Kol Mikealson | The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

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@tobeclosetohim | 6I-AUish

[itchtokill]

[from this.]

Late nights and lonliness can make a lot of bad decisions come to light. And Kol would agrue that falling into a hunter's bed? Was probably one of the worst decisions he'd ever made. Especially since arriving in this place, where he was so out of his every element that he didn't know what was up or down. Then...maybe that was why he'd made the choice that night, weeks ago.

He hasn't adjusted to this new village as easily as he had in Lawrence and Jo had the unfortunate role of being one of the first people he'd actually, in some way, connected to here. However good or bad it was, she'd gone out of her way that day he'd utterly lost it. To do what, exactly, he still isn't sure he understands. To help him? To lend a hand? To end him if it had been required, since it was always, always the job before all else. Except maybe survival. That probably took over anything else sometimes. Not that Jo Harvelle has anything like a descent sense of self-preservation. She charges in head first, act first, think later.

That was one of the things he liked about her. She took charge of every situation she was in, even when she felt like she was completely out of her element to do it. She never was, honestly, because leading was in her veins, whether she owned it or not.

Honestly, though. It was a situation born out of need and continued from habit and as time drew on and nothing changed, he wondered where this would end. Because it would. It would end one day, as everything always did, and it would either be a perfectly clean and even break or it would be the messiest damn thing anyone had ever seen.

[tobeclosetohim]

Days start. Days end. Days start. Days end.

She's up before dawn to the big room. To the books. To the map. She loses herself in the silence. In the job. She can't do too many people. No more than a scouting party, before she feels it. Oh, sure, she's fine in a group when they all pull together or have a meeting, but she doesn't do any more than she has to then. She can feel. That knife tip cracking the crust of that scab she's not sure will ever heal.

Doesn't matter. Whether the past falls or rises without her, whether she's damned them or hasn't, it's done.
Days start. Days end. Days start. Days end. She makes choices she doesn't want to think about. Survival is like that.

There's havoc and blood and mysteries. There're things there one minute, that are gone the next. There are powers. There are blackouts. There are bodies. It's a great giant damn fucking rat trap. But sometimes, there are the smallest levities that one must seize for sanity-sake if for nothing else. Because the rest is bleakness, and no one -- no the fucking hell of anyone or hell itself -- will break her. Never again.

Which is why Jo comes in, screen door slamming behind her, calling out for the boys in the house, who may be there or may not, "I got a box with a chocolate bar in it this time! Come, get on your knees and tell me you love me, and maybe I'll consider sharing a square."

[itchtokill]

[moved.]

@swanisms | Vampire hunter AU

[itchtokill]

These days, it was hard to think of a time when Emma Swan wasn't somehow involved in his life in one way or another. They'd been many things through the years, enemies first and foremost, if only because their natures said they had to be. Something akin to not-quite-friends midway through. Thorns in each others' side, but really, she couldn't kill him and do the job until she found something White Oak and he...really didn't much want to kill her and lose one of the most consistent companions he'd had since he'd been undaggered and brought into this current, 21st century.

Somewhere along this all too messy road, though, they'd changed again. For better or worse, they'd actually gotten...close. Closer than any hunter and vampire should probably be. Kol didn't think too deeply on it, truth be told, because he never gave anything like this too much thought. Things got messy when you thought about them, so he left it alone.

"There's a darkness in you," he'd told her. "I like it when you let it show through."

He meant it. Sometimes, he could see it in her eyes, this piece of her she tried so desperately to push aside and bury. But even if she managed to hide it again for awhile, it would always find its way back to her. That was the part that had drawn him in at first, and it was the part that kept him here now.

She was still asleep, crashed on the couch like she'd insisted on, even when he'd tried to give her the bed like a proper gentleman. She was stubborn, so he'd let her have the win. Now, he was in the kitchen, making coffee. He didn't need it, he barely even needed sleep most of the time, but he liked it and he had a feeling she wouldn't hate waking up to it at any rate.

He drops down into a chair at the table and tips it back on two legs, staring out into the other room, eyes squinted something fierce. She was different, somehow, than other hunters. He just...couldn't quite put his finger on it. He shakes his head and drops the chair down to the ground and sips at his coffee. He shouldn't think too much on it anyway. He doesn't need any more mess in his life than he already has.

@bat_shit

[itchtokill]

[continued.]

Games are even better.

what should the rules be?

@tobeclosetohim | 6I-canon | Tattoo scene #1

[itchtokill]

The days in this place were all so incredibly long and felt rather never-ending, which says a lot coming from a guy who's lived as long as Kol has, who has actual, never-ending days ahead of him. Or, he did...until he didn't, and then he did all over again. Life and death were confusing concepts when it came to his world, honestly, tangled and weaved to closely together that you couldn't really separate the ideas. Especially in his mind. He was literally the living dead, in more than just the vampiric sense, but the actual, true literal sense. He was living his forever on borrowed time and that fact weighed on him more than he'd like to admit.

But one great thing about the end of a terribly long day is going home and letting hot water wash away the grime and the tension from his body. He doesn't have the luxury of staying in as long as he'd like, because unlike in Lawrence where everything was available in ready excess, everything here is about preservation, of self and resources alike, so it's over far too soon, but he feels better for it regardless.

He walks out into the hall, dressed only in the scrub pants and nearly collides with Jo and mutters a quick, "Sorry." He keeps forgetting he's not here alone now. But he reminds himself it won't be for long, just til they get on their feet again.

[tobeclosetohim]

It's close and it's cramped and no one gets any sleep in this god forsaken hell hole of universe of tiny damned houses and it's only that it's better than nothing. Jo was just walking out of the bathroom, for the cursory obviouses, when she slammed into and bounced back from the impact, of Kol.

It's not to notice she tenses. All of her, like a cat ready to spring back. The flinch of a hand straying downward. Only negating it a second later, as she gave a wave of her hand in the air. Still tense, but dropping her weight back in feet, even while her heart raced in an angry expectancy of duty. Makes her feel like an idiot because he's taken them in, and Thorfinn will try to look all annoyedly put upon in that very brotherly but also large, somehow, removed at soft, all at once Viking way, if she starts another fight that might get them kicked out into the rain that took the last house.

"Yeah, sure, whate-" Jo had started, casually enough if not for that tic of annoyance in her voice. Though it was more at herself, than him. But it was also him. It was definitely also him. Kol. The Vampire. That she needed the grace of. Grace of fucking vampire-debts. Which she was trying to close her teeth around, shrugging off this encounter, when her eyes landed on the bare chest in front of her.

That. Wasn't. Bare. "What the hell is that?"

[itchtokill]

"What?" He he looks at her with an eyebrow perked curiously. "Like what you see, luv?" He smirks. "So naughty, against every fiber of your being, innit? Debauchery's fun, though." He shrugs with his face, rocking back on his heels and preparing to turn away and go about his business.

Because he sort of missed the entire point of her question. Didn't connect those dots just right. Maybe because he doesn't want to, maybe because he genuinely forgets he has that tattoo in the first place.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo doesn't even attempt to hide her disgust at the implication. Not that anyone around here would expect her to. In what amounted to the ground rules of 'small stop before they were back on their feet' she had to manage not killing Kol, and something like occasional civility.

There was no way he was ever getting cordial. "Uggh. Never."
Not even if he was the last person in this place. "You're so full of--"

God. Anyone else maybe it would have been a joke. Could have been. That was just trash.

"What is with the tattoo? You think it's cute or something?" It's sharp and she's not letting him just leave.
She sounds about as insulting to, and insulted by, its existence as the cheap shot he just slimed out.

@tobeclosetohim | 6i-canon | tattoo scene #2

[itchtokill]

Kol is aware of how utterly bizarre this situation is and most days he still isn't sure what to make of the whole thing. These two people, who he'd only intended to have stay at his for a handful of days, maybe a week or two at most, who have now all this time later come to be oddly nearly permanent fixtures in his day to day life. People who he was sometimes dangerously close to considering his--his Viking, his Huntress--far closer than he'd like to be, in all honesty. He's been rather determined from the start, once he pieced it together and realized this place was just another on the list in the multiverse, he wouldn't like people and claim them as his. Because it led to where he was, empty and lacking, drowning in his own loss, and he was determined not to feel that again when the universe decided to shift and change again.

Except here he was, so close to claiming at least two people in all this mess right along with him. This tangled knot of whatever it was would...never exactly be what he had, before. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that. He can practically hear what Bekah would tell him, were she here: "No one ever takes the place of your first love, no matter how terrible they were they were still first." And in all his millenia on earth, how was it that only twice had he ever felt anything he could actually call love for people who weren't his family? And both in the same place. It was almost quaint, really.

And here he was again, in a similar tangled web of people and hearts and emotions that he refused to actually allow himself to feel or even consider at all. But the occasional fleeting thought passes through his mind before he can stop it and it always is followed immediately by the thought of how different it is, how the same it can never be. But it's good enough. And that's all that matters.

These thoughts are all rolling around in his head in the early, early hours of the morning. Thorfinn seems to have disappeared somewhere and Jo is still asleep next to him. It's still dark out, well before dawn, and he knows he should probably try to sleep for the last few hours that he has left, but...instead he just idly toys with her hair and thinks about things he usually doesn't allow himself to at all, like how the hair fanned across the pillow should be more like fire than sunshine, but it's not.

Re: @tobeclosetohim | 6i-canon | tattoo scene #2

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo doesn't always sleep peacefully, but she never sleeps very deeply. Not even in the long strings of quiet, easier nights. It's something she gave up even trying to pretend about weeks ago, maybe almost to months now. That she'd blink sleepy, but still too alert, eyes at someone getting up to use the bathroom, or just flopping a different direction. That sometimes if too much noise was happening, in here, in the house, in the world outside it, she'd give up trying even.

She'd been somewhere right under the surface, too tired from the last scouting mission, and last night, yet somewhere between that and all too aware of the stirring night noises, since Thorfinn's fingers slipped from the curve of her hip and he'd slipped the house shortly after. Footsteps made barefoot to be quieter, and doors closed just as quietly, but in the night, with no distractions, it seemed like the house breathed into it. Made it a whisper she couldn't ever miss either.

No one made anyone stay anywhere, for any longer than they wanted, and they all had their own times and tides.

Jo didn't leave anymore the way she had at the very beginning, whether it was in the night, grabbing her clothes and going to sleep in her own room, or waking in the early dark, from a night too spent to move, to pull on her jeans and head out to the Inn, sometimes meeting someone's eyes who woke, sometimes not even looking back behind her, but there'd never been anything like real goodbyes. Nor explanations, or promises.

Not any more than there'd been anything like real plans. She could still name on exactly what day count the first three times this happened, before she stopped. . . because it wasn't. She has a bed, but the truth is she, also, kind of has three. They all do. Even if it's not specific. No one blows on the uncertain boundaries. They just lean into it unexpected moments, and they find the others there like walls, and nets, in others, just as unexpected. No one has to stay, but somehow they don't go.

Like this, when Jo is blowing a slightly harder breath out her nose, at the faint, gentle, tug of her hair. Maybe the easy twist of a curl.
She's been too far from true sleep for too long, but she still curls in, first, eyes still closed, rubbing her cheek against Kol's shoulder.

[itchtokill]

He can't hate it when she curls into him like that. He's always been a physical person, and not just in the sexual sense, just...little light touches and knowing he isn't alone. Probably in part due to how alone he always was, on the outskirts of the Forever and Always pact and promise made by his siblings, on the move to stay out of Mikael's grasp and knowing he could do it easier alone, nevermind the times he left just because he was running from the toxicity that was his family in general. He was alone a lot, had empty beds a lot, and when it wasn't, he liked the confirmations.

He doesn't say anything to break the silence or the moment, though. Much as he could and almost wanted to, he chose against it because these moments, of silence and of peace, are so rare it seems silly not to enjoy them while they last. So instead, he just presses his lips to her forehead and continues to toy with her hair.

@idisobeyed | Medietas AU [in which AU!Kol stuck around]

[itchtokill]

Kol never quite knew why he hadn't been sent back like he should have been. Seemed like everyone else's alters had disappeared, but for some reason, he was still stuck on these blasted islands. He hated it, and he was in no deficit of words to express it, either. No one questioned that bit.

He misses a lot of his people from Lawrence. His demon. The proper versions of his siblings. Caroline and Rose and Bo and plenty of others as well. But he did have one thing here he didn't have back in California. He had Anna here. A different one, one who had only gotten to know him because of this place, who had never had a dalliance with a demon. He's not sure that makes up for all the losses, but it does make things more bearable.

He's sat up at the Roadhouse, nursing a drink and staring into the middle distance lost in thought, not paying any mind to his surroundings.

For @tobecloseto him | 6I-canon(ish?) | {What's in a name?

[itchtokill]

"Kol?"

Her voice, despite her careful, quiet tone, carries easily throughout the quiet stillness in the house, through the hallway. It's early. Early enough he could pretend he didn't hear her, that he slept through the attempt on his time, but...

"What?" He doesn't move to open the door--she's a big girl, she can bloody well do it herself--and he continues to stare at the ceiling like it might have answers to questions he didn't even want to ask.

Jo isn't the least bit shy, nor does she ever back down if she has something in mind, burning under her skin, that she needs to take care of. And this... this she needs an answer to. To know. "We need to talk." Arms folded across her chest, looking the very picture of annoyed just this side of the now closed door.

The vampire slowly lowers his gaze to her, and there's something awfully familiar about that stance, and all that blonde, but he can't think like that about her. She can't remind him of Rebekah because... well. She can't. He'll leave the thought at that. "Well, those are never good words to hear from a woman." He quips, voice light, teasing, like he can't feel the tension in the room thick as smoke. There's something coming, he just isn't sure what. But he's probably not going to like it.

"The other day-- the three of us, in bed. That morning?" She primes him for what's coming, but he can't have a clue. How could he?

He doesn't have a clue, but he's tense almost instantly regardless, even if he can't place why. Except that look in her eyes. "What about it?" His voice has a harder edge to it as he sits up, really looking at her now.

"You called me something." She takes a few, very careful steps toward the foot of the bed.

Oh. That. He's frozen now, because now he does know where this is going and he doesn't want it. He's tried to forget it. Her. Him. Them. He can't. But she'll make him. Stupid hunter. "Don't."

"Anna." The name isn't any easier for her to say than it is for him to hear, and she can see that written as plainly on his face as she feels it in her chest. Tight vice grip in her heart, squeezing around her ribs. And him? He looks like he was sucker punched. "Who was she?"

Kol felt like he'd been sucker punched. She doesn't understand how hard he works, day in, day out, to keep thoughts of certain people out of his head. The meticulous process of forcing those thoughts to stop in their tracks, force them back in boxes he wouldn't allow himself to open. Lawrence was a lot of fucked up, but it was a lot of a place that had become home and the people in it had made it more that than anything else. A realization he hadn't come to all that long before showing up in this bloody village. "I'm not-- you're not making me do this." And she can see it in his eyes, how he's already shutting down, shutting her out, letting every guard he's ever had in his ridiculously long life go back up.

Jo isn't one to push, usually. She's better at dropping things that people don't want to touch because she'd hardly want them to push her when she didn't want it, either. But this one is one she wants to touch. And she's not backing down. "Actually," She says cooly, stepping until her legs hit the edge of the mattress, standing like a looming tower at the foot of the bed, despite the lack of true height she has. "I am."

She doesn't ask again. She doesn't really press it. But it hangs thick and heavy in the air between them. 'Who is she? How did you know her? What was she to you?' But the part he doesn't understand is why. What does it matter? And more to that, why is he even considering telling her anything at all?

His head rolls back with a solid thunk against he wall behind him. He doesn't want this, not really, but there's some part of him that's screaming to tell her all the same. Like it would make a difference. Or ease the pressure living in his chest. "Anna Milton, Angel of the ever-absent Lord. She was..." he searches for the right word, but he can't find it, and scoffs instead. "I guess you'd say she was my girlfriend, but that doesn't-- it's not--" He shrugs.

He tries to find the words to explain it, how she waltzed into his life and turned things upside down, and what she meant, but he knows it falls short. Words can't convey those sorts of things. And Jo listens because it's what she asked for. Admits some careful facts of her own, and how she had knew Anna all too well herself. Maybe they come out a little different for it, with an understanding on either side they hadn't had a chance of before.

@diana_abel

[itchtokill]

[continued.]

Well, I'm certainly not your sissy, but what's the event for?

I'm curious now.

[diana_abel]

OMG

Did I do that misdial thing?

[itchtokill]

I believe so, darling.

Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to, thanks to this misdirect?

@typically

[itchtokill]

[continued.]

[It just so happens that he does have the same number, luckily enough. And unlike Jeremy, Kol has a habit of not deleting things because, well, you never know when you might need to contact someone. However, when the text comes in, Kol is more than surprised to say the least.]

Well, well, if it isn't my darling murderer.

What on earth made you think this was remotely a good idea?

[typically]

[ vague future canon au, it is. I've always liked your portrayal! I stalked Teleios a tad ]

You were my fake friend once, sometimes I have bad ideas. So, it's true.

[itchtokill]

[jfkdlafjd really?! :3 I feel honored!]

Yeah, and then you killed me like a petulant brat.

Yes, it's true. To what do I owe this non-pleasure?

@loistheintrepid

[itchtokill]

[continued.]

s'all right, luv. I'm not too fussed about it, world's better off.

My parents weren't...exactly the best people.

[loistheintrepid]

Still, I don't think it's ever easy to lose your parents, right?

My mom died when I was 6. Cancer.

So, um... guess that rules out meeting each other's moms.

[itchtokill]

The abusive ones aren't missed much, I don't think.

No Mums. I have a whole gaggle of siblings, though, if that counts.

World-mash/AUish

[hexenschade]

Being on loan to the Original Famly on behalf of the King was not exactly how Adalind had foresaw things going. She was so desperate to get her daughter back, though, that she'd have let the royal family loan her legal services to just about anyone now. The promise of getting her baby back meant that she was at the mercy; she just had to prove herself to Victor and then she and Diana would be back together. Granted, this entire thing would be easier if she weren't being sent wherever the psycho royal deemed necessary for her to prove herself. She would do anything for her little girl. Even prove her loyalty by letting Victor dictate where she spent her time, worked, and waiting for him to deem her allowed to reunite.

That was the only thing that mattered to Adalind right now, honestly.

She knew that here were a few reasons that he'd chosen her, anyway, which did give her a little bit of a leg up on the situation..and Victor. Being a hexenbiest, a witch, meant that she wasn't overtly afraid of the vampires. Sure, they were dangerous, but so was she if she wanted to be. Plus, there was the added bonus that she'd read about them under her mother's tutelage, so she knew just enough about them to, at least, feel prepared. Those things, combined with her legal expertise, the child that Victor was able to hold over her head, and the fact that nothing could ever be easy in the blonde's life meant that here she was. She would manage, though. Adalind always managed.

Heel's clicking, Adalind spots the person matching her description of Kol (one of several Mikaelson siblings) and beelines for him. "Kol Mikaelson?" It's no secret amongst hexenbiest that he's the one sibling interested in magic, considering how word gets around. She needs an ally here, and she's not sure if it can be him; it can't hurt to try, though, especially in her 'delicate' condition, plus everything else.

I'm only a year and 2wks late!!

[itchtokill]

This meeting was purely out of curiosity on Kol's side of things. He didn't have much to either gain or lose if it went badly, so he didn't have much concern either way. He's posted up in a cafe as he waits for her to arrive.

Right on time, he hears the too-familiar, distinct click-clack of heels against the floor. He turns and looks at the woman calling to him. "That's me. Adalind Schade, I presume?"