#verbose babies
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vimbry-moved · 11 months ago
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jumping off the back of the post about genres of song lyrics, another thing about tmbg's lyrics in particular is that even when they write about pleasant themes, they still manage to frequently do so through a sinister lens:
the experience of having children and looking after them:
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a nice little nightlight protecting a child muses on the shortcomings it would have outside its assigned responsibility:
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fantasising about getting high in the park with your crush:
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worstloki · 8 days ago
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loki calls peter parker a baby chickling and peter takes 4 minutes to process it
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vpyre · 6 months ago
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Fascinating ask I just deleted lmao. Anons really gotta figure out better hate, that was honestly pitiful. Kinda wish I’d screenshotted it so y’all could see tbh 😭
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straightlightyagami · 1 year ago
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guys are u supposed to give people (like your friends etc) new year cards..?
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yume-fanfare · 1 year ago
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tsukasa center should have more flashback scenes too
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primordialchoice · 1 year ago
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Maybe I should post some of my headcanons in an IC format.... Then my blog will look less like a study. Might help me figure out her voice a little bit better.
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felikatze · 2 years ago
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plusquam funfact that i'm absolutely never going to bring up in the fic itself is that morgan is 13 in it
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uncleardyn · 19 days ago
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there's something really nice abt indy drawing people and animals he meets in his journal. reminds me of arthur in rdr2. yeah he may be cool action man but he also cares abt the people and culture around him! so of course he's going to draw the village elder playing with a cat
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imjustdatsnilermane · 3 months ago
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making this blog feels like being born all over again
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kleinewahines · 10 months ago
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"You're always welcome here. I really do hope you know that." Sarah's voice is soft, she's just leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. A reminder, especially after everything. It should never be taken lightly either, Sarah does not trust easily. With no discrimination to house va'ruun, she unfortunately trusts them less. Maybe no less than a lot of the freestar, though. Andreja has earned her place, she's just making that far more known.
Settling in one place for too long was slightly foreign. If not because, well, nobody was a fan of someone like her in their proximity then because your location being known was a hazard to your health. Keep moving, keep living.
Helping Constellation in its efforts had never been the plan. But she was nothing if not adaptable. After all, being caught while doing her job had never been the plan either.
For a while it is as if she didn't actually hear Sarah. Before a slow exhale left and she glanced over from her work in repairing and maintaining her helmet.
"I understand. Your assurance is... appreciated," she said after gathering her thoughts. The word seemed to fall far short of what she wanted to convey but could find no other alternative in her vocabulary. She hesitated a moment then, "Resentment breeds quickly. Trust is an... infrequent commodity."
She put the helmet down. "I therefore harbor no illusions how hard it is to trust me. Knowing who I am, what I am."
A chuckle then. "I often think of how if situations had been reversed, I'm uncertain if we'd still be speaking at all." She meant it as a compliment to Sarah's willingness to forgive transgression.
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marblesouled · 1 year ago
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darling, i've decided i'm going to be frightfully bold from now on
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judgeitbyitscover · 4 months ago
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Enchanted Forest Chronicles (1985-1995) by Patricia C. Wrede
Cover Art by Tim Hildebrandt*
Scholastic, Point Fantasy series published in 1995-1998**
Dealing with Dragons (1990)
Cimorene is everything a princess is not supposed to be: headstrong, tomboyish, smart - and bored. So bored that she runs away to live with a dragon - and finds the family and excitement she's been looking for.
Searching for Dragons (1992)
Cimorene, the princess who refuses to be proper, is back--but where is Kazul the dragon? That's what Cimorene is determined to find out.
Luckily--or perhaps not-so-luckily--she's got help: Mendenbar, the not-very-kingly King of the Enchanted Forest, has joined her in her quest. So with the aid of a broken-down magic carpet, a leaky magical sword, and a few buckets of soapy lemon water, they set off across the Enchanted Forest to tackle the dragon-napping and save the King of the Dragons.
Calling All Dragons (1993)
A Princess's work is never done--not even when she becomes a queen!
Princess Cimorene is now Queen Cimorene ... and she's faced with her first queenly crisis -- the Enchanted Forest is threatened with complete destruction!
Those wizards are back -- and they've become very smart. (Sort of.) They've figured out a way to take over the forest once and for all ... and what they have planned isn't pretty.
With a little help from Kazul the dragon king, Morwen the witch, Telemain the magician, two cats, and a blue, flying donkey-rabbit named -- what else? -- Killer, Cimorene might just be able to stop them.
And some people think that being a queen is easy.
Talking to Dragons (1985, revised 1995)
That's what Daystar's mother taught him...and it's a very wise lesson--one that might just help him after his mom hands him a magic sword and kicks him out of the house. Especially because his house sits on the edge of the Enchanted Forest and his mother is Queen Cimorene.
But the tricky part is figuring out what he's supposed to do with the magic sword. Where is he supposed to go? And why does everyone he meets seem to know who he is?
It's going to take a particularly hotheaded fire-witch, a very verbose lizard, and a badly behaved baby dragon to help him figure it all out.
And those good manners certainly won't hurt!
*The art for the Point Fantasy covers of Searching for Dragons, Calling All Dragons, and Talking to Dragons is uncredited; however, the style of the dragon in particular is both unique and consistent between the covers.
**as best as I can figure it.
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senualothbrok · 1 year ago
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Mortal pleasures
Summary: Gale has shown you how gods bond in the astral. Now, you show him how good mortal pleasures can be.
Word count: 2.1k
AO3 link
Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.
More disclaimers: Oral sex (blow job). Vaginal fingering.
A/N: This fic is long overdue, because I am a Gale-deserves-a-blow-job truther. Dedicated to @practicallydeadinside-blog who I love more than words can describe!
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“And that’s how I got this baby.” Karlach smacks the scar on her right thigh with a grin. 
You nod absently. You can barely make out the jests that roar around your companions, their faces illuminated only by the campfire you huddle around on this spring night. Your focus is on him alone.
Gale’s gaze is sharp and hot, his lips curled in a sideways smile. He tilts his head ever so slightly. You do not move your eyes from him. It does not escape you, the dart of his tongue through the briefest parting of his mouth. You bite your lip.
Astarion coughs, slapping his knees as he rises. “And with that revolting tale, I think it’s time for us all to clear off.” 
“What?” Karlach whines. “Already? Boooo…”
“Take a hint, darling,” Astarion drawls. “I’ve had enough of whatever this is.” He makes a gesture of distaste towards you and Gale. 
You flush. Astarion chortles.
“Enjoy the magic, but please keep it down. We know how…verbose…the two of you can be.” 
You shrink at the winks, grumbles and jostling of the rest of your companions as they file away to their respective tents. It was wishful thinking to hope they were not aware of your time with Gale the night before, when your souls bonded in the astral. To think that they could not see how both of you had been transformed by the experience.
There is a chill in the air, but your core flames. There is no embarrassment in Gale’s eyes. Only the raw heat of desire.
“Alone at last,” he breathes.
Tonight, he is unusually quiet. He lets his actions speak. You barely make it to his tent. He wraps his arms around you from behind, unlacing the straps of your bodice with uncanny speed. Your struggle for breath as his deft fingers clutch at your breasts, your shoulders, your hips. You have been waiting all day for this moment. To be with him, to have him all to yourself. To give yourself to him again. 
You grind backwards against his thrumming body, aching for more of his touch. He clasps your chin to angle your neck back, as if he is starving to see your face. Your tongues glide against each other, frantic with hunger, a frenzy of moans. He tastes sweet and strong, like aged wine, and you cannot get enough. You can never have enough of him. 
“I didn’t lie,” you whisper when you break apart to breathe. “You’re a good kisser.”
He smiles against your lips before he plunges back in, lapping eagerly at your wet warmth. You are drunk from his musk, the sourness of sweat, the smoothness of sandalwood. You are not careful as you whip open his robe, shoving his sleeves down his arms, pushing them desperately down. You need to see him. You need to feel and smell and taste every inch of his quivering flesh. 
He lets out a little laugh, surprised, not displeased. Then, with one swift motion, he wrenches your breeches off your quaking legs. You gasp at the force of it, the smouldering in his eyes. His fingers dive behind your panties, already damp with desire. He almost rips them off.
“I want to show you more,” he pants. “Everything you could possibly imagine. Let me show you.”
A crackle of blue thread sizzles between his fingers. A spasm of bliss tears through you like lightning, sending you gasping for breath. You burn for more of it. But you steel yourself. 
Since your night together, you have not been able to get the idea out of your mind. You have been ravenous for it. And now is your chance.
You pull back.  
“No.”
Gale falters, the blue light of his magic fading into the purple of his glowing chest. You press against him again, licking at his bottom lip, gently sucking it into your mouth. He buckles against you.
“No?” 
You smile, teasing but resolute. 
“Yesterday, you showed me how to bond the way gods do.”
Your hand trails down his abdomen, following the hairs that meander from his navel to his groin. His breath hitches. He hangs on your every word, your every move. You are not a wizard or a sorcerer, but he is under your spell.
“Today, I want to show you how good mortal pleasures can be.”
His eyes flash. Before he can object, you push him downwards and back, so that he is reclined on his bed roll. Uncertainty blinks across his features as you pull his briefs down to expose the thrust of his cock. You clench your thighs as a string of moisture trickles from your folds.
He stares at you on your knees by his side. You lean forward, taking hold of his shaft, so thick and long in your small hands. Dark pink and purpling, veins drifting down to a wiry nest framed by the muscles of his lean thighs. You wet your lips. His cock pulses in your fingers, a bead spilling from its tip as he exhales sharply.  
“Gods,” he heaves.
You bend over. You are acutely aware of the way his body is suspended in the anticipation of pleasure. You can feel it vibrate, chasing after your touch. The tent is awash in his purple flame. You flare with yearning as you flick your tongue into his slit, gathering this first trace of his salty sweetness. He arches his back and groans.
“Has anyone ever done this to you?” 
Your tongue traces a slow, winding stripe down the underside of his cock. He trembles. You look up at him, mouth open, eyes wide and expectant.
He swallows. “A long time ago. Once, when I was very young. It was…quick. Clumsy. Messy.”
You suspected this might be the case. There was no way Mystra would have ever lowered herself to give Gale such a human gift, and you cannot imagine Gale asking any lover for such raw, unbridled ecstasy.  It makes you even more desperate. You want nothing more than to give this to him now.
“We’ll rectify that.”
You drag your tongue in a smooth circle at the base of his cock. He stifles a whine as his hips roll closer to your mouth. Gale’s longing is so palpable that it throbs wet and hot within you. But when you look up, he is frowning. He reaches towards you. 
“My love,” he huffs. “You really don’t need to-”
You anticipated this. Gale prides himself on giving, not receiving. He never asks, for fear of being turned away. He cannot fathom that anyone would get on their knees to show him their adoration. That anyone would ache to give him this most mortal of pleasures.
“I want to, Gale.” 
You take his straying hand and run your mouth over his palm. His eyelids flutter as your tongue flickers softly over the pads of his fingers. 
“I want to taste you. I want to show you how good this feels. Please let me show you.”
It is not completely selfless. You have been dreaming of doing this to Gale since you shared a moment in the Weave. You enjoy this act much more than he knows. He will find out just how much you enjoy it.
He grasps for a response and fails. For an instant, you savour the sight of Gale rendered speechless by your designs. Then you resume your position, your face tilted upwards beside his growing hardness. You can see him unravelling at the sight of it resting against your cheek, hovering beside the shining plumpness of your lips. His brown eyes are almost black, dilated in a stupor of need. 
“Or does this not feel good?”
He lets out a guttural moan as you slide his cock into your mouth. Your lips tighten around his girth as you roll your tongue around its head. You pump forward and backwards, once, twice, three times. With each stroke, waves of molten heat blaze through your centre, your clit swelling against your folds as you rock. Moisture trails down your chin as you draw back and look up at him.
“Do you like that?” 
The sound that escapes his lips is a muffled plea. His face is flushed, helpless, urgent. 
You grin. His back bows as you take him back inside you. You take your time, drawing out his pressure points, feeling for the rhythm of his pleasure. The slick sounds of you lapping and sucking at his cock fill the tent as you drive his length deeper and faster into you. Something about these wet, gulping noises makes you suddenly, overwhelmingly voracious.
“By the gods…”
You cannot decipher all the words that start tumbling from Gale now. You glide hungrily down to the hilt of his cock, thrusting it against the back of your mouth. Small bursts of his pleasure trickle down your throat like nectar as he shifts and sighs. Every blast of his yearning pools like lava in your belly. You whimper into his shaft, your hips grinding down into the bedroll, searching frantically for release.
As the storm surges within you, you realise that his groans are growing louder and closer together. You can feel him hardening, stretching your jaw with each tremor of your arousal. He fills you up so completely, there is almost no space for breath. You are famished, gorging yourself on him. 
You are abruptly aware of urgent fingers pressing between your thighs, demanding entrance. You sit up, turning to face him.
“Allow me,” he rasps.
You shake your head, trying to push his hand away. He does not budge.
“Please. Can you not tell what your pleasure does to me?” His gaze is ravenous. “Let me. Please.”
It was not your intention to allow it. You were to give and not receive. But you are powerless to resist as his fingers nestle into your gleaming folds. When he finds your throbbing clit, you crumple against him. His groin rises to meet you, his cock twitching at your undoing. You suck him back into your mouth with a needy cry.
You do not need a tadpole to know each other’s feelings now. You can taste the hardness of his desire, as he can feel the wetness of yours.
You shudder against each other as the world becomes a chaos of purple spasms. All you know is the whirling of your tongue around the head of his cock as he traces frenzied circles around the centre of your fire. A hot stream of slick melts between your thighs as he bucks against you. You can no longer distinguish between his moans and yours.
As his fingers flutter in their maddening dance, your mouth quickens to match his speed. You are aware of his muscles tightening as you grind against his hand, rubbing at every coiled nerve until it is ready to snap. Your whines are muffled vibrations against his skin. He lurches and keens as you lap and slide up and down his shaft with increasing fury, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
Then the ache within you explodes. 
The world shatters into blinding shockwaves of white heat. It is all you can do to keep your mouth wrapped tightly around his swelling cock, your only anchor as you drown in the searing surges of your pleasure. As you writhe through the aftershocks, you feel a convulsion down his chest, snapping through his hips, jolting at the back of your throat. 
He shouts out a strangled sound, his toes curling, his free hand clinging to the side of the bedroll. You quiver as the taste of Gale fills your mouth. You swallow each rush of his delight as he rides out the peak of his climax, his features twisting in the beautiful anguish of release.
You remain in that position as your breathing returns to normal. Slowly, your vision clears. His cock is still half hard and glistening as you part from it. You brush away drops of his spend from your lips and chin as you sit up, steadying yourself. 
He looks up at you from where he lies panting, his tousled waves a tumble around his head. His face is radiant with passion. His chiselled abdomen heaves with the exhaustion of bliss. The mark on his chest glows a muted violet.
“That was…”
He has no words for the experience. His gaze is bright with awe, gratitude, adoration. Swollen with love. It glints with desire, still pure and unquenched.  
You beam. “That’s how mortals do it.” 
He pulls you into his arms with a throaty laugh.
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milla-frenchy · 1 year ago
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Wolf like me
2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you meet someone who finally fills the void in you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Darkish. rough sex, oral (m/f), facial, self abandonment, toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spitting, biting, manhandling, unprotected piv, rimming, ass play, anal, creampie, reader is looking for pain, Joel is not particularly nice and not caring either. No age specified. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for beta-ing me, and hearing me whine 😭💕🫶 There are Joels that are particularly physically powerful, brutal, and sexually aggressive. I call them “beast!Joel” 😍🥵 Here they are: Carnal @pascalsbby | Daddy Joel & A day in the filth @toxicanonymity | Lost in the dark @iamasaddie. Thank you for these awesome fics 🙏❤️ Here’s mine :) The title is from Wolf like me by TV on the radio
part 2
Joel was pretty well known at the QZ. He had the reputation of a distant man, not meddling in other people's affairs and hating people meddling in his own. He carried out the worst tasks, those that paid the most. It was impossible to know what shenanigans he was getting into with Tess, the woman he was often seen with. Impossible to know why he sometimes met FEDRA soldiers on the sidelines, but without really hiding it, as if he knew that no one would dare bother him.
You worked for Robert and you knew that his relationship with Joel was tense. So for some time now, when Robert needed something from Joel, he went through you. Every time you met him, Joel lived up to his reputation. He grumbled more than spoke, he was not very verbose, he did not bother with manners and was barely polite. He used to roll his eyes an embarrassing number of times at you, like you were the stupidest person in the world. However, he didn't impress you, and one day, you caught a grin when you responded to him in a biting tone.
That’s probably how you ended up on your knees in front of him one evening, his cock in your mouth and his fist clenched in your hair. His massive hand on the back of your head holding you exactly how he wanted, while he was fucking your throat without worrying about the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
He let go of you, and ordered you to get on the bed, “cheek against the pillow and ass in the air.” 
You looked up at him, without immediately obeying, and he pointed to the bed with his chin. You got up and settled in, unable to resist his directive tone. When he knelt behind you, his fat cock in his hand, ready to push it into your core, you freed yourself from his hand, asking him to wait.
“Wait for what exactly, little girl?”
In someone else's mouth, this pet name might have been cute. Or kind. But in his, you felt like a helpless little thing in the hands of a man much more powerful than you.
“Wait until I’m prepared,” you whispered.
“Do you think I’m gonna make love to you, baby girl?”
He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your response which didn't come.
“Cause I don’t make love. I fuck hard. So either you take my fuckin’ cock the way I wanna give it to you, or you get the fuck outta here.”
You let him fuck you the way he wanted, your teeth digging into the flesh of your hand to keep you from screaming, while his fingers were firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. He pulled out just before he came, grabbing your arm for you to follow him to the side of the bed. His feet planted on the ground, he jerked himself into his clenched fist until spurts of cum covered your face.
Stunned by his animality, you didn't move before he pushed you down onto the floor, and he plunged into you, his tongue dipping into your aching pussy. He ate you as he had fucked you just before: like a hungry beast devouring its wounded prey. His fingers were everywhere, on your clit, in your pussy and in your ass. Yours were buried in his curls, clawing at his scalp, making him grunt against your folds until you came, exhausted, and finally relaxed your muscles that had been contracting until then, under the assaults he had inflicted on you.
Of course, he didn't walk you home. He didn’t even say a word to you, to be honest. He barely watched you wipe away the cum that was still on your cheeks.
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You continued to meet Joel on Robert's behalf, and you returned to his apartment several times.
Every time he fucked you, you felt like you were being tossed around in dark waters, the movement of which seemed strangely familiar to you. And above all, the feeling gave you the confirmation that you were still alive.
Joel wanted to own, to take. And you wanted to be owned, creating a perfect balance between you. You were giving him everything he wanted. Your body was always adapting to his, whatever hole he thrusted into. He probably licked and smelled every inch of your skin. Left bite marks on your body, as if his cock deep inside you wasn't enough, as if he needed to sink his teeth into your skin. Needed to show everyone that you were his. That you had been claimed. “I want you to use my body whenever and however you want”, you told him once. And he did. Days after days.
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As soon as you closed the door to his apartment behind you, you felt that the atmosphere was heavier than usual. He was sitting near the dining room table, facing the front door, and you.
“Who was it?”, he asked, in an annoyed voice, so low you barely heard him, while his fist was clenched on the table.
"Who are you talking about?"
“That boy, with you near the guardhouse this afternoon.” He spat out the sentence, his jaw clenched, the sound of his voice barely reaching your ears.
“He’s one of Robert’s guys, he’s not a boy,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. He stood up suddenly and slammed you against the wall with surprising agility for a man of his build. His hand pressed against your throat, his face lowered towards you, you only saw his dark eyes.
“You let him fuck you?” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.
“No, damn, Joel…”, you whispered.
He released his grip slightly and breathed down your neck, then moved up to your ear, as if to make sure that he would only smell your scent on you.
“Mine,” he murmured, his nose in your hair, his hand sliding from your throat to one of your breasts which he grabbed.
“Yours”, you breathed in his ear, your hand clinging to his bicep.
“I’m gonna be brutal, baby doll.”
“I know.”
He unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his hard cock, before grabbing your thighs and lifting you off the ground. He pushed aside the panties under your dress, and positioned his tip at your entrance. He looked at you, daring you with his gaze to tell him to wait. But it’s been a long time now since you asked him to be prepared. You only wanted to feel him more. Always more. And the faster he plunged into you, the more intoxicating the sensation was.
He sank in, his gaze boring into yours as his cock split your pussy. In one push he bottomed out. He pulled back almost all the way and thrusted in again, after tilting his pelvis so that you impaled yourself as deep as possible on his shaft. Breathless, you grabbed his shoulders to try to ease the way you were taking his cock. But he placed his arm against your back and tightened his hand on the back of your neck, trapping you in his embrace. He pounded you against the wall, and you were whimpering at each stroke of his cock.
“You’re mine”, he said again, thrusting in. “You belong to me, only my cock can fuck this cunt. You hear me, little girl?”
“Fuck… Yes Joel! Just you.”
“Not only your cunt. Everything. I want only my smell on you.”
He grabbed your chin in his hand, looking at you questioningly. You nodded and said “only you.”
“Good girl. Come here.”
He released you and grabbed your arm, squeezing it way too tightly with his large hand, before throwing you onto the bed. He was standing in front of you, his pants just under his balls, still covering his thick thighs. His hand was tight on his cock, glistening with your wetness. You could see the vein in his neck pulsing.
He spat into his palm before jerking off harshly while watching you.
“Joel”, you whimpered. “Please I want-”
“You’ll have that cock when I’ll give it to you”, he cut you off.
“Please Joel, use me”, you whined again.
“Jesus, you need my cock that bad? Get on all fours, then. And take off your clothes.”
You undressed and watched him remove his clothes, before waiting for him on your hands and knees. The bed sank under his weight as he knelt behind you. He ran his hands from your neck to the small of your back. He reveled in your eagerness, seeing your ass pushed back towards him. You wanted him to use you, the way he wanted. He placed his cock at your entrance, and thrusted in slowly. So slowly that it was almost more painful than when he would suddenly stick it in you. Like a bandage that you gently remove instead of ripping it off all at once. You felt your pussy spread painfully to let his cock sink in. You felt his skin warming you up from the inside. He kept thrusting, and you realized that you had been holding your breath since he dove in you. You breathed deeply, keeping yourself from moving backwards and impaling yourself on his cock in one blow. You knew he wanted to control the pace, and you wanted him to act that way. You wanted to be in pain, to feel things as intensely as possible, and for as long as possible.
You felt so fragile and vulnerable, with his massive hands on you and his cock piercing you. And at the same time, you had never felt so safe. Nothing could happen to you, with him.
Finally his cock bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled back and thrusted in with a brutal move this time, as you reflexively leaned forward. He tightened his embrace, threatening “don’t you dare. You’re gonna take my cock, as I want you to take it.” You bit your lip and nodded.
You heard him spit and you shivered as you felt his saliva reach your ass, his thumb immediately coming up to push it into your ring. You heard him grunt behind your back, guessing his contemplation between keeping fucking your pussy or claiming your ass. With a snort, he pulled out, dipping his tongue against your ass, lapping flat. You heard him jerking off into his fist and part of you hoped to see him desperate to the point of cumming against the sheets without having time to fuck you. But his primal instinct for possession was the strongest, and he positioned himself against your ring once he felt you would be able to take it.
He pushed, and you waited quietly, controlling your breath, until the tip was fully in.
“Oh fuck, Joel…”
“Always ready to take it in your ass, right?”
“I…fuck. Yeah. I can always take it.”
“Good girl”, he praised, as he thrusted in suddenly, the brutality of his action clashing with the sound of his voice. You didn't have time to say a word, he was already pulling back before burying himself again, showing you once more that you were his, pinching your hips, and you knew that the morning after your skin there would be blue.
“Turn around, I want to see your face while I fuck your ass,” he said, pulling back and manhandling you to turn around.
You lay on your back, and he grabbed the back of your knees to bring them closer to your shoulders before thrusting in. The position made the penetration so deep that you thought he was actually going to tear you in half. His growls were more animalistic than human and you lost yourself in their sounds. 
“Look”, he said. “Look at my cock, ruining your ass.”
He pulled his torso away from yours and you looked down, where your bodies were one.
“Fuck, baby doll. Look. You’re taking it so good.”
“Joel... Let off all your steam. Use me for that.”
“Shit you’re…you never get enough of that cock.”
He fucked you, probably harder than ever, and you couldn't feel your body anymore.
“Lose yourself in me”, he told you, looking at you as if he was reading you. “I’m here for it”, he added. You came, hearing him, your clit rubbing against his lower stomach.
Burying in your ass, he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them above your head, placing his mouth against your armpit, licking away the beads of sweat hidden there and growling against your skin.
“Jo…fuck. Joel.”
“Mmmm?”, he growled.
“The sounds you make, when you fuck me. I…- fuck.. I feel so full - …I love these sounds.”
For the first time, you thought you saw a loss of control in him, and you tried to catch his gaze. When he froze inside you and shot the hot spurts of cum into your ass, all you could think about was the dark waves you were floating in, and you came a second time on his cock.
You got dressed and as you were leaving he grabbed you, holding you against him like no one had ever done before. He held you so tight that it was painful, but you would have let him crack one of your ribs if it would allow you to continue this embrace. When he released you, you tried to meet his gaze again, but he had already turned away from you.
When you got back to your apartment, you knew you were screwed. Fucking with him, letting him use you in any possible way, was no longer enough.
Part 2
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Thank you for reading 🙏
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️
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writing-the-stars · 7 days ago
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Mikaelson Ball (Kol)
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Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Fem!Reader
Summary: After a thousand years apart, you reunite with your long-lost love. However, all is not as it seems.
Warnings: ANGST (Like a sickening amount. I laid it on THICK this time), Talks of Death and Murder, Canon-Typical Violence (Really just a small confrontation that happens in the episode). Let Me Know If I Forgot Something
Word Count: 6.6k (I wasn't even expecting it to be this long!!!)
A/N: Hey guys! So, just wanted to let you know this is my last Kol fic (unless a request is submitted). I have debated on whether or not I should even post this, but I worked REALLY hard on this and I would be sad to let it go to waste. This is one of the first TVDU fanfictions I started YEARS AGO, so this fic has been through a lot. In fact, it's been through so much that (depending on y'all's feedback) it has the potential to become a two to three part series (maybe 4, but I hope I'm not THAT verbose). As I was working I realized how long it had gotten and cut it in half, so Part 2 is mostly done and needs some edits, but if you all want it, I could post it very soon. Anyway , long author's note this time around. All of this is to say, this is one of my babies and I had a lot of fun working on it. I'm super proud of it and I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day!! (TL;DR: This is my last Kol fic (unless a request is submitted) and has the potential to be a multipart if you all want it)
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A storm of emotions brews within you as you anxiously await your reunion with the man who was once your everything. A thousand years have passed since you last saw Kol, and the uncertainty gnaws at you. Do his feelings still remain? Did your love really survive the passage of time?
A thousand years is an eternity— a vast expanse of time that undoubtedly swallowed all the moments you shared. The possibility that he has moved on weighs heavily on your mind, as cruel as it seems. After all, you’ve been dead.
Your stomach tightens with a wave of panic. What are you doing here? you question. The thought of turning around, leaving this past behind, grows increasingly tempting. Walking away seems like the safer option, a way to protect your fragile heart from the weight of inevitable disappointment. Just as your feet begin to move, the voice of Esther— unmistakable and clear— pierces the air, as if she knew exactly what you were about to do.
“I want us to be a family again. And to prove my good intentions, I have brought a gift.”
The door swings open, and there you stand, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable beneath the astonished gazes of the five people who were once your family.
They look... different. But unmistakably the same.
Your heart lurches as you take in the sight of them, their familiar faces now etched by the passage of time. Elijah stands to your right, his once-shoulder-length hair now cropped short, and his attire— a tailored, sophisticated ensemble— commands an air of authority you didn’t recognize from the man you knew. Beside him, Finn’s leather attire and long hair suggest a nod to his former self, though a sense of quiet power surrounds him. In the back of the room, Niklaus looms, his sharp gaze cutting through the air. His presence is menacing, dark and commanding, a notable contrast to the man from your memories, yet the edge of familiarity remains.
To your left, Rebekah dons a stunning red piece that resembles a dress, radiating timeless grace. Her beauty is still as striking as ever.
And finally, your gaze finds him. Kol.
The moment you’ve both longed for and feared.
Anxiety grips you as your breath catches. Time seems to slow as you take in the sight of him— so like the Kol you remember, and yet... so different. His hair is styled similarly to Elijah’s, sleek and sophisticated, and his attire— though foreign— seems to suit him perfectly, giving him an almost regal quality.
But it’s his eyes that stop you cold. His gaze locks with yours, and the world falls away. He looks at you with the same eyes that once held yours with such warmth and passion, promising you forever.
Your pulse quickens. The same mischievous glint dances in his eyes—an emotion so familiar and intimate that it stirs something deep inside you. For a heartbeat, you feel as though you’re standing in the past again, caught in that beautiful, tragic moment when he first swept you into his world.
“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice thick with disbelief. His tone lingers in the air like a prayer, the name a soft, desperate whisper. It feels like an eternity since you last heard him speak your name.
Kol had long resigned himself to the belief that he would never see you again, after your death a millennium ago— the true love of his life. Your loss had driven him to madness, compelling him to descend into the darkest recesses of his vampiric existence. For centuries, he had nothing to hold onto, nothing to desire or cherish.
And yet, here you are, standing before him— alive— and just as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes on you. The youngest Mikaelson son is rendered speechless as he struggles to hold onto this fragile thread of reality, having only dreamed of this moment. 
Unable to stop yourself, you move toward him, your feet unsteady as you draw closer. Kol’s eyes soften, disbelief giving way to awe as he steps forward, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch is so tender, so tentative, as though he fears you might vanish.
A smile stretches across his face— small, incredulous, but genuine. The same smile that once set your heart on fire.
You smile back, the flood of emotions overwhelming you. “Hi, Kol,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the joy you thought you would never feel again.
Without another word, he pulls you into a kiss— deep, urgent, filled with longing and a desperate love that spans a thousand years. His lips press against yours as if he’s trying to make up for all the time lost, all the moments stolen from you both.
When the kiss breaks, he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Darling, I’ve missed you so much.”
His voice is raw with emotion, a depth of feeling you thought might have dulled with time. But there is no denying it— his love for you remains. He still loves you.
“I’ve missed you too,” you reply, a fresh wave of tears spilling down your cheeks as you gaze at him, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his expression.
You turn your gaze to the rest of the Mikaelsons— your family— who are still staring at you with wide eyes. Shock, awe, and disbelief reflect in each of their faces. You’ve been gone for so long, and your death left scars on them all.
You let out a soft laugh, brushing the tears from your cheeks, and speak the words that have been in your heart for so long, “I’ve missed all of you.”
For a moment, the room is silent, the magnitude of your return sinking in. Finally, Elijah speaks. “How is this possible, Mother?” he asks, turning to Esther for an explanation. The rest of the family follows suit, each of them seeking the truth in their eyes.
Esther steps forward, a serene smile gracing her lips as she addresses them. “On the night of Y/N’s passing, I managed to preserve her body,” she explains, her voice calm and measured. “I kept it hidden, safe within the caves from which I was resurrected. Though Y/N is not bound to us by blood, she is a cherished member of this family. We would not be whole without her.”
As Esther finishes her explanation, the Mikaelsons— one by one— rush toward you. Rebekah is the first to reach you, pulling you into a tight, emotional hug, her tears blending with your laughter. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers through her tears, holding you close.
The others follow, each one enveloping you in their arms, their joy and disbelief palpable. Kol stays close by, never letting you slip from his side, his hand always finding yours, his gaze never leaving your face.
The night passes in a blur of hugs, laughter, and tears. And as the reunion unfolds around you, you realize that all those years spent in darkness and sorrow have finally come to an end. You are home. And you are loved.
-*-
“Rebekah, tell me how handsome I am,” Kol calls out from in front of what you’ve learned to call the mirror. The thing still fascinates you— how it reflects your image so clearly, no magic involved.
“Ah, Kol, you know I can’t be compelled,” Rebekah replies from beside you, prompting a soft giggle from you in response.
Kol frowns dramatically, swiveling from the mirror to cast a mockingly reproachful look in your direction. A playful gleam dances in his eyes, and you can’t resist returning his gaze with a cheeky smile.
“Great, she’s just returned, and already you’ve turned my wife against me,” Kol remarks, his tone light but feigning frustration.
You snicker, your eyes flicking to Finn, who had been watching from his fitting. He turns now, offering a knowing smirk to his youngest brother. Rebekah, pleased with herself, flashes a triumphant smile before resuming her focus on her freshly painted nails.
It feels so natural to be here, like you’ve never been gone. The easy camaraderie you share with your family slips seamlessly back into place, like a favorite memory that never quite fades. The banter, the jokes, the teasing— it’s all so familiar. For the first time in a long time, you feel something like peace.
“I think you look fetching, Kol,” you say, your voice warm as you shoot him a smile that matches the fondness in your words. He turns back to the mirror, a pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he admires his reflection once more.
“Thank you, darling,” he replies, his voice soft with affection. He straightens his jacket— a suit, you’ve learned. The look fits him well, but it’s his self-assuredness, his confidence, that makes the moment feel so... right.
The door slams open with a violent force that rattles the room. Niklaus storms in, his fury unmistakable, his aura thick with rage. “You went after Elena?” he roars, eyes blazing, “What is wrong with you?”
Your stomach drops at the sudden shift in atmosphere, the lightheartedness evaporating in an instant. You realize with a sharp jolt that his wrath is directed at Rebekah, and you feel an uncomfortable knot tighten in your chest.
The Niklaus you knew— once gentle and kind— feels like a distant memory now. The years have twisted him, and his anger has fermented into something far darker. The warmth in his soul has been mutilated to a volatile, vindictive cruelty.
You think of what Kol told you, the countless betrayals, the violence. The times he daggered his siblings, locked them away in coffins, and manipulated every one of them to suit his whims. You shiver involuntarily, the stories of his temper leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Here we go,” Rebekah mutters under her breath, her voice still laced with amusement as she watches Niklaus’s fury unfold. You notice the small, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at her lips. She’s always enjoyed riling her brothers, a quality you’ve always admired her for— her fearless audacity. She isn’t afraid of Niklaus..
“Do you want another dagger in your heart?” he threatens, his voice laced with menace. 
You tense, your body instinctively bracing as you position yourself closer to Rebekah, ready to protect her if necessary. The weight of Niklaus's fury settles over the room like a storm, thick and oppressive. Though his anger intimidates you deeply, you can't help but feel a surge of determination. Not this time. You've only just been reunited with your family and you’re not about to let him tear them away from you. Not without a fight.
Even though you were warned about Niklaus’s drastic transformation, witnessing it firsthand is nothing short of jarring. The man who once exuded warmth, tenderness, and a kind of charming vulnerability now stands before you— his presence dark, heavy, and filled with an unrelenting malice. His eyes, once soft and capable of genuine affection, now gleam with a cold, calculating cruelty that sends a shiver down your spine.
The contrast is staggering. Gone is the brother you remember—the one who, despite his flaws, had moments of kindness. In his place stands a figure that commands fear, his rage so palpable it feels like an almost physical force in the room. His words cut through the air like a blade, each syllable dripping with venom, and you feel the pull of that darkness like a weight on your chest.
You glance at Rebekah, who, though clearly unfazed by her brother's outburst, has a flicker of something in her eyes—something you can’t quite place, but it’s there. A weariness. A resignation, maybe. She’s endured Niklaus’s wrath for so long that it no longer rattles her, but you know it’s still painful, still damaging.
“More dagger threats? Don’t you have any other tricks up your sleeve?” Kol taunts from behind Niklaus, his voice dripping with mockery and a hint of challenge. The boldness of it makes you wince.
You turn to your husband, your eyes wide with silent pleading. You’ve heard that Kol, more than any of the others, has borne the brunt of Niklaus’s wrath. How he’s been daggered more times than anyone could count, all for daring to cross Klaus in even the slightest way. You cannot stand to see him suffer that again— not when you’ve just found your way back to him.
Niklaus barely spares him a glance, his expression dismissive. “Oh, go back to admiring yourself,” he replies, almost lazily, his eyes flicking back to Rebekah as if Kol’s words were no more than a minor distraction.
You take a step closer to Kol, your hand brushing against his arm as you whisper urgently, “Kol, don’t—”
But your husband, ever the provocateur, ignores your warning completely.
“And who are you, my father?” he retorts, a biting edge to his voice, the sarcasm unmistakable. You can feel your heart sink. The last thing you want is another confrontation between them, especially when there’s so much unspoken between them already. But Kol is Kol—reckless, defiant, impossible to hold back.
A deep sigh escapes you as you close your eyes in frustration. This was never supposed to be the way you reunited with your family.
Niklaus, for his part, is barely fazed. “No, Kol,” he says, his tone chillingly cold as he steps forward, his imposing presence growing with each movement, “But you’re in my house.”
The tension in the room thickens, and you can practically feel the electricity crackling between the brothers. The history between them weighs heavily in the air, and you know how far this could go if Kol doesn’t back down.
You open your eyes, but Kol’s gaze remains fixed on Niklaus. There’s no retreat in his posture, no hesitation. The challenge has already been issued.
“Then perhaps we should take this outside,” Kol says, his voice firm, steel running through every word as he faces his older brother with defiance.
The air feels heavy as you step toward Kol, the tension in the room palpable— Niklaus’s silence speaking volumes. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know the danger in the air
“Kol, stop,” you urge, your hand landing gently but firmly on his chest in a desperate attempt to calm him. The contact should have grounded you, but instead, it feels as though you're pressing against a solid wall of muscle and defiance. His body tenses beneath your palm, and the force of his presence is enough to make your heart race.
The silence stretches, thick with the weight of the standoff, until Esther’s voice cuts through it like a blade, sharp and commanding. “Enough!”
She enters the room with her usual grace, but her modern appearance— fitting seamlessly into the fa��ade you’re all working so hard to maintain— reminds you that beneath her calm exterior, Esther is no stranger to control and power. With a glance that commands attention, she directs her words to Niklaus.
“Niklaus, come.”
He hesitates, throwing one last simmering glare in Kol’s direction before reluctantly following her out. Kol remains unfazed. His smirk remains firmly in place, his eyes glinting with the satisfaction of having provoked his older brother.
Once the door closes behind them, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You turn toward your husband, giving his shoulder a firm smack. It won’t faze him, of course, but it’s all you can do in the moment to express your frustration.
He turns toward you, his eyes wide with feigned innocence, though the playful spark in them betrays any semblance of remorse. “What was that for?” he asks, his voice light, unbothered.
“Why did you have to provoke him?” you admonish, your tone a delicate balance of exasperation and concern, “We’re trying to live peacefully, remember?”
Kol just chuckles, the sound rich with amusement. That familiar smirk of his reappears, and before you can protest, he leans in to plant a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if to soothe the tension in your own body.
“Darling,” he murmurs with a soft chuckle, “it’s all in good fun.” He pauses, his gaze steady on you, warm with affection. “Niklaus wouldn’t dare break one of Mother’s rules,” he reassures you, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.
Your breath catches at the tenderness in his touch, but you aren’t fully swayed. “Kol…” you begin, but he cuts you off gently with a playful nudge, clearly eager to move on from the moment.
“Now,” he says, a mischievous glint still in his eyes, “go finish getting ready. We wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.”
He gives you one last smile before turning to leave, still carrying that lighthearted arrogance that both frustrates and charms you in equal measure. You let out a weary sigh, shaking your head, as if to physically rid yourself of the frustration bubbling beneath your skin. You know better than to argue with Kol when he’s in one of his moods. As much as you want to argue, to make him understand, you recognize the futility in it. Kol is Kol— charming, reckless, and utterly impossible to control.
You can’t help but watch him for a moment, the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. A soft rustling sounds from across the room, and you catch sight of Esther’s figure as she steps toward Finn, summoning him for what is likely another private meeting. You’ve become all too familiar with the urgency in her tone these past few days— the need to push forward, to set everything in motion before the final hour.
That sharp pang of guilt hits you again, this time deeper, sharper, as the weight of your purpose presses down on you. You remember the true reason behind your return— why you were brought through the veil of the Other Side. You were meant to help Esther destroy everything you had once loved. Your family.
When Esther first appeared to you on the Other Side, she came as an unsettling whisper— offering you a chance to return, to see Kol again. But with that offer, came a price. She spoke of vengeance, of the Mikaelsons’ monstrous sins, and the desperate need to put an end to their immortal lives. The thought of betraying them, of helping the woman who had once so desperately tried to save them, had felt impossible. You had never seen the Mikaelsons as monsters, and the very idea of murdering them was abhorrent to you.
Theirs had been the only family you’d ever known, and even after death, your love for them, for Kol especially, had never wavered. How could you betray them?
And yet, the pull of Kol’s memory was undeniable. The desperate yearning to hold him, to be close to him again after all those years, twisted your heart into something darker, something willing to overlook the weight of betrayal in favor of a fleeting, fragile reunion. Two weeks. That was the offer. Two weeks to be with him again, to feel his presence and love one last time.
Now, it feels like a hollow, idiotic decision. To sacrifice his life— for two weeks. How had you ever thought that could be enough? After all, you had died to save him once, only to throw his life away for a moment of personal happiness. The enormity of that decision makes your chest tighten, suffocating you in its finality.
You glance over at the Mikaelson siblings, their voices drifting through the air, light and carefree. Kol, teasing Rebekah as she rolls her eyes. Elijah, offering a rare chuckle at one of Kol’s more ridiculous remarks. For a moment, the room feels suspended in time. The warmth, the joy, the familiarity of it all. It feels so... so normal.
But all you can do is offer them half-hearted smiles, your thoughts lost in the suffocating weight of the knowledge hanging over you. By the end of the night, you will be sealing their fates. The pain in your chest flares again, sharper now, as you look at Kol. His smile— so effortless, so genuine— shatters you. How could you do this? You think, heart heavy with regret.
Their laughter echoes in your ears, and it suddenly feels cruel. The humor, the happiness— it’s a cruel irony, knowing that it’s all about to be torn apart.
-*-
“The doppelgänger has arrived,” you announce, feeling her energy the moment she steps through the mansion’s doors. Your voice is steady despite the churning in your chest. You try to ignore the unease tightening your stomach, but it’s no use. The guilt of the plan looms ever larger.
Esther looks up from the table, her fingers poised over the arcane materials laid out before her— materials meant to bind the Mikaelson siblings together in a way that could never be undone. A soft smile tugs at her lips, one that’s full of satisfaction, like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.
“Excellent. The plan is coming together perfectly,” she says, her tone airy with triumph. Rising from her seat, she glances between you and Finn, her pride radiating from her. “I am proud of you both,” she adds, her gaze lingering longer on you, and you can almost feel her approval burn through you like a silent command.
Finn responds as expected, a soft bow of his head, the quiet humility of the eldest Mikaelson always present. You, however, simply offer a carefully controlled smile, masking the turmoil stirring inside you. You’ve spent enough years under Esther’s influence to know how to wear a mask, but it’s never been more difficult than now.
Esther clasps her hands together, her face hardening into something resolute. “You two should join the ball before anyone becomes suspicious. I’ll join you shortly,” she says, her voice cutting through the air with a finality that brooks no argument.
You nod, but the command weighs heavily on you..
With a curtsy that feels forced, you exit the elder witch’s chamber, Finn falling into step behind you. The click of your heels echoes through the hall as the two of you walk in silence. It feels like an eternity before you finally break it, your voice quiet but laced with an undercurrent of disbelief.
“Are you truly willing to sacrifice your life to further Esther’s plans?” you ask, unable to mask the bewilderment in your tone. Finn has always been loyal to her— his willingness to follow her blindly never ceased to astonish you— but this? To give up everything, including his life, for something that is, at its core, a betrayal of his own family? It doesn’t sit right.
Finn’s answer comes without hesitation. “I am,” he says solemnly, his face unreadable. “I am deeply ashamed of what I and my siblings have become. Mother’s plan for us is a gift—a freedom from the shame of our monstrous existence.” His words are heavy with conviction, but beneath them, you hear the faintest hint of desperation.
You nod, trying to suppress the growing ache in your chest. You understand him in a way— you once believed the same things. Esther’s words were like gospel to you back then. She had saved you, taught you to believe in her cause.
But somewhere along the way, that idealism faded, the weight of reality replacing it. You cannot see the plan the way Finn does, with all its promise of redemption. The quiet tragedy of it all makes your heart ache. You wish he had outgrown this naïve faith, the same way you had.
Your disappointment must be evident, because Finn leans closer to you, his expression softening just a fraction. He whispers, “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
You freeze at the question, your stomach dropping. “Of course not,” you reply, feigning offense, though it’s more out of instinct than anything else. “The balance of nature was disrupted when Esther granted you immortality; it’s only right that this imbalance be corrected.”
Finn nods, satisfied with your false reassurance, and heads off toward the doppelgänger. You can hear his footsteps fade, but your thoughts remain with him, tangled in a web of guilt and regret.
As Finn disappears from view, you let out a brief, quiet sigh, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical burden. But it’s quickly overshadowed by the sense of someone approaching— him.
Kol’s presence fills the space behind you with warmth, but that warmth does little to thaw the coldness seeping into your bones. The comfort of his nearness is only a fleeting reprieve from the crushing reality of your guilt.
The moment he draws near, you stiffen, and you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze. His presence, as always, is magnetic, but now, it feels like a slow burn— intoxicating and dangerous. You’ve never been able to hide anything from Kol, especially not the way you feel about him, but right now, the weight of your betrayal is too much.
“There you are, darling,” Kol says, his voice warm and affectionate, like a comforting balm to your restless heart. His eyes sparkle with that mischievous yet sincere gleam, and for a moment, the weight of everything else fades as he steps closer. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
The sincerity in his tone makes everything feel even more unbearable. It twists in your chest, amplifying the heavy knot of guilt lodged there. You want to meet his eyes, want to return his affection with the same warmth, but the deception you're entangled in is too overwhelming. His words should bring you comfort, but they only serve to heighten your sense of impending betrayal.
Kol stops in front of you, his gaze drinking you in, and you catch the awe in his eyes— the way he looks at you now, as if you were a treasure he’d long lost and finally found again, makes your heart ache.
“You look absolutely ravishing tonight,” he murmurs, the words like velvet, and it causes your cheeks to flush a deep crimson. The compliment, so effortlessly given, only deepens the knot inside you. You want to smile, to accept his praise with the same joy he’s giving it, but it’s difficult to reconcile the beauty he sees before him with the dark truth lurking behind it.
You lower your gaze, unsure of how to handle this moment where his admiration feels both like a gift and a weight. Kol notices the way you shy away, and his smile only grows, delighted by your modesty, though there’s a tenderness in the way his eyes soften.
He steps closer, his hand lifting your chin with a gentleness that feels like it’s meant to reassure you. Your heart skips a beat as his fingers graze your skin, so familiar, so Kol. When his gaze locks onto yours, it’s as if the world falls away—there’s no Esther, no plan, no guilt... just him.
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips.
The kiss is a spark of warmth that spreads through you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. It's the same feeling you had when he kissed you all those centuries ago, when you were alive, when you could never have imagined the distance time would create between you.
You want to lose yourself in the tenderness of the moment, to forget everything but Kol and the love he’s offering, but the sharp edge of reality cuts through the haze. This is not a simple reunion. This is not the sweet promise of forever. This is a stolen moment, tainted by the knowledge that you will soon betray him in ways you can't yet fully comprehend.
When Kol pulls away, his eyes remain locked on yours, his smile gentle and full of affection. “I am so happy to have you back,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing.
His words are meant to comfort, but instead, they deepen the ache in your chest. The warmth of his sentiment is a stark contrast to the cold reality you’re living. You want to tell him everything— that you’re not who you used to be, that you have to make hard choices, that your love for him is bound up in a betrayal so great it makes you sick— but the words won’t come. Instead, you just stand there, caught in the weight of your own silence.
The tenderness in his gaze is so overwhelming, it makes your heart ache in ways that no longer feel sweet. The shame creeps in, tightening its grip, suffocating the joy that his presence should bring.
You wish you could feel the same peace, the same certainty that Kol exudes in this moment. But the truth is, you’re already drowning in the lies you’ve woven, and the deeper you go, the harder it will be to come back up.
Elijah’s commanding voice cuts through the heavy air. "Attention, everyone," he calls, the authority in his tone silencing the room instantly. His intervention is a welcome relief, allowing you a moment to steady yourself before Kol can ask more questions, questions you’re desperately trying to avoid.
Kol’s arm remains possessively around your waist, as he guides you toward the grand staircase— a protective gesture that, for all its warmth, feels like a chain locking you to this moment. The familiar sensation of his touch should comfort you, but tonight it only adds to the weight pressing down on your chest.
“Welcome. Thank you for joining us,” Elijah continues, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. His presence always commands attention, and tonight it is no different. As you stand on the grand staircase with the Mikaelsons, you scan the crowd below, hoping to catch a glimpse of the doppelgänger. If you can speak with her, if you can convince her to leave before Esther has her ear, maybe you can stop this madness. Maybe you can save them.
But deep down, you know it’s futile. Esther’s plan is already set in motion, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.
“You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it's tradition to begin the evening with a dance,” he announces smoothly, with just the right mix of warmth and command. His words stir a strange mix of nostalgia and dread within you.
You knew this night would come— when they would all stand together, united for the first time in a thousand years. And yet, as much as you’d once longed for a reunion like this, now it feels like a cruel joke. The only reason you’ve been brought together is so they can die.
You feel a shiver creep down your spine as Elijah continues. “Tonight’s pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourself a partner, join us in the ballroom.”
Kol’s hand tightens gently around your waist, pulling you a little closer. You instinctively lean into him, seeking the comfort of his touch, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the world could be perfect again. You exchange a look with him, both of you remembering the first time you danced this waltz— back on your wedding day, a lifetime ago. The melody, the rhythm, the elegance— it all floods back to you in a rush.
For a brief moment, the weight of your guilt lifts, and you allow yourself to smile up at him, sharing in the memory of a love that once seemed untouchable. The familiar waltz fills the space, and you can almost pretend, just for a second, that everything is as it should be. 
As the dance continues, your heart grows heavier with every step you take, the crushing weight of your impending betrayal sinking into your bones.
You feel nauseous. The closeness of Kol’s embrace, once a safe haven, now feels like a prison. The tenderness in his touch only serves to amplify the guilt that gnaws at you, relentless and unforgiving. Every step of the waltz feels like a step closer to your destruction.
“Are you alright, darling?” Kol’s voice, soft and concerned, pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. You blink, meeting his gaze for a split second, but immediately look away. You can’t bear to see the warmth and love in his eyes— eyes that once trusted you without question, eyes that you’re about to break forever.
You nod faintly, too scared to speak, afraid that your voice might betray the turmoil inside you. Kol studies you for a moment, a flicker of worry crossing his features, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he pulls you closer, his hand moving to the small of your back as he leads you through the steps of the waltz with practiced grace.
As the dance progresses, your heart races, each step you take with Kol serving as a cruel reminder of what you stand to lose. The beauty of the moment, the elegance of the ballroom, feels hollow now. Every spin, every glide across the floor, only deepens your sense of isolation, as if the room is closing in around you.
You try to focus on the music, on the rhythm, on the familiar warmth of Kol’s touch, but it’s impossible to ignore the gnawing truth: by the end of the night, you will have sealed their fates. And no amount of dancing, no amount of love, will change that. You need a way out. You need to stop this. But how?
Kol, ever perceptive, senses your unease. His brow furrows in concern, his gaze flickering down to you as he keeps the dance steady. “Y/N,” he whispers softly, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine despite yourself. “You’ve been behaving strangely all day. What’s wrong?”
The sincerity in his voice makes your heart ache. How can you lie to him again? How can you wear this mask when he’s so close, when he’s giving you the same love he always has? You know you’re being unfair to him, to the love he believes is unshakable, but the truth is, it feels impossible to escape the web Esther has woven around you.
You sigh, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, hoping to keep your facade intact. "Nothing," you reply, the word coming out more breathlessly than you intend. You attempt a nervous giggle, a small, hollow sound that you hope will deflect his concerns. "I guess I’m still adjusting. This new world is so different from how it was a thousand years ago."
Kol’s eyes narrow slightly, and though he doesn't speak, you can feel the weight of his scrutiny, his gaze probing deeper than you would like. You’ve never been able to fool him for long. Kol always did have a knack for reading between the lines.
He slows the dance, his hand resting more firmly at the small of your back, pulling you even closer, his body a solid warmth against yours. The intimacy of the gesture should comfort you, but it only heightens the sense of isolation gnawing at your insides. He’s here, so present, so full of affection— and yet you’re already slipping away from him.
For a long moment, you hold his gaze, not daring to look away. You know that breaking eye contact will only give away the truth of your turmoil. His stare softens, but there’s a glimmer of doubt in his eyes that you can’t ignore. Still, after a beat, he seems to let it go, accepting your lie for the moment.
He pulls you closer, his arm circling you tighter, and you feel the gentle pressure of his embrace, as though trying to shield you from the weight of the world. “I’m here, darling. You can tell me what’s bothering you whenever you’re ready,” he murmurs, his voice laced with tenderness, the words offering a strange comfort even as they add to the burden.
You want to tell him, you really do. You want to share your fears, your guilt, your plans to stop Esther— but you can’t. Not yet. So instead, you bury your head against his chest, feeling the familiar steadiness of his heartbeat. The rhythmic sound should be soothing, but tonight it only reminds you of the time slipping away.
The music swells again, and for a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes, to block out the noise of the world and lose yourself in the movement. The feel of his arms around you, the steady cadence of the waltz, the warmth of his breath—everything about this moment feels like a lifetime ago.
If this is all you have left with him, if your time together truly is limited, then you will savor every second. The guilt of your deception, the knowledge of what’s to come—it presses against you with suffocating force, but you push it down, deep into the pit of your stomach, refusing to let it destroy this last dance, this last moment of peace.
Kol doesn’t know. He doesn't know that the very family he’s protecting will soon turn on him. He doesn’t know that the love you share, so fragile and delicate, is the price for your family’s survival. But for now, you let him hold you. For now, you let yourself be consumed by the beauty of this one final dance.
As you sway in Kol’s arms, his touch steady and reassuring, you let your breath slow, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little. He’s right there with you, strong and unwavering.
His love, so constant and true, is a balm for your frayed nerves. You allow yourself to bask in it, closing your eyes and surrendering to the comfort of his presence.
Kol notices the subtle shift in you. The tension in your shoulders loosens, your movements more fluid as you relax into him. He looks down, his umber eyes scanning your face with a mix of affection and concern. Your serene smile doesn’t escape him, and for a brief moment, the weight on his own chest lightens. Still, the unease in his eyes never quite dissipates. He can’t ignore it—something is wrong, and he knows it.
Gently, Kol presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, the tenderness of it making your heart ache. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze, and you’re once again drawn into the warmth of his soul. His eyes—the deep, endless umber that always felt like home to you—hold a question, unspoken but palpable.
You return his smile, a bittersweet ache in your chest. Here, in his arms, everything feels right. He’s here. He’s with you. And yet, the world outside this moment is crumbling. But for a fleeting second, you let the world blur, wishing this moment could last forever.
With a soft exhale, you tilt your head slightly, closing the distance between you, and press your lips to his in a kiss that’s both tender and desperate. When you pull back, the words slip from your lips, whispered in a voice barely louder than the music around you.
"I love you, Kol. Forever."
His eyes soften, his lips curling into that familiar, affectionate smile— the one that makes your heart ache in ways you don’t want to acknowledge. "Forever," he echoes, his voice thick with emotion, as if he knows, just as you do, that forever feels like a fragile thing when everything around you is crumbling.
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therealvinelle · 1 month ago
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I just sent this ask to carnivorousmuffin when i noticed that they reblog a lot of your content (that seems to all be twilight-centric) and then also noticed that that you are THE vinelle, yah know, just the one who made me a rabid twilight fan twenty (or less but it feels like more) years after the end of its hype. so yeah, i wanted your insight on this, feel free to skip and thank you for all your writing! it's—entertaining does not cover all of it.
so do you think bella at some level feels jealous of/threatened by renesmée? i'm asking because bella has a complicated relationship with her mother and then, she dreamed she would have a son that looked like edward with edward's eyes and kept expecting that son to come to be. but then it's a girl that charlie compares to bella saying, she's a prettier baby than you were, i'm sorry bella but it's true and bella says, i know (not verbatim) and a baby who has the eyes (warm brown or honey or something was it) that bella lost upon becoming a vampire/becoming a mother. *then* that daughter is jacob's 'fated one' and bella ends up 'accepting it'. but also. jacob. bella's love interest for the past three books.
bella no doubt believes that she loves renesmee. *but is that all* she feels? maybe i'm grasping at straws but i've also wondered about this FOR YEARS, lmao while also lacking the interest and verbose-magic to dive deeper
Short answer: no.
For Bella to feel threatened by her daughter she'd have to consider Renesmee an entity that exists independently of her and who may act in ways outside of what Bella expects from her, and she doesn't. The way Bella sees it, Renesmee will always be her and Edward's child and she will always be the glue keeping Jacob close.
To put it this way: while Bella wanted to want Jacob to be happy and had made her choice to be with Edward instead, she didn't want to let Jacob go either, and she wasn't acting like someone who'd made her choice and was sticking by it. Suffice to say no matter how cold I was I'd prefer the cold to having a guy I know is sexually interested in me and who has taken liberties before creep into my sleeping bag, if I was also in a relationship it would be even more out of the question. The whole scene at the wedding, where she disappeared off the dance floor with a different guy for a few minutes there, also reeked of "Yes, I choose Edward, but oh hello looking good there Jacob".
To put it this way, Carlisle's reaction when Bella tells him two weeks later that she's pregnant reads to me like he thought she'd had an affair, and... I think he was shocked but not surprised.
What I'm saying is that Bella broke up with Jacob, but she didn't actually want to break up with him, and the unexpected happy solution was Renesmee being the proxy girlfriend to Jacob for Bella.
Notice how little has actually changed for Bella in Breaking Dawn after Jacob imprints - they both dote on Renesmee, yes, but they go hunting together, they talk and spend time together, and Bella doesn't have to worry about Jacob wanting more than she can give (I don't believe she was ever in love with him, I think they were each other's crutches) while the imprinting thing remains just vague enough, Renesmee being so young.
So no, Renesmee isn't a threat, she's the deus ex baby who solved all of Bella's problems in a way that can't possibly implode once she grows up.
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