You know you love VD when,1. You have the Season 1 DVD or watch reruns online.You know you love VD when,5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
2. You've had dreams about it.
3. You where either yourself, Damon, Stefan, or Elena in those dreams.
4. You have VD collectibles.
5. You are a member of any type of VD fansite.
6. You are a member of Team Stefan, Team Damon, Team Stelena, Team Delena, or Team Elena (any others I don't know about, please let me know!)
7. If you miss an episode for whatever reason, it bothers the crap outta you.
8. After you watch an episode, you think about it alot.
9. You have a lot of deviations pertaining to VD.
10. You've read the books and watch the series.
11. You've read the books more than once.
12. You read other books by LJ Smith
13. You like to use quotes from the series in everyday life.
14. Someone has asked you why you love vampires so much.
15. You gave that person a very detailed explanation as to why.
16. You like to drink a lot of red colored drinks because it looks like ur drinking blood.
17. Someone has commented on your red color
Rose and Dimitri: last kissWe ran to the exit, emerging into the air. My group clustered by the opening, anxious to see what had happened. The sun, I was dismayed to see, was nearly gone. The nausea hadn't left me, which meant Strigoi were still alive.Rose and Dimitri: last kiss5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Moments later, my mother's party came tearing down the hall. By the numbers, one more had gone down. But they were so close. Everyone around me tensed up. So, so close.
But not close enough. Three Strigoi lay in wait in one of the alcoves. We'd passed them, but they'd let us go by. It all happened so fast; no one could have reacted in time. One of the Strigoi grabbed Celeste, his mouth and fangs going for her cheek. I heard a strangled scream and saw blood everywhere. One of the Strigoi went for Ms. Carmack, but my mother jerked her away and shoved her forward towards us.
The third Strigoi went for Dimitri. In all the time I had known him, I'd never seen Dimitri falter. He was always faster, always stronger than everyone else. Not this time. This Strigoi had caugh
to my only crush.you were the first and last person i ever liked.to my only crush.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
after the age of 14 something broke,
or maybe i just liked the thought of someone liking me back,
or the way you made me laugh.
i liked the concept of you,
until you grew up.
i've known you for 9 years, or known of you i suppose,
but i don't really know you. not anymore.
i know the you that was buried 4 years ago beside a father.
i never saw you break, but i saw the tailspin, the rubble after the crash.
you've been in a tailspin for years,
praying to a god you don't believe in to just stop the ride long enough for you to get your bearings.
you used to be the smell of hamburgers grilling and outdoors and pavement.
you were blue sky summers with my brothers,
your smile a stop sign for my 12 year old breath.
you were airsofting, halo, and the screamo band in the garage disrupting my reading.
you were jokes and guitar strings and water balloon fights.
but by the time i was 14 i'd outgrown liking you,
outgrown liking anyone at all
and you'd o
to be born in the rainThe sky's cold tears fallto be born in the rain4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
mingling with the salty trails on my face.
I am born with a winter's rain
caressing my newly formed cheeks,
stiff limbs taking first steps through puddles -
tiny oceans gracing black pavement.
So this is what it feels like
b r e a t h e
fresh, cold air floods tender senses,
tingling and full of a thousand new smells
connected with sights and sounds.
Birth is a cold, fresh, marvelous thing
pulsing and swaying to the discordant music
of new life.
winter heart.maybe it's the weather. maybe it's the steam in the morning and the fog in my lungs that brings these words to life. i can feel them stirring under my breath like a second life; i can taste them in the december air that teases nostalgia from the pitter patter of my winter heart.winter heart.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it's like life is a faded photograph. its like time is a frozen lake. it's like i'm sitting on porches wearing oversized sweaters and holding cups that burn the tips of my numb fingertips. it's like i'm in a forest and it's damp. it's dark. it tastes like a memory and the rain looks the way it did two years ago when i was broken. it's like remembering something perfect in a moment that was anything but; like holding something just out of reach in the palm of my hand.
ten months and three days ago: i'm in a coffee shop with frost on the sidewalk. it is quiet and loud and i have the feeling that i really am all alone. but it isn't bad. it is peaceful. it is soft and my bruised heart breathes deep. i exhale. it is
the words and the silence_c.words are what brought us together.the words and the silence_c.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it was the sentences and the phrases, the way the vowels sounded when you murmured them over state lines. it was the way i could hear your tongue roll and your teeth click; the sensual sighs between the beginning and the end. it was the way i could hear the ocean in your voice and the way i could feel the typhoon at the base of my spine. there was no friction between your fingertips and my flesh. there was no raised hairs from the tide of your breath. it was the language and the way we forged it between upraised hands and a prayer. it was the promise of tomorrow and the carved stone we left on our porch step - knowing one day our sails would fill with more than just hope.
Dreams are what gave our words life.
Oh, there was glory in the romance we dreamt of. We saw a legend in our tale, awaiting a serendipitous encounter and we craved to carve out its epic climax with our bare fingertips. Yes there was glory, and even pride. Pride that ou
The Problems With Stories Written by TeenagersDon't be offended at the title. "Teenagers" is just my way of saying "people who write unprofessional/shallow stories." Not all teenagers write shallow stories, it just sounds catchier.... Anyway.The Problems With Stories Written by Teenagers2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
The first thing I want to make clear is: I'm not talking about anything mechanical in this deviation. Grammar/spelling is important (obviously), but that point has been beaten to death by people on the internet already. My purpose, as always, is to talk about the stories themselves, regardless of the way they are communicated. Whether it be through written word or on-the-spot narration, I believe there are certain tricks to telling good stories. Not rules, mind you. Tricks.
I don't believe that telling good stories is about what you "should" do, rather than what you shouldn't. Example: people generally hate Mary Sues, right? Well, sometimes I notice things that are "like" Mary Sues, in the sense that they're equally as shallow/unprofessional ways of telling stories. The purpose of this deviat
i dream as a lion.i used to dream about sinking into the ocean. i used to dream about going up in flames and finding redemption in the way that the ash fell from my hands. now, when i dream, i think about the way that passion used to light my veins. i think about the pain that pinched my limbs and the cramps that woke me screaming in the middle of the night. i dream about the agony - the way i would stare at the sun and call it living. the way that i called each bleeding wound life and each burned palm passion.i dream as a lion.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i was the girl that swallowed the world and spit up the ocean. i remember the way that the mountains scraped my throat and the slaughter of the world settling into the pit of my belly. i remember the bitterness hitting the back of my throat and the way that even when i doubled over, even when i screamed out, even when i hit my knees that i was crying hallelujah. the way that the world was brighter for the pain and the way that i believed the only way i could see was when i was saltwate
it won't, i know that.Let me tell you a story. Let me paint you a picture.it won't, i know that.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It’s dark and I’m alone and the wind is howling and once upon a time, I might have made this sound poetic. I’m crying, but it’s not pretty. I’m crying and my nose is red and my hands are shaking and the cigarette is limp between my scarred, calloused fingers. I once might have made this sound pretty. I might have made it sound desirable. Did you want a high? All you had to do was touch my skin, to feel your way down my sweat-slicked hips. Did you want to get buzzed? You just had to soak in the passion like alcohol and let your mind go wild. I used to have nothing but chaos to offer. Now I just have memories – do you want to take them?
But you won’t. I know that. I paid the price and life paid me. Whatever I once had is gone and it’s been replaced with this shaking emptiness. I can no longer get drunk. I just get sad. I sit at broken pianos and think about the music they used to make, li
Equus AbsurdusIn keeping with my ranting about aggravating animals in fantasy, I think I shall rant about horses. The second most overly romanticized and anthropomorphized animal galloping around DA, second only to wolves. And heck, the ol' Equus Absurdus may give Lupus Bardus a run for his money. This will be less pointing out ineptitude in storytelling and rampant cliche, and more about doing your friggin' homework before you write or draw horses. And watching Spirit doesn't count.Equus Absurdus7 years ago in Historical More Like This
I'll be pretty blunt about the art side of things. Horses are Hard To Draw, and they are the Gods of being Hard To Draw. The only thing that I think might be harder is dinosaurs. (She said smugly.) Or possibly deer. When the grand masters of the Renaissance and contemporary master artists alike are stumped by rendering the correct pose of horses in flight, you bow before the king of hard art. Because ever
she knows her paper cuts by name.Rose bloodshe knows her paper cuts by name.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on her tongue
reminds her of yesterday's.
A heart's hoarded secrets,
love me pretties, &
scarlet letter dreams.
do these boys know
of the bitter winter
like a blizzard
in her veins?
The sharp edges
or the crisscross
of origami limbs?
as deep &
as the ocean;
.and like a stone at.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the bottom of the river
or the sea,
i think life might just be
flowing right past me
I Hate That I Love YouI hate that you're my every thoughtI Hate That I Love You4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That I wake with you on my mind
And fall asleep
To images of your smile
I hate that I adore you so
With gorgeous eyes
And sweet lips
I long to taste
I hate the way you make me feel
Like I need you to survive
As if breathing without you
I hate that I yearn for you
I hunger for your touch
Of every day
I hate the way I love you
With every beat
Of my wretched heart
That loving you keeps me alive
Yet keeps me alone
Truths of a fallen angeltrust, close your eyes, fall into my figure and float on your back along a cloud in a misty skyTruths of a fallen angel6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ripples of dreams pintch on your neck, down your jaw to find your lips
all the time your heads telling your hearts that this isnt real
dont worry, im here, not going anywhere,
but dont look down,
you'll get scared and will dissolve in my fingertips to icy grey dust to leave me with nothing
look up to heaven and open your lock of chains twisted around you mind and let it free to find your
true self, to find a god to push us together, in fate and destainy
luminous undying bodies that sway in winds and leaps of faith
we are two falling angles with the hands of the earth in ours
find the key in a childs wishes, and steal it in hope he doesnt notice and start to cry
this is the key to the doors we will open forever to let in the pure light of the angels silver wings
you repay the child you robbed of dreams with these new sights of new born babies and cradled loves
and give him hope of a new world
Commission: Char Bio: GraylingCommission: Char Bio: Grayling2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Title: Rogue – Thief – Nimble Fingers
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Description: Height - 5' 2" Weight - 86 lbs Age - 20
Slight and slim in physique as any drow would be. White wispy hair is cut short and given a tousled look, born of one with no patience to groom lengthy locks or even short ones. Grayling was named for her telltale drowish blood in her dark skin which is mostly gray with mottled hints of muddy brown mixed in and delicate pointed ears that have a slightly rounded shape, giving evidence to her human heritage. Grayling has a fine balance of both bloodline’s: A rounded face, thick dark eyebrows, eyelashes, and brilliant blue eyes that do not slant the way they are supposed to in a typical drow.
She is considered cute rather than pretty, girlish and tom-boyish. Grayling’s waifish figure is often mistaken for a kid or a boy due to
NPC: Valas ZauviirNPC: Valas Zauviir9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Click to see a great picture!
Valas Zauviir - Anima Mage
Title: House Wizard
Faction: Web of the Spider Queen
Enemies: His mother in particular
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Classes: Undecided (but all arcane to be sure)
Hit Points: DM fills
Melee Attack: DM fills
Skills: DM fills
Feats: DM fills
Possessions: (Items and Equipment) DM fills
Description: Height - 4' 10" Weight - 89 lbs Age - 144
Valas is a comely well built drow. The body under his robes is well toned and physically fit, unusual for a wizard, but a necessity for one in his position. He is a beautiful man (+20 APP) but one side of his face is horribly scarred and is covered with a mask. Valas has all the features of a typical drow. Crimson eyes, long luxurious whi
Xull'rae's Christmas WishIt was getting colder as the sun fell behind the horizon. The wind was picking up and snow would be falling again soon. It had been a long journey to get here; Xull'rae could not just teleport as she had never been here and everyone she had spoke to did not have a clear picture of the area. She was cold and so tired.Xull'rae's Christmas Wish9 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
Xull'rae had traveled countless miles with little rest to get here in time. She only carried one bag for clothes and provisions. The ground and shrubs had been her bed for two months and her horse had been killed and eaten to give some meat besides the mushrooms and stale bread she brought. She had overestimated the distance and did not factor in the white stuff called snow. Snow, she realized was hard to travel in when there was a lot of it, and deep too. She was about two weeks behind schedule, but she had been keeping track of the days by carving marks in a stick.
IWaV: Alexander-ParadiseIWaV: Alexander-Paradise4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Paradise tis more a feeling of poetry than e'er it tis a place. For it is the memory of laughter racing over green pastures down to gentle bubbling brooks to play in the waters. It is the tranquil wonder of the beauty and might of a cascading falls towering high above alone within the never-ending forests, dwarfing the trees in its solitary power. It is diving into the cool, inviting waters of spring or falls and lavishing in the loving caress of the blanketing liquid all around. It is a sun-filled day in dappled gardens where flowers bloom and birds sing. It is a star-studded night dancing close and quiet as only two can. Paradise is a magic. And it resides, I ensure, in a form most enamoring. For to me above all else paradise has found its definition in a petite frame. Paradise wears boundless curling tresses that fall in sweeping cascade when set free to frame two scintillating crystal
COMMISSION: Marked Target: part 1At the heart of Menzoberranzan was House Baenre. The soul of the city was chaos. Change had swept the city since the flux of powers that be had waged war against the Spider-Queen. She had emerged victorious, her son Vhaeraun and her daughter, Eilistraee were dead. Kiaransalee was also gone . . . and Ghaunadaur . . . well he crawled back under the sink hole he had oozed out of. Lolth stood unopposed as the true deity to the drow that remained. With her rebirth came need of a new matron for House Baenre, or so Quenthel told herself. It was her belief that she had been resurrected by the goddess to help her and this was her reward. A reward she earned as her ruby eyes looked over the carcass of her previous sister Triel.COMMISSION: Marked Target: part 13 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There the tiny and unattractive corpse sat, slightly slumped to the side. A soft rustle echoed eerily across the wide expanse of the audience chamber. Quenthel turned her white haired head slightly. Just guards awaiting her orders and three strangers, two females and a ma
NPC: Lesaonar ZauviirNPC: Lesaonar Zauviir9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Click to see picture!
Lesaonar Zauviir - WARBLADE
Title: House Weaponsmaster
Faction: Web of the Spider Queen
Allies: Valas Zauviir, Xull'rae Zauviir
Enemies: Anyone who shames his house or breaks the law
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Classes: Undecided (but all fighter based to be sure)
Hit Points: DM fills
Melee Attack: DM fills
Skills: DM fills
Feats: DM fills
Possessions: (Items and Equipment) DM fills
Description: Height - 4' 9" Weight - 97 lbs Age - 124
As the Zauviir House's Weaponsmaster Lesaonar is all brawn, having no magical talent aside from his drow abilities. Well versed in many fighting styles and physically able to don heavy armor for his small stature earns
Boar Attack (Renier and Wren):iconwildfire-tama:Boar Attack (Renier and Wren)3 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Wren padded through the forests of Vale. She was by the southern border, examining the new herbs that have been growing ever since the spring had turned into the summer. The spring flowers were largely being replaced by lush green leaves, although many blooms still graced the forest floor. She stepped delicately to avoid crushing the fragile blossoms, humming quietly to herself as she moved about the forest.
Her mind was peaceful. The weather was good, the pack was safe, and the wolf who had been terrorizing her had not shown himself in a good while. Although she caught his ghost of his scent in the breeze occasionally, and sometimes thought she saw a shadow shift from the corner of her eye… but she always shrugged it off, assuming he had gotten bored with her, and moved on to another territory, and perhaps now she would be able to serve her pack without fear of whatever his threats meant.
But half of her was still wondering… he was so… strange. He
The Bleeding RoseThe Bleeding Rose4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know that on this day
That I'm not okay
I thought about you
And the pain just grew
Last year, oh I loved it
And oh how I loved you
The end of last year, and the start of a new
God I hate myself, I wish I could pull trough
I hope your happy
I hope you're in love
I hope you hate me
I hope you move on
But I'm stuck here
All alone and cold
Hating myself, so much fun
Loving you, that pain goes on
Last year I held you
In my arms
Nothing could be better
god my heart was warm
But this year
I'm sitting on the stairs
holding a single rose
And that rose is bleeding
That rose, the rose you took
you promised to keep it
and cherish it all of your life
But those days are forgotten
That rose, was my heart
It's bleeding, it feel apart
I can't go on without some love
And when I read what you sent me, I just, fell apart.
The rose has its thorns
and they do sting
But I can't throw it away
I want a new rose, and someone who stays!
On this Valentine's Day
I learned that for me
And I love you