chronic-escapixt

unsolicited opinions & depraved indulgences . 20s . she/her 18+ ONLY

[chronic-escapixt]

🖤🥀Welcome to the page of a recluse with too much time on her hands 🖤🥀

About Me---

First of all, Hi!

I’m Jen -- I’m Black/White/🇩🇴, in my 20s (I’ve stopped counting), also bi and gemini (just in case you were wondering). I’ve been on the platform for a while, reading and reblogging, having gotten into writing and posting somewhat regularly within the past year. This is my favorite place to share my writing and engage with my favorite fandoms- tumblr is truly one of the safest spaces on the internet to show love to your underappreciated black/poc characters (long live tumblr).

I use my free time to write or draw whatever I’m currently fixating on. Also recently started to touch grass and become more self-sufficient so I’ve started gardening. I might show my progress with that on here (I’m growing habaneros).

My fandoms:

The Vampire Diaries (the only one I'm writing for)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (a major conceptual inspiration for my writing)

Outer Banks (just for Rafexreader fanfics honestly..)

Hellaverse - Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss (don't judge me- it’s good sometimes and it heals my inner religious trauma)

My Writing: 

18+ ONLY (NO MINORS- i mean it): NSFW, dark themes/warnings including but not limited to: CNC, dubcon, non-con, yandere, murder, manipulation, physical violence, abuse, trauma, stalking, dacryphilia, angst, smut, rough sex, degradation, spanking, size kink, unhealthy dom/sub relationship, bondage, knife kink, choking, kidnapping, breeding, unprotected sex, overstimulation. (specific warnings will be listed on each post).

**REMEMBER: you are responsible for the content you consume, so please read all content warnings before interacting with my posts**

i write for fun and only the things i want to read and i dont have a consistent posting schedule since i just write and upload whenever i feel like it. (I’m trying to be more consistent & set aside more time for writing). Also, requests are open but it may be awhile before i get to it..

I write oneshots, blurbs, and one series— smut with a little plot (bc ain't nobody got time for that)

Kai Parker of the Vampire Diaries is the current fixation - actually witch lore in the show is grossly underdeveloped and rife with potential (TVD witch lovers come to the front)

Follow my AO3 @JinxzXscapism where I repost my longer works

Masterlists:

TVD Fanfics Masterlists(18+): Kai Parker Masterlist - Taglist Bonnie Bennett Masterlist (Coming soon)

[chronic-escapixt]

please more kai parker fics. i’ll take scraps atp. anything. you’re so talented.

I know I need to post more 😫

My drafts are full of unfinished wips, and between my perfectionism and my schedule, I’m slacking. I’m definitely going to post something soon.

[chronic-escapixt]

~ His Rose ~

(Kai Parker x Bennett witch OC fanfiction)

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, attempted murder, violence, mentions of blood, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, trauma (specific warnings will be listed on each post)

Summary : For Kai Parker, magic was everything— a weapon, his ticket to freedom, and the only way to gain the power denied to him from birth. Rose Bennett saw magic as a lifeline, a way to protect the people she cared about and an opportunity to bond with her recently estranged sister, Bonnie. When the day came that the Other Side crumbled into nothing, everything they’d come to know had shifted. Kai, as desperate as ever to get free in time for the merge, found his escape route in the Bennett witch who appeared in his prison world. She was the perfect victim— vulnerable and desperate for answers with no idea of what she’d gotten herself into.

Table of Contents: 

Details

I - Bennetts Caught in the Balance

II - Mystic Falls circa 1994

III - Kai Parker Saved Us

IV - Homesick

V - The Roadmap Through Memories 

VI - Kiss From a Rose 

VIII

I don’t claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). I suggest you read the details post because it includes the background of our main characters and important lore specific to the fic.

Taglist (comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future smut posts)

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose (Chapter VI) - Kiss From A Rose

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, childhood trauma/abuse, attempted murder, violence themes, mentions of blood, referenced self-harm, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, masturbation, angst .

Series masterlist I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). WC: 5.2K

The bell dinged in their arrival, releasing Rose from the residual lull of highway hypnosis. The hum of the engine still rumbled in her ears long after Kai shut the car off. He even had a few slips into the rumble strip during his last shift, which is why he didn’t protest when she suggested a good night’s rest at a B&B, small and local to the area.  

All she looked forward to now was a warm bubble bath to soothe the ache in her lower lumbar and sandwiching herself between thick cotton sheets. Judging by the cozy decor, reminiscent of her grandma’s house, this place didn’t skimp out on the comfort even if they did neglect proper dusting.

Rose took a key from a small cubby behind the concierge desk, choosing the first one, in hopes the room was closest. Kai followed her lead out of the doily-littered foyer. 

When they got upstairs, Kai handed over her duffle bag, for which she thanked him in a low voice that withered in her chest. She didn’t sound like herself, having abandoned the girl that was eager to power through the drive in one go somewhere along the never ending highway. 

If she could feel anything other than exhaustion, she’d rebuke her idleness, though it wouldn’t make a difference when they got there. If the locator spell was done right, then the ascendant was right there waiting for them. Still, she felt like she should’ve been doing more, calling her sister to mind. What would Bonnie do? In another universe, without her meddling, it would’ve been Bonnie in this very predicament. 

She probably would’ve found a way home by now. Bonnie’s near intrinsic knowledge of Sheila’s library would have proven more efficient than Rose’s weeks of wet-eyed scrambling. She wouldn’t get distracted by her emotions, let alone those for a stranger, even if he could be a gentleman. 

Kai had insisted he carry her bag from the car and sometimes she caught him setting back the timer to let her rest longer between driving shifts. He was full of that 20th century chivalry that’d long since gone out of style amongst men her age.

But then he opened his mouth. 

She turned at the sound of his conspicuously placed sigh. 

She’d either laugh at his jokes or return his jeering jabs, realizing he couldn’t help but amuse himself and she couldn’t resist indulging him.

“What is it?” She asked, wavering slightly on the business end of his arresting stare. 

“Are you sleeping alone?” He sniffed and she surveyed him, uncertain of what was lurking in his tone until he formed a tight-lipped smile. 

“It’s just for tonight, then we’re back together for another 24 hours. Do you want me to come tuck you in—give you a kiss goodnight?” She crooned mockingly. 

He rocked on his heels with a bemused grin, scorching her from head to toe. Her smarmy little face fell. 

“Maybe...” 

“Oh, I get it. You’re scared.” 

“No—” he snorted, “I’ve been alone forever... I’ve just gotten used to your snoring, is all.”

“I do not snore,” she bleated.

“Like a chainsaw—I noticed when we parked at the K-mart—Best sleep I’ve had in years. Turns out I just needed white noise,” he mused. 

She shot him a glower, growing testy the longer she stayed awake. 

“Kai, do you want to spend the night with me?” 

With feigned indifference and the shrug of his shoulders he sighed, “If you insist.” 

There were no complaints out of her about the frigid temperature as the water ran in cooling ribbons across her face and neck. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she'd lost a battle of wits.

He didn’t make it easy for her—masking his feelings with taunting antics. With him constantly riling her up and getting under her skin, it was only fair to peel back the layers of his.

When she’d channeled him the other night, her hormones roared into a frenzy, chasing static where their hands met. Only letting go when he pulled away. 

She knew he felt it too—more than she had—the intoxication of their connection was too much of a good thing after being deserted by everyone he’d ever known. 

There was more to him than met her eye. His dark exterior was meant to keep people out but it started to crack a little with her and she found it exciting every time. She’d never met anyone who monopolized her attention all at once like he did, kept her hanging on to every word, challenged her. There was tension there—the kind that could capture her with a pointed look, occupy her idle mind for hours on end— especially in the sacred privacy of the washroom.

She hated that the shower head wasn’t adjustable to get the pressure where she needed most as her nipples pebbled beneath the cold water, growing more tender with each swipe of the textured cloth. She replaced it with her bare hand, rolling and squeezing at the mound of flesh. The other snaked down her body to create a delicious friction along her hardening bud. The sound of the water pounding the floor around her shrouded the squelching noise between her thighs as she dipped into her softening center, drowning out reality.

If she had it her way, it’d be his hands reaching around her to fondle her most intimate parts. She’d gone so long without stimulation that her body was ultrasensitive and needy, though nowhere near as long as Kai. She shuddered to imagine the raw whimpers she’d coax from him if she had the chance.

Her core spasmed around delicate fingers as her pleasure hurriedly climaxed. Specks of light dotted the corners of her eyes. She muffled the sounds that escaped from between her lips. His name scratching its way up her throat:

“Kai.. kAi... ”

For all she knew, he was glued to the door, listening to the noises that threaded themselves between the crumbling grout. Another wave shamelessly rolled through her body.

Once she was dry, her insides were soured and conflicted, undercut with a swirl of arousal at the depravity of her actions. After stalling and dawdling away time, she stepped out to meet his sideways once-over from the bed. There was no way he’d heard her from the opposite side of the room, yet his eyes told a different story, monitoring her closely as he gathered his belongings and he split into the washroom without saying a single word.

Her fingers wrung the linen, nearly shredding the fibers in her palm as her breath stalled in an attempt to hear anything beyond the running water. When there was nothing out of the ordinary, she finally turned off the light. She needed to get a grip—and more importantly—sleep, but when the door opened and he stepped out in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, she noticed how the center of his chest was peppered with raven curls and his alabaster complexion had no more than three gingerly placed beauty marks across his neck and chest.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, gesturing to his body. 

“No,” she lied, bristling at the accusation. The thought that she’d rather stare at his chest all night than the inside of her eyelids turned his smug grin wicked.

She raised a brow when he grabbed a thin blanket from the closet and curled up in the arm chair.

“Kai?” 

“Yeah?” He whispered with his eyes closed.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping—” 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” There was plenty of room for the both of them and it didn't sit right with her that after all of that driving he ended up shoved onto a pleather love seat. “Kai, come on.” She pulled back the corner of the comforter, patting the mattress on one side.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The bed dipped slightly when he put his weight on it and reclined back, sighing delightfully. “Hmm.. memory foam.” 

She leaned toward him on her elbow. The moonlight’s glow split his face in two. Wet hair stuck to his forehead in a way that looked boyish and innocent on one side while the other was contoured in a cryptic shadow.

“Do you..” she started, losing the momentum in her words as she sunk into his severely inquiring blues, “...really think I snore?”

He stifled a chuckle, “I’m surprised you don’t wake yourself up.”

“I’m going to sleep now—” she groaned, flipping her back to him. 

“Good night,” he snickered. 

She yawned. “Good night, Kai.”

Somewhere throughout the evening, his arm found itself draped across her waist, her bottom curved into his hips with his head snuggled inside the crook of her neck. 

Once the sun came up, she found their bodies tangled this way, taking comfort in his cozy defense from the early morning draft as he purred softly beside her ear. As much as she wanted to get a move on things, to start a pot of coffee and raid the dining area for a few stale scones and those little jelly packets to go, her strength of will was surpassed by the comfort of his heavy arms.

They could stay like this for five more minutes.

She’d been dozing off on his shoulder for the better part of an hour after he’d assured her that the directions were covered. What she didn’t know—as the map lay folded on the dash—was that he knew the roads of rural Portland like the back of his hand. 

Many a weekend found him dumped off at the top of Mount Hood, watching his father’s taillights be swallowed by thick curtains of fog. While his siblings sat around the table sharing a home cooked meal, Kai hurriedly scaled the foothills and trekked blindly through thick underbrush that chewed his ankles until he met the ever winding road. If he didn’t make it home before Monday morning, his father would go back out and collect him. Kai learned early on to avoid this at all costs. If he didn’t make it, he’d might as well lay down and let the coyotes and mountain lions make a meal out of him.

Months of this persisted until Joshua was satisfied and Kai arrived like clockwork with dirt and sweat caked to his body, twigs tangled in his hair and reeking so much of wet earth that he had to be hosed off in the back before stepping foot inside. His father smoked a cigar with his left hand—a stickler for health, yet occasionally treated himself to this one vice while he relished his son’s torment. 

It was only to make him stronger since he didn’t have any magic of his own, he’d said. In that way, Joshua was right. Kai was extremely self-sufficient and resourceful. That’s why he always made his way back home.

The terrain rocked and rattled her awake along the dirt road despite Kai’s careful driving. Rose peeled herself off of his shoulder and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. An empty field stretched toward the west. It seemed unnatural, like the clearing had been made by hand, then thoughtlessly abandoned to allow wild thicket and overgrown grass to carpet everything until the forest’s edge. 

The house leaped out at her once they started down hill. 

“Is this.. it?” she uttered slowly as the car rolled to a stop. 

“The spell led us here,” he replied, unfurling the map and pointing to the location stained in dark crimson. 

It was very remote, about an hour out of the way of the city. 

There was a weathered shed in the back and piles of chopped wood nearby. She couldn’t shake the disquieting feeling that took hold of her as they eased onto the porch steps. Everything was lacquered in this white paint that stood starkly against the landscape and revealed chipped and peeling strips along the facade the closer she got.

When Kai opened the door it creaked on its hinges, like a howl of despair that settled right into her bones. 

“Rose—Rosy, are you okay?” She cut her eyes to him, nearly forgetting he was there. 

She hadn’t moved from the porch and he was already past the threshold. Her legs felt like logs of wood as she lifted one after the other to follow his lead, pushing it all down. They had a job to do.

The bloody history of this place was seeped into the woodgrain despite the stains he’d already scrubbed from the walls, floorboards and under his fingernails. All done in preparation for her arrival.

All his life, he was the black sheep, the reminder of his bloodline’s inadequacy, meant to dwell in the shadows and stay out of sight. When he chose to stop hiding, to take back what was owed to him, everything changed. He wound up sent here, but there were no regrets, especially now that he walked hand in hand with his naive accomplice. Everything was going according to plan.

They went through the living room, kitchen and laundry coming to a hallway in the back. 

“I’ll look down here,” she stated, gesturing toward the west end. Kai opened his mouth to discourage her private perusal, but decided against it. There wasn’t anything left in the house that marked his existence, at least not that she could reach. He nodded and went in the other direction, toward the study.

She found several bedrooms. The first appeared to be a nursery with a pair of cribs and a rocking chair by the window. Strangely, there weren’t any toys, nor the typical childish imagery of teddy bears or cartoon animals on the walls. Just the essentials and a few blankets. Even the walls were a sterile shade of ash gray and the only iconography she noticed upon close inspection was the rough reminisce of a sigil carved into the center railings of each crib.

The next couple rooms were nearly identical. Wire bunked beds with a small closet and desk. 

The following room was wildly different from the others. It had its own identity. The person that lived here was treated like a princess. Waking to images of powder pink and blue hydrangeas against a cream backdrop, in a four-poster bed, curtained by a trailing canopy of handstitched lace embroidery. It was enchanting to look at, but pretty soon she couldn’t ignore the peeling wallpaper or shifty floorboards beneath her feet. 

She treaded into the room across the hall. Fit with a massive sturdy bed, larger than a king with colonial influence in its crafting. She ran her hand down the bed post. When she looked up, she noticed that the headboard had another sigil, much like the one she saw in the nursery but larger and sharper. It must’ve been the coven crest of the Geminis. The main form was a triquetra Celtic knot and within the gaps were a pair of crescent moons, a full moon, stars, a pentagram, and a few other eerie symbols she didn’t recognize. It was ancestral, potentially crafted at the inception of the coven itself as she couldn’t compare it to anything she’d seen in a grimoire. 

She hurried away to find Kai on the other side, but something new caught her attention. Tucked away in the shadows was a door that appeared to be painted over. Though, a raw slab of wood unevenly mounted to the jamb by mismatched hinges hardly qualified as a door and nearly looked like an extension of the wall to the naked eye.

“Rose!” he called out to her. She deserted her side quest and hurried to join him. He was standing in what appeared to be the study with several shelves of grimoires, cases of herbs, and relics—none of which were the ascendant.

Rose crouched down as she noticed something shiny hiding beneath a mountain of books and documents. She set them aside, revealing an amber trunk with the crest molded onto tarnished gold. 

“It’s locked.” 

Kai started going through the drawers until he got his hands on a key. It was impressive how fast he found it. She didn’t have enough time to get up from the carpet before he joined her down on his haunches and turned the key until it released. 

Rose lifted the latch and reached inside. Her hand hit something cold and hard, nothing more than a stack of metal rounds, fit with gears, silver wing tips jutting out the sides, and a reflective crystal in the center. She’d thought it was junk pieces welded together but upon closer inspection, she realized that it was exactly what they’d been looking for. 

The ascendant, in all its glory. 

She struggled to match his pace through the spindly forest of firs, avoiding the underbrush she could hardly see.

“Here it is!” he gasped, overlooking a small hatch in the ground that opened to a ladder. 

“It’s getting dark, Kai. Why are we out here again?” she asked as she peered into the small space, robed in cobwebs and dusted with debris.

“I want to show you something. Go ahead.” He guided her in by the small of her back. “Watch your step.” he said as she found her footing. He hopped down after her.

Despite her reservations, she floated along with silent awe, tracing her fingers lazily along the granite walls that glistened in blinding hues of pearlescent blue and silver. She nearly ran into his back when he stopped and raised the ascendant toward the aperture above their heads. 

“This is perfect,” he voiced while peering up through the small arch that folded from the device. 

“Let me see..” 

Kai handed it over. The full moon gleamed luminously into the cavern, hanging overhead with a particular closeness that was both unusual, and completely breathtaking. Come eclipse night, it would be fully blacked out, shrouding everything around them in shades of gray.

“Be careful. It’s sensitive to your magic. It’ll fall apart if you use it wrong,” he warned.

“In that case, we could just put it back together—right?” she uttered, the tight confines of the narrow passage compressing on her lungs with each exhale.

“It’s possible, but not ideal. There’s like fifty gears and screws in this thing. We wouldn’t have it back together in time for the eclipse, which brings me back to: be careful.”

“I am being careful,” she protested, jerking it away from him when he reached for it. His breath audibly froze up in the back of his throat as it nearly collided with the cavern wall. She used both hands for stability as she lowered it slowly. He kept an overcautious eye on the device before locking on hers again. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“I’m not scared. Here—” She shoved it into grasp for him to put in his jacket pocket.  

“The view’s nice, huh?” His silky tone and lingering touch soothed the tension in her shoulders.

“Sure it is,” she said.

“I used to love coming down here as a kid. I found it once... on a walk.” 

The glow left its reflective luster all around them. It was enough to make her forget her frustration and fear of their circumstance. 

“Do you want to get topside and head back to the house? Dinner’s on me this time.” 

“Terrific.” 

It all bubbled to the surface as Kai topped her glass with Pinot Grigio. He insisted that she sit back, relax, and let him handle everything tonight, and she complied despite her growing desire to assist him— if only to be near him. She was sitting over by the counter and he was facing the stove, several feet away.

Sip after sip had her inhibitions waning until her eyes tracked down the length of his body, shamelessly sweeping over the contours of his back, the muscles corded with veins that bulged along his arms as he worked diligently with his hands. 

He poured some of the wine into the searing pan to deglaze after cooking the prawns, a technique he picked up from an artisanal cookbook. He brought the bottle to his pink lips before taking a generous sip. She swallowed at the lump in her throat, lips parting for hollow breaths.

“Do you mind shellfish?” he inquired, catching the way her unabashed staring turned into a scope of the tiled floors a second too late and she was hung out to dry beneath his cocky sneer.

“...I don’t mind,” she croaked.

“Taste this—” he said, bringing the wooden spoon to her lips. She sucked it clean of the sauce coating the top edge, unable to meet his gaze.

“That’s good..” she murmured as he returned to the pan to toss all of the ingredients in the sauce. A beurre blanc, he’d said, though he was saying it like “bur-blank sauce”, which wasn’t correct, but sounded cute the way he said it.

"No notes?" He asked. 

She shook her head. "No, it's really good."

"Thanks, Rosy."

“Rosy—why do you keep calling me that?” she asked, taking notice of how that'd been her name since they got here.

“You don’t like it?” 

“I dunno. I’ve never been called that before,” she replied. 

“Really?” he asked incredulously as he plated the meal with some steamed broccoli on the side. 

“It’s just Rose to most people.” 

“I like Rosy for you because sometimes your face gets all red. You’re kind of funny that way.” He set the plates on the table and joined her with a bottle of red wine to share between them. 

“I’m glad I amuse you,” she bit out. In her mind, she’d had a bit more tact than that, yet it was so apparent that he couldn’t help but take a dig at her reddening cheeks. A warm feeling dipped low in her core when she mulled over the way the name perfectly signified their growing familiarity with each other. She only wished she had a nickname for him—but what goes with Kai?

The onset of her buzz paired with the ease of talking to him meant that he’d spend the evening learning all about her life back in Mystic Falls: her family, friends, foes. 

Usually, Kai liked to do the talking, but he was quiet and attentive to her stories. Vampires and werewolves were one thing, but she’d walked amongst originals, hybrids, and immortals and yet was somehow alive to tell the tale. Her stories dove into their salacious love triangles that wrought nearly every supernatural happening in that town.

He finished eating early and popped a toothpick between his lips, twisting it with his finger for something to do while he listened, taking particular interest when she got to the part about a pair of twins she’d met from her sister’s college.

“Liv is in Bonnie’s occult studies, and she has a brother named Luke. They’re pretty powerful.” 

“Are they a part of a coven?” he asked, knowing the answer. He wanted to gauge how much she knew. 

“I don’t know. I’m not really sure what their story is. No one does. They just kind of showed up. It’s nice to deal with other witches though, others who get it.” 

“Very true...” he remarked absently, satisfied with her intel from the outside.

“What?” 

“In all that, I don’t think you ever told me anything about.. YOU.” 

“Oh, I thought I had.” She wrung her fingers, shrinking now under the spotlight of his attention. “What do you want to know?” 

“What do you do back home?” 

Pausing to find her words, she said, “well.. I graduated last year, and I’m still undecided. I could do the college thing like my sister, follow in the footsteps of our grandmother, but I don’t even know if I want to keep learning magic.”

“Why would you stop doing magic?”

“None of it ever made sense to me. You know, most of the people I told you about aren’t even my friends. They’re my sister’s friends. I never really found my place in the gang, and that’s fine because I’m new, but I swear some of them wrote me off so fast as if they didn’t think I’d survive this long—I found some people I really like—humans, like my friend Xander who got me a job at his uncle’s cafe. I like feeling normal because I'm good at it, but what sucks is that I can't share this part of my life with them and it will always be a part of me.” 

“That must feel isolating,” he whispered.

“It is. Ever since I found out about magic, I haven’t been able to figure out where I fit into everything.” 

“I get it.. in a way. I have 20 years of catching up to do once I get on the outside.” He cracked a lazy smile, hoping to ease her open.

“Well, you would love twitter,” she chuckled.

“What’s that?”

“It’s… hard to explain, but maybe once we're out, we can help each other figure things out.”

“I’d like that,” he said before the onset of a thought. “Hey—this Xander guy—are you two...?” His brow wiggled with silent implication.

“Wow, is that your subtle way of asking if I’m single?” she huffed. 

“Yes it is.” At least he was forthright. She had to give him that. 

“Xander is just a friend,” she replied.

“What a relief since you’ve been flirting with me this whole time.” He gave a wry smile.

“I was not flirting,” she scoffed, “If anyone’s been flirting, it’s you.”

“Weren’t you the one that asked me to sleep with you the other night?” 

She collected herself behind a pointed glare, “Weren’t you the one that woke up with your little friend poking my tush?” 

He nearly dropped his tooth pick, eyes blown wide. “It was morning wood, and it’s completely natural,” he croaked. She laughed as she remembered how quickly he shuffled away to the bathroom. She’d withheld her teasing as a courtesy, but now she let him have it. He glared until she calmed down. 

“Do you want to listen to music?” he asked, successfully changing the subject. They were finished eating, but the night was still young, and lilt with the promise of closeness she’d desired since it started.

The living room had an idle record player on the table. He unsheathed a vinyl he picked from the shelf and carefully set it on the turntable to play. With his hand encasing hers and the other on her waist he led their movements to the melody. One that she sort of recognized but couldn’t quite place until the chorus came around. 

“Kiss from a Rose!” She gasped, swatting at his chest, but he held steady with his hand on her lower back, “I hope you don’t think you’re getting lucky tonight.” 

“I mean, I did make you dinner.” 

“...don’t be a dog,” she chided half-heartedly as he spun her in a circle before pulling her back into his chest.

There is so much a man can tell you

So much he can say

You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain, baby

To me, you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny

The music seemed to fall away when they held each other like this. A mere breath between them when his neck craned to watch her eyes flit between his own. Only closing the distance on the lift of her arched feet. Noses brushed then lips, locking softly for a fleeting exchange before she retreated, resting her head on his shoulder while he warded off the urge to chase her mouth and indulge in her flavor. It wasn't enough to feel the thrum of her heart through her clothes, he wanted to run his teeth along her pulse point and hold her hips while he rocked her on his length greedily. Both hands roamed down her back, feeling her gasp and grasp him while they swayed in each other's arms

I've been kissed by a rose on the grey

Her voice resonated beyond the music, echoing the chorus sweetly. 

“Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey

Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah

Now that your rose is in bloom

A light hits the gloom on the grey..” 

It pulled the unfiltered words straight from the center of his chest. A paused in her voice on account of his low hiss, “There’s something you should know..” 

She pulled back and her brow knit together in deep confusion.

“I—I was forced to stay away from people for most of my life.” He swallowed thickly. “My father made me believe it would be safer that way—” he clipped his words. There’s no going back now. “I’m not like other witches. I wasn’t born with magic.”

“I don’t understand.” Rose thought all witches were born with magic. She wouldn’t even know that to call a witch without their own magic.

“I’m a siphon,” he confessed, anticipating her questions. “And according to my coven that makes me defective and dangerous. I can drain magic from the bodies of witches through touch alone and as a kid, I couldn’t control it.” 

“That’s not your fault.”

He raised a ghosting caress along her cheek. Though he’d learned the lesson of control many years ago, the impulses still naturally called out to him, especially when he was this close.

“I could touch you right now and suck every last bit of magic from your body, and if I’m honest, part of me wants to… doesn’t that scare you.”

“Not at all... do you want me to be afraid?” 

“That’s the last thing I want. But you deserve the truth. That’s the reason my coven sent me here.”

She enclosed part of his hand in her own.

“None of that changes anything,” she whispered, her tender words sweeping his skin.

A warmth blossomed in his chest and the more he sat with it, the more he feared what else would escape his trembling lips. He held her sensitive bleeding heart in the palm of his hand and that was enough. She’d be better off not knowing him for the monster he truly was. 

“I should get started on the dishes.”

“Let me help you—”

“That's alright.” His voice was small but definitive.

She skidded to a halt, feeling a swelling ache behind her ribs—regretting what she’d said or did, what she didn’t, and the way it repelled him, a stark contrast from the intimacy she’d felt moments before. The distance was a foreign concept to her now but she endured it. 

“I appreciate you letting me know... Goodnight,” she imparted softly, keeping her eyes on his back until he acknowledged her.

He returned a small smile over his shoulder that assured her enough that they were alright. 

“G’night,” he replied, watching until her footsteps retreated down the hall.

Taglist: @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake(comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future smut posts)

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose (Chapter V) - The Roadmap Through Memories

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, attempted murder, violence themes, mentions of blood, referenced self-harm, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, trauma, angst .

Series masterlist I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). WC: 1.1K

Rose took a short southbound detour to her hometown of Brooksbury, North Carolina. Opening the door and hopping out as soon as she parked in the front.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be long. Promise—”

Like muscle memory, she fiddled with the tricky latch on the front gate, already rusted from rain with hinges that screeched when she pulled it open. 

Kai tilted his chin in acknowledgement as he leaned against the car, watching her disappear into the little farm house.

She wanted to experience this place like how it was. When Matteo was still alive and the smell of fresh bread, from the baking they did at home or the leftover loaves he brought from work, that sweet yeasty scent with a malty earthiness, saturated every nook and cranny of their kitchen.

The far wall was where her father’s apron hung on the coat rack that Jamie made him in woodshop before time had a chance to dull the paint. The apron still held onto his scent, far before it would take on that odor of dust and mildew from sitting in a bin up in the attic long after the accident that claimed his life and put an end to this version of their home. 

There was a special spot on the wall where they kept their old photographs, a collage of memories they didn’t have the heart to bury away in a book and shove onto a dusty shelf to be forgotten about. In the middle was their family portrait of that year. Matteo was holding his infant daughter in his arms, his five-year-old son, Jamie was propped up on a stool and his wife, Abigail Bennett was by his side. Rose studied her mother’s face in the photo, so early in her secrecy, not long after leaving another family behind, another daughter in Mystic Falls. Bonnie. 

After facing down some of the most dangerous ancient evils, it made sense that Abby would want to flee somewhere quiet, safe, and free of magic, where she could start all over. But all that could never justify why she left Bonnie behind or why she lied to Matteo about everything. He was a compassionate and loving man, he would’ve understood. 

The day Bonnie showed up on their doorstep, her long lost sister was rightfully distrustful of Abby despite their mother’s expressed desire to heal their relationship, and Rose watched the entire exchange. It had been a heart-pounding evening for all three of them, but for Rose, her relationship with the woman she’d always known as her mother was forever changed by what she’d learned. 

When the door shut on Bonnie’s heels, Rose took her turn to confront Abby, releasing the torrent of questions and anger that’d been boiling over inside her the moment she found out the truth. 

“How could you—?” 

How could you lie about everything? Abandon your child? Bind her magic against her will? The questions bottlenecked in her throat as the words she did manage began to crack on shaky vocal cords from emotion.

Abby turned away to watch Bonnie’s car pull out of the driveway, a move Rose only found dismissive towards her, but perhaps it was Abby’s way of coping with the inescapable consequences of what she’d done all these years. Rose was stuck with the crumbs of a mother, scraping the bottom of the barrel for some shred of accountability. Rose bared her soul to the back of Abby’s head until her voice went hoarse.

“You’ve never been the perfect mom and I’ve never expected that from you, but this—you lied to me about everything. You lied to dad.”

“I LOVED your father... with every breath I had. He was the only person that ever saw me—that wanted nothing from me. He has nothing to do with this.” she snapped, raising her voice for the first time above a whisper.

“He has everything to do with it! He gave you everything and you couldn’t even give him honesty. And why not? Because you know that trust was everything to him and you're worse than a liar, you're a deadbeat.” 

“Rose, come on.” Jamie chimed in as tensions soared. She quieted down only to catch her breath. 

Everyone in that room knew she was right. Matteo left a flourishing career in music to raise Jamie as a single dad after his biological mother left them, working long, hard hours at the local bakery and buying this piece of land to support his family. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for them, and it turned out the love of his life was quite the opposite. She’d always kept some walls up, but once he was gone, any semblance of care went down in the coffin with him.

Abby’s eyes started to glisten, but she closed them tight, blinking away the tears and leaned down to rub at the blossoming ache in her right temple.

“Please, I’ve had enough for one night.” 

Her disingenuous plea struck Rose like a punch to the gut. She had no more words for the woman who couldn’t muster up a genuine apology. Even if she had, neither Rose nor Bonnie would’ve been in any hurry to forgive her but even as her lies crashed down around her, she still played the victim. 

Rose retreated and without another word turned her back in a similar vein to her sister moments before and completely gave up on Abby.

She wrenched herself away from the memories that stuck to this place like tar, threatening to drown her. What’s done is done. There was a raw reminder within the comfort of seeing her home the way it was when he was still living. 

One last time. 

On her way out, she spotted her father’s wedding ring on the ceramic plate by the sink. It wasn’t worth much in monetary value, just a silver plated band, already littered with little scuffs and ash marks from the bread ovens, but he’d cherished it as more than a symbol of his union with Abby, but his role as a father and husband. She could remember feeling the cool metal on her cheek or on the back of her ear when he’d caress her. She took it with her as a keepsake. A piece of him.

She rejoined Kai outside. 

“MY turn," he sang, dangling the keys at her.

He glanced over throughout the ride. She seemed aloof, quieter than usual as she curled into the window, fiddling with something deep in her pocket.

Taglist: @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake(comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future smut posts)

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose (Chapter IV) - Homesick

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, attempted murder, violence themes, mentions of blood, referenced self-harm, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, trauma, angst .

Series masterlist I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). WC: 1.3K

Kai brought out a map torn from a travel guide upon his proposal that they use Portland as a starting point for the locator spell. He knew it was the home of the Gemini coven, and they often kept valuables like the ascendant close by.

The prison world created duplicates of objects that existed when it was created, so logically, one version of the ascendant belonged to this world and the original was on the outside.

He took a dagger and dragged the jagged edge along his palm until enough blood beaded at the surface that it ran down the side of his hand and onto the map while Rose began the incantation.

“Phasmatos tTribum, Nas Ex-Verass, Sequitas Sanguinem...” 

His eyes darted across the page, patiently waiting for the location to reveal itself in crimson streaks as she chanted. 

“PhasMato—no no… wait—”

The candles remained unlit as opposed to igniting and flaring brightly as they would in proximity to active magic. 

Rose paused as if expecting something to happen on its own. 

Kai wrung his hands before proceeding delicately rather than letting stress chew off his fingernails, having yet to see her perform an actual spell. 

“How long have you been practicing magic?” 

“A couple years...” she perked up, “But I'm a lot better with herbology and charms—” 

“So, fake magic—like the stuff mortals can do?” he interrupted with a poorly concealed haughty snort. 

There wasn’t a peep out of her, no cheeky retort as he watched his words strike a deeper cord than he intended.

“Forget it. I just mean, potions are great. It’s fun to hang a bundle of lavender over the doorway, but to control currents of energy with your body. That’s the real magic.”

“You think I can do that?” she asked incredulously. She’d done spells like that with other witches, but never on her own, excluding the spell that brought her here, but frankly, she didn’t know what went wrong and lacked the confidence that she could repeat it.

She tucked her chin as if guarding herself, while hanging onto every word he said. 

“Sure, you just need to focus.” 

“Easier said than done,” she huffed out.

“Believe me, I grew up with tons of little brothers and sisters, all of them constantly yammering, but it taught me how. Let me help you.”

The stationary blood had been sitting so long on the map that it started to soak into the paper. Kai took hold of her wrists and placed them at either side of the table, hovering his hands above hers. 

“Clear your head and concentrate on an energy source. The candles, the wind—anything. You could even channel me. Just start again.” 

She took in all that he’d told her, moving to weave her fingers with his. His palms felt nice against her skin. 

Harnessing every sapling of her magic, she channeled his current of energy, identifying the source, just behind his sternum, gathering with each renewing breath. His flow and her draw more rhythmic as she began to chant again.

The candle wicks would spark and flames stretch high into the air, blending together in a low roar.

The crimson droplets began to twitch before they conjoined into one surging arrow going toward the location on the map. 

Every hair on his body stood on end as Kai realized she’d opened a channel directly between them. He didn’t want to be a distraction, so he remained steadfast, letting her channel his energy. The magic beneath her velvety skin was clawing out at him, drawing him in just to push him back out on the current she maintained. He’d be more impressed by her control if he wasn’t so focused on keeping his. 

The blood trail snapped to a halt as she opened her eyes and everything around them settled to a calm hush.

“Oh. My. God… It worked.” She ogled at the map as if her eyes couldn’t be trusted.

He pulled away and tucked his trembling hands beneath the table. 

Not before long, they had the car loaded up with a few hastily packed bags of essentials and got on the road to Portland. It was nearly a cross country trip that would take them an estimated 48 hours of driving to arrive by the third night even with perpetually empty roads, factoring in at least one overnight stop for some proper rest.

Kai moved to get behind the wheel, but Rose slid her foot between him and the door before he could. 

“Do you think I could take the first shift? I just want to make a short stop on the way,” she asked.

“Sure.” He handed over the keys and went to the passenger’s side where he would handle the directions. Kai grew bored of the radio a short way into the ride and decided to lower the volume and strike up a conversation.

“You never told me your story. How you ended up here?” 

Rose hummed as she found a way to begin.

“Have you ever heard of the Other Side?” 

“That’s only like Occult 101...” He chuckled. 

“Right—well, my sister, Bonnie became the anchor... and I did this spell... I’m not really sure what I was doing—I never meant to end up here, just to separate her from the Other Side, and I thought that’s all it would do, but I must’ve misunderstood.”

She took a breath in between, trying to curb her emotions because once she got started, it was difficult to turn it off.

“Ever since I ended up here, I’ve been trying to get back to her. I can only imagine how she must be feeling, probably thinks I’m dead-- Oh god, I hope she didn’t tell Jamie...” 

He studied the heavy frown that weighed down her delicate features when she thought about her family. 

Siblings only shared blood, and in Rose’s case, they shared only half of that, let alone the fact they didn’t even know the other existed for most of their lives. 

His contempt for his own siblings, even his twin, who’d shared a home with him even before birth made the idea of admiring a family member that much ridiculous to him to say the least, repulsively cloying at worst.

“We’re going to get you back home, you know that,” he assured her.

“I know..” Her eyes burned. “I just wish I’d thanked her for everything she’s done for me and apologized for messing up again.” She took a moment to still the pounding of her heart before continuing. “Before you showed up, I was so lonely that there was a moment that I’d be happy to see anybody.. even my mother..” she muttered the word in disgust and for the first time Kai recognized the shadow of his own inner child reflected in her darkening countenance.

“Were you close with your mother?” She turned the question to him, picking up on his shift when the word was uttered. "I've been talking too much about my problems."

“Oh, sure. My mom was great.. so gentle she wouldn't hurt a fly.” 

Throughout his vivid memories of Joshua’s authoritarian regime, the way he made the home into a maximum security prison for his eldest son before he’d banished him. Her worst crime was obeying her husband, never scooping Kai up in her arms to kiss away his tears during his colic, too busy chasing after the other children Joshua kept impregnating her with until they had the perfect set of twins—no defects. Joshua made her too afraid to love Kai in the open, horrified of his wrath if she were caught breaking his rules or of Kai’s defective nature harming her other ‘normal’ children. She never risked it. However rare, some part of him clung onto the memories of the times when Joshua was away, when she’d bring him up his dinner while it was still warm or take care to stitch his worn clothes while doing his laundry.

He put it out of his mind, wanting to inquire more about Rose’s mother, her history, tempted to dig deeper until he hit that sweet spot and found something of potential use to him. He was about to open his mouth when the words he read on the signs going by appeared unfamiliar. “Where are we going?” he asked.

She gripped the steering wheel in her hands as if holding onto a tangible memory he brought to mind with his question.

“My home.”

Taglist: @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake(comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future smut posts)

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose (Chapter III) - Kai Parker Saved Us

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, attempted murder, violence themes, mentions of blood, referenced self-harm, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, trauma, angst .

Series masterlist I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). WC: 850

“So, is Kai short for something?” She asked intuitively as he walked her back to her place.

Kai offered to push the cart himself the few blocks from the house, especially since he loaded it up with several bags of chips, Poptarts, sour keys, and candy bars.

“Malachai,” he replied with a reluctant sigh.

“Malachai...” she gave it a whirl.

“But I prefer Kai,” he tagged on quickly, not wanting her to get too familiar with the feel of the name his father gave him on her tongue. It was a label of ridicule and shame so he rejected it anyway.

“What about you? Rose is short for—what? Rosemary or… oh, don’t tell me—Rosalie?” he hurriedly guessed with the snap of his fingers.

"You’re close, it’s Rosalina, but I prefer Rose,” she replied.

When they arrived at her house, he insisted he help her put away the groceries.

“What is this place exactly?” she inquired.

“One of many prison worlds created by the Gemini coven. Anyone who opposes them is given their own personal hell dimension, and I got mine for my 22nd birthday... lucky me...” he snorted bitterly.

“Why?” It struck her as odd that a coven would make a deserter their own prison rather than just kill them, not that she would’ve preferred it that way. In fact, she was thankful they hadn’t, but she asked for curiosity’s sake.

“Most of it’s just coven politics—what you know and who you know, ya’ know. Long story short, they wanted me gone, so they sent me here. There wasn’t really a trial or paperwork or anything...” He watched her process the words he was saying, the pity washing over her face.

“Magic can be so cruel sometimes,” her voice trailed off as if it just dawned on her that it could be anything other than a miracle, as if she hadn’t seen for herself how its price was almost always paid with the blood of the people who mattered most.

“True, but it can also be the answer to your problems. It brought you here, didn’t it,” he nudged her loose, “Come on, don’t tell me you’re ready to just give up on magic already.”

“No... I just.. don’t understand how my magic factors into all this.”

“Listen, prison worlds are only created and manipulated by Bennett Blood. There’s this thing called the ascendant. It's like a backdoor. It channels direct energy from a celestial event and your blood magic unlocks it and creates this portal straight out of here,” he explained with animated delight.

“So... you need me to do the spell?”

Kai gave an affirming nod.

“I’m also going to need you to do the locator spell to find it,” he watched her drink in his deceit, “I would, but without my magic, I haven’t been able to.”

“Okay so, there’s me, the ascendant... We’re only missing the celestial event.”

“Right! We have to wait for the eclipse. Time works differently around here. It took me a while to figure it out. The month of may repeats itself on a cycle, starting with May 10th. Every third time it comes around, the eclipse happens—must be another trick from the coven to deter any escapes.”

She recalled the darkened moon on the first night she arrived three weeks ago.

"That means we still have two months to wait,” she groaned.

“Onnnn the bright side, we have plenty of time to find the ascendant,” he noted with an optimistic air and grin that showed all of his pearly whites. It astonished her how he managed to be so upbeat after being trapped on his own for nearly two decades. It put her experience to shame.

Kai leaned forward on the counter, his eyes dancing between her own in a way that felt markedly intimate for the first time as he watched warmth spread across her cheeks,

“I think this is the start of an important partnership.”

He held out his hand like a professional closing out a deal.

“Friendship,” she corrected as she shook his hand.

“That too.”

“I’m making stuffed chicken for dinner. You’re welcome to stay if you want.” Her eyes were inviting him, almost pleading with him to stay.

“You just met me and you’re asking me to stay for dinner?”

“Yeah... What’s wrong with that?” she asked.

“For all you know, I could be a serial killer.”

A smirk fastened the corners of his lips as he watched her put her head down and snicker.

“You’re too charming to be a serial killer,” she said.

“Ted Bundy was extremely charming, they say,” he replied.

“Are you staying or not? Because I need to know if I’m preparing one chicken breast or two.”

“Oh, alright. How can I say no to stuffed chicken?” Kai relented with a half-hearted sigh and made himself comfortable.

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[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose (Chapter II) - Mystic Falls circa 1994

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, attempted murder, violence themes, mentions of blood, referenced self-harm, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, trauma, stealing angst .

Series masterlist I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). WC: 2.9K

The glaring light subsided and the wind settled around her to a calm hush when Rose finally pulled her hands free from her face and lazily took in her surroundings. She appeared to be standing in the same exact spot as before. The only difference being the sudden absence of her sister and the others...

Welcome to Mystic Falls. 

She noted an odd feeling that took hold as she walked by the visitors welcome sign on her way into town. It felt stranger to her now than it had when she first moved several years ago.

On her way to the house, the town square, the usually bustling epicenter of Mystic Falls, with its shopping plaza, police station, and clock tower, was noticeably deserted.

“Bonnie!” She called out to no reply when she returned to their home. 

“Bon-” She repeated, her words catching at the sight of her sister’s bedroom. 

It was completely different. The walls were lacquered with a bright lilac paint and flower decals were stuck everywhere. There was a tiny twin sized bed with a fuzzy teddy bear on her pillow. Rose picked up the bear, reading the name sprawled on the tag in dark sharpie marker. 

Ms. Cuddles. Bonnie’s stuffed bear. 

When she’d moved in, Rose was a bit embarrassed about her stuffed animal collection, massive enough to take up an entire moving box when packed air tight. To make her feel better, Bonnie admitted to carrying around a fuzzy stuffed bear in her sports bag for luck during Nationals up until she left it on a bus in 9th grade.

The questions only started mounting when she went into her own room, still calling out to an empty void. 

None of her belongings were there. Instead, everything belonged to their late grandmother as if she were still living. Her vanity was littered with old family photographs, including a sepia toned photo of a man who seemed to be Sheila’s late husband with their young daughter Abigail on his lap.

Another that caught her eye was little Bonnie’s party. She was blowing out her 3rd birthday candles, surrounded by their preschool class, with Elena, and Caroline at the front and a few other painted-faced toddlers that looked familiar to her. A tiger with blue frosting on his nose may have been Matt. This was Bonnie's first birthday after Abby had left and it seemed her father, Rudy, wasn't in the picture either. She recalled how Bonnie told her that Grams did everything to make her feel special on those days, so she wouldn’t feel like anything was missing.

Rose never had a chance to meet Sheila. She’d died a year before she even knew anything about her mom’s side. Sometimes she was envious of Bonnie for getting to know her and learn from her, but then she imagined the heartache Bonnie must've felt when Grams passed and then to be left on her own. 

Rose too had lost someone close to her. Her father, Matteo, passed away several years prior in an accident. If Abby had been a vampire then, she would’ve turned it off after losing her husband, but she came as close as a mortal could and buried herself in the work of running their small family farm so she wouldn’t have to deal with the grief.

Despite everything, Rose had her big brother, Jamie who always looked out for her, picking her up from school when Abby forgot, showing up to her showcases when she still danced and teaching her to drive stick in his truck when she got her permit.

Rose couldn’t imagine coming home to an empty house day in and day out and having no one to lean on.

When Bonnie showed up with Elena out of the blue and the truth came out, the fact that their mother had lived a double life all of that time only served to drive the wedge between the mother and daughter impossibly wider, evident in the fights they had in the weeks before Abby left. 

Rose thought it easy for Abby to run because that’s what she always did. One way or another, she’d abandon the people closest to her, and her fledgling vampirism was only her latest of excuses.

Abigail Bennett was a runner, and when Rose realized that, she vowed to herself that she’d never be like her mother and abandon the people that mattered the most.

She’d find a way back to her sister.

Her muscles became rigid when she failed to find anyone at the Salvatore boarding house. Then on the way to Caroline’s she passed the Gilbert home, which was still standing as if it had never been burned down. 

Nothing was adding up.

She covered the entire area of town, moving through the stringy grass of nearby wet lands, and cutting across the old cemetery before slowly coming to the high school. It looked much the same from the outside, but the words plastered on the message board out front caught her eye in all its white lettering glory..

ANNOUNCEMENTS: Sadie Hawkins Dance, May 10th, 1994.

It appeared out of nowhere. All at once and without a reason.

His senses keened in on the flavor saturating the crisp air when it blew from the east, live with foreign magic. 

His otherwise empty prison world had been unchanged for nearly two decades, allowing him to develop a routine to retain a sense of normalcy as he grew resigned to spend the rest of his existence nursing a worsening ache for magic day by day in this hellish loop of his coven’s creation. 

They weren’t going to set him free, and even if they did, releasing him would be a fatal mistake. He'd grown more calculated and resourceful with time, only honing his skills over the years in isolation.

The very thought made him bristle with anticipation, imagining his fingers digging into the hollows of his father’s jaw as he siphons every last drop of magic from his withering husk, imparting him with his final soliloquy of retribution. 

Ignis Incendia

One spell, and it would all go up in flames, the family home crumbling into tattered ruins, releasing the ghosts of its horrors into the air like billowing torrents of smoke.

 And all of them along with it.

He followed the magic like a beacon, tracking his prey all the way to the cozy southern town of Mystic Falls, Virginia. He parked on the outskirts of town to avoid informing them of his presence just yet, continuing on foot. 

By midnight, he was standing at the doorstep, feeling the magic stronger than ever on the other side. 

Not wanting to get ahead of himself, he had the sense that she was a Bennett witch and that made him all but salivate. 

He’d only been around one before—the one that helped his coven put him away with her magic. However fleeting the moment, it allowed him to grow familiar with the presence of Bennett magic—its unique signature. 

She could free him and this realization marked the inception of hope that he could expect to be home in time for the merge and take back what’s owed to him. 

His only chance at real power and freedom from his coven’s control.

He took his time, thought of a plan and sat back to observe his clueless little bird in her gilded cage. Initially from afar, following her around town while she ran errands. But he soon moved in closer, making a copy of the house key and sneaking inside to go through her belongings. 

All the while, she sang along to the music on her CD player in the shower. Either it provided optimal acoustics or he found himself genuinely enjoying the sound of her voice, her honeyed melodies slowly encroaching on his ire.

Once he realized she had nothing of real interest to him besides a small leather journal where she’d written all the things about her he'd already observed for himself, he returned it to her desk and slithered into the bathroom, the music and running water shrouding his footsteps. Her old clothes were in a pile down by his sneakers, a set of black panties crumpled up in the center. 

He crouched down and lifted them up, rubbing his thumb along the thickest part of the material methodically before raising it to his face. When the water switched off, he quickly balled them up and shoved them in his back pocket before slipping out as if he was never there.

While at the store, he decided to leave her a gift. 

He got a little white lamb from a barrel of stuffed animals and dropped it in her cart while she wasn’t paying attention. 

She didn't seem to notice until she got back to the house. While unloading her groceries, she came upon the soft cottony plush smooshed under a bag of rice, its sweet little smile stitched in with black yarn and fit with glossy button eyes. 

She held it still, contemplating if she’d grabbed it or not. It didn’t trouble her long as the sizzling of the pasta water boiling over interrupted her train of thought. 

After forcing down some food and sealing away the leftovers in the fridge, she started cleaning the dishes when her shoulders caved in, fingers gripping the edge with whitening knuckles.

The unnatural silence swallowed up her weak cries, only worsening her ache. 

Her little lamb flopped over on its side, letting out a low Pmph that quieted her as she lifted it from the counter to bring it into her trembling chest. 

She abandoned her task of cleaning for the morning and went down the hall to her bed to turn in for the night. 

He knew that he could end her suffering right then and there, reveal himself, offer her a glimmer of hope she so desperately needed of escaping this nightmare, but there was a twisted pleasure in watching her spirit be crushed more and more each day.

She was like the little lamb that she toted around, vulnerable, naive, and so fragile he could just rip her apart and pull out all of her stuffing. 

His mind toyed with the idea of being the cause of those pathetic tears on her pillow, whether or not she would be a screamer. 

That wasn’t part of his carefully formulated plan, of course, just a little musing of his. He wouldn’t harm a honey brown hair on her head, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring him a twinge of pleasure when he thought about it.

He watched her try to light the fireplace on a particularly chilling night when she couldn’t get warm. She became frustrated when she couldn’t manage to perform the simple spell and decided to get it going with a match and a steel poker to stir the kindling.

The sight concerned him nearly enough to doubt his own magic meter, but he was too arrogant. It’s all he did, hunt magic and suck it up from witches like her. 

She was sleeping on the loveseat in front of the fireplace so he took care to keep his footsteps short and lithe as not to awaken her. He rested on his haunches, leaning over to get a good look. 

She slept with a peace he’d never known for himself, with the belief that nothing bad could ever happen to her despite everything.

Her body was just barely concealed by the near translucent sheet pulled from her bedroom. A fresh sheen of sweat sealing her nightgown to her skin, the thin material dimpled at her navel. His eyes tracked the hem bunched up along her thighs until she rolled over in her sleep, startling him backwards until he caught himself on his heels without making any noise. 

He clicked his tongue softly at the pitiful girl and moved to put out the fireplace. 

He’d watched her for weeks at this point, as she tore through every book she owned looking for answers that weren’t there, viewing her spiral under a taste of the hopelessness that shaped his cruel reality. 

Now, he had someone to share it with.

She stirred up from her sleep, waking in a puddle of cold sweat before heading over to the window. She couldn’t remember leaving it open but in that moment, appreciated the cooling breeze along her face and neck. Just out of sight, his back was pressed flat along the facade of the house. 

He could reach out and touch her face if he wanted to.

Her hips swayed to the music as she rounded the corner, pushing her cart of groceries with one hand while singing along to the chorus of ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ on her Walkman clipped to the waistband of her sweats.

He watched her. This time out in the open, sitting on a fold-up lawn chair in the wide center aisle of the grocery store. 

He reclined back, casually munching down a bag of pork rinds as he waited for her to acknowledge his presence, smiling to himself wickedly, while wondering how she managed to survive this long with such horrible situational awareness. 

She was in the next aisle over, working through a toss up between the box of Count Chocula or Honey Smacks before remembering it wouldn’t burden her wallet and opted to throw them both in the cart. 

It wasn't until she turned into the next aisle that their eyes met. 

“—with somebody who loves me—” Her breath hitched, stopping the notes dead in her throat as she paused the tape and slowly pulled the headphones from her ears to get a better look.

He mustered his most inviting smile and offered a gentle wave that he hoped put her at ease. 

She approached him, abandoning her cart. Her features opened in disbelief, as hesitation marked her woody footsteps.

The sight of another person was both the answer to her prayers and a bit disconcerting. After all this time, it didn’t feel real. The stranger had a mess of spiky raven hair slightly tousled on his head and heavy boots that looked like they’d seen actual combat where he propped them up on the nearby end table.

She took in the way his face had a pleasant balance of soft and sharp features that made him look both cute and slightly impish.

His steely blues as they swept her body conveyed a hint of mischief that she couldn't afford to overlook.

“Were you watching me the entire time?”

“Yeah, kind of. I didn’t want to interrupt. You have a really nice voice, by the way.” 

The rush of heat to her ears and face nearly made her lightheaded, undermining any attempt to keep a staunch exterior just in case he were sizing her up for something. She still didn’t know what to expect. 

“Who are you?” she asked the first of many questions clamoring inside her head.

“Sorry, manners. I’m Kai. Nice to meet you. Pork rind?” He tilted his bag toward her while chewing the chip he’d popped into his mouth. 

“No, no thanks.” 

He shrugged and set the bag aside, dusting away the crumbs from his hands and rising from his chair. Her eyes fixedly followed his ascent, having to crane her neck to hold his gaze. 

“And you are?” he pressed politely. 

The scent of his cologne fogged over her senses, striking sweet and earthy notes that grounded her, reminding her of home.

“I’m Rose. Sorry, I haven’t spoken to another person in a while. I promise I’m not normally this impolite…” she started to feel a little foolish.

“Can’t be any worse than me,” he replied, “I’ve been here a while."

“How long?” 

“18 years... Give or take.” 

“Are you telling me there’s no one else here?”

He nodded slowly and frowned with his bottom lip.

“What is this place?” 

“You ask a lot of questions,” he noted as he turned away and gave his attention to the nearby rack of potato chips as she trailed him. 

“Do you like Pringles? I can’t decide between the BBQ or the plain—maybe I should just grab the muddy buddies—”

“Hey! Can you please tell me what’s going on?” She pleaded, moving between him and the shelf of snack foods. “I just want to go home—”

“That’s impossible,” he stated with blithe finality.

“Impossible...” she repeated in confusion.

“We’re trapped here forever... unless you happen to be a Bennett witch,” he hummed at the end, painfully resigned to his circumstance.

There was a still silence yet it was hard to hear anything over the reverberating pulse between her ears. Just as she felt him casually dash her dreams to pieces, it finally registered to her beyond the pause.

“What.. ?” 

“I’m just saying, you’d have to have Bennett magic for us to have any chance of getting out of here, but the way I see it, you’re probably not even a witch let alone have any idea about—”

“I AM!” She blurted in his face.

He lit up with an optimism that seemed to reset his features from their cynical mold. He leveled her a critical glance before his lips would curve into a coy smile.

“If you’re a Bennett witch how’d you get stuck in a place like this?” 

The memories of everything that saw her to this point weighed heavy like a boulder that threatened to crush her from the inside until she finally unburdened herself with a sharp exhale.

“It’s a long story.”

Taglist: @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake(comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future smut posts)

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose (Chapter I) - Bennetts Caught in the Balance

Content Warnings/tags: DUB-CON, CNC, Non-consensual touching, toxic dom/sub dynamics, manipulation, attempted murder, violence themes, mentions of blood, referenced self-harm, stalking, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, size kink, age gap relationship, magic edging, innocence kink, trauma, angst.

Series masterlist I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s). WC: 1.6K

Everything moved with a haunting, aching slowness as if shrouded in a dreamlike haze.

Expectations of chirping grasshoppers native to the tall blades of southern switchgrass around the local marsh were met with a dead silence that fostered a sense of emptiness inside her.

It threatened to swallow her whole.

Acceptance washed over her like complete darkness from the moon eclipsing the sun from above as minutes turned into hours and morning fog swept across her surroundings. 

She wrung her bracelet around her wrist, laden with homemade charms, tiny vials of herbs and crystals she always kept on her for protection as she'd need it now more than ever. 

For the first time, she completely was on her own...

Bonnie returned home from Whitmore College earlier than expected. Rose tried to have things tidied up before she arrived, ashamed of the disarray of her patterns and scrap fabrics being left out on the kitchen table where she did her sewing. She also liked to cook a meal for them to share, since Bonnie was usually tired of takeout and dining hall meals from living in the dorm. 

When Bonnie walked through the door, Rose knew it wasn’t a typical visit. She could tell by the deepening worry lines on her face that this was one of those life or death scenarios that commonly accompanied Bonnie, Rose and their myriad of friends in Mystic Falls. The only question was: Who’s life was on the line this time? She followed along as Bonnie explained that Stefan, Alaric, Tyler, and Damon managed to find themselves trapped on the Other Side as the realm was crumbling into oblivion. Bonnie was going to use her power as the anchor to pull them back while Liv performed a resurrection spell and the others arranged a strategic attack on the travelers. 

It occurred to her then that Bonnie’s life was still linked to the Other Side even without Bonnie mentioning it.

How could she forget?

The only way they were able to bring her back in the first place was as the anchor to the supernatural realm and now her second chance at life was being ripped away along with it.

Rose had been paralyzed by the grief of losing the sister she’d only come to know in the past three years since they met and started studying and training in witchcraft alongside each other. They moved in together after their mother was turned and took off to "figure things out", but not before offering her parting advice.

“Stick together. You’ll need each other to survive everything that comes along with being a Bennett witch.” 

Though neither would admit it to her face, they both took Abby's message to heart. Bonnie was grateful to have another person to share that house with since Grams died, and Rose, in turn, was eager to connect with the Bennett side her family. Her half sister.

Bonnie taught her everything she’d come to know. Even so, Rose’s fledgling powers proved challenging for her since having her magic unbounded by their mother. She dove headfirst into learning the ancient incantations in the grimoires to catch up with Bonnie but she found more success honing her magical competence through channeling nature in their garden or creating different charms and potions for luck or safety that she’d make into jewelry, bake into food, or burn like incense around the house. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t the same, and she wanted more than anything to be a witch that people could count on.

“You’re still linked to the Other Side..”

“Rose-” 

“Did you even think about that?”

“Of course I did!”

Bonnie gave a resigned sigh and pulled her into an embrace. 

“It’s okay,” Bonnie whispered, “It’s going to be okay.” The slight waiver in her voice gave way to her thinly veiled uncertainty. 

“If you already made up your mind, why come here and tell me at all?” 

Bonnie heaved a sigh, “Because I didn’t want to leave you high and dry again. I wanted to give you a heads up about what’s going to happen.” 

Rose frowned, recalling the agonizing memory of finding out Bonnie had been a ghost on the Other Side all summer.

Bonnie kept it a secret from everyone, even her. which at the time hadn’t been out of the ordinary considering her recent immersion into the dark magic of expression. That’d been a controversial topic in their home, only because Rose hated seeing what expression and Professor Shane were doing to her and Bonnie never wanted to talk about it.

Once she wrenched the truth of Bonnie’s death from Jeremy, she put aside any differences they’d had at the time and went through everything that they left her to try and bring her back. Of course, it was the anchor spell that ultimately resurrected her, but now it seemed even that wasn’t enough.

Rose was a statue in Bonnie’s arms, because she knew deep down that holding her tight would ultimately make it harder to let go. Surrendering to the heartbreaking goodbye was something she simply refused to do.

She managed to keep it together until Bonnie left. She took her feelings in stride and headed straight into their grandmother’s home study. 

Rose still had time and if Bonnie couldn’t fight for her own life, she had the resources right here to figure something out.

Their matriarch, the late Sheila Bennett left them a collection of ancient grimoires, texts and mystical items that had been family heirlooms or accumulated over her lifetime as a practicing witch and occult studies professor.

Perhaps it was general naivety but ever since she found out she was a witch, Rose never lost her idealistic view of magic and its potential for good. Bonnie seemed more disillusioned, aware of the push and pull of magic, the ultimate cost that accompanied every spell to satisfy the balance of nature. Rose found herself hoping, now more than ever, that she could find a loophole or solution to the problem they faced now. They were good witches, good people that always put others before themselves so the balance of nature had to consider their karmic debt, she thought.

Rose cracked open book after book from the shelf, stacking them on the desk in front of her as she skimmed through, looking for something of use. Though she was still struggled with her understanding of the language despite her bilingual fluency in English and Spanish. When pressed on this matter, she liked to say that she spoke modern languages and the archaic Latin-derived script of these grimoires was foreign to her. In any case, she used context clues from the words she could identify and the images on the worn pages. Stray sheets fell out onto the floor in the chaotic bustle.

She pulled one last book from the shelf, not noticing a page sticking out along the edge and ended up slicking her thumb on the sharp corner in her hurry. The cut burned and she didn't have time to stop the bleeding as urgency gathered into a ball of tension behind her sternum.

She doubted if she could find a solution in half an hour when last year she failed to do it in 3 months.

The weight of the last book rattled the desk so hard that the book tower toppled over onto the floor, causing a chain reaction of collapse.

Before she let out a frustrated groan, her eye came across a small scroll that flopped down onto the center of the desk, littered with a light film of dust she brushed off. She didn’t even know it was back there. 

Her eyes skimmed over the text and she quickly formed a plan.

After pulling the last of her friends to the safety of the living world, Bonnie didn’t know what to expect as she stared down the foreboding light. After dying the first time, she’d been trapped on the Other Side as a ghost for several months. The ability to be there in spirit to watch over her friends and family offered her some consolation within the ordeal but now she was anticipating uncharted territory, and for the first time, she’d be truly gone.

Despite her brave face, it was terrifying. She could only hope that the next few moments would find her reunited with her grams and father in peace. That thought calmed the trembled in her hands as she glanced back at her friends, gathered to watch her departure at the outskirts of the town. At least this time they got to say goodbye. Bonnie regretted that her sister wasn’t amongst them to see her off but understood that Rose couldn’t handle the sight of losing her again. 

The town’s favorite witch shut her eyes and took a deep breath, embracing the brightness reflecting off her face. Not a moment later, the wind had stilled as the lights dimmed beyond her eyelids and she felt the burden of this realm lifted from her shoulders.

“Gramsss...” she whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and to find Rose standing a few feet away from her. Confusion gripped her chest and the mere touch of her hand confirmed Bonnie's worst fears. 

“It worked! You’re actually gonna be okay—what's wrong?”

Her smile faltered as she met her older sister’s grim gaze.

“Rose, What. Did. You. Do?” Bonnie uttered.

Rose felt the wind of the collapsing dimension whipping the curls off her face and flinched from the approaching brightness. 

Rose returned to Bonnie, panic lancing through her as she held her tight. 

“Bonnie!”

“I’m here.” She interlaced her fingers with hers, holding on for dear life. “I’m right here..” 

“Bonnie, I-” 

Her unfinished words hung in the air, cut short when the light closed in and consumed her all at once, leaving Bonnie’s hands empty. 

“Rose!”

Taglist: @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake (comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future smut posts)

[dear-mybeloved-deactivated20251]

Me thinking that I'm funny was probably the first problem

[chronic-escapixt]

My fyp getting too personal..

[chronic-escapixt]

Hi gurl, just wanted to say that I LOVE your work and that you’re 100% the best dark fiction writer I ever read. Kudos

Thanks 😊. I’ve been working on editing some drafts lately so I should be posting again soon. It’s been a while.. I don’t always have confidence in my writing so i rlly appreciate that you like my work.

[chronic-escapixt]

I don’t think Kai Parker is a sociopath..

<< btw, im not shaming anyone that feels this way or identifies with his representation of antisocial personality disorder. My opinion is formed by how i engage with the media and read between the lines in my way. And i think this is one of those things we can interpret in different ways. >>

I think Kai could always feel a wide range of emotions but repressed them due to the trauma of isolation and abuse.

The look on his face when his coven banishes him is unique in how you see the realization cross his mind that they’re really going through with it. Despite everything they’ve done before, he realizes this level of harm wasn't off limits for them.

Maybe im projecting, but as the designated scapegoat of my family, i recognize the role of narratives and demonizing labels in shaping someone. “Sociopath” is a word to describe him much like “defective, black sheep, abomination”. The audience is exposed to these labels through Kai's descriptions of himself. He internalized them. Often times, they have pathologies projected onto them by the people around them and when it starts young they grow accordingly. It’s easy to think you’re a sociopath when everyone parrots it and the divorcing of one from their emotions functions as a coping mechanism for the trauma.

Also, the Parker family strikes me as traditional and private to anyone outside of the coven. I doubt they would send their problem child to a psychiatrist for a professional diagnosis. And even if they did, in many toxic family dynamics, most scapegoats are forced into a misdiagnosis for further abuse justification or control. For example, #freebritney.

Kai is a reflection of those labels that shaped him since birth.

[klonnieshippersclub]

Kat Graham believes systemic racism is why Bamon never happened. She is correct.

I saw some of my mutuals and fellow Bonnie fans discuss this video and felt prompted to share this. This panel was on March 15th, 2025. Kat believes Enzo was only chosen for Bonnie because he was not as popular as Damon was (applies for Jeremy as well.) While this conversation is about Bamon this heavily implies her feelings towards Bonnie's other romantic pairings that Kat was interested in that were pitched by her male peers.

Klaus loved witches and Greta Martin was devoted to him (the relationship was sexual) Joseph was aware of Klaus attraction/circle of witches and wanted to work with Kat more than what he gotten. Bonnie was vulnerable from the issues with her friends and parents. Klonnie was pitched and would have made sense with the storylines. Klaus attraction and kinship to witches was retconned and ignored. All done to avoid having Bonnie be with a popular character while using those racist motivations in creating that other Klaus ship that became popular in season 3.

The sad truth is Bonnie was never going to get "the guy" or "the girl" because of racism. Those dynamics and relationships for Bonnie was never going to work not because of who Bonnie was or who the other partner was. But, because of Hollywood/TVD's writing room (Julie, Dries, etc..)weren't going to allow them to work for her. Those writers made exceptions for everyone but couldn't with Bonnie or Kat.

[chronic-escapixt]

I love that Kat finally feels comfortable and secure within her circle of supporters and the media to tell her truth. I feel like its been hinted at for years by her and the fandom has thoroughly discussed and identified the clear racism against kat and subsequently bonnie over the years. Usually black performers have to mince words or dsncing around the topic of racism that affects them to avoid offending people and protect their carreer, so im fully here for her tts era. Tell it all mama!

[klonnieshippersclub]

Klonnie Weekend 2025 | Spring Fling

Hi Klonnie friends!

Just sharing a reminder for what’s to come soon! Join us all for Klonnie Week 2025 Spring Fling Edition! From May 2nd-May 5th each day, we'll be celebrating some of your favorite romcom tropes! Bring the tension, drama and chemistry!

Here’s the upcoming dates and prompts:

May 2nd: Forced Proximity (How did they get stuck and why?!)

May 3rd: Fake Dating (How does one not fall in love here?)

May 4th: Arranged Marriage (Who falls first and who falls harder?)

May 5th: Matchmaker (Who pushes these love birds together?)

Everyone is welcome to participate! Bring gifs, metas, writing, creating collages, and if you just want to like or reblog posts that’s great too!

Tag all creations with Klonnieweek2025 so the entire fandom can see and celebrate! Special thanks for helping create and brainstorm ideas to @24kmagiic @mikaelsonstanaccount @mythorhuman and @cancerian-woman

[soymalakai-deactivated20260424]

If you’re under the age of 18, unfollow me right now!!!! You’re not welcome here. I don’t care if you’re 17.5 or if you’re turning 18 this week or tomorrow. This blog is strictly 18+!!!!

This also applies to blogs that don’t have their age listed anywhere on their blogs. No, I don’t care about your excuses for not having your age on your blog. No one is asking for your exact age. It’s not hard to put "in my 20s," etc.

[chronic-escapixt]

Hey 💌 I’m Saja — a mother trying to hold onto hope through days that feel impossibly heavy.

I know you probably see a lot online, but if you could take just a moment… I’d be so grateful.

💫 A reblog of my pinned post could help our story reach someone who cares.

🌿 And if you’re in a place to give, even a small donation could bring comfort to my daughter and help us feel safe again.

@sajagz, thank you for listening.

Even gentle support creates strength.

From one heart to another — thank you 🤍

I’m sorry to hear about what you’re going through. My heart is with you all in Palestine. Free Palestine 🙏🏽❤️❤️

[chronic-escapixt]

i had plans to write this week... but i think im on my third depression spiral of the month and it aint getting any better.. did y'all hear Michelle trachtenberg just passed????! (RIP). tumblr is my internet safe space but my explore page feels like doom scrolling atp and i care about the state of the world but im a little weak rn... im not the strongest soldier.. i just want it to get better..