#late as ever but once again i fell asleep while drawing

[porcarmenmiamor]

finally returning to punchtober and combining two prompts: day 17 (narcis prince) + day 18 (vulnerability)!

[flamestar126]

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request some domestic Ford x Reader headcanons? Just how they would live together either before portal or after the portal (or both hehe). Ty!

Given how dedicated Ford is to his work, it’s more often then not did you find him sleeping on or in places he probably shouldn’t, you’d try and make his position a little more comfortable by covering him with a blanket or putting a pillow or two under his head in hopes of preventing a crooked neck.

You’d press a kiss to the top of his head and whispered sweet dreams to him, unknown to you that after everything with Bill Ford had became a light sleeper, and so would feel touched whenever you take care of him in small but meaningful ways.

This sweet yet insufferable nerd would find himself captivated by you so much doing mundane things that he ends up drawing them in his note book subconsciously. So much to the point where when he pulls himself out of his own mind, he finds several two page spreads dedicated to you feeding stray cats, talking and or playing with Dipper and Mabel, giving Waddles a bath, or just you standing in the kitchen first thing in the morning looking haggard but beautiful none the less.

Physical touch is his love language followed by acts of service to make up for the fact that he spends most of his time in the lab more so then by your side like he should as your partner. you knew how much his work meant to him but Ford could clearly see the glimmers of his neglect within your eyes when you tell him you understand that his work was high priority.

It hurt him to know that he was the one causing the distance between you two and he felt as though you shouldn’t compromise yourself just to better suit him and his wants and needs. So he’ll always try to make up for his neglect and try to spend his mornings with you by making you breakfast and bring it to bed for you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. Ford only wanted to repay you for being there for him while condemning himself for not tearing the favour.

‘Normally you’d be in the lab by now.’ You pointed out as you watched as he slipped back into bed with you, something he rarely did since he was more often than not fast asleep on that makeshift bed down in the lab.

Ford feels just how cold his side of your supposedly shared bed was and could only imagine the amount of times where you’ve fell asleep alone, dreaming of the day where he’d come up and join you, only to frequently be greeted with the sight of an empty and cold mattress instead of him.

Why he never comes to your shared room was a mystery to even himself as he felt it went a lot deeper then him just being sleepy, was it because he didn’t feel as though he should share a bed with you after the amount of times he has neglected you for his work? Possibly but he wanted to change that and stop being absent in your relationship.

‘I fear I haven’t been the best of romantic partners as of late and for that I must apologise and make things right by you.’ He replied and you placed a hand over his own, squeezing it reassuringly. ‘I won’t disagree with you there but please take your time Ford, I’m not going anywhere.’ You tell him softy and Ford was once again proven why he didn’t deserve you nor your kindness.

So Ford would slowly start to do things for you that he knew you were less then wanting to do unless it was the last resort whether it be washing the dishes or tying your shoes when the laces come undone and you huff in annoyance. Anything that maybe an inconvenience to you Ford will do for you instead so that you don’t have to bother with it.

He’s got a good memory and knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand and he treasures this knowledge greatly, no notebook needed when it comes to you that you feel seen and loved whenever he remembers the little bits about you that would go over someone’s head.

Like how you like your morning drink, how you like your sandwiches cut, your favourite flower, your favourite memory-which was of the time the Mabel drew on him and thrown glitter on his red turtleneck while covering his hands in her sticker collection- and how you loved to steal his turtlenecks because you miss him whenever he’s in the lab.

So he starts to leave his favoured red turtleneck where he knows you frequent as he hides nearby to watch you smile softly and wear the turtleneck for the rest of the day. Whatever made you happy made him happy in return, being in a relationship with him may have not been that easy but he thanked you for staying with him when you could’ve left him.

Listens to you speak and could listen to you talk the day away and it could pertain to anything and everything, Ford just likes hearing you speak passionately about things you loved or have experienced while out in town and come home just to tell him. So much so that he gets this look in his eye whenever you speak about your daily activity that you’d have to stop and ask; ‘what’s with that look in your eye?’

He doesn’t understand what you meant by that and asks himself; ‘what look my dear?’

You: the one that you get whenever you’re really interested in what I’m saying, even if it’s boring.

Ford: because what you’re saying is investing to me, even if it may seem boring to you but to me I’m just being feed more reasons why I adore you.

You burrow your head into the Turtleneck you stole from him because of the feelings he brought out within your chest.

You would return the favour by listening to him speak his mind about the oddities of Gravity Falls in depth and his theories about how many more of them could be out there, waiting to be discovered and documented. He even told you about the time he drop kicked Gnomes once, the mental image of it made you laugh.

Ford is a bit of a homebody when it comes to date nights, not for any reason in particular, other than the fact he wanted to be focused on you and only you. So Mabel helps him plan for these dates in extensive detail, even if it was written in glittery pink gel pen. Most of the time you spend it on the roof of the shack where you can watch the stars come out while enjoying the others company.

It wasn’t much but it was much to you and Ford as you rest your head on his shoulder, take in the fact that he was here with you and inevitably fall asleep on his shoulder after he rests his head atop of your own, whispering sweet dreams to you this time before he manages to carry you back to bed; where this time he joins you and brings you into his arms tightly before falling asleep himself, warning his side of the bed at long last.

Also you probably have to patch him up after he goes out monster hunting, the man maybe smart be he’s often times reckless with himself. Also kiss his scars please he’ll love you for infinity if you did so, and also kiss his hands for he had gotten unnecessarily picked on about and call them his unique gift that he shouldn’t be ashamed of, you thought having six fingers was cool. You’ll have that man melting faster then butter if you do and you get to see his hardened face become soft and tender that you can’t help but smother in kisses.

[daenysx]

i wanted to try writing something for robert, i don't know if it's good but i think it has a potential to be nice. i'd like it very much if you tell me what you think but it's okay if you don't <3333

robert fischer x fem!reader

imagine sitting on the comfiest couch in robert's home and waiting for him to arrive. he texted earlier so he should be here in a few minutes. he still keeps the blanket you love so much on the couch, you can just take it and wrap yourself into it. you don't want to fall asleep before he gets here but it's so difficult-

his keys jingle. only you and him. he opens the door, his suit jacket unbuttoned. his perfectly stilled hair almost starting to get messy. it's a late night, he likes the lights low. he exhales. it's nice to be alone with you.

his cheekbones are prominent as he smiles. he's such a good looking man, you kinda lose sleep over it. his eyes are a piercing blue, you can swear they got tiny sparkles in them as robert approaches to your couch.

"hey." you murmur with a lazy smile. he smiles back, just as tired as you. "hi, handsome."

he extends a gentle hand to yours, stroking the back of your fingers. "hey." he whispers, leaning to give you a kiss. then he stands straight again, taking a look around the big room.

you tuck your fingers to his belt loops. pulling him softly to yourself, you watch him watch you through teasing eyes. your fingers stroke his tired body through his clothes, it's not an initiating touch and robert knows it. he lets you pull him to yourself once more, surrenders and settles down next to you.

"i should change my clothes." he says, you are getting ready to snuggle into him. "my shirt probably smells like smoke."

"it's okay." you tell him. "can we stay here for a while? if you don't mind?"

he nods. when has he ever said no to you? it's so easy, to put your head on his chest and close your eyes. robert is not hesitant with his touches anymore, his fingers are familiar on your back as he draws slow circles. you want him to kiss you. you want him to hold you and let you sleep here with him. maybe he wants it too. you hope he does.

"don't fall asleep." he says with a soft voice. "you haven't eaten anything."

"not hungry." you murmur.

"sweetheart."

"just- don't wanna eat yet." you soften with the endearment. "later, please."

robert hums. it's actually really nice like this, the quietness of big walls and his hands on you. he thinks he adores the way your body snuggles to him. his muscles ache to hold you tighter. this is where he was meant to be.

his pretty eyes betray him and close on their own. his breaths get even, heartbeat steady, hands still on you. you'll tease him about it later, how he fell asleep before you. for now, you decide to stay until he wakes up. he needs to get some sleep, anyway.

[thornsnvultures]

pride

lee bodecker x wife!reader

cw: 18+ nsft, smut, p in v sex, creampie, lee being a neglectful husband at first, 640 w

a/n: something short and sweet for @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event. I missed writing for Lee and wanted to write a smutty little fluff piece for him 🖤

-----

"I'm the luckiest man on earth."

At first you weren't sure that you heard him right. Lee didn't talk much when he was fucking you, at least not lately. For a while he would just get his rocks off and roll off you, immediately falling asleep while you laid there and stared at the ceiling until you fell asleep.

God only knows how long it's been since Lee talked to you sweet at all. But it happened in every marriage, the eventual slough off into the mundane, right? No more flowers or date nights. No more Lee taking his sweet time with your body like he used to. You almost didn't want to jinx it by asking him to repeat himself, afraid of breaking whatever spell had been cast that brought the old Lee back to you.

But he broke it for you.

"You know why I'm lucky, sweetheart?" His big hand brushes your cheek, turning your head on your pillow so he could see your face. His hips had stilled as he looked at you, those bright blue eyes roaming your face. He was waiting for you to answer.

"W-why?"

Lee leans over you, draping his big body across your back, his belly pushing into the dip of your arched spine, and kisses your cheek. The angle pushes his cock into your inner walls and you gasp, squeezing a groan out of your man.

"Cause I got a pretty little thing like you in my bed, that's why."

"Oh, Lee."

Your husband presses more kisses along your jaw as he grinds his cock into that same spot. You're on fire, your insides lighting up like a fire doused in gasoline.

"M'sorry I haven't been takin' care of you like I should, darlin'. Not when you take such good care of me." Lee's words whispered in your ear sends shivers down your spine.

"It's alright-"

"It's not-," Lee growls, shooting up straight and drawing his cock out almost all the way only to slam it back in with a harsh slap that makes your teeth rattle in your head. "It's not alright."

Lee grabs your hips, gripping your soft flesh as he pounds into you.

"You're my wife," he growls again as his hips set a punishing pace. You can barely breathe, gasping and whining as you scramble for purchase on soft sheets so he doesn't fuck you into the headboard. "My perfect, sweet little wife. With the sweetest little pussy I've ever known." He punctuates nearly every word with a thrust of his hips, his cock bullying your tight walls in the most delicious way.

"I couldn't be any more proud of you, darlin'," he says as he drops to a hand by your head so he can reach under you, reach that aching bud that'll push you over the edge, the one he's ignored for way too long. "Couldn't be any more proud to call you my wife."

Lee's thick fingers circle your clit and within seconds you're crumbling, crying out and shaking to pieces as you come around his cock. Moments later Lee's right there with you, shouting into the nape of your neck as his balls empty, filling you near to burst with his sticky cum.

"I'm sorry I haven't been treatin' you right, darlin'," Lee tells you again when he comes back to bed later with a warm, wet washcloth. "Been so busy at the station and I got the election coming up," Lee sighs and shakes his head. "But I won't let it happen any more."

"You mean it, Lee?"

Once you're clean he wraps you up in his arms, his big hands rubbing your back as you settle into his chest.

"I said it once and I'll say it again," Lee smiles, "I do. Cause you're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me."

---

--

-

🖤

[saltymongoose]

Hi coming in with another silly idea Imagine that the Player is in early Nevada, and around the time Nexus is supposed to fall they fall into a type of coma. Jeb goes through with his plan (painfully without the player by his side), Hofnarr turns into Tricky with his last thoughts begging for the Player to come back. Phobos' fight being much more easy due to the fact he thinks his god abandoned him. Then the Player comes back like "hey sorry about that" and Jeb starts wailing while Tricky goes YIPPEE and runs around them like an excited dog.

Why is everything you draw so cute omg 😭, everyone is so adorable here. It's honestly a little weird to see the Employers look so huggable, I love it.

To actually get into the scenario though, my thoughts on this are far too long to make it into a normal ask response, so you're getting some sort of unofficial hcs instead lol. Enjoy!

<The Player Falls into a Coma before the Fall> ft. Jebus, Hofnarr/Tricky, the Employers & Phobos

(TW: Yandere)

There was no warning for your sudden coma whatsoever. At most, you felt a tad more exhausted than usual at the end of the day, but this can be attributed to many different things, so of course you wouldn't worry about it. Neither would anyone else either, for that matter.

You had absolutely no idea that when you slowly fell asleep that night, you wouldn't be waking up again for a very long time.

It certainly wouldn’t take long for those you know to find out about your condition either. For one, Hofnarr and Jeb would want to recap their plan with you before going through with it, so naturally they stopped by for that. However, they find you unconscious and completely unresponsive to their every attempt to wake you. To make matters worse, there isn't a sign that you'd been awake at all in the past few days; the buildup of dust on your furniture and the letters in your mailbox shows as much.

Despite their worry, they’d eventually have to leave your side, if only to get more medical supplies and other things to help you. This opens up a window for the others in your life to finally take action, those being the Employers.

The shadowy figures had been keeping tabs on you all the time, so when you just didn't wake up, they would probably be the first to know - even if their actions came second to the Nexus Scientist's.

(You didn’t send the Deliberator a “good morning” text and he started panicking. What could possibly be so bad that you didn't speak to him? A cursory call to the worried AAHW agents the Auditor had sent to tail you was proof enough that you'd deviated from your usual schedule, and you weren't the type to ever be late.)

They were quick to take you from your home and to a more secret place, so that they could keep close observation over you.

Honestly, despite how much the Employers might brag about knowing you better than anyone else (a privilege they gained from being the first to realize your existence), they truly know little about your anatomy. However, they can tell that sleeping for full days isn't normal at all, judging by your previous behavior.

They're also far too stubborn to ask any other mortals for help as well, so they simply resigned to try to help you themselves while keeping you safe with them. They couldn't do much else, so hopefully you'd understand that once you awoke in a strange place.

Nevada rots without your guidance and the grunts you were close to were left reeling by this (unintentional) abandonment you committed.

Phobos loses much of his drive due to his own emotional frailty as he grappled with his uncharacteristic self-doubt and questioning. As it happens, this also makes him more zealous as well. In his last moments, he has a second wind, believing that if he just fights hard enough, you might decide to come back and help him in his battle against Christoff. (But you don't. You couldn't.)

Jebus' feelings are surprisingly parallel to the Director's in terms of worship and near zealotry. Except, he believes it might be his fault that you left, which only increases the fervor he has to complete his plans. It will be painful without you there, but this agony is his repentance for the sins which he has wronged you with. It is only through this that he believes you might show your presence once more, even if it’s not now.

Unfortunately, Hofnarr's transformation into Tricky was just as painful as it would be otherwise, and the pain of abandonment just makes it worse. Funny, how the pictures taken of you with him and Christoff were miraculously unscathed within Hofnarr's lab even after Tricky came to be. The zombified clown must have found some value in them, even if he couldn’t remember the complete reason why he felt so warm when he looked at them.

Of course, you did actually awaken eventually. You had no idea how much time had passed when you woke up, so seeing the Employers look so uncharacteristically worried when you woke up was really odd. You honestly think they’d be weepy if they had the ability to cry.

You really didn’t know how to react to the news that you’d essentially been in a coma for thirty years. Your first course of action is to find Jeb and Tricky to find out what actually happened since you feared your early appearance might’ve had an impact on the timeline regarding Nevada’s fall. This leads to very different reactions.

Jeb isn't one to typically show much vulnerability, but seeing you again completely shatters those walls he's kept up for so long. At first, he thinks you're just a hallucination; the culmination of all the longing he has for you finally taking its toll on his broken mind as almost a cruel joke. 

The first words he speaks to you after thirty years is a short, "You're not real", said as more of an insistence to himself than anything. But when he comes closer and you don’t disappear, and he reaches out a trembling hand to rest lightly on your shoulder, and you stay, he just breaks. The warmth of your form washes over him like it used to, and suddenly he feels an uncomfortable tightness well up in his throat as tears gather in his eyes.

You reach up to hold his taller form closer to you, sinking to the ground with him as he buries his face into your neck and sobs. His hold on you is soft, and his hands are still shaky; he's holding you like he's scared of shattering you, and he only gets weaker when you whisper soothing words and apologies to him.

Compared to Jebus, your meeting with Tricky was a lot more upbeat. It’s probably because he was spared much of the reflection and sorrow that Jeb went through due to his rather unstable mental state, but that didn’t stop him from somehow recognizing you. It’s almost like a switch flipped in his mind, and he went from violently slamming his sign into some poor grunt's face to freezing at the sight of your face.

He then tosses the sign away and almost launches himself at you to envelop you in a tight bear hug, screaming excitedly while you grin back rather tiredly. (You hope your eardrums will be okay after this.) But in the next second, he's whirling away from you, flailing his hands as he continues to talk.

It’s like being greeted by your dog after being away for months; he never stops moving or asking hurried questions about where you’ve been, intermittent with little words about how much he’s missed you.

Both Jeb and Tricky are very clingy after this. Even if they don't get along now, they're not willing to let you leave their sides after this, especially not when you go to sleep. (What if you fall into a coma again? Someone has to be there to take care of you.)

Deep down, they also have a striking suspicion that someone was behind your coma. They didn't know who exactly, but there was no other explanation to them than this. How else would you, Nevada's most powerful being, fall into such a state?

(In the near future, when you come across Hank and the others, let's just say that your scientists won't be deterred from leaving your side quite so easily. You'd been gone for thirty years, so you should only expect their companionship to remain more permanent for the coming years.)

[k9wa]

𖧧 𓂃 12:32 AM with ran haitani.

⚠︎ tenjiku!ran, gn reader, probs ooc.

bzzt bzzt.

the vibration and quiet chime of the cell phone to your left pulled you abruptly from the warm embrace of sleep that had just begun to seep into your bones. the crack in the window allowed the night air to overtake the room, leaving a chill across your skin. falling asleep on top of your duvet left one bare and alone to fight against the fall temperature. the sun having taken rest from your corner of the world didn’t exactly aid in providing any warmth either.

sleepily reaching and feeling around for the small device that had disrupted you, your eyes squinted against the harsh light suddenly blasting your pupils, vision blurring and spotting as they took the extra couple seconds to adjust. 

with a huff out your nose and to the count of 3 in your head, out of bed you rolled. you rubbed at your eyes, a feeble attempt at getting them to refocus in the dark as you walked to the window to pull back the curtains. lo and behold, ran haitani was parked just outside, lazily leaning over his bike's handlebars. he gave the engine a rev when you made eye contact. loser.

making little haste, letting ran get just that much more chilly while he waited as a punishment for waking you up, you grabbed your coat and made your way out your front door. your hands fumbled with the keys a little in the darkness when locking the door.

ran watched as you trotted over to him, sitting up while that signature smirk of his came into your view.

“were you sleepin?”

an odd way of saying hello, haitani.

“how could you tell?”

ran kicked a leg over his seat to turn and face you, opening a perfect spot for you to stand just between his thighs. muscle memory did what it does best and brought his hands to their rightful spot on each of your hips. his thumbs teased the hem of your shirt, dipping underneath to rub your skin with uncharacteristic delicacy. his grin melted into one of fondness when your hands also found their place holding his biceps.

“cow lick.” he tilted his head up to gesture at the bump of hair on the side of your head you’d been laying down on. 

your right hand quickly abandoned its post to smack his shoulder and smooth out said hair— hair he hadn’t given you time to brush. it was his doing. deliberately. absolutely.

ran’s chest shook with a low chuckle, moving to help fix the area of frizz.

“what are you doin’ here?” you asked once satisfied with your hair. ran’s hand fell back down to your waist, drawing your body closer to his inch by inch.

“so i need a reason to come ‘n see you now? can’t just stop by to see yer pretty face?” 

“no. a reason for waking me up might be nice, though.”

his braids swayed as he shook his head. through wispy eyelashes and heavy eyelids ran studied you, losing himself in the alleviating quiet that came alongside silent admiration. apparently, he was lost in it long enough to warrant you cocking your head to the left and pinching his cheek to gain his attention.

“quit staring at me like a weirdo.”

ran’s chest rumbled again, the chuckle slipping past his lips. 

“can’t help it, try and quit bein’ so nice to stare at.”

before you could conjure up a response to continue any sort of banter, the hands on your hips pulled you forwards, and a pair of lips caught your own. ran grinned when he felt your hands slide up his arms to hold his jaw, welcoming your cold palms against his skin, and his front teeth nearly knocked against your own.

he held you there for as long as he could, against him, balancing on his bike, fog from hot breaths between kisses puffing into the air for as long as he could. it was only brought to an end because you remembered that, despite the late hour, you were in the middle of the street.

ran chased your lips once you’d pulled away, a thumb on the corner of his mouth gently pushing him back.

“you know, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”  he gave a melodramatic huff, rolling his eyes. ran haitani, ever the drama queen.

“i told you, i just wanted ta see ya. don’t need a reason other than that, pretty.”

ran threw a leg back over his bike, pushing the keys into the ignition and letting the engine come to life with a roar.

“‘m hungry, get on. we can hit the convenience store up the road.”

you squinted at him.

“i’ll buy you anything you want.”

you squinted more.

“and i’ll carry the bag.”

okay now come on, who would say no to that? 

you quickly hopped onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and wasting no time nuzzling into his scarf. for someone so lanky, he was surprisingly huggable.

“you know me so well, haitani.”

ran patted your thigh with the hand not holding his clutch, the wheels beginning to roll underneath you as you took off.

“i know you so well, pretty.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[cynosfunnyjokes]

morning sunlight

characters: tighnari and reader (collei mentioned)

relationship: tighnari x reader

genre: fluff. just fluff.

summary: soft mornings with tighnari were always the best

notes: wowwww sunny actually wrote fluff?? lost the 50/50 for blade so i wrote this to cheer myself up <3 no pronouns used for reader

word count: 664

soft mornings with tighnari were rare, but very much so welcomed.

due to his schedule with being a forest ranger, he was usually always busy- begrudgingly leaving early in the morning before you woke up and arriving home late in the night.

he couldn’t count how many times he had arrived home late to be greeted with the sight of you sleeping soundly on the couch; assumably having falling asleep while waiting for him.

he never failed to pick you up without complaint and carry you off to bed, keeping you close in his embrace before nodding off himself.

but there were days when collei insisted he took it off- convincing him with promises that she and the other rangers could handle it for the day.

and who was he to deny spending time with you?

the sun was rising, light peeking in through the windows and illuminating the room with soft warmth.

with a small yawn, your eyes peeked open, mind still hazy from sleep only to be greeted with the sight of your still-sleeping boyfriend.

tighnari was always so cute when he was asleep. and no matter how much he tried to protest, your opinion never changed. the way his ears twitched every so often and how his face always looked so calm- peaceful.

it was nice to see him so relaxed.

one of his hands held yours, fingers laced together loosely as his head rested on the soft pillow. he was curled on his side, facing your way.

staring at him in awe, you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing your hand up to his face, gently caressing his cheek. his skin was always so soft- it amazed you.

tighnari’s face twitched, his eyes slowly opening upon feeling your gentle touch on his face. a soft yawn left his lips as his ears twitched.

an adorable sight to behold.

seeing tighnari so sleepy in the morning was such a rare feat- but it was easily welcomed with open arms- to have such precious time with him?

you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

his own hand reached up to hold yours that was cupped his cheek, his thumb rubbing along your knuckles softly. “morning, dewdrop..”

archons, his morning voice was amazing.

with a soft smile, you rubbed your thumb gently against his cheek, “morning, nari.” you placed a soft kiss on his nose, drawing a small sigh from him.

suddenly, his arms curled around you, yanking you towards him as he buried his face into your hair. his body was warm- and he wasted no time as he tangled his legs with yours, tail curling around your waist with a small sigh.

you let out a surprised yelp, eyes growing wide as you were suddenly face to face with his chest- but you cuddled up to him regardless.

“you smell nice..” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into your hair, causing you to blush.

“nari..” you sighed, hands moving to gently grasp at his shirt, “shouldn’t we get up? it’s morning..”

“no.” tighnari gave a small noise of displeasure, arms tightening ever so slightly. “let’s stay like this a little longer.. i’ve missed you... please, flower?”

how could you deny him?

“of course.” you sighed, moving to press a soft kiss to his cheek before nuzzling back into his chest comfortably.

it didn’t take long before the room fell into a comfortable silence, both of you wrapped around each other- content and warm.

“i love you, nari..” you whispered, eyes growing heavy as sleep started to take over your mind once again.

“love you too, dewdrop..” his voice was laced with sleep, his eyes already closed as he rubbed his cheek against the top of your head.

his heartbeat was soft, filling your ears like music as you let out a soft sigh- it was so comfortable. his embraces were always ethereal.

the room was silent except for the sound of soft breathing as you fell asleep, comfortably nestled into each other’s arms.

[koco-coko]

When the World Exploded - - Vincent x Jean - Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> His eyepatch was off, and yet the world didn’t end. In fact, it began anew.

Tags/Warnings <--> Angst then Fluff, Lots of Cuddles and Kisses, Soft and Slow, Bad Cooking, Hidden Relationship, Beginning of Relationship, HEAVY SPOILERS for BOTH suitors, Main POV: Jean D'Arc, HEAVY Exploration of Depression, Passive Suicidal Ideation and Religious Guilt.

Word Count: 5,005 (Around 12 pages)!

A/N <--> this originally started as super fluff but boy oh boy I forgot how messed up these two were. Still super fluff but wow I may have gone a little overboard. So please don't force yourself to read this if you're really sensitive to these things, promise I won't be hurt by it <:)

i think they might like this: @azulashengrottospiano @natimiles @weirdwriter69 (lots of interaction with the jean x vincent posts so i thought i'd tag sorry if you didnt want to be)

Jean never expected to be here. Jean didn’t expect to be alive. Jean didn’t expect much of anything, really.

So imagine his surprise to remember that a blonde painter had arms tightly wrapped around his waist and kept drawing him closer into the scent of dry paint and sunflowers, a hint of pancake batter mixed in there, too.

Jean tried to move away, only to have the arm around him tense and pull him further in. A small hum came from the sleeping painter, his head resting on back of Jean's neck. He couldn’t help it when an uncomfortable shudder went through him. His lips were so close to his ear, the beating of his heart right against his back…

Sure, they agreed beforehand but he never expected this. A part of him wanted to escape. It was all too much, too new. Yet Vincent wouldn’t let him get away, and maybe that was for the better. Despite the blank face and cold demeanor, he was sensitive to many, many things. A case of touch-starvation didn’t help the fact. After a momentary inner conflict, Jean let out a deep sigh and dug his face into the pillow beside him. He could do it. He fell asleep like this once tonight, he could do it again.

He came to learn that there were a lot of firsts when being revived as a vampire.

It was the first time he ever felt attracted to someone, let alone a man.

It was only when Vincent started painting outside more often that Jean started feeling… things. Tingles in his stomach whenever he saw the man paint a dark night sky with swirls of light. Shakes when he caught glimpses of a notebook filled with anatomy practice and fencing positions, all suspiciously bearing a resemblance to Jean. It could be argued that a few were Napoleon, though. The lines were messy enough. These sensations started following him around the mansion, too. At the dinner table, he always felt lighter when he heard Vincent giggle at something Arthur said. Eventually, a simple greeting smile sent a shiver through the poor soldier’s body and all he could do was scuttle off into the piano room. 

Vincent was too radiant for a sinner to handle, he deduced. It seemed logical at the time. Jean’s chest was always empty and Vincent always had light to bring to someone. The world was a better place with Vincent in it and it was worse with Jean. That was just how things were. Jean was ready to accept that over… Well…

“Can I paint you?”

It was the first time anyone ever asked… that. Jean had been avoiding Vincent, more than usual, but one late night out of his room for a bottle of Rouge led to them meeting again. Vincent was already coated in paint, perhaps from a late night project, filling one of his paint cups with fresher water.

Jean was a frozen statue for a while, but when Vincent’s smile slowly faded, he suddenly came to. “Why me?” he asked, quietly.

Vincent looked to the side, the enthusiasm of the initial question trailing off. “I’ve never seen anyone like you?”

So unclean, full of sin and guilt?

“So… pretty?” 

Jean shifted on his feet uncomfortably, staring at the painter in front of him with wide eyes.

Vincent was quick to catch his mistake. “In a manly way! Very male-orientated. But beautiful and elegant, too! So, um, beautifully handsome? Does that make sense?”

Not at all. Jean felt his entire mind and body shut down, then come back, then shut down again. 

Beautiful? Handsome? Was this some sick joke?

“You didn’t drink that, did you?” Jean asked, shyly pointing to the paint-stained cup in his hands.

Vincent glanced down at it, then backed up. “No, I don’t believe so,” he almost chuckled, “Why would you think that?”

“You don’t seem in your right mind,” he responded. “I’m none of what you have described me as. I would suggest getting your eyes checked in the near future.” Jean turned to make his exit, bottle of Rouge in hand.

Vincent’s lips went ajar, blinking in disbelief. Then, he laughed. Jean froze. It was almost insulting to hear that. “Well, I don’t think so. I don’t know you too well, sure, but you seem nice.”

Those words sent butterflies through him.

Whenever Jean looked in the mirror, all he saw was a husk of a living being. He couldn’t say human anymore. He was ugly, inside and out. He longed for life, for warmth, comfort, yet every time it faced him, he ran away. God put him on this Earth to suffer in an endless cycle, yet he couldn’t break his piety to such a cruel deity. 

It was something he’d slowly started to accept– the emptiness was a part of his life. If death came to face him, like a fool, he’d fight it, only to realize that victory meant waking up to another day, only after the fact.

Then, an angel descended upon him. It smiled with bright light, with hair as gold as a halo and beamed at him with kind, blue eyes.

“I guess I’ll just ask again,” the angel asked, “Can I paint you sometime?”

Who was he, a mortal man with sins too heavy to weigh, to deny the messenger of God?

It was the first time he ever ‘modeled’ for someone. 

He never stopped by Vincent’s room for the specific purpose of sitting in a chair for hours on end (when they did try, it was so unpleasant that Jean almost fainted), but he visited on occasion.

Instead of modeling, Vincent would simply follow Jean around at random times with a sketchbook in hand, capturing moments of life in a still, pencil-drawn image. At the end of the day, when the stars twinkled in through Vincent’s window, Jean was invited in and the two chatted about the scenes the blonde had drawn.

“That’s not me,” Jean would say each time, “That man is too pure to be me.”

And every time, Vincent would shake his head and chuckle. “You should really start being nicer to yourself.” Vincent would then quietly whisper to himself, “Rich, coming from me of all people, but the advice still stands.” 

Jean never tried to respond to his extra comments, until one late evening– “Perhaps we both should.”

Vincent’s expression was unreadable as he silently flipped to the next page.

It was the first time someone tried to cook for him. Keyword: tried.

Everyone in the mansion began to notice that the most polar opposites of the mansion had so suddenly gravitated toward each other. Napoleon was surprised when Vincent first appeared at their sparring matches as a regular guest, but now? Why, now he was surprised not to greet him.

Mozart was the most confused, of course. A soldier and a painter? Really, what would they ever want to do with each other? Jean was such a recluse, too. What did Vincent say to him that made him stray from his hideaway room and weapons shop? Theodorus seemed to share this sentiment, trailing behind his older brother like a guard dog.

Still, it didn’t surprise anyone when Vincent wanted to make something for Jean’s birthday.

It did surprise Sebastian that same morning to find the kitchen in shambles. Vincent stood in the middle of it all, a fire blazing inside the oven. Apparently, he had tried to make a batch of macarons. 

It took the help of half the mansion to salvage what they could. When Jean was presented with burnt yet somehow undercooked macarons, he just… stared at them.

“How did you know I liked these?” he asked, trying to ignore the smoke coming from the kitchen area.

Vincent’s smile was drenched in embarrassment. “Ah, well, whenever we go to your shop together, I always see you looking at the macarons in the window displays. So, I just assumed you liked them. Glad you do! I would’ve looked silly if not…”

“Thank you.” Jean practically cut him off before he could say anything else. To show his gratitude, he took one from the pan and tossed it in his mouth. Vincent cringed.

The soldier’s eyes burst open with shock. It was so… mushy and crunchy and… How in God’s name could something like this even be created? It was a crime against pastries everywhere. 

“Sorry,” Vincent mumbled, “I’m not really a sweet’s fan, so…”

That was all it took to convince Jean to push through, swallowing the macaron (could you even call it that?) with much strain. 

“Don’t be. It’s the thought that matters,” Jean said, taking the tray from Vincent. “I… I’ll cherish this forever.”

Jean was looking down at the floor shyly, but he swore he saw a pink color grow on Vincent’s cheeks.

Later that night, he found a portrait of himself waiting by his door. In his critical eyes, it was too divine to look anything like him, but the distinctive stroke style made Vincent the clear painter. A note was attached to the bottom, reading:

“Happy birthday! Sorry for the macarons this morning. Maybe after you close your shop tomorrow, we can go to a bakery and get some non-burnt ones! We could bring them home for a tea party, if you’d like!

Also, I think I finally had enough sketches of you to make a painting, so here’s the finished thing! I hope you like it. I’d like to make more, if you’re comfortable with that

– Vincent Van Gogh”

Unfortunately, Jean wasn’t the most literate. He enjoyed the fact that with paintings, written words were unnecessary. It was a walk of shame to bring the note to Mozart so he could read it for him.

It didn’t completely miss him, though, despite his usual density. Vincent wanted to paint him more. An invitation for more time spent together.

When the fact hit him, Mozart had to double-take the smile he saw on his friend’s face.

It was the first time he ever kissed someone. 

Now, granted, he didn’t remember that until the next morning’s hangover passed. 

Jean was known to be insanely lightweight, so why he was given a glass of wine- no one knows. Unfortunately, his drunkenness often made him very… touchy. So when the mansion had a banquet drawn long into the night, Jean was practically laying on top of Vincent (much to Theo’s ire).

So, Vincent offered to bring Jean back to his room. His strength was only one factor in it, but Jean’s touchy-feely state made it a slight struggle to bring him into the room without losing his balance and being blinded by Jean’s clinginess. 

Vincent has an arm wrapped around Jean as they make their way into his empty room. “Jeanie!” Vincent yelped, “I’m trying to put you to bed!” Through his struggle, he was laughing. Drunken Jean thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. It also didn’t help that Vincent was feeling a bit tipsy, too. He couldn’t stop himself from giggling at the absurdity of Jean’s actions even when he was worried for him.

When Vincent finally managed to get Jean into his room without tripping over his feet for a fourth time, he was content to call it a night. Unfortunately, Jean did not. He latched onto his arm and wouldn’t let go. 

“Wait,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, “Please stay.”

Vincent couldn’t tell if it was the wine getting to him or not, but something made his cheeks grow red.

It was hard to remember the rest. Vincent tried to coax Jean into bed, but he refused, instead wrapping his arms around Vincent and locking him in an embrace.

It was a stupored dance, rocking back and forth as the painter tried to keep the soldier on his feet and not knock the two of them over. Not that he minded, though. The closeness was… oddly welcome.

“C’mon, Theo is going to worry if I don’t go back soon! I promise we’ll see each other tomorrow!” Vincent said, taking steps towards Jean’s bed.

Jean pulled back against him, his head leaning on Vincent’s chest. “But I want you here now.” 

How could the pure angel say no to such a shy request? It’d break poor Jeanie’s heart to force him off!

The swaying continued, Jean moving closer and closer, until…

What was it Arthur said? ‘Drunken words were sober thoughts?’ Did that translate to actions, too? 

The mens’ lips met, for just a brief second, but long enough for Vincent’s to turn into a living cherry. 

They stared at each other for a moment, lust and liquor made Jean’s gaze cloudy, just as it fogged his mind. Vincent was more aware, but maybe he was hazy, too. 

Jean went in again, losing all semblance of balance, leaning all his weight onto Vincent as his knees bent and only the tips of his toes remained dragging on the ground.

If he was a sinner, so be it. He couldn’t take it anymore– the strange pulses of his heart whenever Vincent smiled in the sunlight or told him he was beautiful. He was looked down upon by Heaven’s eye, so what was the point in searching for salvation any longer?

The devil named ethanol overtook Jean, but maybe it claimed Vincent’s heart, too. He didn’t even stumble, catching Jean’s weight and slowly easing into the second kiss. And the fourth. And the seventh.

When the eleventh finished, Vincent suddenly gained consciousness again and forced Jean into bed, running off soon after. Jean was too drunk by then and passed out before he could realize what he’d done.

When day broke the next day, Jean was alone in his bed. No memory came to him until 10 A.M. 

What in God’s name had he done!? What sweet temptation overcame him? He was never drinking again, surely! His heart beat out of his chest with images and sensations flashed by him. With Vincent? He had stooped so low as to share affections with a man!? An innocent one, at that! He couldn’t believe he had even dared to touch the painting angel, tainting him with fault and impurity. God almighty, damnation was all he would receive. He’d turned his back to God thousands of times, but this had to be it. The Holy Spirit would claim him at any moment, banishing him to the pits of hell. Forgiveness was fully out of reach. Why did he have to be revived? He should’ve suffered on that stake, right where he belonged.

Jean locked himself in his room for weeks, only answering when Mozart came to drop off a bottle of Rouge. The pianist would try to speak, only for the door to be slammed in his face. The few glimpses residents did catch of him weren’t all too uplifting, either: Jean, knelt over his bedside with a rosary, muttering the Hail Mary over and over as if he would face judgment at any second. He only left to go to the weapons shop. Jean would avoid Vincent like the plague, or in his case, a harsh blaze. 

Vincent didn’t fare much better. He was more shy and nervous around the mansion, his paintings became more chaotic and surreal. He tried to ignore it, push down every bit of emotion that started to rise in his chest, but… the unfinished paintings spoke for themselves. Lilly fields, the brandish of a sword, a fire burning sweetly in a fool’s chest.

Vincent felt his hands shake when he flipped through his sketchbook, only to find the same thoughts circling him. His chest felt like it would explode. He didn’t think anything of it when they first grew close to each other, but things were different now.

It was the first time anyone ever told him that.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The sword fell from his hands with a loud clatter. Jean was a statue in the middle of the weapons shop while Vincent stood by the door, his hand on the knob.

The store was closed, but Vincent had been gifted a key a while ago. Vincent brightened any room he stepped in with such a radiant light that Jean felt blinded by it. Except… Even with the sunset behind him, illuminating him like an angel, Vincent appeared to him as a normal man.

He was impure, too. He sinned. He felt. Vincent wasn’t a big fan of that last one. 

“You’re mistaken, monsieur.” Jean’s words cut like a sword; through the air and through Vincent’s heart. Vincent clutched his chest. “Whatever… this… is, it is not love. Lucifer is tempting us. We must not give in.” Jean picked the blade from the floor and placed it back on the rack, his brows knit. He kept his back turned to Vincent. He couldn’t even stand to look at him anymore. He was trying to resist the call of lust, after all. “There is nothing to love about me. Do not let the devil fool you, Vincent.”

Vincent’s head was filled with new feelings, but he knew this one too well: Hurt. It felt like Jean had just struck him in the heart with no remorse. Jean had always been blunt, a bit cold and dense, but this was cruel! Vincent’s fingers curled in, his fingernails stabbing the palm of his hand.

“Why not?” Vincent demanded. Jean wasn’t used to a harsh tone from the painter. “I-I…” Vincent practically trembled as he tried to force the words out. “Why do you get to decide what I’m feeling?”

Jean swallowed hard. He… He never thought of it like that. God was the only judge, why was he deciding for the painter? He opened his mouth to speak, but Vincent cut him off as he stepped closer.

“I love you, Jean. And, sure, maybe I don’t have the best grasp on feelings yet, but I know I love you.” Vincent’s declaration was made and there was no going back. It was a bit scary, pouring the beatings of his heart in front of Jean, but it had to be done. “You’re not going to convince me I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Jean was… silent. His violet eyes were wide, but there were unreadable emotions going through him. Vincent couldn’t bring himself to gaze at Jean for more than a few seconds. Not yet. He had no idea how the soldier would react. He was always so cynical, so shrouded in mystery, but that only made Vincent want to show him the sun even more.

“Why?” Jean parroted Vincent’s previous question. “What is there to love about me?” His voice cracked. As much as he tried to hide it, tears were being forcibly choked and swallowed to save his pride.

Vincent’s shoulders slowly slumped as the tension melted. Oh, what wasn’t there to admire. “Well… You’re strong.”

No I’m not, his mind argued.

“And you’re very kind. You’re always so thoughtful and thinking of others.”

It can’t be true.

“I can only dream to be as selfless as you, really!”

That was a blatant lie. What kind of game was he pulling? Only then did Jean’s thoughts stray. Vincent would never lie so openly. Was there truth in his words?

“I like spending time with you, too. You’ve always got something fun to say, when you do talk. And I like it when we go places. You keep talking about that field of lilies, so I think we could go there next!”

His mind’s voice couldn’t think up a retort in time.

“And… Well, I said it when we first met, right? You’re beautifully handsome. That’s something to enjoy, too,” Vincent giggled nervously, “Not as much as the other things, though! More of an added bonus.”

Vincent peeled his eyes off the floor to meet with an unseemly sight. Saint Jeanne D’Arc, staring him right in the face, with a hand over his mouth and tears rolling down his cheeks. It was sacrilegious to watch.

“Hey, don’t cry, Jeanie,” Vincent whispered, moving right in front of Jean to wipe his tears with his thumb. His hand lingered on the man’s cheek. 

Jean felt as if he couldn’t breathe right away. Love? Nonsense. It wasn’t for him. He wasn’t even supposed to be alive! How could someone so gentle and considerate say all those things about him? This had to be some sort of trick or illusion. A dream, even.

Jean’s fingers intertwined with Vincent’s, not letting the painter’s delicate hands leave his face anytime soon.

He was just waiting to wake up from this dream. Waiting patiently. Waiting… and waiting.

It never came.

When he opened his eyes, Vincent was still there, sky blue eyes lovingly locked on him. 

Vincent’s smile was soft. Anything harsher would blind Jean. “We’re vampires, Jean. I think God has bigger things to worry about. Maybe he can let this one slide.”

It was overwhelming to be blanketed in the holy light and Jean’s tears kept falling. This time, with a shy smile on his face.

It happened naturally. The gap between their faces drew shorter and shorter, their bodies fit together perfectly, and Jean’s hands felt comfortable on Vincent’s waist.

It was reserved, at first. Neither had any idea how to navigate a kiss with the other, but it was more natural than Jean had expected. It was… warm. Vincent’s thumb ran his across Jean’s eyepatch. Involuntarily, he drew back. They both used that as a minute to breathe.

Surprisingly, Jean was the one who initiated the second kiss, and this one was much more passionate. Their tongues collided on this one, messily and sloppily. Neither had any clue how to do this, but that was part of the enjoyment. It was slow, sensual, simply taking their time to explore each other. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. Jean and Vincent backed away from each other entirely content, their foreheads pressing against the other. A dopey grin enveloped the soldier’s red face. He was certain the blonde could hear just how loudly his heart pumped in his chest.

It was the first time he felt so happy.

The days at the mansion were almost tolerable now. When no one was around, a chaste peck on the cheek or forehead would be shared. Usually Vincent was the one to find Jean alone in the library, but occasionally Jean walked by his room and left a kiss on his cheek. 

Theo and Mozart noticed how they would disappear together first. Soon enough, everyone else caught on. Most of the mansion went to Arthur and Sebastian for answers, but both refused to tell. Sebastian out of not wanting to admit the amount of intel stored in his Oh no– They Didn’t! journal, and Arthur because he thought it’d be more fun for everyone else to figure it out themselves. Being the detective he was, Vincent sighed in relief when he heard he hadn’t told anyone. These feelings, this relationship… It’s all so new and they needed to take it slow. Being outed so soon would only spell disaster, especially in this century. Besides, Jean was already suffering from the judgmental stares from his little brother across the dinner table.

So, for the meantime, tea parties were kept in lonesome meadows and their most intimate moments were behind locked doors.

It was the first time he had a picnic. 

They promised to go to the lily field, when they had the chance. Vincent was captivated the moment he saw a sea of white petals blowing in the wind, glowing under the light of the moon. Jean didn’t interrupt his pause, allowing him to absorb the beauty around him. 

A blanket placed under them, a stiff breeze moving Vincent’s blonde curls in such a way that Jean couldn’t tear his eyes away. His head rested on the painter’s thigh while he sketched the field in front of them, grinning as his mind’s eye was put to paper. 

He looked down at Jean, breathing softly as he admired him. Vincent chuckled as he ran his fingers through his partner’s navy hair. “This is nice,” he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the still of the night.

The moonlight hit Vincent in such a way that he looked as if he descended from heaven, his features chiseled by God himself. “It is,” Jean responded, closing his eyes to properly enjoy the sensation. 

“We’re really lovers, aren’t we?” the blonde vampire asked softly. “It’s hard to imagine it in the mansion, but here… It feels real.” A pause hit Vincent before he continued, a romantic sigh leaving his lips as he took the moment in. “We should go see the sunflowers next.”

Jean’s eyes fluttered open and he watched Vincent attentively. There was a distinct longing in his eyes as he stared over the waves of flowers.

He couldn’t help himself. Jean cupped Vincent’s cheek in his head, bending awkwardly to plant a kiss on his lover’s jaw.

It was the first time he said those three words.

“I love you.”

It was the first time he took his eyepatch off in front of someone.

It had taken a full year for Jean to open up to the idea of taking his eyepatch off in front of Vincent. When they said they were taking it slow, they meant slow. Molasses envied them. They both had a lot of issues within themself, so moving too fast would only cause even more problems. This was far more safe and comfortable, and for them, that mattered more than anything.

It was a planned event. Theodorus wouldn’t be home for a few days on a business trip and Mozart was completely overtaken by a burst of creativity. Melodies filled the air each night, perfect for the inexperienced lovers. The stars had aligned for them to finally have a chance to sleep together and maybe sleep in, if they were lucky. 

Sitting on opposite ends of Jean’s mattress, Vincent observed the empty room around him with slight dismay. The many paintings gifted to his lover were the only decorations on the walls. Otherwise, the place looked like a jail cell. At least Vincent's cell had a nice window and some paint stains on the floor. This was a topic for another day, though. 

Jean sheepishly cleared his throat. A fabric eyepatch sling was laid across his open palm, extending it out for Vincent to take. He feared if he held it any longer that he’d put it right back on. 

Vincent was instantly enamored with Jean’s face. He came to know of Jean’s execution, of how he covered himself so thoroughly to hide the scars that coated him from his feet to his face, but finally being able to see some, the dead skin surrounding his blind eye and the burns that brushed his usually glove-covered hands… He was so beautiful. 

Jean was self-conscious under his gaze, actively forcing his left hand not to cover his eye. Fortunately, Vincent reached out and traced the burnt lines of his face before Jean could. His breath hitched, a short quivering running down his shoulder. “Sorry,” Vincent mumbled, now caressing the side of his face. “I just… I should paint you like this sometime. If you’ll let me.” Briefly, Vincent’s eyes wandered to his torso, before gazing back at the head of his lover. He held his cheek so tenderly.

Jean’s bashfulness melted under the tender gaze of the older Van Gogh. He took his wrist in his hand and planted delicate kisses against his palm. Vincent giggled coyly. Ah, that sound was more beautiful than any hymns the angels could conjure up. “I’ll think about it, monsieur.” He was thankful the attention to his scars ended there, although slight brushes and kisses against his eye were common as they laid next to each other. Any comments on its state would’ve left Jean a mess of regret and self-hatred. Vincent was careful about that, as Jean was with Vincent’s emotional status. It was an equal trade.

The evening was quiet, lulling the two to sleep easily. At first, they had fallen asleep with their hands locked together, not all too close to each other. Vincent knew just how overwhelming physical affection was for Jean, even after a full year in this relationship. Jean was the one who set the pace when it came to touch. He didn’t mind that. 

Apparently, his unconscious state did. Jean awoke in the middle of the night to Vincent’s head tucked against his neck, arms around his waist and his back pressed against the painter’s chest, their fingers still intertwined with each other. His face dug against the pillow under him, hiding the scar from the dark nighttime. 

Sometimes, he could feel the eyes of God staring at him, judging him for every sin he’d committed. When that happened, he’d spend several days in the city church, ultimately failing to build up the courage to enter the confessional. He was sin incarnate, no Father could offer repentance for that. 

The urge to run overcame him. To be so close to another living being was too much… but the scent of paint and sunflowers granted miracles to Jean. His muscles slowly unwound and he found himself falling into the arms of rest once again. The strong arms around him kept him tied to reality and away from the dark thoughts of his wandering mind. 

Every time Jean fell asleep, he dreaded the coming morning. The cycle of a torturous, unwanted, wrongful existence continued. 

But with Vincent here… Things were different. A small flicker grew in his heart. If he could make it to tomorrow, he’d get to see Vincent smile. Oh, and perhaps he’d get to spare with Napoleon, and then play with Cherie… then he could… And then...

Suddenly everything felt worth fighting for, if only for a day.

He had taken his eyepatch off, and the world still turned.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Things I'm Not

Series: A Study in Spite

Requested by: @heartbreakgrill and @whatsupb18

Word Count: 14,000 (But I promise it's worth it.)

Summary: Even after your parents kicked you out, you thought you would be safe with Kol. Unfortunately for you, hateful people suck and don't know when to give up. || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

Warnings: Oh, boy... Where do I start? This fic starts out fluffy but it does not stay that way. There's language, violence, quite a bit of blood, A-N-G-S-T, brief references to suicide, mentions of guardian figures encouraging self-harm, a sprinkling of brutality, and some not-so-healthy relationship behavior. But the request asked for psychotic and I delivered as best I could. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

🔪STORY BEGINS BELOW🔪

You were driven from your dreams by the grating sound of distant arguing. That was nothing unusual, your parents fought a lot lately. So was it really your fault if it took a solid 10 minutes for you to realize that the bickering voices didn't belong to your parents?

Come to think of it, something was off. The sheets surrounding you were much too soft to be yours and the bed beneath you was... breathing.

Your eyes snapped open.

Well... this wasn't your room.

A pair of arms held you close, one wrapped low around your waist and the other over your back. You had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of whoever you were cuddled up to. Dark hair, sharp features, soft expression.

Kol.

The night before came rushing back and you blushed fiercely, smiling to yourself all the same. Kol had kissed you. He'd asked you to stay, carried you back, and sang softly until you fell asleep in his arms. When you had first agreed to go out with him, you hadn't thought he actually cared about you. Why would he? No one else did. So even as time had worn on, the thought never really crossed your mind.

But you realized it now. Somehow, with the early morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow on his face, it was easier to see. He looked so young and innocent so peaceful - like the eighteen-year-old boy he should have been allowed to be. The ravenous animal under his skin was caged for now and the last thousand years of heartache could lay no claim on him here, so long as he remained in his dreams. It was impossible to imagine that an original vampire might somehow care for you. But Kol as you saw him now? That didn't seem so far-fetched.

Yes, you saw it now. That boy had a lot of love to give. Kol did care about you - truly. He genuinely wanted to take care of you. He wanted you to be alright - happy even.

How extraordinary.

You smiled and laid your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat just the same as yours. The two of you really weren't so different. It seemed silly that you'd once believed otherwise.

Kol hummed.

"I know you're awake, darling," He mumbled, still a little groggy. His arms around you tightened as he shifted and you bit your lip, eyes widening. His voice was quiet and raspy and... really hot actually - not that you'd ever admit that out loud. "But please-" He sighed, burying his face in your hair. " -don't make me get up yet?"

You snickered, shaking your head a bit though it was mostly just an excuse to nuzzle closer to him. "What? Is Mr. Perfection not a morning person?"

"Don't say that as if you are," He joked, lightly poking you in the side. You couldn't help but giggle and you shrugged, feeling a smile on his lips as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "How'd you sleep?"

Funny, he was the first person to ask you that in a while.

"Honestly?" You drew in a breath. "I haven't slept so well in two years." As soon as the words left your lips, you found yourself chuckling at the sheer absurdity of them. "And yeah, I'm well aware of just how stupid that is," You added.

"Why say that?" Kol wondered, lifting his head a little. His hand on your back took to drawing idle shapes along your shoulder blade. Those trailing fingers coaxed a shiver from your bones despite being surrounded by his pleasant warmth.

You shrugged but spoke anyway. Kol was safe - you knew now that you could tell him anything.

"Well, I've been going to counsel meetings since my freshman year of highschool," You explained quietly, playing with a strand of your hair. "I just never took them seriously until suddenly I was a senior and all these people around town - people I knew, went to school with, couples I'd baby-sat for - they all started dying. A-and I know what an animal attack looks like - I live in rural Virginia, for crying out loud!" You laughed but it quickly died off and your voice quieted further. "At council meetings, the police... they-they would show pictures o-of the bodies. They were never really very bloody, you know? So, uh... I mean, you-you could really see... inside." Memories flashed behind your eyes. Sickening, bloodless murals of mutilated muscle, tendons, skin, and bone.

Kol didn't speak. He just rubbed your back soothingly.

You shook your head minutely. "There were never any scratches," You mused. "No claws - just teeth. Mountain lions... mountain lions, or-or coyotes, they... they don't do that. So, when there was only one thing that could have... Well, I guess it was sort of like a slap to the face 'cuz these savage predators my parents had been telling me horror stories about for years were actually real and now they were right outside the door. So, I just got real scared... and I stopped sleeping."

You didn't have to see his face to know he was frowning, brows drawn together in a question.

"You... you saw?" He asked in hardly a whisper. You nodded. "And you still let me hold you?"

A wry smile tugged at your lips. "Pretty stupid, eh?"

The boy seemed to relax, he laid his head back and forced out a breath but the tension in his shoulders was far from gone. His arms tugged you closer as though he feared you might run away if he let go.

"How can you trust me if you've seen what I can do to you?" There was something very vulnerable in his voice as he asked that question. You were reminded of your conversation the night before - his own mother saw nothing good left in him, nothing worth loving.

You took a moment to answer, thinking it through.

"You made me a promise," You decided, nodding to yourself.

"I promised I'd never intentionally cause you pain," He said. "What if I slip up? It happens sometimes - I just get so hungry and I can't control it. What if I hurt you by accident?"

The words left your lips before you had time to doubt them. "I don't think you will."

"How can you be sure?" He rested his cheek against your hair, inhaling deeply. "I'm the most vile thing you've ever met."

"I know." You smiled but it was a lie. Kol was not the most vile thing you knew. That distinction took on a much more mundane form. "Though, if you're the most dangerous monster in the world, then I can sleep peacefully knowing that right next to you is the safest place I can be." You slipped your arms up around his neck, still too tired to give him a proper hug. "You'll keep all the monsters away... Even your own."

The boy huffed a laugh and before you really knew what was happening, you were lying on your back and Kol was hovering over you, grinning cheekily.

"You know, I think you're right," He said.

You smirked, stretching out a little. "Of course I am."

"You're also gorgeous." Kol brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were just as soft as they'd been the night before and his movements were just as sweet. That boy's kisses were like a winter champagne toast, bubbly and fun and just a little bit intoxicating, but nothing too serious. He knew you were still getting used to this - to him, and everything he was - so Kol was gentle and slow... But he was still himself. So naturally, when his champagne lips left yours, he immediately started working his way lower. Starting along your jaw and leaving a trail of achingly soft kisses as he moved down the column of your throat.

It was similar to the way he'd kissed you the night of your first date, except it was more meaningful this time - more personal. You realized that night had merely been a trial run, this was the real deal. Kol's lips found your pulse and he paused, letting go of an uncertain breath.

"Thank you for trusting me, Y/N," He murmured into your skin. Kol never said anything unless he really meant it.

You wove your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. "Thank you for caring."

"Always," He promised.

Kol's lips parted when he attacked your pulse again and those slow, perfect kisses lost a little bit of their innocence. He was too good at this. Each one left you craving more, so you couldn't really help the moan that escaped your lips when Kol dipped his head to mouth at your collarbones. The mark he'd left on you weeks before had faded but he seemed keen to replicate his work.

His kisses grew rougher, more fervent. Warmth bloomed wherever he touched and you found yourself utterly lost in it. Blunt teeth began scraping and nipping at your skin and-

Oh... Oh, that felt good.

His lips returned to your pulse, spreading a gooey, perfect heat down your spine in thick waves and his tongue darted out to steal a taste. Your body arched up and Kol groaned.

Then those blunt teeth turned sharper than knives.

You froze. Kol's breathing ran ragged and you gasped as he pressed their needle-like points into your skin with pressure on the very knife edge of drawing blood. The boy stilled.

When he pulled away, his eyes were closed and his expression drawn. You could see black veins writhing beneath the skin under his eyes and you watched, apprehensive, as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. The predator faded from the surface a few moments later and he sighed, opening his eyes. He offered you a dry smile.

"I think it's time for breakfast," He said softly. An apology lingered in those chocolate eyes.

But you were safe. Always safe. That was what mattered.

You gave him a smile to let him know you were okay. "Lead the way then." The boy grinned down at you.

At that precise moment, the door to Kol's bedroom flew open with a bang.

He closed his eyes and cursed.

"Well good morning, little brother!" An obnoxious voice exclaimed. The figure in the doorway could not have sounded any more smug.

"Bugger off, Nik," The boy snapped.

"Why? Having a good time with your lady friend?" Klaus teased, smirking.

Kol grimaced. "I was, no thanks to you." He moved off of you and stood before scooping you into his arms in the next second. "We're going to get breakfast now. Bye!"

"Wait!" You held up a hand to stop him. Kol raised a brow. "I need my phone. Gotta know if good ole' mom and dad have put a bounty on my head yet."

The boy chuckled but swiped your phone from the nightstand and passed it to you. "My lady."

Then the world lurched and you were sitting on the counter of the kitchen island. You blinked and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. When you looked up again, Klaus had joined you as well.

He stood in front of his younger sibling, arms folded behind his back. "Come now, brother. You know I don't mind you bringing your toys home, but I really must insist on knowing exactly who resides in my house at any given time." The hybrid's tone was mostly casual but it carried a lethal edge just beneath the surface. He turned on his heel, rounding on you. You knew he wouldn't hurt you though - he'd signed that treaty with the council same as Kol. "Who might you be, love?" He asked.

"And what do you want for breakfast?" Kol tagged on.

"I'm Y/N, but I'm not sure how much longer I'll be a Y/L/N," You replied, powering on your phone. You weren't sure what your parents would have to say about your little stunt, but you were positive it wouldn't be anything good. "Oh, and I saw some Pop Tarts in y'all's pantry last night and I don't mind if I do."

Klaus recognized your name though he wasn't sure from where. You gave him a moment to think and went scrolling through your texts.

"Really, darling? Pop Tarts?" Kol leveled you with a look of sheer disappointment.

"What? It's been forever since I had one of those things!" You defended.

"Why?"

You shrugged, trying to cover the twinge in your chest. "Weapons don't get junk food."

Kol blinked and his mouth pressed into a thin line. "You know what? Take as many bloody Pop Tarts as you want."

"Yay!"

Klaus' eyes darkened then and you knew he'd found his answer. "Your parents are on the Founder's Council." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yup. And that very same council is planning to gas this fine establishment with enough vervain to choke an undead horse sometime soon, so I suggest y'all start routinely checking your vents for the next couple of weeks." You sighed, looking up from reading the last of your parent's rage texts. "And before you ask: No, I don't know anything more than that because I'm not invited to their little meetings anymore."

"I'm afraid that sounds rather unlikely," A new voice chimed into the conversation. A man dressed in an expensive suit waltzed through the kitchen doorway. He looked like an older, less happy version of Kol, so you figured that must have been Elijah.

"No, I can assure you - she's been thoroughly shunned." Kol grinned as he got himself a plastic bag out of the refrigerator, the contents of which you tried not to pay attention to.

Elijah shot him a flat look. "I was referring to this supposed plot of the council. Mayor Lockwood already assured us there would be peace."

"I'm sure she did," You said. "However, Mayor Lockwood was not privy to the - what's a fancy word - formulation of this plan." You felt an odd need to step up your vocabulary in their presence.

Klaus seemed thoroughly - if not darkly - amused by your comments. He chuckled. "Sweetheart, she's the mayor."

"I'm aware of that, thanks," You deadpanned. "Problem is, an unfortunate majority of the council believes that some of its members have lost their nerve, namely Mayor Lockwood, Sheriff Forbes, and that Damon Salvatore guy."

"Well, that's probably because Salvatore and his little brother happen to be quite dead," Kol hummed.

"As is Sheriff Forbes' daughter Caroline," Klaus chimed in. "Not to mention, her boyfriend Tyler Lockwood - my oh-so-lucky first hybrid."

You coughed, nearly choking on your Pop Tart as you glanced between them, wide-eyed.

Kol frowned. "Did you not know that?"

"I did not," You admitted slowly. "But you know what? That makes a lot of sense, actually." You shook your head, getting back on track. "Anyway, the rest of the council has decided that the Mayor's methods are far too passive. So they're taking things into their own hands. Again, that's all I know; y'all are welcome for the warning."

Klaus folded his arms over his chest, nodding. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Kol tense. He wasn't about to let you be hurt.

"Let's say you are telling the truth, love," The hybrid began, sounding rather ominous. "What then, pray tell, are you doing here?"

You huffed a bitter laugh and Klaus' dangerous smirk dropped just a little.

"Well, if forty-seven texts, twenty-two calls, and three Emails are anything to go by, then I'm getting myself disowned," You said with a fake smile.

"Why?" He wondered, brows furrowing into an expression both curious and suspicious.

"Because metaphorically speaking, my parents are Death Eaters and I just slept with a muggle." It hurt a lot less when you were making fun of it.

It seemed Elijah was the only one to get your joke. He snickered and his brothers looked to him for an explanation.

"It's from a book series called Harry Potter. The Death Eaters in the story are blood supremacists and Muggles are the group they discriminate against," He said.

The other two nodded in vague understanding and you reminded yourself to introduce Kol to Harry Potter.

You waved a hand. "It's less funny when you explain it." Hopping up from your chair, you approached Klaus. Kol flinched, looking about ready to tackle his brother should the hybrid try anything. "Anyway, you built this place right? You said it's your house?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes..."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. It wasn't as if you had many other options.

"Would it be too much if I asked to stay here for a while? Just a couple days - maybe a week? I'd never typically ask this of anyone but, um..." Your voice broke off as your throat closed around the words you'd been about to speak. They died on your tongue, so you shoved your phone into his hands instead, offering him a view of your parents' latest message.

His eyes skimmed over it and the expression he wore softened just slightly.

You knew what the text said.

"Your accounts have been frozen and we've terminated your scholarship. If you want to act like a purposeless whore, then you can live like one. Don't. Come. Back."

Tears welled in your eyes without your permission. You knew your parents had run out of love for you, but this? This was one step further.

This was active hatred.

Klaus frowned, glancing between you and Kol as if trying to figure something out. Just a few feet away, Kol looked like he wanted to grab you and run.

"I just don't know where else to go," You whispered, bowing your head. "A-and I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm not safe now that I've told you this. You just... you don't understand what they're willing to do. I don't even think I could explain how much they hate you! This town is cursed along with everyone in it." You were rambling but you lost your ability to care about that as the horror of your situation truly dawned on you for the first time. "You guys don't know. You don't know what they said - what they're capable of. You don't know what they told me to do!"

Kol took a step toward you and Klaus crossed his arms over his chest. Behind him, Elijah's eyes narrowed. Their expressions belied varying levels of concern.

"Darling?" Kol spoke up cautiously. "Why do I get the feeling there's something you need to tell me?"

You blinked quickly, snapping out of your panic. You'd said too much and you had to bite down on your tongue to keep the rest of it inside. You wanted to tell him, you really did. You'd wanted to tell him this exact thing the night before, but you'd deflected then too. You needed to do this, but-

"I can't."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"If I tell you, you'll kill them all."

The three brothers glanced at one another. When Kol spoke, he did so slowly - as if it pained him.

"Darling, listen. If you tell me, I'll not act without your explicit permission," He said. "Alright?"

Kol was safe. You could trust him. He wasn't going to hurt you.

You drew in a breath that rattled your lungs as you rapidly blinked tears from your eyes. You looked at your feet, ashamed, though you knew logically that none of this was your fault.

"The Council is sick with hatred," You began, trying to keep your voice even. "It's like a disease and it's infected all of them. People I thought I knew - my own parents - they want me to be a weapon."

Kol, of course, already knew that but you explained for the other two. Klaus stiffened but Elijah reached out and laid a hand on his arm. You continued, wringing your hands.

"One of them - I think it was Carter Hamilton's wife - she found out I was seeing Kol."

No matter how desperately you wanted to, you just couldn't bring yourself to look at him. It wasn't his fault but you couldn't stand to think of him the way they did - like a wild animal that couldn't control its urges.

"She-she found out, and she brought it up at one of the meetings. She talked to my parents about it - not even to me - like I wasn't even there. She said - she suggested that they stop giving me vervain." Your voice caught and the words felt like glass to try and swallow. Suddenly you felt like you weren't getting enough oxygen - the air in the kitchen felt thin.

"She thought that if... if I could, um... w-well, if I could get him to... " You breathed in and out. In and out.

"She said that if I could get Kol to-to... feed... on me just, um, just a few times without vervain, then maybe they could slip enough of it to me one day to catch him off guard. They thought that maybe if they could... They wanted to use me to weaken you, Kol... and then, um, then maybe decapitation might kill you."

"And say you had been seriously injured in such an ill-conceived attempt on my brother's life," Elijah proposed in a tone of measured neutrality. He stood hardly a few feet from you but his voice sounded strangely indistinct - almost far away. "Did any member of the council propose a feasible method for ensuring your survival?"

You shook your head, eyes stinging with unshed tears you should have felt safe enough to cry earlier.

"No," You answered, voice thinning further, poised to snap. Your whole body was trembling. "They didn't think it was important enough. Hamilton's wife said my only purpose was to make Kol weak, and that I needed to do whatever it took to do that." You sucked in a breath through your teeth clenched like a vice. If you relaxed a single muscle, you were sure you'd fall apart.

"The rest of the council agreed with her."

Finally, you mustered the courage to lift your gaze, meeting his warm chocolate eyes. Kol looked like he was gonna be sick. His hands were clenched into fists but there was more than just rage in his countenance. There was disgust and not only for the Council. No, there was guilt there too. Disgust and guilt for what he'd very nearly done hardly a few minutes before.

Upon meeting his eyes, your stomach twisted with shame for ever having associated with those people. You didn't feel or think the things they did. Kol had never been a monster to you, he'd never done anything to hurt you. So revealing what you'd been told to do wrought a foul, nauseating guilt boiling under your lungs like you'd never felt before. The more you let yourself think about it, the more deeply you realized how twisted and cruel the Council's plan for you truly was.

Intentionally encouraging Kol to indulge his curse on you? Allowing hateful people he'd not harmed in any way, to take advantage of his weaknesses in order to kill him for something he couldn't change? It was sick!

It was all so sick and your parents had been among those telling you to do it.

All you could feel was shame and hurt and you yearned to just run away from it all and hide so you wouldn't have to face him. But no. No, you had to look him in the eye now. Kol deserved to know why you'd been so terrified of him for so long. His arms were the only safe place for you now and he deserved to know why. He deserved to know everything.

And you weren't even to the worst part yet.

"They told me not to fight you," You whispered. "They said that if you - no, um, they said when - when you bit me, that I should let you. They, um, they told me to let you do anything you wanted... even if-if it h-hurt me. They said I should let you feed as much as you wanted, even if I passed out because otherwise it would ruin the plan. They told me that if I died then it was okay because I'd be dying for their stupid, miserable Cause." You spat the last words out with more venom than you'd ever spoken anything. You closed your eyes and let the tears in your eyes slip down your cheeks. You'd held them in long enough.

Before you had another moment to think, you found yourself caught up in a pair of arms. His were the only pair you'd ever really had - the only ones you could rely on. You buried yourself in them, safe from the world - safe from the Council. Kol's soft voice murmured soothing words in your ear in a language you didn't understand, while his fingers ran themselves skillfully through your hair and he just let you cry.

"They were supposed to protect me!" You sobbed into his shirt. The pain of all these thoughts you'd avoided processing crashed down on you now. So you clung to him. "They promised to keep me safe! They said I'd never have to fight - that it would never come to that! But they lied! They lied to me, Kol! They lied to me and they told me to die!" That was what they'd really told you to do, you realized. "They told me to kill myself!"

You hated them.

The boy holding you froze. He pulled away just a fraction of an inch, absorbing your revelation like a bullet to the gut. Perhaps he wanted to say something - perhaps he wanted to demand why you hadn't told him this earlier - but you didn't care to look at him. You just shook your head, fisting his shirt, and let him take the pain you could bear no longer.

His arms were around you again a second later, cradling you as close as he possibly could. Kol held onto you with the same determined ardor as he had just last night. He held you like he wouldn't let you go for the whole world - like it wouldn't mean anything without you. He held you as if he would fall to pieces if he loosed his grip but a fraction. The space between his arms was reserved just for you. Entirely yours. Safe.

Once he felt that he'd held you long enough to speak, his voice was a myriad of emotions that all lent themselves to just one feeling. It was a three-word feeling that he wasn't willing to say out loud just yet, but it was there. You could feel it too. It had been there when you'd woken up with him that morning, though you weren't ready to say it either.

"You listen to me, darling, and you listen well." Kol spoke in a growl so low you wouldn't have heard it had his lips not been at your ear. He held you tight and close. "Forget everything that Council ever told you. Forget it, right now! Because you are not their pawn to be sacrificed. You are mine. Understand that? You're mine, and I am never going to hurt you. Never. I promise."

And you knew that boy didn't promise things lightly.

"I don't wanna be like them," You whispered.

"You're not," He affirmed. "You are nothing like they are."

You sighed, and the shards of glass in your lungs seemed to fall out. They'd been there so long you'd almost forgotten what it was like to breathe easy.

"Do me a favor?"

"Yes. Of course, name it," He readily replied, grasping handfuls of your clothes and hair. "Tell me how to make it better?"

"Don't kill them?" He stiffened. "Please?"

Kol snarled, hugging you closer. "I don't know if I can promise that bit."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck to return the hug properly. "You don't have to promise. Just say you'll try?"

Kol cursed.

"I don't think you quite understand the weight of what you're asking, sweet-thing." He almost sang those words and the speed at which his tone flipped should have terrified you.

"Maybe not." You shrugged. Kol was a one thousand year old being for goodness sakes. You couldn't expect him to change on a dime. "But I'm asking."

"They don't deserve forgiveness," He spat.

"This isn't forgiveness," You maintained. "It's spite."

That was all it had ever been. All you really had from the beginning.

"Well, as delightful as this has been, I really don't think I'm up for watching the two of you explore one another for the next few hours." Klaus' voice spoke up from behind you and your face flushed. You'd forgotten he was still there. "So before I take my leave, I'd just like to say that I have no objections to you staying here, Y/N. Consider yourself an honored guest in this house as long as you may have need of it."

Kol refused to let go of you, but you turned within his arms to face his brother. Behind you, the boy took to nuzzling at your neck.

"You don't think I'm playing you?"

Klaus sighed and there was something very heavy in it. "There are things one cannot fake, love." The smile he proffered was thin but sincere. "Besides, if you can keep Kol in a good mood then you're more than worth the trouble. Stay as long as you like. Hell, move in if you want to! My little brother needs a decent babysitter."

"Shut up, Nik," The boy grumbled into your throat.

You returned his brother's fragile smile. "Thanks."

He bowed his head to you and left. Elijah moved to follow but he stopped at the door.

"Might there be anything else you need, young one? After all, I believe we were the ones to push you into this unfortunate situation," He said. Those words held an awful lot of regret.

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't turn them into animals - they did that all on their own," You replied somewhat tiredly. "Though, now that you mention it, do you think you could spare a little time to help me get my belongings back? I'm kind of attached to my bean-bag chair."

Elijah cracked a smile. "Certainly."

Kol sighed. "I don't know, darling," He hummed with a tone like a knife edge. "If I go near that house again, I might have to confront the owners of said dwelling and tear them limb from limb."

His words should have scared you. But they didn't.

You hummed. "Do you think you could settle for scaring them out of their wits?"

***

When you arrived at the door to your parent's house, Kol was clinging to you like an oversized koala. That is if a koala could exude thoughts of sweet, sweet arson and murder from its very being in thick, tangible, waves. He didn't seem intent on letting go of you any time soon so you figured you'd just deal with it. Elijah, on the other hand, was fixing his cufflinks in a way that somehow came off as threatening though you weren't going to question it.

You rang the doorbell.

The door was answered by a shotgun. You went a little cross-eyed looking at it.

"We're back to this again are we?" You could hear the smirk in Kol's voice and you just grinned.

"Hi, dad!" You greeted cheerfully. You had already done all the crying you were going to do. You refused to let that man hurt you anymore.

"Get off my property!" He barked. "You're not welcome here! Any of you!"

Who exactly did he think he was talking to?

"Yeah, well we're coming in anyway." You shrugged. "My new room's missing some things."

"Right," He scoffed. "And how do you expect to get them without the original freaks? They can't get past the threshold without my saying so, and you don't live here anymore."

You hummed nodding. "Nice try, but you couldn't possibly have changed my records that quickly." You ducked under your father's gun - which Kol quickly snatched before proceeding to bend into a knot - then stepped through the door. Your mother stood a few feet inside.

She shook her head, frantic. "Don't do this, Y/N/N," She begged. "Please don't do this?"

You met her eyes. "Feel free to come in, guys," You said evenly. "Make yourselves at home."

In a split second, Kol had wrapped himself around you again, grinning wide and sharp.

Your mother scurried back, cowering against the far wall. Sure, you could have rubbed it in further, but it just didn't seem worth it.

"Elijah?"

"Yes?" He responded. He didn't break his little staring contest with your father but he did tilt his chin in your direction.

"I don't know if the vervain gas is hidden here, but by all means, poke around."

Your father's eyes could not have contained more rage.

"You told them?!" He demanded in disbelief. You just shrugged. You failed to see how he could be surprised, after the way he'd treated you. The man's lips peeled back and spittle flew from between his clenched teeth. Who was the animal here? "Why you miserable, pathetic, ungrateful, little wh-"

He didn't have time to finish that sentence because Kol had him suspended in the air by his throat. Your father coughed and gagged, writhing in midair.

"What? Not going to finish?" Kol taunted. He was enjoying this quite a lot. "Can I break him, darling?" He asked, not looking back at you.

You sighed. "Kol, we talked about this."

"Come now, he asked for it," The dark-haired boy insisted. "Just a little? I can even put him back together if you want! Who knows? Maybe a little bit of vampire blood in his system will make him less of a brute!"

At the mention of vampire blood, your father let out a strangled scream. He kicked and struggled more violently.

"No!" Your mother cried, moving as if to somehow aid her husband. Kol stopped her with a single finger jabbed in her direction.

"Ah! Did I ask for your opinion?" He shifted his gaze to her and she faltered beneath the weight of it. All objections died in her throat and even you could have sworn you felt the temperature in the room drop with that chilling glare. His next words were soft as death by hypothermia - far too pleasant to be comforting. "Your fate may lay in your daughter's hands, but I wouldn't test me if I were you."

You glanced back up at your father, still fighting and spitting in your direction.

"You know what? Have your fun, just don't go overboard. I'll be in my room." You flicked your hand in a wave and tried not to pay attention to the twist of guilt in your stomach as Kol's grin turned positively gleeful. You just turned and made your way to your room.

To your surprise, the screams didn't last very long. They died down after only about five to ten minutes and by that time, you hadn't even decided what to pack up first.

"Well, that's one thing taken care of," Kol announced as he waltzed into your room, seeming as content as he'd been when you'd woken up with him.

"Thanks," You said softly.

"Oh, it was my genuine pleasure."

You rolled your eyes. "I meant for holding back," You said. "You did hold back, right?"

The boy flopped down on your bed, fixing you with an adorable expression you couldn't seem to incite anger from, despite knowing what was behind it. "In my opinion? Absolutely, all things considered."

"What did you do?" You honestly weren't sure if you wanted to know the answer to that.

He shrugged. "Let's just say your father has a brand new tattoo he never wanted. I'd say go take a look, but it's going to take a while to really show up. That is, as long as he receives some stitches for it within the next hour and forty-five minutes."

You raised a brow. "Is that a fancy way of saying you gave him a big-ass scar?"

"Yeah, but it sounds less fun when you say it like that!" He said dismissively, waving a hand. "What we really should have done is gotten Nik over here. He's the artistic one - could have made it fancy - perhaps drawn a hog or something to go with..."

You rolled your eyes, trying to push away the part of you that was currently bombarding you with memories of a time when your parents loved you. Though the more that you thought about it, the more you realized those memories were really just of parents that didn't openly despise you.

"Kol?" You called his name softly and he was sitting by your side in a heartbeat. "This doesn't make me bad, does it?"

That dark-haired boy took your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles as he urged you to meet his milk-chocolate eyes.

"No. This doesn't make you bad," He said. "You didn't do anything today - I did."

"But I let you... wanted you to," You insisted. "What does that make me?"

"It makes you free, darling." He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against the back of it. "Don't be sad. It's alright to just enjoy it." A smile tugged at his lips and he pulled you to your feet. "Come now, I'll help you get all this stored and we'll be done in time for lunch. You can teach me another one of your Christmas songs while you're at it."

***

December drew to a close without any major incidents and January passed by much the same, with you and Kol living out something of a crooked fairytale. While you'd originally planned to stay with the Mikaelsons only as long as you needed to find yourself an apartment, that notion was quickly tossed out the window. Kol just kept complaining that an apartment would be nothing more than a waste of time and money, seeing as you spent most of your nights in his bedroom anyway, despite having one of your own.

He wasn't wrong.

Halfway through January, you sued the ever-loving hell out of your parents, pursuing it all the way to the state level where you finally managed to get your savings and checking accounts back. With that money, you figured you would enroll in the spring semester of your chosen college with Kol along for the ride. (He needed to catch up on recent history anyway, so it worked out.)

By February, things were going pretty well and you'd even started getting back into your old hobbies.

Alright, so it was less of a hobby and more of a side gig. Despite your raging phobia of performing in front of an audience, you'd gone and joined a band in your sophomore year. You were the band's percussionist and sure, it was by no means professional, but you got actual gigs at the Grill every Wednesday night and made some decent cash. It was fun and you loved it, no matter what anyone said about it being a waste of time or unladylike.

Now, you hadn't played since the Original Family came to town, but for the past few weeks, you'd been coming back. Wednesday nights you got to do what you loved, free of fear or judgment. Not even Kol was here to watch, you reassured yourself as you sat down at your drum set and tied a familiar gray blindfold over your eyes.

Not that he would judge you, of course. You just weren't sure you were ready to share one more part of yourself with that boy. Music was the part of you that made you happiest and it had always belonged solely to you.

You fixed your blindfold and picked up your drumsticks to tell Rory - the head singer and guitarist - that you were ready. Everyone outside the band thought the blindfold was just your gimmick but really you just couldn't perform without it. The sight of any crowd drove your stage fright berserk, oftentimes making you sick.

But hey, if everyone wanted to see it as a gimmick, then more power to them. At least it went with the band name.

"Please welcome Mystic Falls's own, Daredevil Squad!"

Wow. Good ole' Matt Donovan really needed to work on his introduction voice, but that was neither here nor there. With those words, your thinking time was over. Rory gave the cue and you counted the rest in. Then, you had fun.

You played for a solid two hours which is a lot harder than it sounds. You were glad Rory had picked some really good songs for the performance, though House of the Rising Sun was definitely your favorite. You didn't sing much, just hummed in the background mostly, but that was why you played percussion - it was the beat you were in love with. More often than not, you could almost swear the drums had a mind of their own and you were just along for the ride.

Once you were finished, you tugged the blindfold off and made a beeline for the bar. You were going to die of thirst if you didn't get a glass of water right away. In your haste, you failed to take note of your surroundings or more specifically, the people in them.

"You know, I was beginning to wonder where it is you run off to every Wednesday night," A very familiar voice purred next to your ear.

You jumped and whirled around to find Kol grinning down at you, whiskey in hand. You must have flushed bright red because that cheeky grin of his grew wider.

"Kol? What-what are you doing here?" You sputtered. What were you supposed to say?

"Well, I came here intending to dull the monotony of your absence with alcohol, but I find myself pleasantly surprised," He answered, tossing you a wink.

"I... didn't know you were going to be here," You said, somewhat apologetic. It wasn't as though you could expect him to like your music. After all, no one else ever had.

His expression softened and he put his drink down, drawing you into a hug. "Relax, darling. No need to get uptight," He reassured. "You were amazing and I loved watching you."

You smiled. "Really?"

"Absolutely. I only wish you'd told me earlier." He squeezed your shoulder, smiling easily. That boy always knew how to calm your nerves. "But hey, as long as we're both here, why don't you join me for a few drinks?" He offered. At that moment, the bartender passed you your water and you snatched it from the counter, downing the whole thing in just a few seconds. Kol blinked. "Or not..."

"Sorry!" You giggled. "I gotta go put my instrument away real quick. But I'll come back, okay?"

"Sounds excellent, love," He agreed.

"Awesome." You tapped your fingers against the bar top a few times before swinging around and making your way to the Grill's tiny excuse for a backstage area. Kol watched you go up until the door swung shut behind you.

As soon as it had, you were plunged into darkness. Though it was only for a few seconds as you reached for the light switch, that was long enough. Someone lunged from behind one of the extra speakers and a cloth was shoved over your mouth and nose. You knew better than to breathe it in, but your attacker wasn't alone. A second assailant grabbed hold of your arms and locked a pair of handcuffs around your wrists with trained precision. You tried to scream for help and it was shortly after that when everything went black.

***

Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes knew what desperation looked like. Having been in this job as long as she had, Liz liked to think she'd seen just about every form a desperate soul could take.

Fate proved her wrong when Kol Mikaelson appeared in the doorway of her office. Somewhere amidst the limb-freezing, mind-numbing existential terror that shot through her veins at the sight of him, Liz recognized that he did not look well.

His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, contrasting starkly with pale skin and dark, matted hair. He stood there, tall and proud despite it all and Liz was reminded of her daughter. Sweet little Caroline - the girl who ran herself ragged over everything. Well, Kol hardly seemed like the type to do so. Therefore, Liz figured that whatever was going on was bound to be serious.

The ancient predator strolled leisurely into the small office space and draped himself over the rickety old chair opposite Liz's desk. His eyes closed for only a moment, as though it were a relief to sit down. Seeming to her like a Jaguar lounging on a tree branch, he leveled a pair of infinitely incomprehensible eyes on her and she resisted the urge to shrink under the weight of his hard gaze.

Instead, she cleared her throat, tipping her head in his direction. "Good afternoon," She greeted. His head tilted to the side. He didn't return her pleasantries. "So to what do I owe this visit?"

This terrible being raised a brow. "You are the head of this dismal town's law enforcement, are you not?" He began, unimpressed.

Liz blinked, unsure how to reply. "Well... yes."

"And theft is still an act declared by your country's laws to be immoral, is it not?"

She nodded slowly. "Since last I checked."

The predator's eyes narrowed. "Then I do believe I'm here to requisite your expertise, Miss. Elizabeth." Each word was sharper than a surgical knife.

She bristled at her name on his lips. "It's Sheriff Forbes."

"Liz." He grinned - a flash of white teeth and flecks of red. Kol Mikaelson leaned forward, she could smell decay on his breath. "Something has been stolen from me, Lizzie - something very important and I want it back."

This thing in front of her was nothing like the vampire Liz carefully liked to consider her friend. Damon Salvatore gave off an erratic and often dangerous aura, but underneath that, there was a begrudging kindness and an even more begrudging sense of empathy. Kol Mikaelson was a different story. He radiated power in every idle movement, the kind of power that made Damon's worst day seem like a teenager with a spitball gun. Everything about him was effortless and yet very deliberate. With young, innocent features and a voice so smooth and pleasant she had to fight to keep herself from being lulled into a hypnotic trance, it was like he could compel her without even trying - vervain or no.

"You can't find whatever is missing on your own?" She asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Kol snarled. Liz had seen mountain lions bear their teeth - the sight looked a little something like that. "Do you really think I would be here if that were the case?"

"I suppose not." She exhaled evenly. "Mr. Mikaelson-"

"Kol." His lips twitched up. "I'm not my stuffy brother, first names will do nicely."

Liz clenched her fists beneath her desk.

"Kol," She amended. "I'm afraid I won't be able to help you if this is a matter of an... exotic variety." The walls of the Sheriff's office were by no means sound proof and not everyone on the force was in on the secret.

"Not to worry, Lizzie. The perpetrators of this crime are all perfectly ordinary." His pleasant smile was definitely forced.

Kol did not like that.

What human in their right mind would be shit-faced stupid enough to steal from an original vampire? Liz figured her extraordinary client probably wondered the same thing.

"I see." Sheriff Forbes retrieved a notebook from her desk drawer and picked up her pen. Perhaps she could ease her nerves in the routine that was this part of her job. She took down his name and beneath it wrote theft. "How long ago was the object taken?" She asked.

"Person," He corrected casually.

"Come again?"

"Not object - person," Kol repeated. "She was taken four days ago."

Liz closed her eyes and sighed. "So you're saying this was a kidnapping?"

"Yes."

"Then why not just say that?" She huffed.

Kol shrugged. "I don't particularly see a difference."

Liz had to resist the temptation to roll her eyes. She scratched out theft and wrote kidnapping next to the date he'd described. "Victim's last name?" She prompted.

"Y/L/N."

She stilled, hoping she was wrong. "First name?"

"I think you know."

Liz looked up and found herself staring into the abyss. The true faces of the vampires she'd seen starred in some of her worst nightmares, but it was a phenomenon she'd only ever caught in brief glimpses. She had never been so close to it nor seen those chilling black eyes on an expression so calm. Although, Kol's grip on that armrest looked pretty violent.

The Sheriff swallowed thickly. "Do you... Do you know for sure who's taken her?"

"I have a pretty good idea," He hissed, deadly fangs on full display. "Tell me where your precious Council took her."

Liz Forbes laid a hand to her gun and spoke calmly. "Kol, I had nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I know that." He leaned back. Another flash of teeth. "Hence, why you're not dead. Tell me what you do know, and you'll remain as such."

She didn't trust him to keep his word but to disobey the request would be suicide. "I don't know where they are, I can only tell you where they might be," Liz said. He waited. "If I had to guess, the old celler under Town Hall would be the first place I'd look. Nobody goes down there and the door's got a trick lock. It's not strong enough to hold a-" She caught herself. "-someone with a little extra punch, but I think it would serve to hold your average high school graduate."

The monster in a young boy's skin nodded sharply and stood. He didn't offer a word of gratitude as he moved to the door.

Sheriff Forbes stood. "Kol?"

He stopped, though he didn't turn back.

"Don't ask me to spare them," He growled. She hadn't noticed it before, but every muscle in his body was tense. His hands were shaking.

"I wasn't." No, she valued her life far too much to do that.

"Then what?" The monster snapped, impatient.

Liz couldn't pretend to understand what the missing girl saw in him, but there was something beneath that inhumane exterior. Perhaps she'd caught a glimpse of it in that ragged desperation she'd seen when he walked through her door - the sort of anger she'd just witnessed doesn't come about without first stemming from some sort of tenderness.

"I was just gonna warn you to expect an ambush," Sheriff Forbes sighed. "It appears some of my deputies think themselves above answering to the law."

Kol Mikaelson hummed and turned back to her with the most horrifying smirk she'd ever seen. "Rest assured, Miss. Forbes... They will answer to me."

***

Four days.

You had been down there for four days.

No food.

No sunlight.

Only a few sips of water each day.

You were so cold. Temperatures in the cellar dropped below freezing at night and weren't much better during the day - you knew because your only entertainment while trapped in this nightmare had been watching the same puddle of water on the ground freeze and thaw over and over. More than once you'd thought you would freeze with it - that you would fall asleep, feeling as warm as the Little Match Girl, and never wake up. The air down there was wet and smelled of mildew. Pneumonia seemed a guarantee in your future.

You were so cold, and tired.

How could you sleep in this frigid prison? You were handcuffed to a steel chair, for crying out loud! Your tailbone and thighs were so sore you didn't think you would ever be able to sit down again, and your wrists were so raw from the edges of the cuffs that every time you shifted, the metal drew blood. One wrong move and you could slit your wrists. Not to mention your kidnappers had done you the favor of forcing a gag into your mouth and it had dried your tongue and throat beyond belief. Trying to swallow felt like eating sandpaper with a side of mulch. How could you sleep like that? Both the cuffs and the chair, you recognized. They were from the police station. Sheriff Forbes couldn't have been in on this - that you were sure of. But it seemed that protecting the innocent wasn't what the rest of your hometown's police force was committed to. How could you sleep knowing the town you'd grown up in had turned its back on you?

You were so cold, tired, and hungry.

The last thing you'd eaten was a plate of the Grill's soggy nachos. As far as last meals go, that seemed like a pretty pathetic one to go out on. Sometimes you thought you could still taste the cheese but you were pretty sure you were hallucinating it. Can one's taste buds have hallucinations? You didn't know and you didn't really care. You were so hungry you'd knowingly have eaten poison if it were offered to you. If this were anything like how Kol felt on a daily basis, you couldn't blame him for giving in to temptation. You only wished you could turn off the pain as he could.

You were so cold, and tired, and hungry. And terrified out of your mind.

You'd probably dreamt of Kol coming to rescue you a thousand times, all without ever falling asleep. Yet, every time you opened your eyes, he wasn't there and you were alone. Completely alone. But he would come. You believed that. You had to believe that.

So when the gate to your prison opened and Council members started streaming through, armed with a semi-auto each, you knew you might finally be getting out of there. The iron door dragged on hinges that screeched loud enough to tear holes in your eardrums after four days of nothing but your own hysterics for auditory stimulus and the dim light of the hallway bleached your retinas having spent all that time in the dark.

"The plan's in motion," Oliver Fell-blanc said as he descended the steps, carrying a fireman's axe in his hands. He was Meredith Fell's cousin and the last one to arrive. "It's coming for her."

You nearly cried tears of joy when you heard those words. You probably would've had you been entirely convinced that this was real. None of your other fantasies had begun this way, but that didn't mean much at this point.

"How long do we have?" That sounded like Carter Hamilton's wife. You couldn't remember her name.

"I'd say about three minutes," Oliver answered. You remembered a time when the most nefarious thing that guy would do was commandeer the music at the Lockwood parties. He'd been the one to kidnap you. "If anyone here isn't committed to doing what needs to be done, this is your last chance to chicken out."

"You're sure these bullets can keep it down long enough for you to chop off the head?" Another man asked. That was Wyatt Maxwell. He used to babysit you and your brother when he was in high school. He always read bedtime stories to you and let you have two desserts on Friday nights. You hardly recognized him now. What had become of these people?

"They're laced with vervain. It'll stop the wounds from healing," Hamilton's wife stated confidently.

"Yeah, but will it be enough?" Wyatt pressed.

"Probably." Oliver grinned darkly. "But if it's not, we can always fill that thing with enough holes to make swiss cheese jealous."

The others laughed at that and something inside you shriveled.

"What you should really be worried about is whether Ollie is actually strong enough to swing that axe," Carter Hamilton added, smirking.

"Oh, I'm strong enough, old man." Oliver laughed. "I'm just disappointed I won't be able to hang that creature's head on my wall once this is over with. Hey, wait! Maybe I can pull it out around Halloween! Bet it would scare the pants off some kids!"

"Do whatever you want, man. Hell - use it as a paper weight for all I care. Just as long as you keep it far, far away from the body and me," Wyatt huffed.

So this was why you were here. Their plan for you hadn't changed, you realized. They had just changed your role in it. This was a trap and you were the bait.

Tears welled in your eyes and you clenched your teeth, biting down even harder on the gag in your mouth. You wanted to scream and cry and throw something at this disgusting man, but you were so tired and weak and your throat felt like a desert.

"You bastards," You rasped through the gag. "You're all hateful bastards!"

It mostly just sounded like a series of muffled coughs, but it was enough to draw their attention. The friendly expressions on the faces of the council melted away as they turned their focus on you. There were sixteen of them in total. Sixteen council members, fifteen guns, fifteen rounds per gun. You did the math. They had two hundred and twenty-five vervain-laced bullets. How many could Kol take and still get back up?

"Awww," Oliver sneered. "Is somebody gonna miss her special leech?"

"Don't you touch him!" You cried. "He hasn't done a thing to you! Don't you touch him!"

"What's that? I can't quite hear you. Can you speak up, sweetheart?" He taunted, putting a hand to his ear.

"I hate you." His mocking expression made you want to strangle him but all you could do was cough. "I hate all of you!"

"Nope, still can't hear her." Oliver shrugged and turned back to the other extremists. "You know, the mayor and Sheriff Forbes think the kids in this town are too young to know the truth. Well, I say different!" He pointed an accusing finger in your direction. "You see what happens when kids aren't taught what's right? I say these kids deserve to know about what they're up against! I think we need to make it clear to them what they can and cannot do in this town, and I say we start by making this one an example! This is what you get when you sleep with a bloodsucker!"

The others cheered for his little speech and you couldn't help fearing for your sweet little brother. What would become of him if they got their way? Oliver turned back to you, scowling as he knelt down by your side. You flinched away from him but he snatched a handful of your hair and forced your gaze into the direction of the door.

"You know, sweetheart, you're gonna be that last thing that bloodsucker sees after it walks through that door." He said. "You always did lack conviction, but I'm sure it's gonna suck to live knowing that what happens here today was entirely your fault. I just hope it teaches you better than to be a miserable, kinky, whore."

He kicked your chair and ordered the extremists to take up their positions around the room, calling for total silence. Their heartbeats would be covered by the racket made by the old A/C unit upstairs and they spread out so Kol wouldn't be able to take them all out at once.

All you could do was sit there and curse your ancestors.

It wasn't after too much longer, that you heard footsteps on their way down to the basement. You heard Kol's voice calling your name.

You took a breath.

"Don't come down here!" You screamed as loud as you could. You tried to speak from the back of your throat so the words wouldn't be as muffled through the gag, though you didn't think it did much. "Don't come down here! It's a trap! They have guns! Don't come down!"

Kol didn't listen.

He appeared in the doorway with a relieved smile and started towards you.

"Watch out!"

The Council members opened fire. Fifteen sets of gunshots rang out all at once, echoing around the cavernous stone space and through your brain. It was so loud, too loud. Warmth pooled in your ears and you felt them begin to bleed. Gunshots kept going off but the sounds grew dimmer and dimmer, further and further away. But you weren't concerned about yourself.

Most of the bullets found their mark. Some hit Kol in the chest, others in the stomach, shoulders, and back. He stumbled backward and you watched more than heard him gasp in pain. His eyes were wide as the gunshots finally stopped. He looked down at his chest, almost confused, and then back up to you. The boy coughed and blood spilled from between his lips. Then he fell to his knees, swayed, and collapsed sideways onto the ground.

You screamed again.

Someone asked a question but it was drowned by the ringing in your ears. Another voice shouted something.

Oliver stepped forward, axe in hand, grinning like a maniac. He raised the weapon over his head and you couldn't bear to watch. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Blood, hot and thick, sprayed across your face.

This time, you didn't scream.

But everyone else in the room did.

Your eyes snapped open and in front of you stood Kol; he was holding Oliver's axe. Beside him, sprawled on the polished marble floor, was Oliver's headless corpse. The missing part rolled across the floor to your right. When it came to a stop, its inanimate eyes were wide open. They landed on you.

You shrieked.

After all, you'd seen death before in photos. But this was all too real.

"Hey. Hey!" The words were muffled and dull. "Y/N, look at me! Look at me, darling." You couldn't tear your eyes away from the disembodied head. A gentle hand touched your cheek, guiding you to look into a pair of chocolate eyes. "There. That's it, see? You're alright, Y/N/N. It's alright. This will all be over soon," Kol promised.

On your left, Wyatt raised his gun again. Kol scowled and turned away from you. He spoke, but you couldn't quite pick out what was said as he twirled the axe around and around his hand. The boy shrugged once. Then, moving in a blur, he stood beside Wyatt - axe raised to his throat.

"I SAID DROP THEM!" He roared.

The council members all dropped their guns. In the next second, Kol had swept around the room and gathered all the cast-off weapons before reappearing at the top of the stairs where he left them. He strolled back into the room and pulled the iron door shut with a bang. You watched him weave the steel handle of the fireman's axe through the bars in the door before bending it around the lock.

No one was getting out of this room without his say-so.

Kol returned to you and knelt down, effortlessly snapping the cuffs around your ankles that kept you trapped in that chair, followed by the restraints on your wrists. No longer held against the back of the chair by the cuffs, your body slumped forward, too weak to remain upright. Kol caught you, guiding you down to sit on the floor between his legs with your back leaning against his chest. He tugged the gag from your mouth next, though he didn't bother to untie it completely.

Your ears were ringing and they hurt but Kol was warm and you were a lot more comfortable than you had been. You were so tired, your eyes and limbs felt heavy. Kol would keep you safe. You could fall asleep here.

"No! No, no, darling! Wake up!" He shook you and you groaned. His voice was blurry. You were tired. "Don't go to sleep, love. Not yet! Open your eyes!"

Knowing him, he probably wouldn't leave you alone about it. Probably best to see what he wanted. You forced your eyes open and let your head roll back. Kol's fangs extended and he bit his wrist, then held it out in front of you. That was gross.

You grimaced. "Ew."

"Just drink it," He demanded. You shook your head. "Come on, darling. Please? It'll make you feel better, just drink it."

"No," You groaned. Kol sighed and forced his wrist between your lips anyway. His blood flowed into your mouth and you gaged, squirming in his hold. You thought you'd been desperate enough to swallow anything but apparently, your body still had standards. You whimpered and tried to get away, but the boy's arm around your waist might as well have been a steel bar.

Kol shushed your protests, rocking back and forth in an attempt to comfort you.

"I know, darling. I know you don't want to swallow it, but you have too. It'll make you feel better, I promise. Just swallow it." His voice was sweet and soothing and you were far too tired to fight anymore. You stopped struggling and did as you were told.

Blood, you discovered, tasted just about as nasty as you thought it would. The stuff was hot and thick and it tasted like pennies...

Until it didn't.

You swallowed just a little bit and then a little bit more and suddenly it wasn't so bad. The coppery taste turned sort of sweet, and then very sweet, and then excellent. The pain and ringing in your ears faded and you felt strangely warm.

Kol was talking to you, muttering soft encouragements into your ear. "That's it, yes that's it. That's a good girl. Drink up, my sweet. See, it's not so bad, is it? You're alright now. Just a little more." The pain and sickness faded away. You felt warm, and stronger now - not as strong as you were normally, but strong enough to sit and stand on your own. After a few more moments, Kol pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled his wrist away. You almost made a move to take it back, but he grabbed your hands gently. "Sorry, love. You can have more later, if you still want it, but too much now will make you sick."

You did want more because if anything, you felt more hungry now than you did before and you were more than a little disturbed by that, but you nodded anyway, licking the excess from your lips. "Okay."

"Good," He said. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent. "Can you stay right here for me, sweet-thing? I have to finish this."

You frowned but didn't move. What was he talking about? What was there to finish?

Kol got up and cast his eyes around the room.

"Now, what am I going to do about you lot?" He wondered, lips twisting into a vindictive smirk. He gestured toward you. "She wants me to let all of you live, but I'm afraid I just can't do that. See, I do have a reputation to uphold and it so happens that I've slaughtered entire towns for a lot less than what you've done here. I think you all know the extent of your guilt, but why don't we recap just for fun, eh?" 

"Alright, let's see..." He started counting off on his fingers. 

"You've broken the treaty which you made and signed... plotted against my family... kidnapped the only person in your midst who might have gifted you some mercy... and then you just tried to kill me. I think I'll have to give you a B+ on that last one - not the best or most creative attempt I've seen, though I can give you high marks for enthusiasm." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated movement.

"Unfortunately, that's four strikes against you and the rules clearly say that it's three strikes and you're out."

Kol grinned and you knew you weren't going to like whatever was coming next.

"So, here's what we're going to do. We're going to play a little game."

From inside his jacket pocket, Kol drew forth a pearl-handled pistol. It was intricate - pretty. But that couldn't disguise its true purpose. It was a gun. It was made to kill things.

"I'm assuming you all know what this is?" He said, raising the piece for all sixteen - fifteen - Council members to see. A few of them nodded, eyes flickering with barely concealed horror. Kol watched them and his tongue darted out to wet his lips in a way that belied excitement. He continued. "Now, contained within this... quaint little trinket is exactly one bullet. It's not wooden - just plain old lead - and one of you is going to be the lucky winner who gets to fire it into their skull!"

"No..." Your breath caught in your throat and something in your stomach twisted violently. This was wrong. This was horrid and vile and you felt sick. You shook your head, struggling to stand on legs that hadn't seen use in days. "No. No, no, no. Kol, don't-"

He cut you off with a hum and a finger raised in your direction, his expression grim. He'd never looked at you that way. Anyone else, yes. But never, ever, you. Those eyes sent a blast of liquid nitrogen through your veins. You froze in your tracks. His eyes slid back to the fifteen others.

"Say, where was I again?" He mused, scratching the back of his head with the barrel of that very loaded gun. The boy grinned. "Ah, that's right - suicide. Quite poetic, don't you think? Only fitting for what you've done. Anyway, over the course of the next few minutes, I'm going to eat the rest of you - all but one." Someone screamed - a woman, probably married into this insanity, just going along with her lover's fear. Kol gasped mockingly and turned her with a cruel smirk, stalking closer.

"It'll be a slow, painful, and graphic death, I assure you." He spoke so softly, so soothingly. "You'll die screaming and begging. But-" He paused, drinking in their rapt, horrified attention. "-There is a way out..."

Please, please, please don't do this. Just walk away, you pleaded silently. He didn't stop.

"The bullet in this chamber is your only escape. If you want to die peacefully, painlessly, and instantly... then you're going to have to fight each other for it."

The vampire grinned pleasantly and, with a flick of his wrist, slid the weapon across the marbled floor where it skidded to a stop in the middle of the room.

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

You were shaking. No, no, no... Anything but this.

"Go on then, you savage animals..." Kol entreated, spreading his hands. "Entertain me."

This was wrong. You couldn't just stand here!

"Kol, no!" You rasped. He whipped around, glaring at you with eyes like smoldering ice. This wasn't your friend. You didn't know what he was. "What are you doing?"

He ground his teeth. "Getting retribution, darling," He snarled, lips curling. It was the expression of a predator. "I think it's best you stay quiet and not get involved with this."

You ignored him. "Kol, you can't! This isn't right and you know it!"

"I can do whatever I wish," He snapped. "I've already stayed my hand far too long on your account. It's time the cattle be put back in their place."

His words were shards of glass permeating your heart and you could feel them with every beat.

You clenched your jaw and stood your ground. "So is that all I am to you?"

His expression softened just the slightest fraction - not enough for anyone else to notice, but you knew him. He didn't break your gaze as he drew a deep breath and his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Just... stay still," He ordered. "Please don't test my patience."

"What?" Who the hell did he think he was talking to? "Kol, snap out of this! It's me!"

His hands curled into fists, knuckles white. "You need to stop talking."

"Or what?" You challenged, blinking back the sting of your tears. "You'll hurt me?"

"I don't want to," He said, narrowing his eyes. "But I'm one step short of ravenous at the moment, not to mention royally irritated, and highly likely to do something I'll regret. This is a warning - don't push it."

That wasn't a warning. That was a threat.

You shook your head, lips pressed into a thin line. "I trusted you," You hissed. "I gave up everything for you. How dare you talk to me like that?"

Kol sighed.

Then he was standing directly in front of you. Faster than lightning, his hand shot out and wrapped around the base of your throat. His other hand grasped your hip and then the cool stone wall of the cellar was pressed against your back. You gasped and coughed, reaching up to claw his hand off your airway. He was choking you! You were choking! You were-

Wait...

No, you weren't choking. Kol wasn't hurting you, he was holding your neck. There was no pressure being applied.

You looked up, into his eyes. They weren't cold at all. They were flooded with too many emotions to name, roiling and frothing like a forest of reeds in a windstorm. Blackness ebbed and flowed in them, clashing like well-matched opponents. You recognized them both - the sweet boy you knew, and the monster inside him grappled in front of you, fighting for control. He was fighting. Kol was trying.

You reached up to touch his cheek. "Kol, please?"

For a split second, you caught sight of him. Your Kol - the boy you'd given everything to, the boy you lo-, the one who cared about you - for a moment, he surfaced. He fought off the beast inside him and his eyes, free of bloodlust, met yours with a pleading. Kol's hands shifted. Taking a gentle grasp of your wrists, he pinned them up against the wall behind you. Then he surged forward and captured your mouth with his. Pressing his whole body against yours, he licked at the seam of your lips in a kiss so soft and ardent it could only mean "I'm sorry."

He hesitated to pull away. "Please," He whispered against your lips. "Please don't hate me for this?"

If there was ever a time to admit what you'd been ignoring for months - this was it. If there was ever a time to spit the words that flickered like flames in your chest every time he kissed you - it was now. If there was ever a time to say I love you-

You opened your mouth.

Kol ripped the gag off your neck and, with eyes full of misery, forced it between your lips again, tying it up tight behind your head. Your eyes flew wide and you screamed against the fabric, but he just stepped back. Blackness filled Kol's eyes once more and he turned away from you.

The gun remained on the cold marble floor - pristine and untouched. He gestured toward it, humming.

"No takers then, I see? Funny, I even gave you a head start." He shrugged. "Well, no matter. More for me, I suppose!"

The name of Carter Hamilton's wife, you remembered, was Eliza.

Kol went for her first.

He grabbed her by the hair, twisting, and tore his dagger-like teeth into her slim throat. You shrieked and sobbed against the gag but the monster wouldn't stop. He didn't just bite her - he ripped her flesh apart and he did it right in front of her husband. Eliza's corpse landed in a very lifeless heap when he finally wrenched his teeth from her mutilated neck. You could see her spine amidst the carnage and it was just like those pictures you'd never wanted to see again.

No one in the room moved.

"Little sour that one," He observed, looking Carter in the eyes as he licked his wife's blood from his fingers. "Your turn."

When Kol sank his teeth into his next victim, you screamed again. Tears streamed down your face as, in a state of chilled, suspended horror, you witnessed the other Council members play Kol's game. All twelve of them made a break for the gun on the floor, fighting over it like the savage animals he'd claimed they were. They scrabbled and kicked, scraping at eyes and twisting back limbs as they brutalized one another, seeking a chance to kill themselves.

You couldn't watch.

Curling yourself up against the wall, you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing the stone would just swallow you whole. You could cover your ears but you couldn't block out the screams as Kol feasted.

There was no use in screaming, but you just wanted this butchery to stop. You just wanted the monster under Kol's skin to release the boy you'd fallen for. You just wanted him to come back to you. The boy who'd kissed you so softly mere moments before wasn't - couldn't - be this appalling monster, bathed in red.

But he was.

Your parents hadn't been right about him, but they hadn't been wrong either. He liked the killing and he liked the death and that wasn't going to change just because you let him kiss you. It wasn't his fault. This had been made of him and Kol couldn't change his nature. Yet no matter how hard you wished it, he would never need you more than he needed the slaughter. He wasn't going to change just because you asked.

But you were scared and hungry, and cold, and terrified, so that was all you could really do. Ask. So for each lifeless shell that hit the ground, a slurry of jumbled pleas spewed from your lips.

Thirteen

"Kol, please stop? I wanna go home now," You muttered to yourself, scraping at the stone wall as if you might crawl inside.

Twelve

"I don't wanna be here. I don't wanna see any of this. Kol, please stop? Just stop an-and we can leave? We can run away - we can go anywhere you want. Kol, please?"

Eleven

"Please. Please, just stop? You don't have to. I know you can't help it. If you're hungry, I -I trust you. Please, just let them go?"

Ten

A Gunshot - Nine.

Eight

"Kol, I'm scared. You're scaring me. Please stop, you're scaring me."

Seven

"Kol, you're breaking your promise. You promised me - you said I didn't have to be afraid of you. Please, stop breaking your promise?"

Six

"I love you, Kol. Please stop?"

And, like the flip of a switch, the killing ceased.

You couldn't move - couldn't stop babbling. It was as if every muscle in your body was frozen except for your tongue.

"I love you, Kol Mikaelson," You wept quietly against the gag in your mouth. The words would have been muffled beyond recognition to anyone else, but not to him. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou. Please, stop so I can tell you for real?"

The basement was silent for a moment. Then that boy's voice pierced through the low light.

"You love me?" The question was so soft you were sure you'd imagined it.

Your throat felt like sandpaper and you couldn't stop shaking, but perhaps you could pretend like the monster wasn't here, so you nodded anyway, too tired to keep talking through the fabric in your mouth. Footsteps approached slowly and someone knelt down in front of you. It was probably the monster wearing his skin, but you could pretend it wasn't. He reached around your head and untied the knot, lifting the course material away from your face. You gasped, desperate for a real lungful of air as your whole body shook from fear and exhaustion.

"Say that again," He said. It wasn't an order but it wasn't exactly a request either. Your throat felt like sandpaper and you couldn't stop shaking, but you spoke through it.

"I love you Kol Mikaelson."

Kol's breath hitched, though he tried not to let it show. He brushed the back of his fingers along your forearm. His hand was too warm - something like ninety-eight degrees - but at least it wasn't slick with blood. At least he'd tried to wipe it off, which you appreciated even though you flinched away.

He sighed heavily. It sounded broken.

"You really shouldn't," He said eventually.

"I know," You whispered. You shook your head and shrugged haplessly. "I know, but I can't help it."

"Darling..." His voice entreated, warm and soft like honey and silk. "Y/N, can you look at me?"

Regaining your breath, or at least some of it, you shook your head, pushing yourself impossibly closer to the wall. "I miss you."

"I'm right here," He said soothingly. You were grateful he didn't try to touch you again. "Darling, I'm right here."

"You're here, but you're not mine," You replied. "You hate them too much."

He didn't deny it. No, he didn't deny it because he promised he'd never lie to you. His breaths were deep but he couldn't hold onto them for long. Perhaps, his chest - like yours - hurt too much when he tried. "I can't fix this, can I?" He spoke softly though there was still something bitter in it. It was enough to make you flinch again when he rested his hand on your knee, but this time he didn't draw away. You relaxed as much as you could.

"No." You answered. He cursed quietly and traced invisible patterns onto your jeans and his voice sounded like what tornados leave behind - like devastation.

"Have I broken you?"

There. There was the sweet boy you'd fallen in love with. No trace of the monster now. You looked up, studying his face. He should have looked more like a monster. After all, Kol was drenched in crimson - his mouth most especially. Yet, oddly enough, the sight didn't twist your stomach. You supposed you couldn't feel any more ill than you did already, but that wasn't really it.

He hesitated to lift his head - hesitated to meet your gaze, but when he did, you saw longing and sorrow. That boy's eyes simply weren't those of a monster.

A smile, thin as a crumpled note, found its way to your lips. "Yes," You told him. "You've broken me."

But, damn it all - you didn't want it to end like this.

As awful as it was, as twisted as it deemed your soul - you still loved him. It wasn't something you could just turn off. You loved the boy who laughed at your jokes and braided your hair when you asked. You loved the boy who took you to mountain tops for coffee and twirled you around the living room for absolutely no reason at all. You adored the boy who watched classic movies with you, even though he always ended up watching your face instead of the screen. You cherished the boy who bought you ice cream when you were sad and took you on late-night walks when you couldn't sleep - who told you stories when you didn't want to. You loved the boy who kissed and held you so gently every night because he cared enough to do so.

Now, here that boy knelt in front of you, having massacred people you'd known all your life, yet still, you could not hate him. It wasn't his fault he'd been made into this. So, perhaps it made you downright evil, but you could love a bloodthirsty monster if it meant keeping the rest of him.

After all, this just wasn't his fault.

And you realized then, that it wasn't yours either. It couldn't be, because you hadn't done anything wrong. Refusing to hate or hunt the supernatural wasn't wrong. Choosing the life you wanted wasn't wrong. Agreeing to go on a date with Kol - falling in love with him despite it all - none of that was wrong!

Yet, every single human in that damp, frigid seller had chosen to be there. You had done nothing wrong, and yet they still chose to hurt you. They had no excuse - no curse inflicting a hunger they couldn't control. They were just bad, hateful people who had no real reason to be that way.

That made each one of them more vile a monster than Kol could ever be.

Kol bowed his head, hiding his face from you but his shoulders shook. You didn't want it to end this way.

You placed your hand over the one he'd rested on your knee and guided him to move it higher, onto your thigh. Kol froze and lifted his head, eyeing you with curiosity far too weary to be labeled as hope.

"You've broken me," You repeated. Your chest didn't hurt when you drew in another breath. You felt certain of this somehow. "But I still love you... and I think that maybe sometimes we need to break things to make sure we fixed all the cracks."

Kol's eyes were rimmed with red, but not the frightening kind. He looked away, blinking rapidly as he distracted himself by trying to wipe the blood from his lips. His sleeve turned red. You'd have to make sure he bought a new one.

Finally, he met your eyes again. "I didn't mean for this to happen," He apologized. The regret in his tone was as thick as blood. "I wasn't thinking. I just- I needed to hurt them and I never meant for you to be there when I did. I should be able to control this by now. I-I thought I could, but I don't care about anyone as much as I care about you and I just wasn't expecting to hate them so much once I saw what they did." He shook his head, blinking rapidly. "But I never meant to hurt you, and I don't want you to be afraid of me. It was supposed to be everyone else, you see? Everyone but you."

You nodded. "I think I can forgive you."

He smiled but it really wasn't happy. "It would be better if you didn't," He said. "I'm not good for you, darling," His voice was surprisingly even.

"I know."

"I'm not human. I'm not good for anyone. I'm nothing you deserve. "

You shook your head. "I don't care." You realized it as you said it and it was an awful thing to say, but that couldn't make it any less true. "I don't care about the things you're not because I've already got my hands full with all that you are."

"I am a bit of a handful, aren't I?" He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "But you're my handful."

"Your handful." His chocolate eyes twinkled with something very, very happy. You'd never seen it so clearly in him. Hope. He moved in closer and leaned in to rest his forehead against yours, lightly brushing noses in that familiar Inuit Kiss. "Would you be frightened if I said I love you?"

"Do you?"

He smirked. "How about I take you home and show you?" Kol purred. His eyes flicked down to where his hand rested on your leg and then back up. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively squeezing your thigh. Your eyes fluttered shut. Perhaps you should have been more worried after everything you'd just seen him do, but you weren't. You couldn't help but love the way he touched you. For hands that maimed and tortured were gentle just for you.

In spite of everything you'd been through - the exhaustion, the starvation, and the sheer freaking horror show you'd just witnessed - you couldn't help but laugh. "Kol, sweetheart... I really don't think now's the time!"

"Oh, please! I'm kidding!"

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @sleepneverheardofher @princess-charming-01

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Kiss Me Once (I've Had A Long Night)

Description: The hour is late, and Marius is exhausted, not that fatigue has ever stopped him from working late into the night before. But there are ways he can be coaxed into resting early, so long as his beloved is involved.

Pairing: Marius von Hagen x OC (Rowan)

Warnings: None (although there is some SLIGHT suggestive content but this is Marius we're talking about lads)

Notes: Hello hello!!! This is my very first attempt at a Marius fic!!! He's just so silly and cute I think it was inevitable. I hope this makes you smile as much as I did when I wrote it!!!

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A soft groan, nearly mistakable for a sigh, had the usual sighs that fell from his lips not been loud and dramatic, meant to draw attention rather than convey any true emotion.

Rowan looked up from the screen of her laptop, propped precariously on her lap as she’d worked on her own projects while Marius was busy. He’d only just returned to his office, his crisp suit jacket tossed haphazardly to the side as he cradled his head in one palm, a rare moment of vulnerability he would never let anyone else see.

She closed her computer, setting it to the side before making her way across the office, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the soft rug that had been thrown across the floor. Marius looked up as she approached, the bags under his eyes more prominent than they had been that morning.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, perching on the edge of his desk, gently brushing his hair back from his brow.

He offered a wan smile, trying to summon up the last of the energy and charisma she had seen before they’d parted ways in front of Pax. He’d feigned confidence at the time, shrugging off her concerns about some of the long meetings he was scheduled for that day.

And it was clear that she had been right to be worried, as she peered down into Marius’ exhausted face, lines forming between his brows as they pressed together, the corners of his lips turning down in the slightest of frowns.

Rowan’s heart ached, and she reached out to gather him in her arms, cradling his head against her chest before he could even give words to whatever was weighing him down.

He snorted, although his arms still wrapped themselves around her waist, holding himself closer, breathing in the smell of her shirt and the new perfume he had given her.

“Did you miss me that much?” He asked, his voice muffled, his face still smushed against her chest.

She gently shoved him away, frowning down at the little smirk that had curved across his lips. His hands slid to her waist, and she resisted sighing as he stroked his thumb in small circles against her side.

He chuckled. “You couldn’t even handle sitting a few feet away from me?”

Now she smacked him, although that did little to quell the mischievous light that danced in his amethyst eyes. Not that it lasted for very long, fatigue smothering the impish mask he had tried to draw across his face.

“Marius,” she said, his name on her lips much softer than she had intended. She’d been hoping to go for a more admonishing tone, but it came off as more of a quiet plea.

He sighed again, more dramatically than he had the first time, very clearly playing it up, never one to leave out the dramatics when he could. He laid his head on her lap, the light in his eyes dying as he huffed.

“I’m alright,” he said, although he did not make eye contact, instead still staring at the papers scattered over his desk that he had been pouring over for hours already.

She ran her fingers through his hair, mussing the dark locks as he closed his eyes, not even bothering to make a quip about ruining his hair. Or perhaps what the ruining of his hair would imply, as they had been alone for so many hours.

Rowan narrowed her eyes further, not sure she liked this sudden quiet. It was very unlike him, even when half asleep he would sometimes murmur soft words, barely heard in that liminal space between waking and sleeping. Or he would whimper if she moved, shifting closer again and burying his face against her shoulder.

Unnerved with the silence, Rowan pinched Marius’ cheek, tugging until his eyes flew open, the light catching in his eyes so they shone like gems.

“You’re clearly not alright,” she groused, releasing his cheek and leaning down to brush a kiss to the splotch of red she had left on his skin. “You’ve barely made a single joke.”

He groaned, closing his eyes once again. “I’ll have you know I can make meaningful conversation without joking around.”

“You’re not even making conversation,” she pointed out, laughing softly. “Marius, you’re worrying me.”

Another groan, as though it physically pained him as he drew himself up from her lap, his eyes slowly opening again to find her own.

“I don’t mean to worry you,” he said, words so soft they were little more than breath. He dug the heels of his hands against his eyes before dropping them onto the desk, glaring down at the papers he disturbed and sent scattering along the wooden surface. “It’s been a long day.”

She cupped his cheeks, drawing his gaze back to hers as she tipped his head up. “Was it the meetings? You were in the last one for two hours longer than usual.”

He pursed his lips, covering her hands with his. “I’m the president and still it feels like they hardly listen to me. It’s just getting a little tiring lately.”

“You’re doing the best you can,” she said, stroking her thumb across his cheek. “That’s all you can do, my love.”

“Feels like I could be doing more.”

She snorted, leaning forward to press a kiss to his brow. “Well not much is going to get done this late at night. Why don’t we go home?”

He whimpered when she started pulling away, his hands tightening on her wrists. Stifling a smile, Rowan dotted another few kisses across his face. “If we go home I promise there’s more where that came from.”

Marius hummed, squeezing her wrists where his hands encircled them. “It sounds like you just want an excuse to kiss me.”

Rowan would have scoffed and pulled away had she not been now trapped in a precarious position, Marius holding fast to her arms, moving close enough that there was no escape route.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could scoot herself backwards on his desk and then kick him away, but she knew that would look utterly absurd and she didn’t want to knock over any of the books or papers or pens that littered his desk.

“If that’s not what you want, you can just say so,” she huffed, pulling away from him so at least his face wasn’t a mere breath away from her own.

His lips pulled into a pout almost instantly, and he whined as he stood, thumbs stroking against her arms. “I didn’t say that. I was only joking, please don’t be mad.”

It was incredibly difficult to ever be mad when he was looking at her like that, his eyes wide and pleading, his bottom lip trembling like he might burst into tears at any moment. He clasped his hands around hers, tugging them towards his chest. “Please, miss.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, although that was not enough to stop her smile. He was too cute, and he surely knew it. She’d never been able to say no to his face as it was, and she certainly couldn’t when he looked as he did now.

“I’m not mad,” she said at last, wishing she could stop grinning even as relief shone in his eyes, nearly hiding the smug delight sparking in their depths.

“But,” she continued, wrestling one arm free to tap his cheek. “If you want anything more then we have to go home.”

A sigh, this one full of the dramatics she was accustomed to. His head tipping to the side, his shoulders slumping forward, his forehead crinkling as his brows drew together.

“You win,” he said at last, although a smile touched his lips, as though he were anything but annoyed to finally be leaving the office.

Unfortunately, Rowan didn’t notice as Marius quickly gathered up the paperwork he had been going through and tucked it into his bag before offering her his arm. The building would be all but deserted by now, and there would be no one to spy on them or make comments about their president being a little too cozy in public with his girlfriend.

He dozed beside her on the car ride home, his head falling on her shoulder, his lashes tickling her throat as he struggled to keep his eyes open. She struggled to stifle her laughter, not wanting to disturb him. He was so tired, and she wasn’t sure she had even realized how tired he had been all day. He needed this small nap, even if it was only to give him the energy to get ready for bed.

He grew whiny as the car drew to a stop, clinging to Rowan as they climbed from their seats and made their way to their room. She had to very nearly pry his arms from her waist so she could shower, instructing him to get ready for bed.

Unfortunately, it was only once Rowan emerged from the shower, rivulets of water snaking down her cheeks and down the back of her neck from her still-damp hair, that she realized he had snuck his paperwork home.

Marius looked up from whatever he had been reading, shock registering in his face a moment too slow before Rowan was beside him, arms crossed as she glowered down at the papers in his hands. She felt equal parts furious and heartbroken, having wanted to take care of him for just a few hours, to alleviate at least a little of his stress. And here he was, working after he’d said he was done.

“Marius. Von. Hagen,” she ground out, internally deciding that she would not be changing into the new, wispy nightgown that had mysteriously shown up in her drawer a few days prior.

He had the gall to give her a cheeky smile, arching his brow as his gaze swept over her bathrobe. His eyes shifted to her chest, where the fabric flopped forward, and Rowan furiously tightened the ties, ensuring there was nothing for him to see.

“I thought you were going to rest,” she said, her voice coming out too close to a whine. She wanted to sound annoyed, angry even. Why couldn’t he care about his health and his rest for just one day?

His smug expression fell, his shoulders slumping. “I just want to get this done, I’ll earn more respect if I can complete this.”

She perched beside him, at a loss for words as his lips pressed into a thin line. Instead she just took his hand, gently pressing her thumbs into his palm.

“What are you doing?” He asked, some of that stress falling away as he watched her, bemused.

“Massaging your hand,” she groused, feeling like she ought to glower at him, but not being able to. She just wanted to hold him close, wanted to take all his worries away. “So they don’t cramp.”

He was silent for a moment, only the sound of paper shuffling filling the air as he ducked his head.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked at last, peeking up at her from beneath the fringe of his bangs.

“No, of course not,” she said, letting one hand fall and reaching for his other. “I just… I just wish you would rest a little more, and take time for yourself. Your best isn’t working yourself into the ground, or losing sleep.”

He dropped his gaze, setting the papers to the side as he squirmed in place. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s not something you need to apologize for,” she said, lowering his hand back into his lap. She turned her thoughts over in her mind again and again, trying to find the right words to convey how she felt, the strange helplessness over watching him grow more and more stressed.

“I think I would just like to help, and I don’t really know how.”

“This helps,” he said, voice soft as freshly fallen snow. “You being here helps.”

Rowan hummed, taking Marius’ head and cradling him against her shoulder. “Would something like a massage help you at all? At least to feel a little less stressed?”

“I’m sure it would, but-”

“You know…” She continued, trailing off as she curled a lock of his hair around her finger. “I might have learned how to give a massage.”

Marius pulled away, quirking a brow as a smirk slid across his lips. “You did?”

Rowan huffed, regretting having told him anything. Although she should have anticipated this kind of response, and it wasn’t like she had learned it just because. She’d paid for a day class, so she could help ease any of the aches in his body, help wash away some of the stress and tension he carried with him day-to-day.

She felt heat crawl across her cheeks as Marius continued to regard her carefully, his smile spreading. He looked partly curious, but mostly there was a self-satisfied pleasure in his eyes, a joy that only came from finding something worth teasing her about.

Now he was the one cupping her face, the mood entirely shifting as his eyes held fast to hers. His hand shifted down the column of her throat, his thumb gently pressing against the spot where her pulse was thrumming wildly now, with Marius so very close to her.

“Did you take a class, just for me?” He asked, his voice lilting with his obvious delight. “Were you so worried about me?”

She puffed out her cheeks, trying to pull away. Her face was burning now, and she could feel the flush of her skin beginning to creep down her neck, over her shoulders and down her chest. Her entire body was surely the colour of a burning sunset now, and she knew if she stayed so close to him any longer she would turn firetruck red and Marius would tease her for it until she could barely speak.

“Ah, don’t go,” he whined, pouting as she managed to drag herself from his grasp. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I really am.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, crossing her arms as she put space between the two of them. “And if you don’t want a massage you can just say so. It’s not like it would be very good anyways.”

His bottom lip quivered, and he pressed his palms against his thighs. “I didn’t say that. Please come back.”

There was really no point in resisting him, not when her heart was already aching from the small distance between them. She wanted to be close again, even if it meant risking catching fire from the heat he always ignited with his words.

So Rowan returned to his side, directing him to turn around so she could properly attempt to massage his back.

“Shouldn’t I take my shirt off?” He asked, voice dipping low as he peeked at her over his shoulder, smirking once more. “Would you like that?”

She clicked her tongue, trying to ignore the warmth blooming in her cheeks once more. She really could not catch a break with this man, could she?

“Taking your shirt off would be better, yes,” she said, trying to keep her tone prim. As if he hadn’t already sketched his gaze across her face, noting the colour staining her cheeks, creeping up towards her hair and over the shell of her ears.

He kept his gaze locked on hers as he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it to the side before slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

Rowan’s fingers itched to help him along, to slide her fingers down his chest as she undid the buttons for him. But Marius seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, smiling wider as he quickly slipped his shirt off and let it fall next to his jacket, denying her any chance of helping.

She bit her tongue to temper her annoyance. What a brat.

“How’s that?” He asked, turning around so all she could see were the planes of his back, the flex of his muscles as he tried to straighten his posture.

She tasted blood in her mouth now, and she had to stop biting her tongue lest she bite through it entirely. Was he teasing her? Was he teasing her with the knowledge that his chest was bared, but she could not see it?

Shaking her head, Rowan tried to dispel the desire that crept at the edges of her mind. It was late, she really did just want Marius to feel relaxed enough to sleep.

“It’s perfect,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

His shoulders shook as he laughed quietly, the muscles in his back again flexing. It was all Rowan could do not to follow the curve of his spine lowers, to not think about how broad his shoulders were, how slender his waist.

Instead, she settled her hands on his shoulders, trying to remember the lone class she had taken. She’d been so nervous she’d sat in the back, not wanting to draw any attention to herself.

She ran her hands along his shoulders then back towards his neck, gently pressing her thumbs against the skin of his back, massaging gently at the nape of his neck before she slid her hands up then down again. She repeated the motion a few times, certain she was catching on knots of tension in his shoulders.

A soft sigh slipped past his lips, his head hanging forward. Rowan smiled to herself, sliding her hands down his back, pressing the heels of her hands down on either side of his spine until she reached his hips. She hesitated for a moment before moving her hands to either side of his waist and sliding them back up to his shoulder blades.

She paused for a moment, a slight ache in her arms. Marius was a good deal taller than she was, and it was quickly becoming awkward reaching for his shoulders in their current position.

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, genuine curiosity and what might have been a touch of disappointment staining his tone. “Why’d you stop?”

Rowan worried her bottom lip, wondering if it was worth mentioning.

“Rowan? What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t stay silent when he was looking at her so mournfully, not when there was such pleading in his eyes.

“It just feels a little awkward how we’re sitting right now,” she admitted, pressing her hands to her chest so she did not wring them as his brows slowly lifted. “I was thinking it might be easier if you lie down on the bed.”

The ghost of a smile curled at the corners of his lips, the amethyst of his eyes turning to the wine-dark of the sea. His tone was sultry, and it lingered in the air as he breathed a quiet “oh?”

Feeling as though a fire had been lit in her bones, Rowan smacked him gently, scooting backwards. “Not like that. My arms just ache a little from having to lift them up to reach your shoulders.”

His grin widened, but then he stood, seeming to oblige. “Alright. Let me change out of my clothes.” His gaze swept over her, colour staining his cheeks. “You should, too. It can’t be comfortable in that robe.”

She blinked, having nearly forgotten she was still wearing her bathrobe. Rowan stood quickly, nearly skidding into the dresser in her haste to grab her pajamas. But Marius stayed her hand as she grabbed for the soft sleep shirt and matching pants with little purple stars stitched down the sleeves and legs.

“Not those,” he said, his gaze directed towards the folded nightgown beside them. “Why not that one? It looks new.”

“I don’t know what you think is happening here,” Rowan said, slowly drawing her hand from his grip. “But I am still a little annoyed with you.”

He pouted. “Come on, miss. I had it made just for you.”

She sighed, her head falling back as she dropped the pajamas. “Fine, you win.”

He beamed, taking her hand once more and brushing his lips to her knuckles. “Thank you, love. I love to see you in such pretty things.”

She cradled her hand to her chest once he’d released it, unable to meet his gaze now as he continued to grin. “I just didn’t want to argue with you when I want you to rest right now.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pinch her cheek playfully. “Alright. I’ll be right back, try not to miss me.”

She scowled as he slipped into the bathroom, quickly changing from her robe into the flimsy, violet nightgown. She ran her hands down the sides, feeling the soft embroidered flowers and vines that twined together, creeping up towards the nearly scandalous neckline. The sheer sleeves billowed over her arms, cinching at her wrists, and they do had a curling pattern of petals and blooming flowers and vines. Peering at herself in the mirror, Rowan felt as though she were wearing a garden bathed in the strange light of the pre-dawn, when the moon was sinking and the indigo of night was softening into violets and lavenders, not yet stained by the gold of the sun.

“It’s beautiful, right?”

Rowan spun around at the sound of Marius’ voice, not having heard him as he finished up in the bathroom. He padded towards her, looking more awake than he had before, his eyes shining with barely veiled desire.

“You look beautiful,” he continued, hands falling to her hips, trailing down lower, towards the hem that barely reached past her upper thighs. His lips brushed against her ear, goosebumps trailing down her arms and legs as his breath tickled her face. “So beautiful.”

Her stomach twisted, heat flaring in her core, and she had to press both hands to his chest and gently shove him away. It was late, he was certainly tired.

“You promised-”

“I didn’t promise anything,” he said, mischief in his smile as he took her hands from his chest, brushing his lips against them again and again.

Rowan’s legs were beginning to feel weak, and she was struggling to think straight. Hadn’t this started innocently enough? She’d only wanted to help him relax, and now he was teasing her, trying to get her to give in to his mischief.

Steeling herself, Rowan managed to wrestle one hand free, pinching his cheek. “Marius! Von! Hagen!”

He had the gall to continue grinning, covering her hand with his as though she were touching him tenderly. “Yes, my love?”

“No funny business!”

“There’s nothing funny about what I want to do-”

She pinched his cheek harder, and he swatted her hand away, laughing. “Alright, alright. You win, this time.”

She scowled, pointing to the bed. “Lie down.”

He lifted his hands, palms up as though in surrender. “Yes ma’am.”

“You’re really trying my patience right now.”

“If you’d like-”

She pointed at the bed again. “Lie! Down!”

Marius was still laughing as he did as he was told, lying face down on the bed, gathering the pillows up in his arms as he tilted his head to the side, watching as she approached.

“What am I going to do with you?” She grumbled, kneeling next to him, trying to remember where she had left off.

“Love me, I hope,” he suggested. “Kiss me?”

She sighed, covering her face. “Marius, do you want me to do this or not?”

Another huff of laughter, followed by a sigh as he readjusted, getting more comfortable. “Alright, my love. I’m at your mercy.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a small smile tugged at her lips.

The angle now was certainly a bit better, and Rowan felt more comfortable moving from his back to his shoulders. She circled her palms over his shoulder blades before dipping her hands lower once more, the heels of her hands meeting a few inches above the waist of her sleep pants. She slid her hands back up his spine then, thumbs pressing against his spine until she reached the base of his neck and she smoothed her palms across his shoulders.

“Does that feel okay?” She asked, gently leaning forward and putting more weight into her hands.

Marius hummed, and she took that as a yes, and repeated the motions a few more times, pausing periodically to check in to see if he was still feeling alright.

She hoped this work, she really sincerely did hope this would help him feel at least a little better. And maybe he would wake in the morning and feel some of his stress and anxieties gone, and he wouldn’t feel so panicked to finish some of the work he’d been going through.

“Marius,” she said, running her hands over his shoulders. “Can you please move your arms, I can try massaging those too if you want.”

There was no response, only the gentle sigh of his breath.

“Marius?” She asked again, pausing her movements. “Are you okay?”

Still there was no response. Rowan shifted, leaning over so she could get a look at his face, hoping to grab his attention if he had spaced out.

Instead she was met with Marius’ sleeping face, his eyes closed, lashes fanning out against the curve of his cheeks, even breaths falling from his slightly parted lips.

“Oh Marius,” she breathed, brushing his bangs back from his face. All that teasing and he’d fallen asleep in mere minutes.

Her heart ached, and fatigue weighed heavy on her body. The soft blankets and Marius’ warmth were like a siren song, coaxing her towards sleep and oblivion. He looked so sweet, so warm and comfortable. How could she not want to curl up beside him and sleep?

“Goodnight, my love,” she murmured, brushing the whisper of a kiss against his cheek. “I hope you sleep well, and you feel better in the morning.”

She fiddled with the blankets, struggling to drag them out from underneath him so she could drape them over his sleeping form. And then she tucked herself beneath the blankets too, wrapping her arms around his waist and nestling as close as she could, smiling as she felt herself drifting off, happy she was able to ease at least a little of the stress he was forever carrying around. Even if he’d teased her for it. And she would happily do it again, would happily do anything if it meant making his day a little better.

“I love you,” she whispered, wiggling closer. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

[dont-touch-my-soup]

Alone again

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CW: captivity, nightmares, grief, self-blame, references to past traumata

It was late already but Jinn couldn’t sleep.

The shadows moved around him as if they were alive. They whispered his name. Again and again.

They are just shadows. They can’t talk.

He knew that. He knew it was just the wind outside. He knew the shadows couldn’t hurt him. Not here. Not now. But still, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing them reach for him with their long claws and ...

He pressed his back against the wall, not letting the shadows out of his line of sight.

It had been better. Even when he wasn’t sleeping in Kell’s bed the nightmares had almost stopped tormenting him.

But now they were back.

And somehow it didn’t matter if he was asleep or not.

His eyes were heavy with exhaustion while the shadows circled him like hungry wolves. Until Jinn couldn’t take it anymore. His heart was beating violently against his chest as he scraped the last shards of his bravery together and climbed out of bed. His toes touched the dark floor and he shuddered.

They are just shadows. They can’t hurt me.

He reached the door and opened it almost noiseless. The floor was quiet and empty.

He held his breath and counted to five.

His hands were shaking when he pushed Kell’s door open and rushed in as fast as he could.

The door closed with a soft click that echoed in his ears. He took a deep breath. Then another one. And another.

Before he finally turned around to face the room.

Everything looked like Kell would be back any minute. 

But he wouldn’t.

Tears crept in Jinn’s eyes. Kell was still gone. And he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see him again.

Whatever Oryn was doing to him now, it was Jinn’s fault.

For a long moment Jinn stood at the door, staring at the empty bed.

The moon was full, and its light shone softly right onto the bed like a magical protection.

Then he heard the whispers again.

Just shadows, just shadows. They can’t hurt me.

But then one of the shadows swirled towards him and Jinn moved before he could think about it. He ran to the bed and jumped in, drawing the blanket tightly around him.

The blankets were cold, but they still smelled like Kell.

Tears fell before Jinn was even lying. And the tears turned into sobs.

He curled into a ball and wept as quietly as he could.

He missed Kell.

And he missed his brother. The pain in his chest was so sharp it was hard to breathe.

He pressed his hands against his ribs. As if it could ease the pain.

But nothing could do that. He was alone again.

***

Kell heard them coming down the corridor. His whole body trembled as he sat up. The room swirled around him, cold sweat lingering on his skin. He pressed his back against the wall behind him hoping it would just swallow him. 

It didn’t.

The footsteps halted. Kell stared at the door, frozen in fear, his heart racing in his chest.

He was still trying to blink away his blurry vision when the lock clicked open. Kell clenched his hand into the blanket. 

There were two of them. He knew them but it took him a moment to recognise them. He’d only seen them once and he’d been heavily drugged at that time. 

The woman’s face didn’t show any emotion as her eyes drifted over his body, before she turned her face to the other Varsennan. “Not sure, this was a good idea,” she mumbled.

The other didn’t answer as he closed the door behind them. “We don’t have much time,” he said and crossed the small room. “It’s true that Thrasher got caught, isn’t it?”

Kell nodded. “He’s …” Kell swallowed. “Oryn found out about him,” Kell said out of breath.

She cursed. They looked at each other.

“How much did he tell him?” the woman asked.

Kell shook his head. “I don’t know.” His voice wobbled dangerously.

She leaned forward until she was at his eye level. “I need you to tell us everything,” she said calmly but Kell could hear the sharp edge behind her voice. 

“I really don’t know,” he whispered. And he didn’t want to think about it. 

He gave him a long look. “And what did you tell Oryn?”

Kell swallowed. “Nothing. I …” He looked down. His heat beat traitorously against his chest.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him his name,” he nearly choked on the words. Once again, the cursed tears streamed down his face, but they couldn’t change what had happened. They couldn’t change what Kell had done. “I had to. I … There was no … Please! You have to get him out,” Kell begged. “Please.”

“Hell no,” the man said. “It is too late for him.”

“But …” 

“Tell me, little bird, what is in for us if we get him out, hm?”

Kell stared at him.

“We are not doing this out of charity.”

“Y-you can have me,” the words felt like poison on his tongue. “If you help him. I know you were interested …”

Again, the Varsennan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. If he’s not dead already he soon will be and there is nothing we can do about it.”

“No,” Kell said. “Please. You have to try.” Their faces remained indifferent. 

Kell scrambled for words. New tears streamed down his face as he once again realised, he had already lost. “If you don’t do it, I’ll … I’ll tell Oryn everything … I’ll …”

“Oh no,” the Varsennan interrupted him with a joyless laugh. “You will not blackmail us.” He sat down next to Kell on the cot. “Listen, I can make things a lot more difficult for you.” His eyes pierced through Kell as if he could see inside his head. “And even if Thrasher managed to keep everything to himself - what I doubt - I don’t think there is much you could tell Oryn. Am I right?”

Kell didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.”

Through his blurred vision he saw them exchanging glances. “This was a mistake. He won’t be any use to us,” the man said and got up. “Let’s go.”

Kell threw himself forward and wrapped his hand around his wrist, ignoring the pain shooting through his left hand. “Don’t leave me here. Please. I-I can’t go back there.”

The mere thought was enough to make his blood run cold. Every muscle in his body tightened painfully as his thoughts spiralled down. He shook his head in a desperate attempt to suppress the visions in his head. He couldn’t go back there. He wouldn’t survive another time in Oryn’s torture theatre. 

But he knew he would survive as long as it pleased him.

The Varsennan shook him off as if he was merely a fly and Kell fell hard onto the cot. His hands were shaking, and he couldn’t get his breathing under control.

“Calm down.” The voice sounded from far away. “They’re going to hear you if you don’t stop blabbing.”

A sob bubbled up Kell’s throat and shook his whole body as it echoed through the room. His hands were shaking and shaking and he wrenched them into the blanked; tried to hold on to something.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please don’t leave me here.”

Then Kell was alone again.

_________________

Thank you for reading! @whumpzone @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @whump-cravings @tears-and-lilies @imagination1reality0 @suspicious-whumping-egg @i-can-even-burn-salad @siren-of-agony @villainsvictim (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)    

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Have you ever think about Boothill, Sunday and Dan Heng with Foxian reader?

Poke ears and brush tail, they will do it with a smile while watching you squirm and face burn in embarrassed.

One of them will bury his face into your tail and sniff it gently, your tail is his pillow and teddy bear to hug.

Boothill:

This man would take one look at your ears and tail and automatically his mind is filled with ways he could -lovingly- get on your nerves. He’s just fascinated by the way they twitched and perk up at even the slightest of sounds, it was as cute as it was entertaining.

He’d even softly blow hot air against your ears and watches as they would twitch/ flinch at the sensation and how you’d try to hide your fluster expression behind your tail.

He loves getting you riled up and will not give it up for the life of him as it was just too much fun!

Boothill was shameless in his teasing and that was enough to make you flustered and he’s barely even touched you! He’d probably even used his shark like teeth to playfully chomp on your ears, drowning out your protests with his boisterous laughter.

Your tail is his personal pillow and his head is always buried deep within it 24/7. He’s nuzzling it, smelling it, kissing it and so much more that the crimes he committed against your tail and ears were astronomical.

Dan heng:

Had accidentally fell asleep on your tail once. Cuddling against it even and muttering under his breath about how ‘soft’ and ‘warm’ your tail was as he nuzzled his face into it with a small smile upon his face.

The moment you told him this the next morning, the poor man was embarrassed and flustered to the highest of heavens. He was about to profusely apologise for his actions when you waved him off and saying that it was pretty cute of him, before then telling Dan Heng that he was more then welcomed to do it again should he ever get tired.

He tries to reframe from doing so now but even he had to admit that at times it was just too tempting to pass up. And yet he still managed to find the will power within to not give in, he’s already made a fool out of himself once in front of you, he was not doing it again.

…until he does it again and cuddles up against your tail, purring as he once again smiles while doing so. You’ve decided not to mention any of this to him later on, and kept it as your little secret.

Sunday:

He’s the type to poke and prod at your ears and tail just to see you get flustered and squirm beneath his insightful gaze.

He finds you easy to tease but that never stops him from taking through enjoyment every time you fail to swat him away, or conceal your expression behind your bushy tail. After all His wings were pretty sensitive too but yet you still touched them with a mischievous smirk, so of course he’s going to want to get back at you for it.

It’s a game to him to see just how many expressions he could coax out of you within a certain time frame before leaving abruptly.

‘H-hey! Where are you going?’ You’d cry as you felt Sunday pull away from toying with your ears, watching on in confusion as he stood up from his seat, adjusted his clothes and began to walk towards the door.

‘I have a meeting soon and I do not wish to be late because I was indulging in…other things.’ He says as he looked over his shoulder with a wry smile at your expression, but you couldn’t help it! The way he spoke was only meant as a means to make everything that happened come off more intimate than it actually was!

You hated him sometimes for drawing reactions for you so easily but that was also something you admired too, and besides you did kinda start it but messing with his wings.

[ladyhoneydee]

30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 14

Hi hi! Being late seems to be my new normal, but given that I haven't slept yet, it still feels like the 14th to me, lol. Today's Song(fic) Challenge prompt was "a song you think is underrated", and I chose "Grilled Cheese" by Peach Face. It's a dreamy song (with a very fun finger-snap beat in the background) about the early period of a relationship, and so I sought to capture those feelings!

Please note that this fic references past sexual activity, but nothing at all explicit! The most that happens is some suggestive dialogue and one single line mentioning the touching of a male chest. Still, if that bothers you, you may want to skip this one! (Also, if anyone thinks that this should be rated M instead of T, please let me know.)

halfway (to something that you'll never find)

Game: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom

Pairing: Zelink

Word Count: 1905

Keywords: Modern AU, waking up together, romantic fluff

To be honest, Zelda really had no clue how she had found this. For all intents and purposes, it should be impossible to just stumble across a man who would share his nights without judgment nor the expectation of more; a lover who made sure of her happiness as well as her pleasure; a friend who she had just as much fun splitting a sandwich with as in the sack. Statistically, the odds were astronomical. And yet…here they were. Taking their sweet time as they wandered into love.

Read the fic on AO3, or under the cut!

Zelda woke with the coming of the light. 

Link’s bedroom windows faced west, and so, heavy sleeper that he was, he never bothered to draw his sage-green curtains at night. She wasn’t sure why he even had them, honestly. He’d never once covered the windows up while she’d been over at his apartment, even during sex. She supposed it made sense—the view from his eighth-floor apartment was one of his favorite things about living in Castleton, and it was true that no one would ever be able to see them entwined on the mattress. Still, Zelda was a light sleeper, and even the ambient light from his window was enough to stir her.

Link’s arm lay draped over her waist as he spooned her from behind, and she pretended that the easy possessiveness—the good kind, not ‘you are my property’, but ‘I want to keep you close’—didn’t send a sparking thrill to her stomach. It wasn’t that it was too soon for that kind of excitement, with how many months they’d spent sleeping over in one another’s apartments and meeting for random meals since that first encounter at the bar, but…she didn’t want to push it.

Zelda scooted over an inch and rolled from her side onto her stomach. Link’s arm fell heavily across her back, and she smirked at the dead weight before reaching for her slate.

No notifications. Just the way she liked it, when she was over at Link’s. Although she did need to head out in about half an hour so she could meet Riju for coffee. Eight-thirty in the morning was pretty early for plans, but Riju was still entangled in the depths of her senior year, so Zelda couldn’t begrudge her the weird timing. Hers had been even worse last spring, after all, when she was putting the finishing touches on her master’s thesis. 

Satisfied that she wasn’t missing anything important, Zelda tucked her slate back under the pillow—oh. She froze, before a smile slowly crept over her face. 

Once again, she’d fallen asleep with her makeup on, and the last remnants of her berry lipstick and smokey bronze eyeshadow were decorating Link’s striped pillowcases. Good thing he’d just set out her usual one last night before they got in bed. 

She probably shouldn’t be so elated at having ruined one of Link’s pillowcases so thoroughly and repeatedly, but how else was she supposed to feel when that meant that one of his pillowcases was basically hers?

She turned around to face him. In sleep, Link’s face was open and relaxed. His hair was a disheveled, wheat-colored mess that was half pinned beneath her own head. It was lucky that he hadn’t been out that night as well, before she came over, or else his own pillowcase might’ve been marked with that forest-green eyeliner he favored. His eyes weren’t twitching beneath his lids, which meant he was at a lull in his REM cycle. 

Perfect. That meant it was a fine time to kiss him awake. 

She started with his face, peppering the lightest of pecks along his cheekbones, before drifting to his jawline. Link was slow to grow facial hair, and so her lips smoothed across the skin without any friction to inhibit her trajectory.

When she began a long, slow, suckling sort of kiss at the sensitive place where the underside of the right side of his jaw met his neck, he began to stir. First with the slightest roll towards her, seeking the sweet, soft pleasure of her mouth, and then with a stretching arching of his back that made her wish she had more than ten more minutes to spend in bed with him. She knew the moment he woke: he stiffened the slightest bit, then melted under her lips, and then reached a hand up to cradle the back of her own bedhead. 

“Good morning to you too,” he whispered, voice roughened with sleep. 

She hummed into his skin in response. Link soaked up her touch for another moment, before shifting his hand to cup her chin, and gently guiding it in the direction of his face. She pressed one last rebellious kiss into his skin, before following his lead. 

His mouth tasted sour with morning breath, and she was sure hers was no better. She adored the realness of it.

Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, taking her time in this warm cocoon. Link was already gazing at her, lips curved in the sweetest of smiles. When he looked at her like that, she…well. She felt a lot better about the ever-increasing intensity of her own feelings toward him, that was for sure.

“I have to get up soon,” she singsonged. Her tone was teasing, as though he was the one who would be crushed by this news, but she felt a pang in her own chest at her words. Truth be told, she never wanted to leave this bed. 

Link played along, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her atop his chest. “Not if I hold you right here.”

“Mm, I think I could get out pretty easily if I wanted to.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Never breaking eye contact, she stroked one hand slowly and deliberately down his chest. “We both know how quickly I can get you to sing for me. Once you’re distracted…”

“Or you could just stay the whole time.” Link grinned, but she didn’t miss the way his pupils had dilated at her touch. 

“I do prefer taking my sweet time, it’s true.” She indulged herself in the tracing of his lips, and the way they parted under her touch. “But…it’s still early. We wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

Like ripping off a band-aid, she pulled herself free of Link’s arms—he’d never cage her against her will—and swung her legs off of the bed. For all her teasing of Link, she’d never actually flake on Riju like that. The girl was practically a little sister to her, after all. 

Link groaned, but followed her up willingly. As she yanked the flared pants she’d worn the night before over her hips, he passed her black strappy tank over as well, which had ended up on his side of the bed. She returned the favor with a beatific smile. 

“Are you sure you won’t be cold? You weren’t wearing a coat last night when you came over, and it’s chilly out this morning.” 

Fair point. Zelda’s arms were already prickling with goosebumps. “Yeah, but…” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to deal. Not very wise of me to go out without a layer, huh?”

Link’s voice was carefully controlled as he picked at the corner of the quilt on his side of the bed. “You could borrow one of my hoodies, if you wanted. I don’t mind.”

His hoodie! Link was a nice guy, with a lot of clothes, and it wasn’t a stretch that he would lend clothes to any friend in need. But she couldn’t help but be thrilled at the offer of a hoodie. It was such a boyfrie—no, she better not even think it, else she risk jinxing it.

“Yeah, sure,” Zelda answered, cool as a cucumber. “I could do with dressing down my outfit, anyway.”

“I’ll find something that looks nice with your pants.” He disappeared off towards his closet, and Zelda took the opportunity to put her socks and shoes on. Thank Hylia she’d worn boots instead of heels the night before. 

Before long, Link returned, handing over a soft, thick black hoodie bedazzled with golden designs. “It should be nice and warm. Developed by Embr Labs over in Eldin.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Supposed to provide the sensation that you’re right next to the volcano.”

“Aw, Link, it’s so nice!” Zelda pouted. “Now I’d feel bad if I stole it.”

Link laughed. “Damn right! I expect a prompt return.” He watched as she pulled the garment over her head and gave a shiver of delight at the coziness. “Flip up the hood,” he suggested. 

She did, and gave a laugh of delight. “Are these dragon horns?” She petted the plush prongs lightly. “That’s so cute. Now I’m really going to have to buy myself one.”

“Super cute,” Link agreed, a soft smile on his face. 

Zelda looked down, flustered. “Well, I ought to head out,” she hedged. She tipped the hood back off of her head carefully. “Riju’s gonna yell at me for being late if I miss my train.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Link rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll walk you out.”

At the door, Link opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, apparently changing his mind. “Have a nice coffee date with Riju!” he said instead. “If you want to hang out again sometime soon, just give a whistle.”

“Same to you! Enjoy your day off.” Zelda bit her lip, and before she could lose her nerve, leaned in and planted a kiss on Link’s cheek. 

The last glimpse she caught of him before heading out the door was of his blue eyes wide, hand pressed to his cheek. The image lingered in her mind as she descended the stairs, exited the apartment building, and headed west for the nearest train station. It was only interrupted when, keen to protect the back of her neck from the chilly morning air, she flipped up the hood again and realized she’d forgotten her earrings back on Link’s bedside table. 

“Stupid, Zelda. So distracted with—wait.” She paused in her self-flagellation. Come to think of it…

She pulled out her slate.

Zelda: Turns out I forgot my earrings at your place? They’re amethyst and gold. Should be on the bedside table.

Zelda: Could I come over again to pick them after I’m done with Riju? I could return your hoodie then too, since my apartment isn’t far from the coffee shop and I could change into some fresh clothes then.

Zelda: Maybe we could have lunch, too. You could make us that mushroom tomato stew and some grilled cheeses. They’re not the same at home… :3

Link: yeah they’re here!

Link: sounds perfect

Link: see you at 11 &lt;3

Link: whoops idk why the heart sent! 

Zelda laughed out loud and nearly ran into one of the train station poles. Link might have no idea why the heart sent, but she had a clue. No two-character emoticon could be written ‘accidentally’. 

Hylia, he was cute. Maybe over lunch, she’d finally ask if he wanted to take their unspoken mutual desires and make something official out of it. She had a feeling it would go all right. Everything had so far, at least, and she didn’t see why that would have reason to change. They were still Link and Zelda, after all. 

To be honest, Zelda really had no clue how she had found this. For all intents and purposes, it should be impossible to just stumble across a man who would share his nights without judgment nor the expectation of more; a lover who made sure of her happiness as well as her pleasure; a friend who she had just as much fun splitting a sandwich with as in the sack. Statistically, the odds were astronomical. And yet…here they were. Taking their sweet time as they wandered into love.

She stepped onto her train just as the doors whished closed, with a smile on her face.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1990 I deliberately slept till 8:30 this evening as Andy and I couldn’t have auditioned cuz Andy’s without a car till it’s fixed. Brenda’s also without a car, but tomorrow morning at 7:00, she and Kevin are going to look at a car this guy’s selling for $600. Or, I should say instead, they’re going to pick it up. They’ve already seen the car. So anyway, I made myself sleep long and late to reverse my schedule for a week or so. Then it’ll go back to nights till I want to or need to reverse it again.

I’ll tape Unsolved Mysteries, but I’ll have to miss Hunter. I’m also gonna cancel Martha.

Early in the morning, Brenda’s gonna call me so I can get stamps to mail my mail which is all set and ready to go. Also, she’s going to take me to Food Mart, then when she brings me home I’m gonna do laundry.

Tonight I finished putting up my pictures in a different way and it looks really nice. I also changed the cat box and swept the kitchen floor. After I finish my tea, I’ll listen to some music and do some drawing.

Later…

John isn’t working today. Meanwhile, I tried to get a hold of Dr. Statz, but she’s on vacation I guess for a couple of weeks. I don’t know if I wrote about her but one of the 3 times I was in the ER, she treated me. I’m 100% sure the male nurse, working with her was gay and I’m about 85% sure she was gay. I was just totally touched by her and it was weird cuz she wasn’t overly attractive. There was just something about her, you know, like Linda’s song goes; It’s not that you’re attractive, but oh my heart grew active when you came into view. And I had a crush on her. Sweetie pie.

And ever since then, I haven’t forgotten about her. I can hear God too, saying, “Uh-uh, against the rules.” I think he wants me with someone less attractive so I can learn to look at only people’s personalities. But I’d never be with Brenda if she were a bad person. Maybe another reason God has is that if I get dumped, I won’t be as hurt as much as I would be if I were overwhelmed. I still long for that someone with the character and personality I most desire and to feel that special once-in-a-lifetime sexual spark.

Please, God, please! Answer my prayers. Do it someday very soon. Please. God, what if I made a deal with you right here in this book? And that deal is if I promise to try my hardest to quit smoking, then will you think about it? Also, a beginning break with my singing, then I’ll pursue it from there. I hope you put some big and serious consideration into my requests. If singing and having that special someone and a baby are 3 too many things to ask for, then I’ll understand. I’ll settle for the singing and the special person only and give up the baby without ever asking for anything else.

Later…

Around 9:00 this morning Kevin and Brenda came and got me and dropped me off at Food Mart. Then, I waited a good long exhausting wait while Brenda brought Kevin to Palmer, then back to pick me up. After she picked me up she brought me to Shopper’s where I got a photocopy made of my birth certificate and stamps for my mail which I mailed in the box right outside the store.

While waiting for Brenda at Food Mart I saw Allison. We spoke briefly and she said she’d give me a call soon.

So all my errands are done except for Friday when I get the pigs more food and their big bail of sawdust. I still need to call Philip and John and tomorrow I’m definitely, no matter what, going to go see Paula. Jessie’s probably gonna call today. She’s another one I need to see, and she and Brenda can meet each other.

I finally got back here at 10:30 this morning and I fell asleep till 3:30. I’m exhausted but I’m gonna stay this way so that at 11:00 tonight, after Hunter, I can go to sleep. I better not wake up either, like around 3:00 in the morning and not be able to go back to sleep till 6:00 or 7:00, then sleep till mid-late afternoon. I want to be up in the mornings from tomorrow until next Tuesday. That means the next 5 mornings.

Later…

When I got up I made a pork chop and some angel hair pasta and got a call from my sister. Tammy said Ma said to her, “I don’t want Jodi alone for her b-day, Chanukah or Thanksgiving.”

Tammy also said Ma said to drive in and get me in the morning and bring me back the next day. Tammy said she then tried to explain to Mom that it’s impossible with 3 kids, the business, and with Bill working till 6:30 at night. Then Tammy said Ma pulled her typical line of, “Good-bye, Tammy.”

I guess Ma fails to remember that I’m not alone. I’m not single anymore and my girlfriend is fully willing to drive me down this Saturday and for Thanksgiving and also for my birthday and Chanukah which Tammy says she’ll combine into one big party. I mean, Tammy’s right. She can’t up and go drive for that amount of time and it’s pretty strange why Ma’s so concerned about me not being alone for all these things.

I’ve spent them alone before but then again when your own God damn aunt and uncle invite you over for Thanksgiving like they did last year, then conveniently forget to call you and pick you up, that’s not my fault, is it?

Another thing Tammy mentioned is that Ma bragged about all this time she was gonna spend with Tammy, Bill and the kids which turned out to be a joke. Tammy said she wanted to spend the day with me. HA. It was a wonderful hour we had.

All I can say is, I’ve had it with this family shit and I don’t wanna know from nothing. I haven’t had to deal with it for 5 years and I’m not about to deal with it now. Also, I’m not going to Florida either. A week’s vacation isn’t worth a week of her bullshit along with it. I mean, that’s not how my vacation packages or anyone else’s should be. Really, if it were an ad it’d read like this: We’ll give you a week’s free vacation with all expenses paid, but the catch is that you must put up with Dureen O’s bullshit.

Another case of taking the bad with the good. Fuck that!

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1990 I wish I was just waking up, but instead, I am wide awake. I slept till 6pm. I’ve been so zonked out cuz I’ve had to be up at a certain time for a certain reason and wasn’t getting enough hours of sleep.

I have many errands to do such as buying pig and cat food. I also need a bail of sawdust, stamps, and to make a photocopy of my birth certificate.

The mouse, who’s getting bigger, is now riding his wheel, and boy is Shadow ever getting big fast.

Andy came over earlier and we made some phone calls to people who had ads in the Advocate to sell things.

Andy’s really upset. He’s having trouble with Miles. Needs to find a job. Needs to pay bills. Got in a car accident which he’s going to have to pay almost $1,000 to fix. It’s not fair that some drunken girl, who did get arrested, slammed into a parked car, then Andy slammed into her, yet Andy’s at fault. He was wearing his seatbelt and the scary thing is, is that if I was in the car, I probably wouldn’t have had my seatbelt on and I’d have gone through the windshield. Who knows how many stitches I’d have to have gotten in my face. There are so many fucked up drivers it’s amazing. And very, very scary, too.

I’m so pissed at myself cuz I just remembered I was supposed to have called Philip 3 days ago, and John, and see Paula.

Later…

I’m writing here on the waterbed and I put the mouse on the floor inside his plastic ball, and Shadow’s having a hell of a time watching him and wishing so desperately to play with him. Or eat him. It’s quite a funny sight to see when he’s in his ball running around with Shadow chasing him. It also was so cute when Shadow was sitting in Toffee’s cage. He doesn’t want to harm the other animals, but he may accidentally cuz his playing may be too rough for them cuz he claws and bites.

Those drawings I did really blew my mind. I never could draw a line on a piece of paper before and I feel good yet weird. It’s like - what’s next? I discover one thing after another I can do. If not perfectly, then better than most.

Here comes Shadow once again to enjoy Gremlin after taking a dump in his shit box.

Me and Andy may possibly go to an audition together early this evening so I hope I get some sleep before then. Right now I’m gonna go listen to music. I haven’t listened at all today. After that, hopefully, I’ll get some sleep, get up early in the afternoon and get my errands done, call John and Philip and maybe even see Paula.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1990 I fell asleep at 5:30 PM after being up 21½ hours and of course, almost an hour ago I woke right up. I was kind of hoping I’d sleep till 5 AM. Anyway, guess what I’m doing today at 9 AM? Taking the police exam. I called Boston after talking to Tony today out here on Locust St. during a car accident. He said the people weren’t hurt too bad and that it had to do with insurance and he was tired of supporting the welfare recipients. So, I mentioned the exam to him and some other cop and they said that maybe the test was canceled due to all the layoffs, and to call Boston and check. When I called, I told the woman I never received my notice and she said that they did have trouble with their mailings and asked me for my social security number. I gave it to her and then she read back my name and address and said it was tomorrow morning at 9 AM. It’s at Converse High on State St. They allow you 3 hours for the test, but you’re free to leave when you’re done. There are 100 questions which means I cannot get more than 30 wrong. She said it’ll be 120 days before they mail me my marks. That’s 4 months, unfortunately, and she says there are around 2000 people taking the test. Lastly, she said to bring a birth certificate, a photo ID, and some number 2 pencils. Brenda took me to Shopper’s Drug where she met Emily and Emily gave me the pencils. Well, I bought them, of course. And a pack of cigarettes like a jerk.

I was going to go to Tammy’s tomorrow but Brenda’s got a visit with her kids she can’t cancel and Bill’s here tomorrow and Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Tammy’s gonna be pissed and I understand that and I’m dying to see Sarah, but this test only comes up once every two years.

Later…

It definitely doesn’t look like I’m going back to sleep so I’ll write for a while. I’ve got a CD playing. Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits. It’s pretty good. I like most of the songs on it. Some are boring.

Tomorrow, after the test, I’ve still got to get pig food and a heavyweight bowl for Tigger. I’m getting pretty sick of him either knocking it over or slamming it up against the side of his cage. I’ve got to get food for Gremlin and Shadow, too. Also stamps and paper plates. And it’s also about time to buy another big bail of sawdust. There’s always something to buy. Such as Gloria’s new record.

I think maybe I’ll go hem some more of those pants Kacey gave me.

Later…

Well, I didn’t hem the pants. One pair didn’t quite fit since I gained weight, but I just took my measurements and I’ve gone down an inch since 3 days ago when I started exercising my ass off and taking Slim-Fast. I did, however, hem an old shirt that was almost to my ankles. I brought it up to mid-thigh length. It came out better than I’d thought but I’ll have Brenda check it out to make sure it’s not crooked. I’m not too thrilled with the way it falls but I’ll ask Brenda.

After I take my shower I’m gonna put another coat of nail polish on and I’m not sure yet what I’ll wear. Something casual. I hope after the test and my errands are done that I can catch a couple of hours of sleep so I can go out to the Halloween party at the Pub tonight. I want to wear my new black lace skirt. Part of me hopes Brenda ends up too tired to go so I can observe others without her observing me observe others. But then again we mutually do look at other women and we’re honest with each other. In the long run, Brenda will never have anything to worry about cuz gay women, of course, are a major turn-off to me in general, and it’s against the rules for me to have someone I’m attracted to. Oh well. At least God allows people to be attracted to me which is nice as long as it’s not major sickos. I mean, everyone gets that here and there, but the good thing is, is that as time goes on I’m having an easier time getting better people even if I don’t quite meet my desired standards.

Ok, time for my second coffee, then my shower.

Later…

Brenda dropped me off at 8:30 this morning, and they made everyone who didn’t get their notice to appear for the test go into a room, and they gave us an “appear” card after checking to see if our names were on the list, and also our photo IDs and birth certificates, in which I’ve got to photocopy and mail to Boston.

They had us print and write our names and they compared them with our signatures on our licenses.

There were several butches there and I got stared down good by guys and butches. This Hispanic girl was sitting next to me. I’m not sure, but I think she was gay with the way she gave me this huge smile and waved at me the second I walked in. I sat next to her and we chatted here and there before the test. She urged me to choose South Hadley for 1 of my 4 choices of cities or towns I wanted to work in. My first choice was Springfield, however, and I had no choice cuz you had to pick, for first choice, the place you lived in for the last 12 months. My second choice was East Longmeadow. I would’ve chosen Longmeadow, but it wasn’t listed. My third choice was West Springfield. My fourth choice was Chicopee.

Another thing was that there were two classroom monitors. One man, one woman. The woman constantly stared at me. I caught her once and her face turned bright red. Then after the test, as I was leaving, I could see her grinning to herself with the same red face.

We didn’t start the test till 9:30 and I finished at almost 12:30. I’m not sure whether I passed or failed. There were some tricky questions that I had to go over and over. I’ll know sometime in February. I am anxious though and never have wanted to speed up time so badly in my life. I usually don’t care about time or wish I could stop it and drop dead.

The landlord will be here any minute to fix the heat. Today and all last night I froze my ass off.

I told Tammy I’d be down next weekend and she said she wasn’t mad and that she understood and to think positive about the test.

After the landlord leaves, I hope I can catch a few hours of sleep so I can go out tonight.

I called Philip and told him about the test and he’s happy about it and he asked me to keep him posted. He also told me to call him tomorrow. I called John too, and he was both pleased and proud. Then lastly, I spoke with Andy.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1990 I’m going nuts just sitting around here, so since I can’t have music, I’ve got to find something. Those dickheads never sent me my notice for the police exam, but I figured as much to begin with. I don’t know who’s responsible, therefore, I don’t know who to call to bitch about it. Oh well, like I said, I figured I’d never be notified just like I knew I’d never get that security job at Mercy with John.

Why is it that anything I’d be good at and want to do I just can’t? It just wasn’t meant to be. If I was smart, a long time ago I’d have chosen a career I hate, never want to have a baby and if I’m ever single again, I’d pick all the ones I don’t want or that are just ok. Actually, they pick me, so I should say.

Later…

I tried calling Philip about the stereo but he’s not at work and not answering his phone at home.

Today, I’m gonna go to Food Mart for cat food, stamps, and paper plates. Also, I want to go to Brightwood Hardware in Longmeadow for pig and mice food.

I’m getting tired as hell but I want to push it as far as I can so I sleep somewhat into the night. With my luck, however, after 3 or 4 hours of sleep, I’ll bolt wide awake and not be able to fall back asleep.

I’m really starting to want to work. I need extra money and this being at home all the time bit is really getting to me. But since I can’t sing or be a cop and am too chicken to drive the cab, what can I do other than McDonald’s or something really boring and stupid?

I’m gonna call apartment rental people for general information about duplexes. I know I can never afford it, but it never hurts to get some information. I’ll go get the yellow pages.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1990 I’m still wide awake and probably will be for a while. I’m just having a grand old time with the new phone. There’s a mute button on it too, and you don’t need to keep holding it down like you do on most other phones. You hit it once and a red light glows which tells you it’s in use, and to discontinue the mute, you hit it again and the red light goes off.

A little while ago I listened to the 45 of the song Take a Chance On Me by ABBA. I bought it today at One Stop Records. I always liked that song and I used to have that record. I don’t know whatever happened to it, along with tons of other records. They either got old or I got sick of them or they were stolen.

Later…

Why, oh, why didn’t I stay the fuck off cigarettes!?! I had 3 cigarettes in 1 week and here I go and smoke a whole pack yesterday and today I’ve had close to a pack. What a jerk, huh? I’m gonna go chuck the rest of my pack, try again till I absolutely can’t fight the urge to smoke, and listen to music.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1990 Well, I’m going to need to go to sleep as soon as possible so in order to help myself sleep, I’m gonna listen to music for a while.

Tomorrow morning I’ve got to call Philip about fixing my stereo. I can’t put it off any longer.

Also, I see Martha at 4:00. I’m not sure if I mentioned it but I think she just may have a thing for me. It’s just this feeling I get and it’s also certain things she says and certain ways she says things. Oh well. Of course, I’ll keep my mouth shut about it. She is married, after all, and she also swore she never mixes business with pleasure and that’s fine and respected by me.

I want to go to Caldor’s too, to see if Gloria’s new album is out. I’m not sure of the name of it and it’s not new songs. They’re all old hits, but they’re in Spanish.

Later…

I just finished killing a spider, which like most spiders, was on the ceiling. I sprayed it with lots of Lysol and perfume to get it down so I could swat it.

Today I got this awesome and I mean totally awesome speakerphone I ordered last week. Now I need to make 4 payments of $22 but it’s worth it. I love it. I can be doing something like writing or making coffee and still talking to someone. Also, I can play people the edits which they can hear well and hear their reactions, and if it’s an answering machine, I can hear it beep when it ends. Another thing too, is if my call waiting beeps, I’ll hear that too.

This insurance company’s got a hell of a long machine. Brenda and I passed it on the way home from Baystate Waste after I saw Martha and I said to myself, “I bet they have a machine.”

By the way, Martha definitely has no desire for a woman. She’s 100% straight as an arrow.

Andy’s got company now so he’s gonna call me later, and Fran’s not home. I’m bored and I love this phone so I may as well go and have a field day with it and look under insurance companies in the yellow pages. It does seem like a lot of insurance companies have answering machines.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1990 Brenda brushed out my hair for me, and God is it getting long. It’s almost to my very lower back and the layers are growing out. The very top layer, though, is completely destroyed. I have massive split ends.

Shadow’s climbing all over me. I think I mentioned before why I changed his name from Bandit to Shadow. He’s like glue. He loves to be near me constantly. Follows me everywhere like a shadow. However, when I go to bed, I shut the bedroom door cuz he always wakes me up.

One thing that’s starting to annoy me is that I’m very bloated. I wanna hurry up and get my period so I drop some water. I don’t want to take my water pill while I’m still finishing up my other medications. I did some exercising and I’m gonna do more later. Also, I’m gonna get more Slim-Fast and eat very little till I drop 10 pounds. It’s funny to say I’m chunky at 105 pounds, but then again I am a very short person, right? It’s not that I weigh too much pound-wise, it’s my shape I guess, I have so much water, too.

I took all my pictures of Gloria down last night. There are only a few in the bedroom. I wanted a change and a break from them so I put them in my file box in my closet. I’ll never throw them out cuz I’ve put so much time and money into them and it’ll be really neat to look back at them someday. Maybe I will put them back up, though, in a matter of months or someday. I still wish I could afford a duplex as I’d make the cellar the music place with the posters, the stereo and keyboards and I wish I had a washer and dryer. By God, I’d love to be able to afford that. I’d have 2 bedrooms, 1½ baths and a dishwasher too, no doubt.

Later…

I’m now watching the premiere of Law & Order. Before this, I saw In the Heat of the Night. Brenda left after Matlock. I put Brenda’s hair in a braid. It looked nice.

I still never got any notification as far as the police exam is concerned. I’m not stupid, though. They’ll never notify me worth shit.

I’m gonna go make some angel hair pasta. It is so good.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1990 I was exhausted before, but as usual, I woke right up. Man, oh man, was I just through a hell of a nightmare since the last time I wrote! I had to go to the ER 3 fucking times and I was terrified! I literally thought I was going to die and it hurt so bad I wished I would drop dead till it was over. I had the worst asthma in my life. They had to take me immediately (usually you wait forever) to give me oxygen treatments, and the last time I had an IV. It was really scary. I could only smoke 3 cigarettes in one week’s time. I’m on Prednisone for 12 days and Bactrim which is an antibiotic for 10 days. Also, I’m on Theodur and Alupent which is the same stuff in my inhaler. Theodur and Alupent are the two most common drugs used for asthma.

I saw Mom and Dad on the 15th and we had a fairly good visit. They came up for about an hour or so. They’re back in Florida now.

I may possibly be going to my sister’s this Saturday. Tammy’s really sick now, too.

Steve and I spliced a wire today so I can edit from the CD player onto the stereo and it sounds great, too. I have plenty of editing to do as well as story writing.

They raised my food stamps to $114, so I did a huge grocery order and I never had so much food in my life, but I really need to lose weight. I’m getting pretty chunky lately.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1990 It’s been one week now and I still feel like shit. Oh well. It also looks like I’m gonna have to cancel going to my sister’s tomorrow. One reason’s cuz I feel like shit and the other’s it’s contagious. I don’t want to stand and just look at my nieces from 3 feet away, I want to hold them and hug them. Tammy mentioned going next weekend if I couldn’t make it this time.

Then I’ll be seeing Mom and Dad on the 15th, and it fucking figures I’m sick so I can’t sing.

Yesterday I got 3 journals at an excellent price. I mean a really fantastic deal. Normally the 3 of them would’ve cost close to $24, but I got them for $12 in the secondhand department. I’m glad I discovered that they sell them there which is weird cuz these books are brand new and just as nice as the regular main part of the store.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1990 Tracy called me and Andy last night. We were both thrilled to hear from her. I played her the edits which she thought were great. She didn’t contact us, she said, cuz she needed space and time to sort things out.

Last night was awful. I was so full of congestion. I never knew one could have to blow their nose so much. It’s red and sore now and I feel much better now that I drained out all that shit so I guess it was worth the misery. Tomorrow, or today I should say, Bill will be here at 1:00 so I hope I can get a little sleep. I had to sleep all day today as I was so miserable. It’s called “sleeping it off.” I’m thankful I feel much better though and also thankful it wasn’t the flu. Anything but the flu. Smoking very little also helped get rid of it quicker but I couldn’t have smoked much if I wanted to. The funny thing is, though, for the last 3 days I really haven’t had much of a desire to smoke. Today I had 5 or 6 and psychologically I still think of it, but the physical part isn’t too bad.

I love this little kitty of mine to death. I’m so glad Brenda got him for me.

Share to Pinterest SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1990 Yesterday, I only smoked 7 or 8 cigarettes. Today, even though I still slept till 9:00 tonight, I’ve had 3 so far. I am very, very congested so that’s part of the reason why I’ve smoked so little. Also cuz I have these sneezing fits and cuz of my wheezing. In 48 hours I’ve smoked only 11 cigarettes so that’s why I’m constantly blowing my nose like there’s no tomorrow. It gets worse before it gets better after you’ve either quit or cut down cuz all that tar and shit starts draining.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1990 Gee, I have exactly 1 day short of 2 months till I’m 25 years old. A quarter of a century.

My new little kitten, which Brenda got me, is sitting here in bed with me and he’s so loving and so affectionate. The one thing you couldn’t do with Sasha was pick her up and cuddle her or have her come to you and let you cuddle her for more than 3 seconds. His name is Bandit. He’s now trying to distract me from writing by rubbing up against my book and me and giving me kisses. He’s fairly gentle with his claws but when he gets a little older I’d like to get him neutered and declawed. You know I hate being clawed when you’re playing with them. I mean they can just sit or stand on you and their claws hurt like hell. Now he’s playing with my hair which all kittens, cats and babies love to do.

Brenda’s cab broke down yesterday afternoon and while she was at the office, the owner’s wife just happened to be giving away kittens, so that’s how I got him. That was yesterday, the day after Brenda’s b-day. He’s 6 weeks old and looks a lot like Sasha, but Sasha was gray and white. He’s orange and white and his hair’s a little shorter. It’s the same pattern as Sasha’s. I think they’re both tabby cats. He’s so loving and follows me everywhere. And he’s pretty calm and gentle, too. He knows how to pee in his litter box, but he’s still going to have to learn not to go on furniture or chew wires.

I have had absolutely no sneezing fits!!!!!!! And this cat is here to stay till death do it part. My mom was right as far as all my problems being due to smoking and I’ve known it too for quite some time but it was just too scary to admit. It’s scary to think of dealing with withdrawal after quitting but my congestion is getting really bad so I’ve had only 7 or 8 cigarettes today.

The pigs were a little jealous and depressed about Bandit, but otherwise, they’re still the usual loving troublemakers.

I bought Brenda a pair of earrings and a pair of sexy underwear for her b-day and we went to her sister Donna’s house in Palmer. And as I mentioned before, I’ve known her husband Kevin for 4 years. He knew Crystal C, too.

Donna’s a great person who anyone feels comfortable with. The type you could talk to about most anything and who accepts people for what and who they are. The kids were great and Donna’s great with the kids too, and I’d have loved to have someone like her as my mother.

Tomorrow, I’ve got to call John R and maybe I’ll try to leave a message with Dr. Goodman’s receptionist for Tracy, but only once. I also have to call Philip and go to Food Mart. Also, I wonder if Kathy will fix my bangs if I call her. She works at Food Mart and she gave me her number. We went to La Baron together. She hated it too, and she only does it on the side. My bangs really look pretty stupid so maybe she can trim and layer them.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1990 Right now I’m on the phone listening to Fran talk to Bobbie. Andy and I wish to hell Tracy would call us.

I’m turning into a very, very slightly ok artist. Of course, some of my drawings are a wee bit explicit. Guess I’ve been horny lately.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1990 My mother said something astounding. Not only was I shocked, but I also shed a few tears. I called Mom and told her that I bought a little tiny fork and spoon for Sarah and socks for Becky and Lisa. Then I told her that I agreed as far as having money and someone to help as far as having a baby is concerned. But I also told her I didn’t like being told what I should do or should not do at this age.

So I finally asked the two questions of my main concern in blunt plain English. I said, “If I have a child someday, are you going to disown me or call the state?”

She said no. I freaked with shock and joy. I absolutely and totally could not believe it.

Otherwise, no more news going on lately. Just that I had a very nice weekend with Brenda and also Gail and Judy. Gail and Judy are so nice. You feel as if you’ve known them for years. They, of course, don’t turn me on but they’re very attracted to me, so I hear. Also, it’s rather obvious by the way they look at me. Same thing with Bonny. I did their nails for them and also, a couple of weekends ago, Brenda, Judy, Gail and I went to Jam’s. We had fun, and I ran into Tracy there who said she broke up with Nancy. Guess Nancy was an alcoholic and a troublemaker. She seemed a little irritated by talking to me and left with some other girl who seemed slightly offended when I asked her if she was single.

Tracy said she was in California on the 4th of July and was so shocked at how feminine the gay women were there. That’s what she likes, too.

She did tell me to leave a message with my number at this dentist’s office where she works on Maple St. But should I really leave a message which I seriously doubt will ever get answered?

My friendship with Andy has been excellent the last several months and he admitted he was being cruel and selfish for a while and then realized it and didn’t want to lose me as his friend. He was also jealous of my looks and my abilities but instead of being negative he’s encouraging and appreciates what I do.

It’s really too bad his relationship with Miles isn’t doing too great. According to Andy, he’s too clingy and constantly wants sex. Also, cuz Andy didn’t give Miles sex for two days, Miles cheated on him. Andy’s pissed and is on the verge of dumping him. He says, though, he thinks Miles is the way he is cuz his father molested him. Also, he says Miles has a big mouth and blabbed some sexual stuff about him and Andy real loud in Friendly’s. He also talks 10 times more gayish than Andy does.

Tomorrow, I want to go see Paula and get something for Brenda, but I still can’t sleep yet and it’s now 3:17 AM. I was beat before. Sometimes life as a night owl sucks.

[emiraxtemel]

SELF PARA TEMEL HOUSE, DEC. 25th (EMIRA’S 31st) Ft. @danny--anderson

The 25th of December was an almost damnable day for a birthday. At least, that’s what everyone thought when Emira shared her birthday with them. But it had never felt that way, her family cocooning her with warmth and love each year. It became tradition for the Temel family to celebrate Christmas on the 26th instead. So on her birthday, she and Yas would stay up late at their moms’ house, watching mystery movies until one of them fell asleep, and their moms would insist they retire. Even this year, at a fresh 31 years of age, they couldn’t resist ushering Emira and her sister upstairs. It was only once she was curled up in bed with Atlas that she saw the u up? text come through like they were still in fucking high school.

Her response came naturally and anticipation knotted in her stomach as she waited for Danny. And it was through a fit of laughter and abundance of “shhh!”-ing that Emira helped him through the window in a fit of giggles as they tumbled onto the plush rug by the window. She didn’t admit how happy she was to see him, instead whispering a “you nearly missed” with a cheeky smile as she pointed to the nightstand and the clock which showed how close to midnight it was. There was only slight uncertainty in her movement as she drew close to Danny. She didn’t know what this was becoming but it didn’t matter. It was her birthday and he was here because he wanted to be. And any cautiousness at the reluctant expression she saw in his face was quickly dispelled when Danny produced a folded up piece of paper from his coat, proffering it to her with a mumbled, “happy birthday, Em.”

She wasn’t expecting a gift from him of all people but she accepted it anyway. Gingerly, she unfolded the gift before staring for several moments before a grin broke out across her face. The date indicated that a lifetime had passed since he’d drawn it in high school. And though he insisted he thought he threw it out, Emira couldn’t help teasing him. “oh really? You ‘thought’ you threw it out? You didn’t want to keep it forever and ever and” – but then he was reaching for it, telling her to forget about it, and she was doing her best not to squeal as she attempted to hold it out of reach, all the while shhhing Atlas whose tail wagged excitedly at the sudden movement.

When the drawing tore, an unintentional victim of their messing around, Emira froze, an unbidden emotion swelling in her chest as she stared at the part of the drawing in her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” she trailed off and took the piece from his hand. Another beat. “It was perfect.” And she’d ripped it. But it was just a piece of paper and Emira wasn’t so vain as to need a portrait of herself to hang up. But he’d kept it. After all this time he’d kept it and had given it to her as a gift and – “hey, we can fix it,” Danny’s lazy voice was a whisper as he took the pieces from her hand, going to her desk and rifling through it. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well you look like you might fucking cry about it so…” she huffed a laugh at that, clambering out of bed to help him fix it, procuring a roll of tape. They worked in silence for a moment and she knew it wasn’t because it was just some old drawing. It wasn’t just fixing a ripped piece of paper. There was something more in each action, in the way they mended it side by side. And when he presented it to her again, whole once more,  if not a bit worse for wear, Emira studied it for a brief second before wrapping her arms around him, resting her head against his chest as she whispered a small “thank you.”