ˢ ᴬ ᵛ ᴵ ᴼ ᵁ ᴿ

VALICNT   ━━  hi !   i’m   jenna ,   GMT ,   ( she / her ) ,   ( 21 + ) .   independent   &   highly   selective   roleplay   blog   for   𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙵𝙰𝙽    𝚂𝙰𝙻𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙴   of   cw’s   the   vampire   diaries .   i   work   an   average   of   40   hours   a   week ,   consequently   replies   are   slow   and   activity   is   spotty .

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𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭   →   accepting.

@valicnt​​ : a tearful kiss.

there were still things that hit home for erin, things that shook her up more than they might do any of the other detectives. there was no rhyme or reason as to why some cases hit her more than others, but finding comfort in stefan had become the crack of light within the dark. her cheeks were slightly wet from tears she’d tried (and failed) to hold back, though wiping them dry was a thought far from her mind as lips sought stefan’s. “will you stay?” she whispered, face still close to his, not daring to create more space between them than she had to. “just for a little while?” 

The  kiss  had  been  fleeting  but  her  taste  remained  on  his  lips ,      leaving him  with  a  dizzying  combination  of  Erin  Lindsay  and  overpriced  liquor .      Stefan  knew  better  than  to  take  anything  from  it ,      she  was  upset     –    THEY  ALL  WERE .

He’d  already  picked  up  his  coat  when  she  spoke ,      he  stopped  rifling  through  the  breast  pocket  for  his  keys  and  turned  to  face  her     “ I ah - ”   the  correct  response  would  be  to  decline ,   to  head  back  to  his  shitty  apartment  on  the  south  side  and  further  drown  his  sorrows ,     but  the thing  was      –      HE  WAS  ALREADY  DROWNING .       “ Of course . ” 

&  hit  ‘ em  where  it  hurts  sentence  starters  (  ACCEPTING )  -   @violentend​

“ How else was I meant to get you in here ? ”    the vervain ropes and mind games hadn’t worked the first-time round .    The group had devised a plan .   What better way to reach a ripper than introduce them to one ?    Stefan had played the part well ,   reeling her in with cruel witticisms and bloodlust    “ I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS . ”

swallow that lump in your throat,   girl   —   it isn’t going to save you now.   in fact,   the only two things that can save you are your feet,   and they’re doing next to   nothing   by standing here whilst wicked’s puppeteers scour the sand in hopes of finding you both.   there are five stages of grief,   you know.   * denial,   anger,   bargaining,   depression and acceptance.   each one devours the mind for breakfast,   lunch and dinner.   they sit in the empty spaces of ones vessel and engorge in order to make more room for themselves.   of course,   they leave   the heart   for last,   praying upon their victims ability to   feel   every last little thing.   then,   and only then,   when nothing but   rot   is left in their wake:   they leave. and you,   you are   stuck   on   anger.   perhaps it is a flaw of yours to think you’ve created the anger as opposed to allowing it to create you.   perhaps this is all just   another   part of the game.   tell me,   are you angry   because of what you saw   or are you angry   because it was him?

❝    dammit,   stefan -   just leave it alone!    ❞      the vocables tear from your throat through your lips,   blood red,   like   begging for mercy.   you have never begged for anything in this life.   not that you can remember   /   not for yourself.   to avoid his hands,   you outstretch your own arms,   shoving him back.   distance,   you think;   you   need   to distance yourself from this,   from   stefan.      ❝    don’t you get it?    ❞      it’s   obvious   from your vantage point.   how you didn’t see it before you’ll never know.   a ragged breath expels itself.   exhaustion makes a portrait out of your mien.      ❝    this is what they want,   stefan.   we’re giving them exactly what they want.    ❞      each level they pass proves   one thing   to ratman.   they   are and will always be   a   weakness   to one another.   you place more distance between the two of you as the shine of flashlights can be seen getting nearer in the distance.       ❝    you go to denver.   i’ll lead them away from you.    ❞      his response   won’t   change   anything,   you decide,   as tears reflect like glass on the ocean in your eyes and turn your back away from him.

He  wanted  to  stop  her .    To  take  her  into  his  arms  and  try  to  explain   the  feelings  he’d  developed  for  the  girl  during  their  time  in  the  glade .    His  infant  brain  couldn’t  comprehend  the  concept  of  love ,    but  if  it  could    –    he’d  have  an  easier  time  verbalising  his  newly  found  sentiments .    He  took  half  a  step  towards  her ,    he  didn’t  close  the  gap    –    he  was  afraid  to .   Something  stopped  him ,    something  brewing  beneath  the  husk  of  her  voice .    IT  WAS  ENOUGH  TO  STOP HIM . ENOUGH  TO  LET  HER  GO .

DENVER

It  had  been  thirty   -   six  days  since  he’d  last  laid  eyes  upon  Clarke  Griffin .    His  road  to  Denver  had  been  a  long  one ,   HIS  ROAD  AMONGST  THE  CITYSCAPES  PERHAPS  EVEN  LONGER .    Stefan  had  no  perception  of  normality ,    of  life  before  the  flare    –    but  to  others ,  Denver  was  it .    A  city  humming  with  activity    –    but  beneath  the  tarmacked  streets  and  population ,    WICKED’S  PRESENCE  WAS  ENGRAVED  IN  IT’S  VERY  FOUNDATION . 

He  sat  atop  a  barstool ,     sinking  beer  as  though  the  taps  were  due  to run  dry .    The  city  had  introduced  him  to  liquor ,     to  old  friends    –    and  old  foes .    Gally  was  sitting  opposite  him ,    the  two  had  spoken  very  little  since  his  arrival  in  Denver .     Stefan  preferred  to  keep  it  that way ,    but  Gally  was  like  a  spinning  top    –    once started, he could spin for hours. 

Gally  had  been  trying  to  provoke  Stefan  since  his  arrival  at  the  bar    –    to  little  success .    However ,    if  one  wanted  a  reaction  from  Stefan  the  subject  matter  was  simple ,    IT  WAS  CLARKE .    Saying  her  name  was like  slipping  a  quarter  into  an  old  jukebox ,    the  once  quiet  machine  would  light  up  and  rumble    –    and  rumble ,    he  did . 

“ Clarke’s  probably  dead  by  now ,     anyway . ”

Stefan  lurched  from  his  chair ,     grabbing  Gally  by  the  collar  of  his  shirt .     The  material ,     now  battered  and  worn  by  the  sun  gave  way  beneath  his  hands  and  Stefan  gripped  again ,     this  time  for  the  boys  throat .     The  two  cascaded  towards  the  door ,     a  path  of  broken  glass and  damaged  furniture  in  their  wake .     And  what  drove  him ?   Clarke’s  final  words  to  him   -   WE’RE  GIVING  THEM  EXACTLY  WHAT  THEY  WANT . 

“   what   is   this   ?   hide-&-seek   ?   @valicnt   ?   ”   she   didn’t   have   time   for   this.   she   didn’t   even   know   what   this   was   ,   but   she   knew   enough   to   know   that   it   didn’t   interest   her.   “   fine.   i’ll   play   along.   thank   you   so   much   for   saving   me   from   .   .   .   now   you   talk.   ”   //   sc.

The words might as well be a slap in the face. Salt in a wound. Caroline Forbes. His best friend. It’s all she’ll ever be and she knows it. And it’s fine — really — because she’s long since gotten over her juvenile little crush on him. He told her himself all those years ago. The two of them? Never gonna happen. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. She can’t even count how many women she’s seen walk out of his apartment. How many fights he’s gotten into because he’s drunk and thinking with his dick instead of his head. It’s all she’ll be: HIS BEST FRIEND.

❝ I think you’ve had enough drinks for the both of us, ❞  She tries to keep her voice gentle, but there’s a firmness to her touch as she rests a hand against his chest. His posture is clumsy. Even as he stands still, he’s swaying slightly, her other hand moving to brace at his side, trying to keep him upright. 

The bartenders words are sharp. Clearly annoyed and exhausted after dealing with Stefan for the past few hours. And she gets it, she does. Drunk Stefan can be great, sometimes. But he can also be…exhausting.  ❝ I don’t want a drink, Stefan. Okay? Let’s just go home. ❞  Shifting, she positions herself in front of him. Between him and the door back to the bar. His hands are clenched. His voice has an edge. Whatever he’s looking for, it’s not good. Giving a gentle push, Caroline tries to guide him back towards the idle car.  ❝ Please. ❞

Here  he  was ,     referring  to  Caroline  Forbes  as  his  best  friend .     It  seemed  authentic ,     THE  PAIR  WERE  CLOSE   –   but  they  both  knew that  his  best  friend  for  the  last  few  months  had  been  the  bottle .     Anything  dark  and  smooth  with  a  beige  label  and  a  hefty  price  tag ,     THAT  WAS  HIS  BEST  FRIEND . 

Since  Elena  had  kissed  him  goodbye  and  skipped  into  the  sunset  with his  brother ,     he  wasn’t  even  sure  what  friends  were .     The  one’s  he’d  trusted ,     the  one’s  he’d  loved  –  they’d  carved  their  betrayal  into his  back  with  a  rusty  blade .     If  Elena  had  been  the  liquor ,     Damon  was  the  one  with  the  liberal  pour  –  that’s  what  had  led  him  into  this mess .     But  if  friends  were  considered  to  be  the  ones  you  could  count on ,      the  ones  at  the  other  end  of  the  phone  regardless  of  the  hour  –  then  yeah ,     CAROLINE  FORBES  WAS  HIS  BEST  FRIEND .

He  felt  Caroline’s  palm  against  his  chest ,    HIS  BODY  RIGID  BENEATH  HER  TOUCH .     The  liquor  pulsing  through  his  veins  wanted  to  push  her  aside  and  tussle  with  the  barman  for  his  insolence    –    but  there  was  something  in  her  eyes   -   HOPE ,      perhaps ?       He  locked  eyes  with Caroline  for  a  moment  longer ,     trying  to  find what  he’d  seen  there .      He  swallowed  thickly ,      placing  his  own  hand  over  hers            ❝ No ,     YOU’RE RIGHT . ❞          He  released  her  hand  and  turned  towards  the vehicle            ❝ –  this place is a bust anyway . ❞

He  climbed  into  the  passenger  seat ,     tugging  the  seatbelt  across  his chest  in  a  bid  to  stop  the  relentless  tooting  of  the  safety  systems          ❝ let’s go home . ❞