#bkgrlrandomthoughts

[jonrya]

I freaking love your blog. It pretty much fulfills all my guilty fan girl needs. Why are there no Jon and Arya fanfiction's out there? I need a multi chapter fanfiction of these two. If you have any suggestions please let me know.

Awn, thank you! They are babies. Also, I have a rec list here, and also there’s a tag with some drabbles, too. Hope you enjoy!

[bkgrlrandomthoughts]

It’s not real… whispered through the back of her mind as he touched her.

 Every movement was calculated, so calculated that she could have timed it down to each second that every undulation occurred. Christine had watched him, hiding behind doubled doors, thick tapestries- endless hours in cramped spaces. As an uninvited guest in his room no less than a dozen times she studied him as any hunter would their prey. In dark, cramped spaces she discovered who Nicholas really was; how he seduced, fed and fucked.

 Slow...steady, she thought, regulating her breath and subsequently the rhythm of her pulse with every movement as she had all those times stifled in his room.  

 Nicholas… she longed to call him. Christine knew him as Klaus, as a series of movements, words and touches all leading to the same inevitable end. She felt like in that moment he could have been Nicholas.

 But his name was Klaus….

 The synchrony of it all comforted her; the knowing of what was next. In truth, Christine hated surprises. Nothing unplanned ever turned out the way she wanted.

 Control, it was the essence of what made her tick.

 All she needed to do was focus and not allow her thoughts wander for even the briefest of moments.

 “What do you want?” he whispered, his words dry against her neck, causing her skin to bevel as though she may be foolish enough to let herself shiver.

 What did she want?

 She didn’t know. What should be her appropriate response? There was a litany of reactions she’d memorized and categorized as appropriate of a woman enticed. But none of them were coming to mind at the moment.

 Klaus leaned in, with such contradiction to his normal pattern. Christine could feel legs, hips and torso distancing itself from her while his breath stayed as close to her as a second skin. It was as though he knew not to get too comfortable.  

 That was what she wanted, distance- just a second of distance. She needed to control her thoughts before they controlled her.

 “Do you want me, Pet?” he whispered.

 Whatever momentary lapse of confusion Christine may have had was broken with that simple epithet.

 She wanted to say no. She wanted to reach for the blade that stayed strapped to the back of her upper thigh and plunge it into that space where the base of his throat met his chest. She wanted to watch him gurgle in temporary pain as blood spewed down his body. But the effort would have been wasted for he’d soon recover and be just as smug as he was now.

 So instead Christine smiled, coy and ready for these games, “Not for a price you could pay,” she whispered back, her wet lips brushing the side of his mouth.

 This was the sport that he played, that he was an expert in. But little did he know that she was an expert as well and had been preparing to kill him, her entire life.  

 He was the fox for all intended purposes and she the rabbit.

 But little did Klaus know that although she may be the rabbit, Christine was not your average leporidae. For her teeth were sharper than a wolf’s and her eye more perceptive than any bird of prey. She could kill without conscious or thought and delighted in nothing more than complete disassociation from any sense of regret or feeling.

 “There is no price that is too high” he responded, quick as the smirk on his face flattened with sincerity.  

 “I’m not asking for gold.”

 Klaus stepped back, his mood noticeably changing from playful to cold, “You never were…” he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth as a lecherous gaze turned to a disdainful stare.

[cbk1000]

If you had to submit one work of KC fanfiction to the CW in an effort to show the passion and talent of the KC fandom AS WELL AS the potential of KC, what would it be and why? Let's open it up to one canon and on AU just to show what amateurs have been able to create based on just the character dynamics.

VERY interesting question.

I think for the AU I’d have to say ‘I’m Not Calling You a Liar’ because Bkgrl really went above and beyond in establishing and exploring not only the show’s mythology, but her own, and what’s more, actually being faithful to it. It’s a tightly-plotted, well-researched story with a lot of time and care put into it, and it accomplishes so well the things the current professional writers of TO and TVD struggle most with. The author was also careful to treat the Originals as complex, multi-dimensional beings who are not bound by the narrow parameters of human morality, thus presenting us with a pyschology that is actually believable as it pertains to centuries-old monsters. 

For canon I think Willowaus’ ‘Wicked Schemes’ is an excellent example of how to utilize the character of Caroline Forbes in a way that gives her an actual purpose in the narrative beyond makes-Stefan’s-dick-tingly-therefore-super-important. It also goes to show that the very basic premise of TO has a lot of potential, that with a little more time and care (and better writers, obviously), this was a concept that could have been maximized, leaving us with a well-plotted, complex story. She also actually managed to present Klaus as a monster, rather than this weirdo hand-wringing limpdick ‘hero’ TO keeps trying to shove in our faces, and to show that he is in fact capable of love, of very deep love, but that it does not have to diminish him as a character or even a villian, that the Klaroline ship can in fact contribute many layers to the story as a whole, and to the characters specifically.

[loveyou914]

The last time Klaus had seen her (Caroline) it was 1922 and she was bleeding out, calling his name, with a stake in her hand. Esther's curse involved a doppelganger and a hunter, who would spend the next 9 life times and 1000 years, distracting, stalking, killing, loving, annoying and torturing Niklaus Mikaelson, forever thwarting his efforts to break the moonstone curse. Read the story

[bkgrlrandomthoughts]

When he looked at her, Christine felt as though she had been kissed with the cold whisper of death. Her skin prickled, every tiny hair on her body standing on end. Every dream, near every thought, every haunting of her life had led to this moment. Her pulse slowed, breaths now shallow and soft, while the edges of her conscious mind screamed out with hatred, disgust but most importantly desire….

 “Niklaus….” it danced on tip of her tongue, falling out her mouth just as his eyes met hers. And in that single point of contact between them Christine’s existence all at once made sense.

 Every emotion she had ever felt had narrowed onto this one set of greyish blue eyes. It was pure lust and nothing else. In her mind Christine could feel his hand beneath her skirt. His teeth were tearing through soft the skin beneath her jaw as all resolve rapidly dissolved. However somewhere among that near failure arose Christine’s euphoric triumph with the soft give of her blade cutting through his skin.

Now, those lifeless eyes peered up at her intently searching for weakness.

 “Do you have a name?” he spoke to her deaf ears.

 Lost in the lust of death and possible defeat, Christine looked back blankly. She was response- less for moments, unsure what he had even said until words came to her, “Who are you to ask?”

[bkgrlrandomthoughts]

She could hear the screams echoing through the long, dark musty tunnels. It seemed as though the sounds were coming from everydirection whispering their invitation for death. As Christine crawled along thegutters that trickled with black filth, she kept herself pressed to the wall with her bow partially drawn.

 The tunnels were crawling with them. Their movements were the bursts of quick gusts of wind in a breeze-less space; the flattening of each echo as the sound waves met mass. Christine could hear them passing from one tunnel in the maze to another, gathering like a nest of rats preparing to feed.

 It had been hours or perhaps days since she had entered the maze, at this point she could no longer tell. She’d often lose track of time and day all together while there. The vast seemingly endless space lit with unnatural light leaving her suspending breathlessly in the hunt.

 Hearing their movements slow she stopped, her knees and shins covered in the fowl smelling inky water. Christine knew that the three she’d already killed were perhaps only half. The new breed that filled the maze much improved compared to her first.

 These new creatures were not the freshly born, with clouded eyes and little sense. No this novel breed had a refined thirst for death. Their attacks were never rash and senseless but more the slow agonizing thrill of the chase. These vampires weren’t sloppy and half starved. There was an art to how these creatures hunted. With craft and calculation, it both nauseated and thrilled Christine.

 They had bested her more than a few times in the maze and always for some foolish mistake. Countless times before, a moment of pure thoughtlessness had overtaken her as she’d act too quickly misjudging a play only to wake hours later bleeding from both her neck and between her thighs.

 It was all part of her training, the game that seemed to never end. Only no longer was there an ominous threat of death. No, Father Cyril wouldn't let them kill her now after all the time he’d invested. Now that she’d narrowly fought her way to survive to this point, he would choose a punishment for failure so much worse than an endless sleep.

 Death would have been a blessing she would have welcomed with open arms instead of waking on cold, putrid floors, half drained, half dead, raped repeatedly and left to languish.

 “Why am I here?!” A voice screamed out into the darkness.

 This game was nothing new. The stakes always just as high. If Christine lost she’d be preyed upon just to the point of death. The other human fairing no better. 

 “Please help me!” The voice called out desperately.

 Turning the corner Christine entered another tunnel in the vast maze, only this one was part of multiple branching chambers. Standing in front of three separate entrances, all black and equally foreboding, the girl rang her hands and wiped tears from her cheeks. The young female was perhaps only three and ten. She was just a child that screamed at the cobbled walls as though they would answer her back.

 She was a trap.

[romanoffsbite]

bkgrlrandomthoughts

I love Anne! She got some super sass (which is a must), she doesn't take anyone's bullshit (also a must), and she is one of the best writers out there.

INCYAL is one of my all-time favorite fics and I can't even IMAGINE the work that goes into writing each part, but that just shows how dedicated she is to her work and it's refreshing.

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[loveyou914]

Klaroline Fanfic Week Day 3: Historical Fanfics

What’s a name you’ve always adored? Isabel Favorite Historical Fanfics? I’m Not Calling You A Liar Favorite Historical Scene from Fanfic? In INCYAL, I love the scene when the second Lyanna has been summoned and she is in the celebration and they are trying to break her. That moment when she is feeling offended and degraded and alone and out of nowhere she feels Klaus hold her hand. Also, their last scenes together cause she loved him, DAMN IT ALL TO HELL, she loved him and it broke me. Would you prefer reading Caroline travelling back to Klaus in a medieval time or born and raised? I haven’t read any of the traveling ones. I tend to prefer the ones that go back and forth. Fantasy Historical scene/drabble/oneshot/fanfic? Your favorite time era picked by writers for their fics? All are really interesting to see. When it’s written well, it creates a new perspective. Favorite Historical Graphic/Edit/Gifset and/or Manip? I love the Spartacus based gift set. I forget what it’s called.