's sharp tongue and her unyielding spirit cracks me up it's such a thrill to see him finally understand her.
So I'm putting it between Season 1, Episode 5-6, around that time, I think I have it right.
Something Ordinary
“You didn’t say where we were going,” she says, keeping pace with Klaus as they walk through the Quarter, the night unusually calm.
“I said to dress nicely,” he replies lightly. “You did.”
She snorts. “That’s not an answer.”
Klaus glances at her, lips curling into something almost soft. “Must I announce my intentions now? Is that the expectation?”
“Yes,” Camille says. “When your intentions tend to involve daggers.”
They stop in front of a small jazz bar, its lights dim, and the door is already unlocked.
Camille frowns. “Did you compel everyone inside?”
Klaus scoffs. “Please. I had Marcel close it for the evening. This city owes me favors.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Yet you’re still here.”
She is and that realization settles between them, quiet but undeniable.
Inside, the music is low—one table. Two glasses are already set.
Camille folds her arms. “This feels like a date.”
Klaus stiffens just enough for her to notice.
“It is merely dinner,” he says.
“And the wine?”
“A necessity.”
“And the fact that you didn’t bring bodyguards?”
Klaus meets her stare. “An experiment.”
Camille studies him, this ancient monster who looks, for once, uncertain, and takes the seat across from him.
“Well,” she says softly, “for what it’s worth… I’m glad you tried.”
He doesn’t smile.
But he does pour her wine with steady hands.
Klaus sets the bottle down.
“For tonight,” he says, “I thought you deserved a break. From all of it. The witches. Politics. The… compulsion.”
Camille takes a slow sip, eyes never leaving his.
“And your compulsion…?”
Before he can answer, she leans back. “Let’s play a game,” she says. “Twenty‑one questions. You answer honestly.”
Klaus raises a brow. “And what makes you think I’ll indulge this?”
“You brought me to a private jazz bar,” she says. “You’re already indulging me.”
He gestures. “Very well. Ask.”
Camille crosses her legs, thoughtful.
“First question,” she begins. “Vampires. What’s the one thing humans always get wrong about you?”
Klaus doesn’t hesitate.
“That we are ruled entirely by hunger,” he says. “In truth, we are ruled by instinct. Hunger is merely the loudest of them.”
Camille nods slowly, absorbing that.
“Okay,” she says. “Second question. Werewolves. What’s the real difference between them and vampires? Not the folklore version — the truth.”
Klaus’s expression shifts, something ancient flickering behind his eyes.
“Werewolves are creatures of the earth,” he says. “Raw, untamed, bound to the moon’s cycle. Vampires are creatures of will. We choose our nature every moment. They… surrender to theirs.”
Camille’s brows lift. “That almost sounded respectful.”
“It was,” he admits.
She takes another sip of wine, gaze steady.
“Third question,” she says. “Witches. What’s the thing you fear most about them?”
Klaus’s fingers tap once against the table — the only sign of discomfort.
“Their power,” he says quietly. “Not because it is greater than mine… but because it is the one thing I cannot predict.”
Camille studies him, surprised by the honesty.
“You’re doing better at this than I expected,” she murmurs.
Klaus smirks. “You underestimate my willingness to impress you.”
Camille rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at her mouth.
“Alright. Fourth question.”
He gestures for her to continue, settling back in his chair like he’s preparing for a challenge.
“Hybrids,” she says. “What’s the part no one understands? The thing that makes you… different.”
“That I am not half of anything,” he says. “I am the sum of two curses. And the freedom of neither.”
Camille absorbs that, her gaze softening just a fraction. “Fifth question,” she says gently. “What’s the one thing you miss about being human?”
Klaus looks away just enough to show the truth costs him something.
“Silence,” he says. “The kind that comes from not hearing every heartbeat in the room.”
Camille’s breath catches, but she doesn’t push.
She just nods, thoughtful.
“Okay,” she murmurs. “Last one from me. For now.”
Klaus arches a brow. “Only six? I expected more.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says. “I’m pacing myself.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. Camille leans forward, elbows on the table.
“Witches, vampires, werewolves… all of that I can wrap my head around. But you?”
She tilts her head. “What’s the one thing you want people to understand about you, but they never do?”
Klaus is still the kind of stillness that means she’s hit something real.
“That I am not beyond redemption,” he says quietly. “Merely… unaccustomed to it.”
Camille’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t say anything.
She lets the truth sit between them, warm and fragile.
Klaus clears his throat, straightening.
“My turn.”
Camille blinks. “Oh? We’re switching sides now?”
“You’ve interrogated me enough for one evening,” he says. “Fair is fair.”
She lifts her glass. “Alright then. Ask.”
Klaus studies her for a long moment, eyes sharp. “First question,” he says. “Why didn’t you run from me the night we met?”
Camille’s lips part not in fear, but in surprise.
He leans in slightly, voice low. “And do not lie. I’ll know.”
Camille doesn’t look away.
If anything, she sits a little straighter, like she’s decided she won’t let him turn this into something she hides from.
“Why didn’t I run?” She repeats softly. She lets out a slow breath, fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
“Because you didn’t scare me,” she says. “Not the way you expected to.”
Klaus’s eyes are narrow and intrigued. Camille continues, steady and calm:
“You were dangerous, sure. Intense. Unpredictable. But you weren’t… empty. You weren’t cruel for the sake of it. You were angry, and lonely, and trying very hard to pretend you weren’t either of those things.”
Her voice softens, but she doesn’t look away.
“And I’ve met people like that before. Human people. People who push everyone away because they’re terrified of being seen.”
Klaus’s jaw tightens the smallest tell.
Camille leans in just a little.
“So no,” she says. “I didn’t run. Because I wasn’t looking at a monster. I was looking at someone who didn’t know what to do with someone who actually saw him.”
The silence that follows is warm, heavy, and full of everything he doesn’t know how to say.
Klaus’s fingers curl once against the table.
“My turn again.”
The music shifts into something slower, warmer, the kind of melody that fills the empty bar like a heartbeat.
Camille rises first. “Come on,” she says softly. “If you’re going to interrogate me, you can at least do it while we’re moving.”
Klaus stands, almost reluctantly, and takes her hand.
His touch is warm, steady too steady for a man who looks like he’s unraveling.
They step into the open space, bodies close, the air between them charged.
Camille rests her h d on his shoulder; Klaus’s hand settles at her waist, fingers splaying just slightly, like he’s memorizing the shape of her.
They sway.
Slow.
Careful.
Too careful.
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” she murmurs.
Klaus’s voice is low. “Pretend what?”
“That you don’t care.”
His breath catches barely and Camille sees it.
She sees all of it.
Before he can retreat behind that ancient armor, she rises onto her toes and kisses him.
It’s soft at first warm, searching but Klaus answers instantly, like he’s been holding his breath for centuries. His hand slides to the back of her neck, pulli her closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger he tries and fails to hide.
Camille’s fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him even closer.
Klaus responds without thinking, his other hand settling at her waist, drawing her against him until there’s barely space between them.
The kiss grows deeper still soft, still tender, but threaded with something fierce, something starved.
Klaus kisses her like he’s afraid to want this and unable not to.
Camille breaks the kiss only long enough to breathe, her forehead resting against his.
“Klaus…” she whispers, voice unsteady.
He kisses her again slower this time, almost reverent like he’s trying to memorize the shape of her mouth, the warmth of her breath, the way she leans into him without fear.
Her hands slide up to his shoulders, then to his jaw, guiding him back down into another kiss.
He lets her.
He follows her.
He loses himself in her for one suspended moment.
And then
Klaus pulls back.
Not far.
Just enough.
His breathing is uneven.
His eyes are darker, softer, terrified.
Camille searches his face. “Then why do you keep pulling away from me?”
Klaus swallows hard, voice rough. “Because I must.”
“Why?” she pushes, stepping closer again. “Why won’t you let me in?”
He backs up a single step not from fear, but from restraint so tight it looks painful.
“Camille…” His voice cracks. “If I let myself— if I let you—”
She closes the distance, hands on his chest, grounding him.
“Klaus. Look at me.” He does. And that’s what breaks him.
Klaus steps back, tortured.
He grabs her gently by the arms
“Because if I let you in,” he says, voice breaking, “you become a weakness. Something my enemies will exploit. And I cannot let that ha en to you.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I do,” he whispers, “when the cost is your life.”
Her eyes shine with hurt.
“Klaus”
“I’m sorry, Camille.”
His gaze softens unbearably sad.
“Forget tonight,” he murmurs. “Forget the dance. Forget the kiss. Go home. Safe.”
Her expression flickers confusion, resistance then fades as the compulsion settles.
Camille turns and walks out into the quiet New Orleans night.
Klaus watches her go, alone in the empty bar, the music still playing, the wine still poured, the ghost of her touch still on his hands.
And he looks like a man who has just broken his own heart.
I love them all, but the most that intrigues me is digital Era and martial statue. I would love to see snippets of these! 🥰🤩😊
Wip file name game
Digital era: I wanted to do a series of these because Kol navigating a phone is literally the funniest thing I can imagine, and Bonnie having to deal with him is just... a lot. Honestly, this snippet is basically as long as the actual fic lot.
Snippet:
Kol: Bonnie, I’ve had a revelation.
Bonnie: Is it about the "little man" in the GIF again? Because I’m in class, Kol.
Kol: No. I’ve discovered "Voice-to-Text." It’s like having a very tiny, very literal scribe living inside my pocket.
Kol: [Voice Message: 0:04]
(Sound of wind and a distant, muffled shout from Klaus: "KOL, GET OFF THAT RIDICULOUS THING!")
"Tell the witch I’ve found a way to talk to her without moving my thumbs. It’s revolutionary, Bonnie. Truly."
Bonnie: I can hear your brother yelling in the background. And I can hear you smugly smirking.
Kol: [Voice Message: 0:02]
"You can hear a smirk? You really are powerful, darling."
Bonnie: It’s a very specific sound. It sounds like trouble and a waste of my data plan.
Kol: I’ll have you know I am currently using the "Wi-Fi" of a very lovely, very unsuspecting café.
Kol: I’m sending you a picture of a pastry. It looks like a cloud. I shall name it after your temperament.
Bonnie: A cloud? So, soft and peaceful?
Kol: No. Dark, stormy, and likely to strike me with lightning if I don't stop messaging you.
Bonnie: At least you’re self-aware. ⚡
Kol: It’s my best quality. Right after my devastating charm.
Marital statue: this is like a romantic Freyenzo married au
The air in the new hallway was thick with the scent of floor wax, permanent markers, and the distinct, looming threat of a Mikaelson family intervention.
Freya stood in the center of the living room, clutching a clipboard like a shield. She looked radiant, if slightly frazzled, with her hair pulled back and a smudge of dust on her cheek that Enzo desperately wanted to kiss off.
"Klaus, please put the mahogany dresser down *slowly*," Freya directed, her voice hitting that perfect pitch of 'newlywed bliss' mixed with 'I will end you.' "It survived the eighteenth century; I’d like it to survive Tuesday."
Enzo leaned against the doorframe, looking entirely too relaxed for a man whose brothers-in-law looked like they were measuring him for a coffin instead of a new house. He caught Freya’s eye and winked, popping the tab on a lukewarm soda.
"You heard the lady, mate," Enzo chirped, his grin widening when Klaus glared at him over the top of the antique wood. "Pivot. Use your core. Don’t want you throwing out your back before we’ve even had the housewarming."
"If I drop this, Lorenzo," Klaus growled, his face turning a vibrant shade of red, "it will be on your foot. By accident, of course."
"Ignore him, darling," Enzo said, pushing off the wall to weave through the labyrinth of boxes toward his wife. He came up behind her, his hands sliding naturally onto her waist, pulling her back against his chest. "He’s just cranky because Elijah is currently organizing the spice rack by alphabetical order and geographical origin."
Freya sighed, leaning her head back against his shoulder, the tension leaving her shoulders for a brief second. "He’s doing what?"
"It’s true," Kol shouted from the other room, followed by the sound of something shattering. "And tell your husband to stop smugly vibrating! Some of us are actually working!"
Enzo chuckled, his breath warm against Freya's ear. "I'm not vibrating, I'm basking. Do you realize this is the first time in three hours I haven't been asked to justify my intentions toward you? I think the marriage license finally acted as a legal muzzle."
"Don't count on it," Freya whispered, turning in his arms and looping her hands around his neck. The clipboard was now trapped between them, a literal barrier to his chest. "My family doesn't care about licenses. They care about who’s going to carry the sofa up the stairs."
"Well," Enzo murmured, his eyes dropping to her lips, "if we stay in this corner long enough, maybe they'll finish the heavy lifting themselves. A sort of... wedding gift."
"You are a terrible influence," she teased, though she didn't pull away.
"I'm your *husband*," he corrected, the word still sounding brand new and dangerously sweet. "It’s practically in the job description."
“I talked to them because they listened. I held onto them because they helped me survive.”
Me: I feel like I want to do this, but what if they're right? Maybe I'll fail.
Lorenzo St John: Don't give your loyalty to anyone who doesn't deserve it. First, start by being loyal to yourself.
Me: I can't do this. I'm not confident enough it's not perfect!
Caroline Forbes: Yes, you are! Not everything has to be perfect it just has to be you.
Me: I feel sad. Is it wrong to feel sad?
Elena Gilbert: It's not wrong to feel how you feel and to fight for it.
Me: I'm tired. I can't keep doing this. I'm not strong.
Bonnie Bennet: I know it's hard, and I know it's painful, but don't you dare say you can't keep going because you're stronger than you know.
Me: I'm scared. I feel like I'm losing control!
Stefan Salvatore: Don't be scared. Don't push it down. Talk to it. You can fight it!
Me: Why should I give a damn? Nobody gave a damn when it was me.
Damon Salvatore: It's not fair. I agree, but if you keep thinking that way, then you'll push away the people who actually do care, don't make the same mistake I did.
Me: He's gone; he left me here all alone. It feels impossible to move on and keep going.
Jeremy Gilbert: Hey, it's going to be okay. This won't last forever. If I can do it, then you can, too.
Me: They won't leave me alone. What's so wrong with me?
Kai Parker: There's nothing wrong with you their just small-minded and threatened by anything different, but that difference will allow you to rise to the top.
Me: I always feel left out.
Kol: Screw em! Will go have our own fun.
Me: I can't let people in they always leave, and they always hurt me.
Klaus Michealson: Don't close your heart because when you open it wide enough, you'll find the right person.
Me: Are you talking about Camille?
Klaus: I'm not answering that question
Me: oooooh!
Klaus: Shut up!
Me: I used to believe that everyone is good deep down now it seems childish and absurd.
Camille: There's good in everyone, and they just need someone to believe in them.
Me: Like klaus
Camille: Please be quiet
You can't say these characters aren't real because they're real to me🥰
I won’t be writing full fics for a while, so anything ongoing or “coming soon” is discontinued for now. I’m not in the best mental space, but it’s temporary.
I’ll still post small stuff like the Mikaelson Girlfriend Support Group, the Daily Grill, and random snippets.
Thank you for supporting my writing and finding joy in it. It really does mean everything.
But I would shout out to the people whose posts I love and enjoy and help me keep going! @velvetfangsx @shadowlight-22 @bourbon-girl14 @thebennettdiaries @krissybehind @klamilleforever3 @icarusofathousanddays and many more🥰😍😘🤩
Elena woke up that morning to Damon; he was literally right in her face.
“Morning Gilbert”
She shoved him off the bed “Damon! What the hell!?”
Damon sighed “What I needed was somewhere to sleep, and the couch wasn't doing the trick ... .Since you're awake, I figure you wouldn't mind throwing me the cover”.
Elena placed her head in her hands “You're unbelievable” She muttered under her breath.
She didn't feel like dealing with Damon's well-being Damon, so she decided to wash away his filth in the shower.
She grabbed a fresh pair of clothes and headed toward the bathroom. The one place he wouldn't infiltrate “I'm taking a shower. I want you gone by the time I get out”
Damon mocked her with a salute “Yes ma’am”
Elena rolled her eyes and went to the bathroom she noticed Damon was following her “Where do you think you're going?”
He smiled a dirty smile “I was just thinking it wouldn't be such a waste of water if we both went in”
“Nice try but no”
Damon threw his hands up “If you don't care about saving the planet then…”
“Out!”
Damon went downstairs, and while he was down, he noticed a piece of paper crumpled on the counter, and he started to throw it around.
“I wonder where Bonnie is I need someone to bother”
Elena came down in a rush with an expression of worry on her face “Bonnie hasn't responded to a single text I sent her last night”
Damon stopped throwing the paper around “Thats weird, isn't she supposed to be the reliable one”
Elena snatched the paper from him and shoved it in her pocket. “This is serious, Damon. I'm really worried” She pulled out her phone “I'm going to text Care. You should probably let Stefan know he'll know what to do”
Damon Scoffed “You know he's not the white knight he paints himself to be”
“Damon… now is not the time for this bonnie is missing” Elena didn't even turn around she didn't want to face him or the truth.
Before the conversation could continue any further, Caroline burst through the door she immediately noticed the cold vibe in the room.
“What happened?”
Elena cleared her throat “Nothing worth discussing” Damon felt a jolt of pain from those words “Did you find Bonnie?”
“Not exactly” Caroline pulled out her phone and played a video that was sent from Bonnie's phone, but it wasn't her who sent it.
Damon grabbed the phone to get a closer look “Is that-”
“Kol” Elena finished his sentence with fury; he had sent a video of Bonnie tied up in the back of the trunk requesting that they and his brother leave him alone in exchange for Bonnie and the daggers.
“We set a meeting with Klaus to tell his brother to back off! ”
Stefan walked in, but his presence felt unpleasant “Klaus wants to have a chat apparently”
Caroline was practically shaking “Looks like we don't have to”
Back at the hotel, Bonnie woke, feeling dizzy and sick to her stomach she held her head, and it felt like the whole room was spinning.
“It's just a side effect, it'll wear off eventually” Kol was sitting on a chair with the daggers in one hand and a strange object in the other Bonnie could feel the dark magic emanating from it.
Bonnie tried to get out of bed and make it to the door, but she fell instantly “What did you do to me!?”
Kol got up and circled her “You know, I thought we were hitting it off, but then you had to go and ruin it by backstabbing me”
“Backstab you?” Bonnie let out a weak laugh “You're delusional! You kidnapped me”
Kol laughed, but it was cold and short.
“Oh come on, love. You sent a message to your little friends. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you for that,” he said casually, like he was talking about the weather.
Bonnie glared at him from the floor. “You’re not going to kill me.”
Kol crouched down to her level, eyes sharp. “And why’s that?”
“Because you need me,” she said, voice steady despite the dizziness. “And you’re too scared to admit it.”
Kol’s jaw tightened.
Just for a second.
Then he stood up and walked away from her like the conversation bored him.
“Get up,” he said. “We’re leaving.”
Bonnie pushed herself upright, still dizzy, still furious. “You did something to me.”
Kol didn’t deny it. He slung the bag over his shoulder — the same bag she’d seen him guarding like it was a newborn.
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what was in there. The daggers.”
Kol froze for half a second.
Just long enough to confirm she was right.
Bonnie let out a humorless laugh. “Unbelievable. You kidnapped me, drugged me with whatever that thing is—” she pointed at the dark object on the chair, “—and you’re dragging me across the state with Klaus’ murder kit.”
Kol rolled his eyes. “It’s not a murder kit. It’s a… preventative measure.”
“You mean you stole the only things that can stop your family from killing each other?”
Kol didn’t answer.
Which was an answer.
Bonnie steadied herself on the wall. “So the dizziness? The magic drain? That was you.”
Kol shrugged like it was nothing. “I needed you not to try anything stupid.”
“Stupid like escaping?”
“Exactly.”
Bonnie glared at him. “You could’ve just asked.”
Kol scoffed. “You would’ve said no.”
She hated that he was right.
He moved toward the door. “Come on. We need to get ahead of your friends before they find us.”
Bonnie blinked. “My friends?”
Kol gave her a look. “You think I didn’t feel your little spell? They’re coming. And Klaus is with them.”
Bonnie’s stomach dropped. “Klaus?”
Kol nodded once. “And trust me, love — you don’t want to be here when he catches up.”
Bonnie swallowed hard.
Her magic was still weak.
Her head still spinning.
And Kol — annoyingly, infuriatingly — was the only thing keeping her upright.
She grabbed the doorframe, steadying herself. “Fine. But you’re telling me everything. No more secrets.”
Kol smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
Bonnie shot him a look. “That’s not good enough.”
Kol opened the door anyway. “It’s all you’re getting.”
They stepped outside into the morning air — Bonnie still weak, Kol still tense — and the chase truly began.
