#— 🡮 ANSWERS // KC VOICEMAIL▁

[eyesofbluebitch]

Hi i read your reblog to my post and yeah...Seto is kinda mischaracterized by the fandom (that's partly anime fault, especially the 4kids version). His characters is meant to be a ~ very ~ realistically representation of someone with clear PTSD do to an extremely shitty childhood. It is pretty clear that he uses Duel Monsters as a ways of escapism and to communicate with people, while for his relationship with Atem...i personally don't see it as romantic, i mean KT himself during an interview that Kaiba uses Atem as a trauma projection filler to take on the role of Gozaburo (the enemy to defeat) and that's extremely unhealthy.

So yeah... Seto is a good person AT HEART who is also very fucked up because of traumas...when he will go to therapy i will know peace ✌🏻

Hi. Thanks for the ask. I’ll be answering this with my own personal thoughts and opinions being a hardcore Seto stan and long term Seto writer. I reblogged that post because I write Seto very realistically with the actual meanness that puts most people off of him because it’s who he is. With the added corruption and snobbery of being filthy rich. Doing things that a rich figurehead in the real world would do that I absolutely can see Seto doing. Down to mafia elements and drug usage, I myself have gotten a extreme amount of criticism for how mean my Seto portrayal is as well as other themes. I feel he has always been misunderstood and mis-characterized by not only the fandom but his peers in the series as well. I write him with several mental disorders including PTSD. Down to him being an absolute control freak because it’s the only way he doesn’t feel chaotically not in control of his own life and destiny, down to being an immaculately clean person to near obsession levels of tidiness and order. His views on love and affection completely warped and skewed after growing up being abused and neglected showing him that was the norm outside of Mokuba and him and even they had issues now and then. Duel Monsters is most certainly his escape from all of the bullshit swimming in his head and his demanding job as CEO.

As far as romance is concerned in my view of him I can see him well aware he is drop dead gorgeous and I could see him partaking in casual sex to try to unload all of his trauma and use it as escapism. Which is why he is more or less a bachelor in my writing at the baseline. Letting himself love someone though would be extremely difficult and when presented is not without several drunken melt downs trying to analyze every single molecule of how such a situation arose. While they started off that way, him and Atem, he a object for Seto to take down, I feel DSoD changed that. Again it’s my personal view and what I got from the movie but I view DSoD as his personal love letter to Atem despite him being aware of what drives him to chase the man down. I don’t see him risking his life for just a platonic duel personally. He might not know something more is there until it slaps him in his face at point blank range but that’s how I write him as a Prideshipper.

It’s often the norm that people don’t understand trauma and abuse when it comes to turning someone into a harsh and jaded person, especially growing up with no parental figures and the one you think as a child you can trust only turn out to make you worse, that’s something that happened in my own life which is why writing Seto is more or less home for me. We connect in a lot of ways. As far as therapy is concerned I don’t see him going to therapy, at least not my portrayal because he is clammed up so tight that he would never let his walls down to talk to some random therapist. Instead I believe the therapy and escapism he needs he gets out of dueling Atem. Which is why he needs it so badly. He needs to feel alive and feel his blood rushing through his veins in the heat of battle. Letting him that small window in time to forget all the poison that lives in his mind on a daily basis. It is unfortunate that most people see the shit talking asshole portion of him on the surface and as expected want nothing to do with digging deeper because it’s actually work. It isn’t easy. He isn’t easy and people want something that is easy, which is why very few will ever get to see his softer side. But at the end of the day he’s just this big broken guy that wants what anyone wants in the world  —  to be understood and loved. Though he has all but given up on the idea of anyone doing more than betraying him so his walls only continue to solidify as time goes on. Though by post DSoD he does show character development in being willing to join Yuugi on the battle field and offer him a smile at the end of Diva’s defeat. So I hold hope that as things progress his relationships with certain individuals such as Yuugi will improve over time. It just takes him a extremely slow time to get there. Thanks for the ask though. Always willing to discuss my boy.

[thetourguidebarbie]

You know that angsty KC thing you wrote some time ago? The one you said there was a possibility for more? The one that ended with Caroline’s neck snapped by witches? And klaus was like a galaxy away or whatever? It was great and I am still asking myself what will happen next and I remembered that you said that there could be a ‘next’. So pls if you can, and have some time could you maybe write a part 2? And an happy ending Cause God knows I can’t take more angst...

Sequel to this drabble. NSFW. Tagging @itsnotacrimetoloveyou @goldcaught @sunshineandfangs @storm-pirate and @honestgrins who I believe all asked for the sequel. Mention of what Damon did to Caroline but nothing graphic. Hope you enjoy!!

-------------------

 Caroline stirred slowly, groaning as she tested whether she could move all her limbs and extremities. She didn’t feel any restraints or the lingering ache of vervain. Her sweater felt heavy, the temperature hot and humid despite the lack of sounds that indicated being outdoors. She opened her eyes slowly, noting the cell around her. Grey stone walls, no windows, a single ceiling light, heavy metal door, no furniture, and complete silence.

Definitely not the best prison she’d been in, but it hopefully wouldn’t be the worst either.

She’d been kidnapped more than a few times over the decades since she’d left Mystic Falls, and she’d learned there were two kinds of Klaus Enemies. Some of them wanted to bargain with Klaus or make some sort of agreement, which meant that they wouldn’t kill her, at least until they got what they wanted, and they all died before that happened. The more dangerous ones were the revenge-seekers. They were generally content to torture her on video or make her talk to Klaus on the phone to prove that she was still alive, playing a sick sort of cat and mouse game until he managed to catch up with them. They usually had a plan to kill her in the end, and the closer Klaus got to finding her, the less certain it was that she’d come out alive unless he pulled off a flawless rescue.

His plans had gone awry only once and he’d managed to resurrect her in a relatively timely manner, but both of them preferred to avoid that particular outcome.

She’d bet any number of valuable things that her kidnappers were soldiers in the human army that had tried to lure Klaus into a fake negotiation. Hopefully they were just trying to leverage her to get a better deal from him, a rookie mistake but she could respect the nerve, rather than outright torturing her.

She looked up at the door when it opened slowly, the man in the doorway lingering just shy of coming into the room. Likely a magic barrier then. They both remained silent, just staring at each other. The seconds stretched to what felt like minutes, though there wasn’t really any way to tell, and though she was getting impatient, she knew better than to break the silence. That showed weakness.

“Caroline Forbes?” he asked finally, his voice lower than she’d expected.

“Yep.”

“Where’s the doppelganger?”

Caroline’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline. That was a question she hadn’t heard for awhile. She hadn’t seen Elena in centuries, even before she’d gone to rescue Klaus. “I have no idea,” she said truthfully.

“Weren’t you friends?”

“We lost touch,” Caroline said blandly, not wanting to bore her captor with the whole ‘supposed best friend dated my rapist’ story. “Is that all? Because if it was you can totally let me go now and we’ll call it even.”

“It’s all right. I’m patient. I’ll wait until you’re ready to reconsider.”

She watched in complete disbelief as he slammed the door in her face.

“You have got to be kidding me. I honestly don’t know!” she shouted at the shut door, groaning when it didn’t open and backing up to lean against the stone wall. “Guess history does always repeat itself,” she muttered, closing her eyes and trying to say positive.

She had no doubt Klaus would comb through all three solar systems to find her if he had to, would hire any and every witch he could find to track her down. The question was whether they’d bothered to send him a ransom note if it wasn’t about him. If he had no idea where they’d taken her and they hadn’t left any clues, that could definitely be a problem.

Whatever. She’d do her best to escape before anything bad happened. If they were after Elena and hadn’t bothered to do any research on her other than know about their childhood friendship, it was likely they’d vastly underestimated her. Hopefully she could use that to her advantage.

Maybe she’d let Klaus lick the blood of her captors from her body if he arrived in time.

------------------

Klaus frowned as Caroline’s phone went to voicemail for the third time after ringing out. She’d seemed less than pleased on the phone, but it wasn’t like her to ignore his calls. He hung up, barking for his hybrid to drive faster and flipping the phone around in his hand, staring out at the rain and trying not to panic.

Leaving Caroline for longer than a day was less than ideal. She did go on the occasional multi-week getaway with friends, but he always made her promise to stay with at least one other person and text him once a day just to let him know she was alive. They’d learned to compromise over the years, especially once Caroline made absolutely clear that if he wanted her to stay he had to stop being ‘red flag central’ about monitoring her whereabouts, but it was difficult for him to shake that something wasn’t quite right in this particular case.

His suspicion turned to full-blown worry once his hybrid guards’ phones each went to voicemail as well.

“Let me out and meet me there,” Klaus ordered, out of the door as soon as the hybrid pulled over and speeding to the house as fast as he could. He swore when he found the door unlocked, punched a hole in the wall when he couldn’t detect Caroline’s scent on the property beyond the faint lingering trace in their bedroom, and felt his rage grow when he saw his hybrid with his throat slit on the ground, his heart on the floor beside it. He inhaled and frowned when he found the blood scentless, his alarm bells ringing even more fervently when he realized it was likely spelled to keep Caroline from being tipped off.

Witches.

He pulled out his phone, easily finding the number and holding it out to display the hologram of Bonnie’s face when she answered.

“Klaus,” she greeted, her tone cool. Though he and the Bennett witch had grown to be on better terms than they had previously, he was under no delusion that it wasn’t solely due to Caroline. Witches tended to hold grudges, and Bonnie was no exception.

“Caroline’s missing.”

He appreciated the clear effort it took for Bonnie to restrain herself from asking him whether Caroline had finally come to her senses and left, instead running a hand through her hair and giving him a distrustful glance. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Text me the details of how you managed to let her get kidnapped so that I don’t have to hate you to your face.”

She hung up, leaving Klaus to wish, not for the first time, that Caroline wasn’t fond enough of the Bennett witch to object to just a spot of torture.

------------------

“Out of curiosity, why do you need Elena?” Caroline rasped, her throat burning from lack of blood.

The minion tying her to the coffin paused, clearly considering whether to answer her question. She hadn’t been able to detect a heartbeat and he didn’t smell like dinner, so she suspected he was a species of humanoid alien that didn’t have consumable blood, though the light was too low to see which one.

“Just a spell,” he said casually, his accent thick. He sounded like he might be from somewhere in Solar 4, which was a bad sign. She and Klaus were most definitely not welcome in that sector. Hopefully he wasn’t an avid political junkie and wouldn’t know who she was. He tugged the chain to test the strength of it and she hissed at the pain from the scratch of it against her skin.

“Why?”

“The spell is a bodyswap. He found a few friendly vampires willing to make a bargain. In exchange for the doppelganger being returned to their care, they would give us her blood. As I’m sure you’re aware, traveller blood is needed to cast the spell.”

“What vampire made the deal?” she asked slowly, already pretty sure of the answer, and when the captor confirmed her suspicion she couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

Damon Salvatore would be a perpetual thorn in her side. She’d stopped Klaus from killing Stefan out of a misplaced sense of nostalgia, but if he was going to keep resurrecting his brother indefinitely then they both needed to go, toxic but fondly remembered high school friendships be damned.

At least this meant Elena had hopefully finally come to her senses and ditched both of them. Good for her.

“Well, unfortunately for you and Damon, Elena and I lost touch like, a century ago, so I can’t help you find her. No blood, no spell. You might as well just let me go.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” a familiar voice said from across the room. Her body felt heavy, her limbs too leadened to move even without the chains securing them to the coffin, but she managed to turn her head enough to catch sight of the total asshole standing in the doorway.

“You,” she hissed, attempting to struggle against her bonds as the human approached, the sound of his heartbeat giving her a surge of energy, every instinct she had screaming at her to pounce. He’d been a general in the last uprising, though not a very good one, and his army had been dealt with quickly and efficiently. She’d disagreed at the time with Klaus’s methods, knowing that if they used the guy’s girlfriend as an example it would just escalate everything and make it worse, but Klaus had worn her down. He’d been doing it for centuries, he reminded her. He knew how to take care of a few enemies.

“It’s just one girl,” Klaus had said at the time as they rode the ship back to their home base, his arms tight around her as he nuzzled her neck, nipping her ear with a fang. “He’ll get over it.”

She felt so stupid. She’d known that the general wouldn’t let go of his grudges as easily as Klaus expected, and she should have insisted that they find another way. He was clearly not over it, and now she was clearly going to pay the price.

“When I escape, and I will, I will drain all of you dry and I’ll make it hurt,” Caroline spat.

The general laughed. “You won’t have the chance. We’re going to leave you here to dessicate nice and slow while we track down the doppelganger, or find a witch who can use expression instead as a last resort. Whatever witch we use will swap us, and you’ll get thrown in that pretty dungeon over there to waste away in a human body while I track down Klaus, who will be so pleased with your return that he won’t even notice the white oak stake until it’s through his heart.”

She felt every bit of her insides turn to ice, her breath catching in her throat. “The white oak stakes are gone. The trees were destroyed with Earth.”

“I got the last one. Also part of the bargain with the Salvatores.”

Ugh. She should have known.

“Once I’ve taken care of him I’ll have a ready-made army who’s already loyal to you.“

“He won’t believe you,” she said, her thirst making it harder to speak. “He knows me.” Sure, she’d been a little grumpy lately because of the distance, but Klaus knew her idiosyncrasies better than anyone.

“You’d be surprised at how far people are willing to go to suspend their disbelief if it gets them what they want, especially if they’re distracted by other activities.”

Caroline felt her heart race, the reality that not only could this work, but she and Klaus could be in very deep trouble, crashing into her like a punch to the gut. Her eyes burned with tears. They’d killed the bodyguards Klaus had left with her and she had no idea how long it would take for him to get back. He had no way of knowing what happened.

She was alone.

------------------

“I can’t believe you lost her,” Bonnie said grumpily, her fingers tapping on the table as she looked out the window of the ship, and he could tell she was deliberately avoiding his gaze. There was no scenery to take in, after all. The endless inky blackness around them perfectly reflected Klaus’s foul mood.

“I didn’t lose her,” he ground out.

“I mean, she wasn’t exactly where you left her,” Bonnie pointed out, shooting him a glare before staring intently at the map in her lap she was using to channel the tracking spell. He could see that the pages had begun to glow a bit brighter with magic, indicating that they were getting closer.

He bit back a retort to Bonnie’s rather rude implication that this was somehow his fault, knowing that Caroline wouldn’t appreciate it if the first thing she learned post-torture was that he and Bonnie had gotten into a spat. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll go give the pilot the coordinates.”

He ran a hand through his hair as Bonnie got out of her seat to go talk to the hybrid manning the ship, every inch of him on edge. He’d been alive for over 1,500 years, long enough that months felt like mere moments in the grand scheme of things. Seasons passed in the blink of an eye, the concept of time a measurement that now seemed insignificant at best. He had eternity to do whatever he pleased, and the pastime of watching the mortals around him struggle to live their lives to the fullest while they still could had lost any appeal long ago.

However, whenever Caroline was in danger, time seemed to return to dragging on the way it had when he was young. Every moment was precious. The knowledge that the difference between Caroline being alive and being ripped away from him could be a single second was a terrifying reminder that though the mortals struggled to survive, the luxury of endless opportunity out of reach for them, at least if they made a fatal mistake it all ended soon enough.

If he lost Caroline because of his certainty that he knew best how to protect her, because of his arrogance and unwillingness to compromise, he would have an unending eternity to never forgive himself.

“Take off your broody face,” Bonnie said, her voice cutting through his dark mood.

“I’m not brooding.”

“Aren’t you though?” Bonnie asked dryly, sitting down next to him. Her expression softened when she saw his face, and Klaus turned away, unwilling to let her see his weakness. His fear. “She’ll be fine,” Bonnie said reassuringly, her voice holding a confidence Klaus didn’t at all share.

“We don’t know that.”

“If she was dead the map wouldn’t be able to track her down,” Bonnie said patiently. “And even if she was, we’ve pulled her back from the other side before. It was a huge pain in the ass and you totally made me want to kill you once or twice, but we managed.”

“Right,” Klaus said noncommittally, flicking a piece of dried blood out from under his nail.

“Do you have to do that in front of me?” Bonnie complained. “It’s so gross.”

“The longer you let blood dry there the harder it is to remove.”

“Then wash your hands,” Bonnie said exasperatedly, huffing and turning back to her map. “Men. Ugh.”

------------------

Everything hurt.

The wood of the open coffin was hard against her back, her heightened nerves making the scratches in the wood feel like sandpaper against her oversensitive skin. Her lungs hurt when she tried to breathe, and she could feel her muscles growing weaker by the second even as she tried to struggle uselessly against the cold hard metal that bound her. She could hear voices in the hallway bartering over witchy services and the combination of that and hunger was making her head pound.

It wasn’t long before they seemed to reach an agreement, and she eyed the witch who came in with disdain, struggling to keep her eyes open as she felt the last dregs of energy leave her.

She gathered every piece of false bravado she could, taking a shaky breath. “It won’t work. Klaus will find out. Your deaths will be slow and painful. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart.”

Caroline had barely gasped out, “Klaus?” before she felt the rush of him go by her and the witch was crumpled on the stone floor with her neck snapped.

“What did they do to you? Were there wolves?” he asked sharply, his eyes roving her body to check for a bite even as he bent to free her. Caroline took a shaky breath, flinching in pain as the chains scraped against her skin when Klaus ripped them.

“No. Just hungry,” Caroline wheezed, coughing around the words, her throat too dry to explain more.

He pulled her up to cradle her against his chest, sitting on the coffin she’d been chained to and steadying her in his lap before pressing his wrist to her lips. “Drink, sweetheart.”

Her fangs were through his skin before he’d even finished. She was unable to suppress a moan as the blood hit her tongue, her pulse pounding in her ears as the rush of magic surged through her veins, the gashes on her arms knitting closed, her skin regaining some of its color. His eyes never left her face as he watched her feed, his fingers carding through her hair.

“You could have at least whooshed me with you,” Bonnie complained from the doorway, her breathing harsh as if she’d been running. “Oh my god.”

“She’ll be alright,” Klaus assured her quickly. “Everyone else in the building, however...”

“Revenge, we know,” Bonnie said impatiently, bending down to inspect Caroline herself. “No magic stuff?”

“They didn’t get to it,” Caroline said, curling into Klaus as much as possible, inhaling his scent and internally repeating to herself that he was fine. They were fine. Nothing bad had happened.

But if he hadn’t come in time...

“Let’s go home,” Klaus said softly, clearly sensing that she was too upset to explain. “You can tell us what happened on the ship, all right?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He held her for a few moments even after she’d recovered her strength, his nose buried in her hair, and she curled against him, listening for the reassuring thump of his undead heartbeat. She could hear Bonnie moving in the background, objects rustling as though she was trying to figure out what the plan had been.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Klaus whispered, his voice so low that Caroline doubted Bonnie had heard. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Technically I did have bodyguards,” Caroline pointed out with a strained smile, shifting against him to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “And I love you too.”

“They’re lucky they were killed by the enemy. Their deaths by my hand for losing you would have been much more painful.”

“If it’s really bothering you we can resurrect them and you can kill them again,” Caroline teased, rolling her eyes when Klaus looked more thoughtful than amused. “I was just joking.”

“Were they going to do a body swap spell?” Bonnie interrupted, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Caroline said tiredly, tangling her fingers with Klaus’s when he stiffened. “They were going to let me die of starvation in a human body while they used mine to kill Klaus and then take over the army we built.”

She tried her best to keep her tone flat, to not let herself listen to what had come out of her own mouth and risk the fear of what could have been making her break down, but she felt Klaus stiffen against her. “Surely you haven’t forgotten that I can’t be killed?”

“They had the last white oak stake,” Caroline said, watching Klaus’s face darken.

“Did they, now?”

“He showed me.”

“It’s probably a fake,” Klaus said, his overconfidence kind of making her want to scream.

“I mean it looked pretty real when he showed me,” Caroline said with forced patience, shifting in Klaus’s arms. “And even if it was a regular stake, you’d still trust not-me enough that he could have stabbed you with it, and it would still kill you for long enough for them to...lock you up, or something.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, love,” he promised.

She swallowed her skepticism, not wanting to have a deep conversation about their recent lack of contact in front of her already anti-Klaus best friend and some fresh corpses. “Can we go?”

“I want to take a look around in case they have anything useful,” Bonnie said. “I’ll keep an eye out for the stake too. Can I meet you back on the ship in an hour or so?”

“Of course. I’ll send a hybrid to escort you,” Klaus said, standing up with Caroline still in his arms.

“I can walk, you kn--” Caroline began, her protests interrupted by Klaus speeding them back to the ship in a blink of an eye, carrying her into their usual suite and setting her down on the bed.

“How do you feel? Do you need anything?”

“Achy,” she admitted, shifting slightly against the mattress. “But just some more blood, maybe?”

“I’ll get you a glass,” he said, reaching to squeeze her hand before leaving the room, returning moments later with a glass, which he handed her. Her mouth watered at the scent, but she forced herself to sip slowly, needing something to do with her hands.

“I’ll kill them all,” he promised. “They’ll never hurt you again.”

“I know,” she said, trying not to sound too irritated despite being somehow annoyed that that was the first thing he wanted to say. “I’m fine, though.”

“And I’m glad of that,” he said slowly, clearly sensing that something was off beyond her physical injuries and the mental toll it took to be tortured. “What’s troubling you, sweetheart?”

She bit her lip, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, setting her mug down on the bedside table before patting the spot next to her. He eyed her warily before kicking off his boots and sitting beside her, their thighs pressed together, his hand resting on her knee. “Caroline?”

“What if you hadn’t gotten there in time?” Caroline asked softly, her voice hitching. Klaus looked vaguely alarmed by the question, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I did, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

“But what if you hadn’t?”

“Then I’d have figured it out, and I’d have come for you.”

He sounded so confident, so sure, but somehow that only made her more upset, and she felt her eyes heat as tears built. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “I like to think after the last few hundred years I know you rather well.”

She let out a slightly watery laugh, sniffling when the tears started falling. It was probably the thousandth time she’d cried in front of Klaus, and he still made the same alarmed expression as though he was frantically trying to figure out how to make her stop. “Caroline, I...what...”

“Are you sure?” she asked again, sniffling. “Because we haven’t seen each other for longer than a few hours in like, weeks. Months, maybe?”

“But we’ve been together for over two hundred years,” he pointed out, looking more confused by the moment.

“Yeah, so you trust me, right?” Caroline pressed, wiping her eyes. “Like, if you’d come home and fake me had just jumped you, you would have gone along with it, and then he would have stabbed you with the white oak stake, and--”

“I’d know,” he said, the finality in his tone annoying her even more. “I promise. I’d be safe and I’d find you. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But--”

“What’s actually bothering you, love?” he pressed, studying her face.

She huffed, wiping at her cheeks and trying to blink the tears away. “I just...I don’t know if you would.”

“What?” he asked, sounding more offended than she’d ever heard him. It would have made her laugh if she wasn’t so upset. “Of course I--That’s...Caroline. You can’t possibly think that I don’t care enough to notice when you’re not yourself?”

“No, like, I know you care about me,” Caroline said reassuringly, grabbing his hand. “I just feel like we don’t really get to spend time together anymore.”

“We’ll have eternity together, sweetheart. Especially once the war is over.”

“Yeah, a war that’s been going on for decades. Full offense, but I’d like to spend my eternity with you, not waiting for you,” Caroline burst out. “Do you know how it makes me feel for you to just leave me behind to twiddle my thumbs and do nothing? When you leave me out of all of your semi-evil plots and treat me like I have no value other than being your...your girlfriend? Or whatever? I don’t want to be an afterthought or taken for granted, and I feel like you’re dangerously close to that.”

She felt a bit guilty when she watched his expression close off, his lips pressing together into a thin line as he processed, clearly weighing his words, and he swallowed before he spoke, the only sign that he wasn’t as collected as he looked. “How long have you felt that way?”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. “I don’t know. A while.”

“I wish you’d said something,” he said, wincing at the look on her face. “Not that I shouldn’t have been paying more attention, of course.”

“I mean, you haven’t really been around to notice,” she bit out, regretting her words when he recoiled slightly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

“No, you’re right,” he interrupted firmly. “I haven’t, and I apologize.”

She let out a sharp breath. “No, that wasn’t nice of me. I’m sorry. I know you’ve been busy with everything.”

He was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful, and she took the opportunity to lean against him, tucking herself against his side. “What can I do to acquit myself?” he asked, and she laughed softly.

“No more crazy commute meetings or solo murder sprees,” she said, a slow grin spreading across her face at the way his expression darkened, likely because he thought she was attempting to get him to give up the war entirely. She turned slightly to sling a leg over his lap, cupping his cheeks, the stubble familiar and rough beneath her palms. “Not unless I get to rip out a few hearts with you. Understood?”

He smiled slightly, his hands landing on her hips. “Understood.”

She bent to kiss him softly, but he pulled back what felt like much too soon, making her frown. “What?”

“I never want you to think even for a moment that you are anything less than my first priority or for you to feel that I’m taking you for granted. Nor do I wish to give you the impression that I don’t value your counsel, or that I would prefer you to be left waiting rather than always at my side. Nothing has come more easily to me than loving you, Caroline. I need to trust that you’ll tell me if you’re feeling neglected so that I may remind you of that.”

She felt her breath catch in her throat at the clear affection in his eyes, the way his voice curled around her name in a way that made warmth bloom in her chest even after all their years together. She’d missed the way her heart would skip a beat when he looked at her, everything seeming to fade away other than the intoxicating rush of how he made her feel.

“I can do that,” she promised, slightly breathlessly, and he gave her the dimpled grin that was uniquely hers, the one that only emerged when they were alone and wrapped up in their own little world.

“Good,” he said, pecking her on the lips and shifting underneath her to get comfortable, settling against the headboard, his palm sliding underneath her top to rest on the base of her spine. “I should also note, again, that I object to the term ‘girlfriend’. It’s juvenile.”

Caroline huffed. They’d had that argument what felt like over a hundred times, but neither could come up with a better title. ‘Partner’ reminded Caroline of cowboys (which had made Klaus snort brandy up his nose when she’d complained about it, and she’d only stopped the ensuing explanation of historically accurate cowboys by shoving her tongue down his throat). ‘Lover’ was too sappy, even if Taylor Swift had sort of brought it back for a hot second. They weren’t married. ‘Significant other’ was too long and formal. They’d given up about a decade into their relationship. Caroline had settled for ‘girlfriend/boyfriend’ and Klaus simply expected everyone to know that she was his and be respectful of that, lest their heads be lopped off.

Multiple heads had been lopped off.

It had been a thing.

She hummed noncommittally, deciding not to get drawn into a discussion about it, instead wriggling out of his grip and stripping off her shirt. “I need a shower. I’m covered in blood and dirt.”

“Of course, love. Do you want company?”

She bit her lip, considering. She still felt gross, the remains of the dirt on the coffin and the blood of her captors still sticking to her skin. Almost more unsettling was the knowledge of how close she’d come to having someone else inhabit her body, what they’d planned to do with it. Even though they hadn’t succeeded, the idea of it still made her feel ill, taking up what she felt was too much space in her mind but refusing to budge. She swallowed.

“I’ll be here when you’re done, sweetheart. Just call if you need me,” Klaus said, clearly reading her answer on her face. Klaus was far from stupid, had likely put together where her mind had gone. They’d body-swapped before as a sex thing, but the idea of someone she didn’t know wearing her as a costume without her permission, of being inside of her, was such a violation. It was something she’d had multiple conversations about with Klaus when he’d proposed a body swap for subterfuge as a war strategy. She’s put her foot down. Hard. The idea of it still made her queasy, and he knew it.

She gave him a weak smile, slipping into the bathroom and turning on the spray. The water turned a deep rusty color as it dripped down from her body, the heat flushing her skin. It felt good to have everything washed away, the smears of blood over what had been gashes on her arms and legs rinsing off to show the healed flesh underneath. She worked the bubbles down her body almost mechanically, the indulgently expensive hair products she favored slick under her fingers as she worked them into her blonde curls to make them soft and smooth again.

She could hear Klaus shifting in bed, his fingers tapping against what was probably his tablet, waiting for her to emerge.

She knew that just the talk they had wouldn’t be enough in the long term. Letting herself grow so resentful without bringing it up had been a mistake, one she knew better than to make after being in a relationship with him for this long. It brought up all her old insecurities about clinginess and being too needy, ones she thought she’d outgrown centuries ago. Klaus had never made her feel like she was being too much, but that didn’t squash her deepest fears that one day he might.

But not today, she told herself firmly as she shut off the water, grabbing a fluffy towel and humming to herself as she dried her hair, trying to recenter herself.

“Feeling better, love?” he asked when she came out, his tone so determinedly casual that he had to have been making an effort not to sound too concerned.

“Yeah,” she said, pulling on some pajama bottoms and an old henley from the closet. “Move over.”

He obliged, lifting his arm so that she could lean against him, pushing a mug of blood into her hands. “Do you want to talk?” Klaus asked after a few seconds of her sipping from the mug in silence.

“I’m mostly all talked out,” she said, closing her eyes, cracking one open for a half-hearted glare when he chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

“I do,” he agreed, his thumb stroking the dimple in her elbow.

They were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, Bonnie’s voice floating through. “Caroline?”

“Coming!” Caroline yelled for the benefit of Bonnie’s lack of supernatural hearing, swinging her legs out of bed and whooshing to let her in.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Bonnie said, pulling her into a tight hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good,” Bonnie said, turning to look at Klaus, who was trying to leave them discreetly to give them a few moments of privacy (or because he anticipated squealing once they started catching up). “Don’t you want to know what I found out?”

“I suppose.”

“The white oak stake is definitely fake,” Bonnie said, squeezing Caroline hand as she slumped slightly, a good half of her stress evaporating all at once. “Damon probably just figured the guy would do his stalking for him and he and Elena would be far away by the time he found out the stake didn’t kill you.”

“Not too far for me to kill, however,” Klaus muttered. “And the ripper, I suppose. They’ve both become equally as bothersome. Pity. He used to be such—.”

“Fun. Yeah, we know, you used to have twinsies murder sprees in the twenties,” Bonnie interrupted impatiently. “We have heard every story more times than how many years we’ve been alive.”

Caroline snorted at the revolted look on Klaus’s face at the word “twinsies” and kind of wished she had a camera to capture it.

“Anything else, Bon?”

“Just some spellbooks and reagents. I’ll take them home to study.”

“Okay.”

“You should get some sleep, Care. I’m exhausted and I didn’t even get tortured.”

“I agree,” Klaus said, reaching to slip his arm around her waist. “I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

------------------

“Good morning,” Caroline muttered, tipping her head to the side to allow Klaus to nip her ear. “That feels nice.”

He laughed quietly, letting his blunt teeth drag along her earlobe and sucking on it lightly before moving to press a soft kiss to her lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said, her word dragging into a yawn. “Definitely a nicer wake-up call than yesterday.”

Though Klaus had stuck to his promise to wake her when they were dropping Bonnie off, she barely remembered what had happened, the memory blurry and consisting only of an agreement to call her best friend that afternoon when she’d recovered. She was pretty sure Klaus had carried her to bed when they had arrived to their house, since she didn’t remember their arrival.

“I should hope so.”

“What time is it?”

“Just after second sunrise,” he said, grinning at Caroline’s returning groan. “But we have a significant time difference, so you’ve been asleep quite awhile.”

“Where are we?”

“Sector eight. Our planet.”

She hummed, slinging a leg over his waist to pull herself on top of him and pressing her cheek to his bare chest. Their private planet meant top notch security and zero responsibilities. Perfect for more naps.

He pressed his palm lightly against the base of her spine, his other hand fiddling with the ends of her hair. “Still tired, love?”

“No. You’re just comfy.”

“Not hungry?”

“Not enough to let you move.”

“You should eat,” he said, beginning to move her off of him, presumably to get her some blood, but she shoved him back down, pressing soft kisses down the tattoo inked across his shoulder.

“Fine. Breakfast in bed?” she whispered between brushes of her lips, letting a fang scrape against the bird closest to his neck and flicking her tongue against the cut. She felt Klaus tense under her fingers, heard his swallow when she let out a satisfied hum at the taste of him.

“Are you offering?”

“Demanding,” she shot back, pushing herself up on her palms to look him in the eye. “It’s the least you can do.”

“I suppose,” he drawled, tilting his head to the side, his hand already drifting down to press against her thigh, gently nudging her legs apart. “Since you asked so nicely.”

“Jerk,” she muttered, more affectionately than insulting, and he groaned as she bent and sank her fangs into his neck, his nails curling to bite into her skin, his hips jerking up to grind shamelessly against her.

He’d never held back with her, never tried to restrain himself from reacting to her touches, never hesitated to show her exactly how much he wanted her. Even when they were just watching each other or he was teasing her with infuriatingly gentle brushes of his fingers against her skin or the light flick of his tongue just shy of where she needed it, she never felt the least bit of doubt of how much he loved her, loved being with her.

It was one of the many things she loved about him.

That, and how delicious his blood was on her tongue.

She could hear his harsh breathing, the way he whispered her name when she was on the edge of taking too much. She pulled back slowly, still dazed and high on the rush of it. He caught her lips with his, sucking lightly on her lower lip before tangling his fingers in her hair and tugging her head back to expose her neck. She shivered when he ran his tongue over her pulse and pressed a soft kiss to it, running his nose along the line of her throat to her ear, inhaling her scent. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

Her entire body was pulsing with need, her nipples sensitive, her pussy aching. “I want you. Now.”

“Again, so demanding,” he murmured, nipping her earlobe.

“Oh, well, I guess if you don’t want to,” she teased, laughing when he flipped them over, already kissing his way down her body.

“You should know better than to think that there could be anything else I’d prefer to be doing,” he said softly, looking up to fully meet her eyes.

The moment felt heavier suddenly, his point clear. “I know,” she breathed.

He gave her a dimpled smile, one that was soft and rare and reserved for their most private moments. She felt all of the air leave her lungs, and she knew he could hear how his effect on her made her pulse race, the rush of it so quick it could have been a human’s for just a moment.

“And I do recall I promised to remind you.”

“You did.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, his blunt teeth dragging along the skin for just a moment after, making her shiver, her eyes closing. “Look at me, Caroline.”

She fought to keep her eyes open, but as soon as she met his, she couldn't look away. He held her gaze as he began to lazily drag his fingertip back and forth across the back of her knee, smirking when she shivered. "What do you want me to do, love?"

Klaus had always had the ability to coax out confessions of things she craved. When she'd finally allowed herself to give into him, she'd been surprised by his attentiveness, his determination to convince her to tell him all of her filthiest desires. She'd never exactly been shy, but he'd managed to get her used to making demands, to be unashamed to ask for things she wanted. His light touch was a deliberate tease, designed to make her admit what she wanted from him.

"Make me come."

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh, just shy of where she wanted his tongue. "I intend to. More than a few times, in fact."

"That's ambitious for someone who's been doing a lot more talking than touching."

"I'll get to it, sweetheart," he promised, sliding his hands underneath her thighs to push them apart and back, nipping at the exposed skin. "And if I recall correctly you do like it when I talk."

"You do recall correctly and you know that," she said impatiently. "But right now I want your tongue on me."

"Good," he murmured, bending to let a fang drag across her inner thigh frustratingly close to her entrance, the burn of the venom only making the sensation of his tongue sweeping along the cut even sweeter. "Watch."

She inhaled sharply at the first flick of his tongue against her clit, the soft hum of satisfaction when she rolled her hips instinctively to draw him closer. She kept her eyes locked on his as he swiped his tongue across her entrance just the way she liked it, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips to pull her closer, groaning at the taste of her arousal on his tongue. The barest hint of shame she used to feel for melting against his touch had long been overcome, and it was almost amusing to remember how hard she fought to pretend that he wasn't exactly what she wanted, that his tongue against her clit would result in anything other than her writhing against him demanding more. 

He knew how to draw her out, to tease her for hours as she begged for release, but he knew better than to make her wait this time. Her first orgasm was quick and almost harsh, her ragged breathing muffled only by the rip of the sheets as she dug her nails into the mattress. He barely waited for her to come down from her high to build her up again, watching with dark, wanting eyes as he brought her to the edge twice more before she sank bonelessly against the mattress, watching him with glazed eyes. "Good?" he asked, his expression as smug as ever.

Her undead heart was racing in her chest, her entire body still thrumming with need. "More. Your cock this time."

"Bossy."

She raised an eyebrow, reaching to wrap her hand around his cock, grinning at his low groan when she began to stroke him lazily. "You want bossy?"

"I want you," he shot back, the thickness of his voice and the flash of gold in his eyes taking a response that could have been cheesy and turning into anything but. His cock was hard and hot in her hand, the twitch of his shoulders a certain tell that he was growing impatient. She knew he'd likely been burning with anticipation for hours now, waiting for her to wake and recover so that he could touch her for the first time in weeks. He'd missed her as much as she'd missed him, and she knew that. The way he drank her in now was a sure sign that he'd take her any way he could, and that if she didn't decide what she wanted in the next few seconds she'd be pinned beneath him with his fangs buried in her neck as he took her hard and fast.

Not a bad outcome, but one she wanted to save for later. 

He let her flip them, watched her with hungry eyes as she got up on her knees and shifted to straddle him, nosing the line of his neck as he shifted to sit against the headboard, pulling over with him, his cock hard against her belly. "I want you too," she said, the admission as easy as breathing, tipping her head to the side to allow Klaus to press light kisses against her neck.

He groaned out her name when she reached to stroke him a few times, positioning him at her entrance and sinking down, his lips catching hers in lazy kisses as they found a familiar rhythm. He pressed his forehead against hers, his fingertips branding her hips as he filled her, chuckling at the soft sigh that escaped her lips when he began to move faster, her head falling back to allow him to run his tongue along her pulse point. “I’ve missed this,” he whispered against her neck. “The feel of your skin beneath my fingers, the way your breath catches when I touch you..."

"I missed you too."

She hissed when his fingertip found his bite wound on the back of her thigh and shifted slightly to try to soothe the burn of it, the skin pulsing with a sharp pain that was starting to overtake the pleasure it gave her. He always seemed to know exactly when the venom began to grow to be too much, and he tipped his head to the side, a clear invitation. 

"Good, sweetheart," he praised as she drank, stroking her hair with a gentle touch even as his hips moved faster, rougher, just the way she liked it. The more he touched her the hungrier she became to rediscover every part of him. "Close?"

She pulled back from his neck and nodded, letting her fangs retract and humming her assent before burying her face in his shoulder, moaning when his hand tangled in her curls to tug at them gently, making her clench around him. She could feel her release building quickly now, her toes curling, fingernails digging into his back. She could hear him breathing harshly, hissing out her name when she fell apart around him, coming inside of her moments later. She stayed comfortably pressed against him as she waited for the rush to fade, humming in contentment when he began to lazily stroke her spine, burying his nose in her hair.

"Can we just stay in bed today?" she asked, making no move to slide off of him.

"Of course, love. Still tired?"

"No, I'm good. Just lazy."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek and helping her shift to a more comfortable position draped across his body. "Well, I'm perfectly content to stay here for as long as you like."

"Don't you have important supervillain meetings?" she teased. "To terrorize your enemies and put all of the werewolfy predator fear in their hearts?"

"None that are so important to necessitate us interrupting the well-deserved vacation I promised you."

"Good. I know you always say we have eternity for vacations, but--"

"Even eternity is too short to waste a moment that I could be spending with you," he interrupted, his tone much too formal for the total Disney content that had just come out of his mouth.

She snorted, turning on her side to look at him, reaching to stroke the stubble on his cheek. "I know you hate it when I say you're cute--"

"I do."

"But that was cute. Cheesy, but cute."

"I am neither cheesy nor cute, love. I'm--."

"Yeah, yeah. The nightmare of many. Supernatural boogeyman. Evil supervillain predator who rips out all the hearts. You can still be cute with me. Those aren't mutually exclusive."

She grinned at how offended he looked. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, not by a long shot, but it never failed to push his buttons.

Exactly her plan.

"It's okay to be a cute supervillain predator," she continued, trying to fight down a smile and mostly failing. "Everyone is a multi-faceted person with a lot of layers and nuance, and--"

His smile was all teeth, his eyes flashing gold. "Don't you think it may be unwise to insult the most powerful creature you've met, sweetheart?"

Her hair brushed against the bird tattoo inked along his shoulder as she bent to nip his ear. "Why? Do you bite?"

[zoanzon]

A note, to someone I once loved

I’d like to start with saying that you shouldn’t take the first line of this - ‘I once loved’ - to be romantic or sexual, or anything like that. I would count ‘in love with’ to encompass that way of interpreting ‘love’.

I say ‘someone I once loved’ because, despite how it feels sometimes, I don’t think you were the first person I called ‘best friend’, and so this is the next best way of describing what you meant to me. Sometimes, it feels otherwise: L was a friend, and the first friend who I kept in constant contact with electronically, not just catching up whenever we physically saw each other; and KC and S were - are, even if time and distance has somewhat loosened that bond - my closest friends in high school itself, but they became true friends my senior year. By then, I’d met you; and though it started slow, I came to see you as my friend, then something of an odd confidant for worries about what the next year - and the year beyond, potential colleges - might hold.

So in a way its untrue to say you were my first best friend; but you filled that title in a way that the others didn’t. Perhaps it was the oncoming loneliness: going to college for the first time means everyone is in the same place and equally as adrift and without connections. We had kept in contact, that past year: and so when we came in, we came in with a year’s worth of correspondence and - dare I say it - friendship. When dropped in to the loneliness, when scrambling to make new friends with everyone around me dealing with the same worry, to a degree we already had each other. So, I did love you: I loved you as one loves their first best friend, when something inside goes ‘oh; there you are’ for the first time.

Well, that was how I saw it. Perhaps, for you, it was me clinging ever tighter, a limpet that wouldn’t let go. Perhaps where I saw a best friend, the type stories are told about, you saw an annoyance.

Or maybe not. I think part of why this still bites at me so many years later is that not-knowing. Not-knowing just what it was I did wrong, not-knowing for how long whatever I might’ve been doing was hurting, not-knowing just why you decided to break off contact in the end.

Not knowing what I’d done that could make someone I saw as my first best friend to cut off contact, and scared that I would do it to someone else too, that the same thing would break another friendship. After all, if it brought what I’d thought was my first-best-friendship to such a halt, then it could easily kill other friendships.

So, I got anxious. Whether or not that anxiousness caused that wider friend group we were both attached to drive me out while you stayed, or if it was other actions and decisions, I don’t know. But I didn’t know, and so it made me scared; it made me doubt my own perceptions.

If I so-deeply misread this one dynamic, if I somehow managed to not see whatever shattered a year-and-a-half friendship, the first - not the only; but the first, and in most ways the closest - friend I’d made in that new space away, then could I trust my other perceptions regarding my own actions, or how others understood them?

...I’ve digressed. This is not what I wanted to talk about. Relevant, perhaps; but this is not what I meant to write to you.

Somehow, it still hurts. Somehow, I still miss you. Those feelings are painful, and complicated, and mercurial: even a few years ago, I was aware that I had no clue what reaction might occur if you suddenly reached back out. Would I say ‘I have moved on’ and not respond? Would I tentatively see what you wanted, and take things with a welcoming but wary approach? Would I just be so desperately glad to hear from you once again - to have my original best friend back - that I’d leap in without shielding myself from the same pain happening again?

I titled this ‘to someone I used to love’, and I noted at the top that I did not mean so in a romantic or sexual meaning. I will admit: yes, I did ask you out, that first quarter our freshmen year. I didn’t know what those feelings truly were, but I meant it when I’d told you, right after asking you if you would be down to try and do a date, that your friendship meant more to me than any hypothetical ‘further’. Whether you said ‘no’ - as you did - or you said ‘yes’ and we decided after a date that friendship was best, I just wanted to satisfy that niggling voice of ‘but what if?’

“What if, years from now, I wonder ‘would they have said yes?’ What if I wonder what-might-have-been?”

It was a puppy crush, in a way. You were my first best friend; and you were my closest friend in that new setting, who I was with near-constantly. (And I am sorry for that too, how much of that first semester was me stuck to you, rather than finding your place in things alone.) Friend and confidant, and also someone who I found attractive. So yes, I had a puppy crush: and even then, I had just enough anxiety to have that little ‘what if?’ voice in the back of my mind. Hell, I’d had crushes on a good deal of my femme-presenting friends, at one point or another; I was used to my brain getting puppy crushes on friends, then a month or two later settling back into a happy and content friendship.

But I also had grown up on just enough country songs that the idea of ‘looking back on might-have-beens’ was something I was aware of, and you were my best friend. I figured that, for once, I’d actually work up the courage to ask someone out, and I already held you close from being my best friend. Better to just check, one way or another, I figured: if you said no, no harm done, at least I had my answer, and we could go back to the friendship we had before I asked with that hypothetical laid to rest. What was the worst that could happen?

I guess I know, now. I know that, sometimes, that worst-case fear can actually come true.

...Or maybe it was always inevitable. Or maybe this, or maybe that, or maybe something else entirely. I guess I’m still reminiscing might-have-beens, if not the kind I expected; there’s no point trying to wonder where other choices might have led.

...I digressed, again. If, by any luck or leap of faith you end up finding this - that you have read it this far, rather than discarding it - then I would like to say I’m sorry for the length. It’s gone a bit longer than I meant; though I know better than to edit it, to try and condense things.

It’s written to you, but I know you won’t read this. You’ll never see this: I highly doubt you’re on Tumblr, and while it would be worthy of a story or movie - or a bad fanfic - for you to have secretly been one of my followers, I know that you won’t read this. It truly is written for you, but it’s also written for me. It’s written for me to put these thoughts and feelings and messiness in words, so I can try to understand just what it is I feel.

I tried reaching back out, one last time; and while I said that my offer was open-ended, that you could take all the time you wanted before responding - if you decided to respond, rather than ignoring me - I know better than to hope.

I love the idea of leaps of faith, of throwing aside ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’, but I thought that when I decided to broach my stupid question that night so many years ago; and I thought the same when I tried desperately reaching out the start of the next semester, desperately hoping that the month away from school had led to a change in your thoughts or decision.

I asked for C to reach out to you because I figured they would be able to get my message to you, and because you knew my sister too. I came to school knowing you; and I came knowing C and KB too - though I still kick myself over not having gotten their numbers like I got yours, that time we first met; what might have been, had we all been in contact for a full year? ...I guess that’s just another might-have-been - but I met my sister that first week of classes, and so too you knew her for just as long as I did.

I always wanted to have a true and proper ‘friend group’; I always wanted my close friends to be close friends with each other. So, you knew her too, from that first week. Perhaps not as close to her as I was; but you knew my sister from that first week too.

Despite what your friendship became, no matter the shape or the strength of that connection, I would be surprised if you weren’t grieving her too. That’s why I tried reaching out, one last time.

I do still wonder, what it was I did. What it was that meant even now, we can’t come together to properly grieve her; what it was that led you to break ties in the way you did.

And too, I do still wonder what I would do if we re-established communication after all this time; when I gave grieved for how our friendship ended, nearly three times longer than the friendship’s lifespan itself. What would I do, if I saw a text, a voicemail, a Messenger post from you? What would I do if C told me you had a message to convey to me?

But beyond that, you knew her as long as I did: you knew my sister from the first week of our freshman year. And so, I wanted to grieve with you; to set aside whatever it was that caused the rift between us, to come together so we could properly mourn the loss of one of the people we had departed from that first exploration of the abandoned crematorium, that first Urbex trip of our first week of our freshman year.

I reached out, through our mutual friend, and I knew even while I did so that I’d just get silence. I write this mostly to vent, to get my thoughts in order, to try and process just why I still grieve a friendship that has been dead nearly three times as long as the friendship’s lifespan...but I also hope in my heart-of-hearts that you’ll somehow see this, and that I’ll finally hear from you again. To yell at me, to try and figure out how to grieve this loss together, to try and figure out who we are four and a half years down the road and if that time has made it worthwhile to try and mend bridges after so long: I don’t know what would happen, or what I’d want to happen. And so, it is just as it is named: ‘a note, to someone I once loved’, because even while I know you’ll never read this, that it’s for my own benefit, I do hope otherwise.

I know that it won’t happen: life isn’t a story like that.

(I’ve been telling myself that from a month onward, a semester onward, a year onward.

Perhaps some day I’ll actually believe it.)

I reached out through that mutual friend - and I apologize to you, C, if you read this; I apologize for putting you in that awkward position, and for whatever feeling of conflict or discomfort reading this may cause - and I said in the message I asked to be passed on that I won’t try any more.

It’s been four and a half years, since you broke ties. The world seems like its ending, in a way. One of my oldest and best friends - who may not have been close to you, but was still an old connection - has been dead for little over a month.

If time hasn’t healed wounds enough-

-if current events shouting ‘if not now, then when?’ still leaves you choosing ‘not now’-

-if the offer to grieve together for a mutual friend doesn’t hold any weight for you-

then nothing will ever bridge the gap, will it?

So, yes. I might still grieve the loss of my oldest friendship, as well as whatever happened that I still puzzle to truly understand; and I might bitch to the universe in a public way, as this accounts for; but I won’t try and reach out any more.

I told you, as the next semester started, and you barely reacted to my interaction with you: “I don’t understand what happened, but I’ll honor your wish to be left alone.”

I did so for the rest of our time at school, despite the constant conflicting feelings that wished for something to change; and I broke my promise only now, after all this time, partly to offer support in face of grief and partly to try and finally get closure on something that has caused so much pain and confusion and heartbreak. But I’ll keep to my promise: I won’t reach out again.

...I guess I lied, in a way. I titled this ‘to someone I once loved’, but that’s not entirely true.

To an extent, I don’t love you. Your actions may have been understandable, if I was ignorant enough as to how my behavior could have been an issue; I was truly an oblivious numbskull, so it is possible that cutting me off was the objectively right - or at least, an understandable - choice. But they still hurt, hurt so bad, I think I’m right to somewhat hate you for it, even as I simultaneously don’t blame you for making an action which you thought was best for yourself; and so there is an undercurrent of pain, of rage and hate and ‘how could you?’, threaded through the emotional distance that comes from not having interacted with you for so long.

But you were, in some ways, my first best friend; and in that way, I loved you as someone loves a person who they think of as their closest and dearest friend, loved as the first person to truly fit that role inside my life.

I don’t think I can ever stop loving you. I don’t think I can ever stop hoping you’ll reach back out, some day: whether just to explain what happened before blocking me back out, or just to grieve together before blocking me back out, or to see if we can try to rebuild a tentative new friendship after so many years of growing beyond who we had been in that first semester of freshman year.

I know that leaps of faith never work for me. And I’m not going to leap; not again.

But, I guess despite my endless anxious pessimism, I can’t help but keep hoping.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

CW: transphobia, homophobia. Also pretty long and I'm on mobile so I cant put a read more thing on it.

Ok so this is kind of a personal post so if you don't wanna hear about some of my personal drama, just scroll along. But I feel like I need to get this shit on record somewhere since I don't have the screenshots of the texts this is concerning anymore.

So a little over a year ago, I told the person who'd been my best friend, we'll call her E, since I was about 9 that I didnt want to be friends with her anymore. More on that later.

Back in senior year of high school I started thinking I might be Bi. I brought this up to E and she was super dismissive right off that bat. Saying that I wasnt, sounding like she was trying to console me. Like being Bi was this awful thing that I needed to worry about.

Well fast forward about a year and a half and I went up to my college with her so I could do new student orientation since I was starting the next semester. This is when the fact that I was Bi sort of smacked me in the face because the girl doing my orientation was super hot. I immediately knew I wouldnt be telling E that.

Fast forward to march of 2017. Its spring break. I've reconnected with my high school friends. I've never felt the need to hide my sexuality from them and they were instantly nothing but supportive of me. We never really hung out outside of school back in high school (or in elementary school either in Eric's case.) I start realizing that I've been having more fun with them then I ever did with E. And I finally had people to geek out about sciencey stuff with because E doesnt believe in science but eric LOVES science. It was nice.

Well a couple weeks after spring break me and Es mutual friend Althea asked me to drive her to the shelter so she could get her boyfriends cat fixed (it's way cheaper there then at the vet) and spent the day hanging out with her because she WAS planning to walk back there to pick up the cat afterwards and I was like "uh no. I'm not gonna make you walk across town by yourself." So I finally got to meet her boyfriend. Well that afternoon E came and picked me up to go up to the KU campus to get some more bus passes to go to our college in KC because our school was out of bus passes and didnt know when theyd get more.

Here's when I kinda started to realize I should maybe get out of this friendship. On the way to campus E starts telling me about her day at school and how "theres a girl that used to be a guy in one of my teachers other classes. It's making me uncomfortable."

Me: "that sounds like a you problem, E."

Now I knew she kind of thought that way already. She may not have said shit like that around our other friends but I had to hear it a lot. But because I'm pretty nonconfrontational and she was my only close friend outside of school and I was terrified of being alone, I usually just ignored it or politely debated her about it but generally just agreed to disagree. This was the first time I ever decided to speak up to her about it. Unfortunately I couldnt say much cuz her mom was the one driving us and i knew she agreed with everything E said.

But I'd been hanging out with althea and her boyfriend (who just so happened to be trans) all morning so suddenly having to hear E talk about how uncomfortable trans people make her got me more fired up than usual.

After this I slowly started distancing myself from her. I'd been hoping for a few years that she'd grow up and accept that not everyone is like her and try to be more open minded and accepting of people. Apparently that wasnt happening.

I stopped responding to her texts as often. I was trying to think of a way to talk to her about it but all my past friendships that fell apart, did so naturally and on a silent mutual agreement. So I was half hoping that would happen. Pretty stupid. Dont recommend. Just be straight with people.

After a few months of me only answering her texts every once in a while, she decided to start calling me multiple times a week. Often while I was at work. Sometimes from her mom and sisters phones when I wouldnt answer from her number. Idk y she thought that would work. She knows I hate talking on the phone.

I still didnt know what to say to her. I probably should've just told her I needed some space and she might've backed off for awhile so I could figure it out. But subway stressed me tf out. And i have no idea how you're supposed to end a relationship with your best friend of over 10 years.

(Also some of my other reasons for not wanting to be friends with her were specifically because of althea and I didnt want althea to get dragged into it. Unfortunately it ended up happening anyways. But basically back in highschool, if we were planning for all four of us (me, e, althea, and nikki) to get together, and nikki would have something come up, E would tell althea our get together was cancelled but would still have me come over and then made me promise not to say anything to althea about it.)

Around march or april of last year I blocked her family's numbers. This is when they started showing up at my work. The first time it happened I had a long ass line and was helping my coworker get through it before I left. Her sister came in by herself and just asked how I was doing but left pretty quick after she got her sandwich since it was busy. A couple more times they came and just parked outside like they were waiting for me to get off my shift but ended up leaving. The last time it happened E came in while I was there alone and I really didnt wanna have THAT conversation while i was at work alone and her crazy overprotective mom was out in the car waiting for her. So i made her sandwich very quickly so i could get her out as fast as I could.

I was planning on finally talking to her around the end of april but was still having trouble figuring out what to say.

Unfortunately any plan I had to let her down easy was sort of thrown out the window on may 13th of last year.

My mom texted me that morning about how she got a weird call from Es aunt. On her work phone. This is basically how that call went:

"IS THIS OLIVIAS MOM?????"

My mom, suddenly worried it's my work and something happened to me, "Yes?"

"Why isnt olivia talking to E anymore?"

"............I dont know."

So that kind of crossed a line for me. It really freaked my mom out.

I'm bad at articulating my thoughts when I'm mad or stressed out tho. So my friend Alice ended up writing out the text for me and I read through it to make sure it was ok.

Basically it said "I'm sorry but I dont think we can be friends anymore. The way you talk about the LGBT+ community makes me extremely uncomfortable, especially seeing as I am bisexual and have several friends in the community. The way you used to exclude althea from hanging out with us because you think shes annoying and then expect me to lie to her about it makes me uncomfortable. It was inappropriate to show up at my work unannounced to corner me into talking to you when I needed space. And it was even more inappropriate for your relatives to call my mom at work. I'm sorry I didnt say something sooner but I'm tired of pretending I'm ok with everything you've said over the years."

Then her mom texts me. I dont remember all of it but the gist was "you're a horrible person. E never judged you or anyone else (sure, miss "gay people are gross. I can see how conversion therapy might work." Totally isnt judging anyone and 100% cares about the lgbt+ community.) The only reason she did those things is because she was worried about you."

Then E left me a voicemail that I couldnt understand at all cuz she was crying and I felt terrible even tho everyone was telling me I shouldn't. Now I probably should've taken out the part about althea because it effectively threw my "not wanting to get althea involved" plan out the window. Honestly what really pissed me off about this next part both made me pissed at E but also at myself. E removed herself from the group chat I had with her, nikki, and althea. Blocked althea on Facebook and blocked her number. Didnt bother to explain why. I still feel terrible about this even tho althea has told me many times that it's fine and if she'd had to pick a side she wouldve picked mine. But I still felt like she at least deserved an explanation.

Alice told me to screenshot the texts. I almost didn't cuz I just wanted to forget about all this. But I did.

Anyways life moved on. Eric got a new phone and gave me his beat up galaxy s7. I stuck my s6 into a drawer and let it die and forgot about it.

Then on new years I got a call from althea. Not weird at all. She calls me every major holiday and birthday. Shes done this every year since junior year of high school.

Normal phone call at first. But then she says that her mom has been talking to E's mom. Apparently E's mom told altheas mom that I told E that althea hates her and thinks shes a terrible person and that's why E hasnt been talking to althea. Althea of course didnt believe that but wanted me know about it. This prompted me to try and charge up my old phone and get the screenshots off of it. I had it plugged in for a couple of days and it never turned back on. So that's out apparently.

That's also why I felt the need to get all of this written down. It may not be as great as having the actual screenshots but I'm bad at articulating my thoughts when confronted so I want to have something written down in case any of this comes up again.

[kansascityhappenings]

Local family of 6 might be homeless for the holidays after getting hit by fake rental scam

KANSAS CITY, Mo. — A Kansas City family of six might be homeless for the holidays after a scammer targeted them and took hundreds of dollars, too.

“Obviously he needed the money more than we did,” victim Yesenia Valdespino said, “but he did leave us in a big bind.”

In a bind and out $600 after the family put down what they thought was a deposit to rent a home located at 10324 Oakland Ave., Kansas City, Mo.

The scammer even told them to go check out the property, without going inside, and sent a fake lease agreement.

Then, Valdespino felt comfortable sending the money through a payment app called Zelle.

“It says payments sent,”  Valdespino said, “and it had John Myers.”

But the real owners and property manager said they’ve never heard of a John Meyers.

KC Home Rental Property Management told FOX4 that’s their rental listing, but they’ve never posted it on RealRentals.com — where Valdespino saw it.

“Having somebody taking money like we work for,” Valdespino said, “that’s a pretty big amount for people that don’t have money.”

Valdespino and her husband have four children under the age of seven. She said not only does Christmas look bleak, but they struggle to pay for diapers, rent and utilities.

“We try not to let it affect them, but it does,” Valdespino said.

The whole reason they moved to Kansas City was to be closer to Children’s Mercy. Their 2-year-old has infantile scoliosis.

“We don’t want to ask for anything. But at this point, being left with nothing, it’s really taken a lot.”

Valdespino filed a police report and told the scammer she did so.

“And then he says, ‘Okay good. Try to also contact Donald Trump,'” she said.

When FOX4 tried to call “Myers,” no one answered and there was no voicemail available to leave a message.

“I just wish that he would come out and say I’m sorry,” Valdespino said, “and not keep doing it to others.”

The family has started a GoFundMe page. Valdespino said they’re only hoping to raise enough money to cover what they lost in the scam.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/12/11/family-of-6-might-be-homeless-for-the-holidays-after-getting-hit-by-shady-rental-scam/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/12/12/local-family-of-6-might-be-homeless-for-the-holidays-after-getting-hit-by-fake-rental-scam/

[eyesofbluebitch]

🧸(Big blue eyes plushie! 💙)

Thud!

Suddenly a rather large BEWD plushie had been dropped before the CEO. It had been a ridiculously busy morning already, with iPad and stylus in hand the brunette lifted his head from his desk with a loft of brow at the noise. Said erected brow rose higher as he noticed Roland standing by a stuffed dragon, his favorite dragon of course.

Roland straightened his shades and tie before speaking and when he did you could tell he was holding back an exasperated sigh.

“Ahem, ANOTHER one has arrived for you sir.”

Roland swore it was like Valentine’s Day everyday sometimes when all these Blue-Eyes White Dragon gifts were sent to Seto on any given occasion. Even so, despite having a literal shrine by now of just the plushies he gets no less excited about every one.

“I swear some of these people may need to just come out with a marriage proposal at this rate.” Roland piped up.

“Who’s it from?” Seto asked, his stoned faced facade a bit softer but still holding it’s seriousness.

“There was no card unfortunately.” Roland replied.

With a casual shrug of those large shoulders of his the billionaire proceeds to discard his tablet and stylus on his desk before lifting from his chair.  Walking around the desk and examining it. With a little too much joy for Roland to be watching, so he simply shooed him away. Once Roland was nice and out of earshot behind a closed door he picked up the plushie. Giving it a tight squeeze and hug before taking it to its new home within the room full of other BEWD merch his fans had gotten him.

[eyesofbluebitch]

“You have my whole heart.” - Atem~

Seto's eyes widened to their stretching capacity hearing Atem's confession. Those sapphires made of his default cruelty and rage softening immediately. The burning passion he held locked away in his core for the man before him betraying him as it swam to the surface. ❝ I will spend an eternity loving you, caring for you, showing you every day that I hold you as high as the stars. ❞ The CEO responded, sweeping down to one knee, whilst grasping the Pharaoh's hand. Thin lips parting to lay the most delicate of kisses to the back of his palm in homage to his KING. ❝ And you have my entire soul. ❞ 

[eyesofbluebitch]

Hello, I just want to warn you about a lot of people who want to interact with you, especially veloursnoirs. I won't say who I am due to this groups reputation of going after others but I was once a member of the discord server Duelist Manor and well they had an entire section to talk shit about people and you were a main vocal point. Seeing veloursnoirs contacting you and being sweet while she was one of the main people behind it...I just wanted to give you the heads up my man.

I do find it interesting that you -whoever- you are, think that they would be allowed back on my list if I didn't in fact know all about those little servers and who said what about me. Velour and me have already discussed everything in detail. That being said, all of the people that have come to me that were involved in that little drama shit show did so off of anon. I don't take the word of someone who won't reveal their identity. Velour helped me secure my url back that alone gets her a spot back on my list.

[eyesofbluebitch]

"Seto? I got something for you."

The billionaire lofted a brunette brow in her direction — casting those stunning sapphires down at her. ❝ Oh? And what might that be, hm? ❞ Seto purred, letting his lips weave that same suggestive smirk that made her weak in the knees.

[eyesofbluebitch]

🥊

Seto lofted a brow in extreme exaggeration as Rex appeared to want to... fight him? Muscular arms moved to fold across his chest in his defiant default posture. ❝ You must be joking... ❞ The muscular billionaire began giving his unlikely friend a chance to back out, though it seemed the dino lover was serious. Seriously drunk perhaps. Either way — those ripped arms of his unfolded, letting his body slide into a professional boxing stance that revealed un-shockingly, Seto had some serious training. The best that money could buy. After all how else would he get his pent up rage out? Seto's taller and much bigger body easily dwarfed the shorter male, overshadowing him entirely. Suddenly the brunette's muscular arm thrust forward with blinding speed, shockingly so for such a massive arm. The same arm that housed that crushing domination and power as he aimed for the dino dork's face. Only when his knuckles nearly grazed Rex's jawline did he pivot his arm so his fist slammed into the wall just a hairs height above his shoulder. The impact of his fist into the walls foundation sending it splintering into spiderweb like cracks under the brute strength of the blow. A moment of silence was given to the other man before Seto looked down on him. ❝ Go smoke some weed Rex. I'll break you in half some other day. ❞

[eyesofbluebitch]

What would you consider is the most challenging aspect that comes with writing your character?

Hm. This is a interesting ask to get. Seto doesn't really challenge me much at all to be honest. It's as natural as breathing to me. Which is why he's my only muse besides my ffxiv character. I feel entirely at home writing him to the point all the extra elements that bring him to a hyper realistic level and not just a cookie-cutter anime clone of Kaiba that I'm most known and loved for is rather effortless as well. It just clicks like a fitting puzzle piece. That being said I think the most challenging part of writing my character with others that don't know me very well is the fact that people get mixed up because I'm just like him oocily personality wise and I think people expect this super soft girl to be writing him or something which isn't the case lol. Which is why we fit together so well because I don't have to act entirely out of my personality to act the way Seto would lol. I'm a bit of an ass and hothead myself. That and the whole everyone wants the bad boy cos hot but expect him to be some soft reformed Yugi clone that I will absolutely never write him as. So getting to a romantic and deep relationship in a ship with my Seto is pretty hard because a lot of people don't have the balls to stick around and dig until they get to the soft gooey center more or less. Which is a shame because he loves so fiercely once he allows himself to accept that. So despite wanting a deep romance on him at a base level he normally just stays under the Bachelor/Playboy trope.

[eyesofbluebitch]

The intimidation ask~

Mun: Honestly when we met? 10/10 lol I was always a bit nervous when talking to you but then the more we talked and got to know each other the more that intimidation went away so right now? Liiiike 2/10. To me you're a sweetheart <3

Muse: Does Kina think Seto is intimidating? Hmmm a little bit. He's tall, aggressive and strong, but getting a dragon to admit that is difficult lol. A 5/10

I think this is a bit biased since you're dating me irl but fair hahaha.

[eyesofbluebitch]

☕

❝ Are you ready to go then? ❞ The infamous Seto Kaiba himself stood waiting by his company limousine at the appointed location Hikaru and himself had prior agreed upon as a rendezvous spot. He had chipped away a hour out of his insanely busy schedule to take the blonde out for coffee. There was a Starbucks nearby, she was easy on the eyes, and it was a relatively nice day with mild weather, so he figured what was the harm in a little break this morning.

[eyesofbluebitch]

“Whose blood is that?”

❝ The blood of my enemies. ❞ Seto responded. A dead serious gleam in those domineering sapphires. Though thanks to Seto's personality of course he could have been joking and talking smack like usual. Throwing shade to the horde of peasants that lined up to hate on his dick at every single moment he did anything ever. Or

he could be foreshadowing that he just finished dealing with a mafia hit and hadn't realized the victim's spilled essence had got on his face. Either way, a deft thumb moved to swipe the crimson stain from his chiseled jawline before fetching some hand sanitizer out of his coat pocket. Thoroughly cleansing his hands and then dabbing a bit at his jaw he looked all business.  Slender fingers moved to straighten his tie that matched his pinstripe sapphire Armani suit. It was more than likely the latter was the explanation.

[eyesofbluebitch]

“I know you can manage it, you just don’t *have* to.”

Those words while to most people would be those of comfort —  he was a bit more complex. Being a man entirely obsessed with having absolute and total control over his life, accepting help or support from anyone was a concept that left the CEO feeling exposed and less of a man, and so he refused. Even when it came to pain, he wanted to feel the things he did —   as his scars scorched and burned, they were his scars. He was his scars. They reminded him where he came from, and the obstacles; the few that stood in his way, he needed to overcome.

❝  Yes, I do and I will. ❞  A curt utterance was offered to the stranger before him before turning his back on the person and walking away.

[eyesofbluebitch]

"Hold this for me." Atem comes up to Seto's side, fingers already gripping his hand. What is he asking him to hold? His hand of course! - Atem <3

❝ As if you need ask... ❞ The CEO's long, muscular arm extended, flawless, slender fingers moving to lace betwixt the Pharaoh's. The largeness of his hand dwarfing the King's as he tightly encased the other. Their opposite complexions of skin melding together as opposing as their entire personalities.