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.

@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 | 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.

[tobeclosetohim]

Lips brush across her skin and there's a soft, semi-sleepy, warm, noise that creeps up her throat. It's not exactly new, but it's nowhere near old. Nor really at normal. But it's somewhere at more often than not. The unexpected flicker of soft warmth. The passing gentleness of a single brushed touch in the darkness. One in drastic contrast with their days, with the more volatile, and even sometimes violent, way the both attack and defend their lives, days, even this thing with each other. And Thorfinn.

It tugs at something in her chest making her eyelids flutter against the darkness. There's still tension in the muscles between her shoulders and neck, and she's sure she'll realize she's sore and bruised in a dozen places, from her trip out in the sprawling wildness of the forest and cliffs, as from the lips and fingers that pressed into her skin on her return. But she's not there yet.

She's at the strange butter-yellow sun streamer feeling cloudy in her chest. The one she doesn't admit to that she gets. Not here. Not with him. Not at all.

Not that the choice chases the feeling from her chest, but she doesn't have to look at it when her eyes are focusing in the dark. Creating the shape of his chest and the empty bed, and slightly open bedroom door, beyond. It's early. Early enough for her to head off, but not near enough to dawn she'll feel anything like late, anything like she needs to untangle herself just yet. "I was sleeping."

It's a lie, but it's a quiet, forceless, kind of lie, not needing to be right.

[itchtokill]

He smirks slightly at the lie. And it is one, and they both know it, but he doesn't fight her on it. Mostly because there's no point. "Mmm, I think you'll live somehow." He hums softly, not quite mocking, but only just.

He doesn't think much about their...situation. Whatever anyone would like to call it. It's new, but familiar at the same time. Dangerously familiar, if he's honest, and he tries to avoid that line of thinking because he can't let it be that, never again. It's too much of a risk. He'd barely handled the losses the first time, still hadn't honestly. And sometimes he thought maybe this...was a replacement. Something that would never quite add up, but something to fill the gap all the same. And he's okay with that.

[tobeclosetohim]

There's a faint snort, and Jo's hand shifts as if unrelated to the noise. Thumb brushing across a line of his ribs, even as her words, but not volume, raise to the bait of his amusement. "Unless this morning is the morning you decide to kill me."

Her head never moves from his shoulder and chest, for all the glib melody of her words, with the curl of her tugging her cheek upward, and it really is a better joke-that-isn't on the mornings, or nights, or whenevers that when Thorfinn isn't there, because it's something he definitely doesn't get. Would put easily and flatly that neither of them is about to kill each other, especially now. With what this place has done to Kol, and the choices the three of them have made here, whether with hands or words.

But that doesn't change some things, and this is a part of them, too. Apart of only them. The way each has to the others.
They know who they are. Never stop being themselves, and they never start lying to each other, or themselves, about what the other is.

Or quite knowing how entirely to explain that someone on the wrong side of line somehow ended up being their near-mirror. Or maybe it's caught up in some amount of respect Jo can't say how she has, and can't let go, for needing, no matter what this world is and does and keeps taking from them, to go on acknowledging something few people get -- that you are what you are, even in spite of, and even more because of, the multiverse denying you from it.

That it belongs in your hands, stays in only yours hands, and those you choose to hold it with, or for, you.

[itchtokill]

He can't stop the way he squirms against her fingers against his ribs. He's pretty sure she just likes causing involuntary reactions in him because it's fun. "So far, so good." he quips back, not missing a beat because this is what they did, who they were and it was more natural than breathing to be at odds with someone like Jo than it was to be, well, whatever this thing with them was now.

Changes happen, it's a fact of life, but some things do stay stationary. And everything that was hunter and vampire in either of them wouldn't budge, no matter how far deep down and under this they ever got. End of day, instinct overrides and the just wrong word or move could make what was, usually, a promise more than a threat, become something else entirely. If he's honest, the uncertainty of it made it just that more interesting to him. He did so love his thrills.

@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.

[tobeclosetohim]

It really is something she never quite gets over or gets used to. Or at least hasn't yet, doesn't know if she will, about as much as she doesn't know how long the fragile web of all of this will remain tenuous for any of them. But the way he reacts is so very human, even if she knows he is so very now. Has to wonder if there was some line, or it was always thay way, since everything has ebbed from all of them, save Thorfinn for months.

There's a soft noise, somewhere between hmm and hmph, but still pressed barely against her throat, and the top of her mouth, her face pressed into the warmth of his skin. Like she was both not agreeing and contradicting and just not caring all at the same time. As though he might be harmless as a kitten in comparison to what he really was.

Her fingers traced up his breastbone, delight in the torment that made him move, and there really was only a momentary pause, at the never quite overlooked strange shift to a heartbeat in his chest, before her fingers skated the skin over it, tracing the inner circle of the strange anti-possession symbol Dean and Sam both had in the same spot. Something she'd gotten used to seeing, but that still seemed so oddly out of place no matter how consistent its existence had become.

A vampire in need of an anti-possession tattoo really seemed rather like an oxymoron in action.

Though she had to wonder if that was better or worse now that he might need it, and even whether it worked here.

[itchtokill]

He doesn't say anything for awhile, because he's morr interested in watching her. He twitches again at the light touch of her fingers, smallest of amused smirks hiding in one corner of his mouth.

He wonders what sorts of things to through her head in moments like this. But another part of him equally doesn't ever want to know. Whether that's because they are each what they are, or because those wonderings are suppose to be off limits by his own rules is up for debate. Both options are entirely viable.

"S'pose you recognize that, yeah?" He has never actually spoken about it, the reason behind that tattoo, why it was such a necessity, but...it seems unavoidable just now, if only because he spoke and broke the moment.

[tobeclosetohim]

She likes it. The twitching, and maybe even more so that he doesn't stop her. Doesn't shift her. At least not now, something like anymore. There's no obvious distraction. Pushing into her, turning her over, taking her mind off anything but every other part of his mouth and his skin on her, and hers on his. They're both a riot of lies and manipulations, even when they are playing at their best and most honest, and they're better than most at both on the opposite end, too.

They make it giving up something good in another way.

But this is, too.



When she takes a fingernail, instead of a fingertip, to start tracing up the lines of singular flames of fire around the pentacle, talking to her own hand as much as him without looking up. Sass, even in the soft, still sleep-slick stuffiness of morning not yet truly broken over the bed. "He says, as though maybe she was just born yesterday."

It's carefully not an insult, as she moves between each flame,
wanting to know, but not changing the position or equation.



For him, or herself, maybe.

[itchtokill]

"In comparison, really, you were. I have a whole millennia on you," he points out, smirk widening on his face. Mostly, he doesn't reference those sorts of things, especially with her, because it's such a stark and obvious reminder of what he is, but sometimes a comment just calls for it and he can't resist it.

He can practically feel the curiosity hanging in the air, and his stomach is doing twisty, turny, tie-itself-in-knots things in the wake of it. He's not going to offer it freely, but if she asks, he's not sure he'd avoid it.

And he's not sure when that happened, at what point she became someone he chose not to lie to, despite how easily he could and he knows even if she didn't buy a lie he was trying to feed her, she'd accept it, unless it meant anything like danger for anyone else, because it's who she is, who they both are, and they've long since accepted that not everything between them is completely honest.

Absently, and maybe a little bit in retaliation of her fingers against his skin, his slide through her hair idly.

[tobeclosetohim]

She wrinkled her nose and rolls her eyes, with a shake of her head into his shoulder, while maybe her fingernail digs in a little harder on the upswoop of that flame tendril. Almost like it's own accost of calling him a jackass. She's aware of the dangerous choices she's making, made. . . keeps making? He never stops being what he is, even if this place has pressed a pause button on all of the things they were before they came in.

Probably will be when they get out. Whenever that is. However that is.

(....which, as always, is a problem for whenever that day is.)


Jo doesn't let the quiet, almost there, noise that tries to come up her throat at the touch happen. Really, she thinks they both get a kick out of it for the similar reasons. She's so used to used to Thorfinn doing things with her hair now, and it's almost a joke to say it actually does sort of calm her down when she's pissed. Even if depending on bad she's pissed depends on how hard her head might get yanked fseveral times or a braid to be straight that day.

But it's soft, and it feels nice, fingers through her hair, against her skin, and she's already leaned toward his hands before she can even think about whether to. Chin tilting against her shoulder, and eyes raising to find his, as ironically, her hands softly flattens over the mark in question, and maybe . . . maybe something more that just that space of skin his chest. "Tell me."

Part question, part demand that has no fire in the just barely more than a whisper. She has so many of his other secrets. Like Thorfinn's. Like hers. Collected so slowly, in these beds, in these moments, that can't be planned or prepared for. That just steal and stumble upon them, and that they try not to break as forgrantedly as they do themselves, and each other, in the light.

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.

@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?

[typically]

Honestly, I thought what I heard was a lie, or a mistake. But, you're around. And, about your threat earlier, been there, done that, not like you know where I am.

[diana_abel]

OMG

Did I do that misdial thing?

[itchtokill]

He doesn't stop his fingers in her hair, twisting and carding through strands in a slow, steady rhythm, almost like it's what's grounding him in this moment. The reason behind it... it's hard-hitting and personal and something he never exactly worked through. Because how do you work through that kind of loss of power, of agency? You can't get over something like that.

"Did you know demons can possess vampires?" his voice is quiet and tight, and as much as he tried to push a bit of humor into his voice, he couldn't manage it. "One of them took me...wrecked every friendship I had, turned against my family...not to mention the destruction around the city."