FIC: I'm Looking For My Friend
Dec. 6th, 2011 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ever_neutralTitle: I'm Looking For My Friend
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Characters: Stefan, Klaus (Stefan/Klaus)
Words / Rating: 1614 words / T for language, violence, emo sociopathic-ness
Spoilers: Post-Homecoming
Summary: Come find me.
A/N: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lynnenne, prompt: "We were friends" / "We are friends". This is vaguely lulzy, as this pairing is wont to be.
~~~~~
There are many other places Stefan should be right now.
(But he's not thinking about that.)
Stealing Klaus's coffins was a good idea at the time. Lugging them across the country proves more tiresome.
Stefan regrets nothing. He'd do this all over again.
He knows Klaus is coming for him. Probably with a stake. Wonders if there's a cute little urn picked out for his remains, to be placed beside the other coffins.
Stefan doesn't feel afraid. (He doesn't feel anything. Remember?) Stands at the balcony of his hotel room, whispers to the Bahama breeze: "Come find me, friend."
*
"One more move, and I will tear apart everyone you know," Klaus hisses, all impotent fury across a tinny phone line.
"You do that," Stefan says, as though he doesn't care. "I'll set your family on fire."
The clenching of Klaus's fists is damned near audible. This makes Stefan smile. (This is what makes him smile, these days.)
"What exactly do you think you are playing at?" Klaus says, voice low and steady, exuding a semblance of calm.
"I'm just enjoying my freedom, comrade." Stefan plays with the severed head on his lap. Licks a strip of congealed blood off his finger. "The freedom you granted me."
There's no response on the other end.
Stefan pours himself a glass of scotch. "Or maybe you're starting to regret that?"
"Mark my words, friend," Klaus finally says, slow and deliberate. "By the time I am done with you, you will regret the day you were brought into this world."
Stefan’s smile spreads, twists up into something that’s almost a grimace. "Is that a promise?"
*
If Stefan were to describe himself as feeling anything, he'd say he feels… good. It feels good to be a step ahead, to be out from under someone's thumb, to have absolutely nothing to lose.
(He has already lost everything; that's how he knows that he's finally winning.)
Really, he thinks, he should probably thank Klaus; he hasn't had this much fun in years.
*
There’s an incident in Florida. He's in some sleazy nightclub, drinking from a young man in a dark corner; the thumping of a processed bass drum beats in time to the slowing pulse of the man he cradles in his hands. If anyone were to look over now, this would seem like a loving embrace.
Stefan drops the boy, dead now, back in his chair, too-blue eyes staring vacantly up at the strobe lights. Truthfully the boy left something to be desired. Stefan's always preferred his blood fresh and pure, not laced with illicit chemicals. Damon would probably disagree. But he's not here with Damon.
Stefan moves on. Heads back out to the dance floor.
Then he freezes, feeling the weight of someone’s gaze. Turns around, sees a man watching him from an alcove.
Stefan moves through the crowd so fast, he's up on the alcove with his hand around the man's throat before the music's skipped two beats.
It’s only then that he realises he got it wrong. The human gapes at him, eyes wide. Blue eyes, again. Stefan's truly growing sick of those.
"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. Lets go of the frightened man. Briefly considers eating him. But no, the rush of adrenaline's passed. He just wants to be alone now.
He's never been good at this nightlife thing. (He was, once.)
*
Sometimes he gets bored. Puts the phone on loudspeaker.
"Hey there, friend," he greets when the call picks up.
"What the hell do you think you are doing," is Klaus's gritted-teeth response.
"Me? Oh, I'm just dining with some friends," Stefan says cheerfully. "Well, in a manner of speaking." Looks out of his window, at the starry night sky. "It's a beautiful night. Wish you could join me."
Klaus chuckles, sounds almost amused. "As do I, comrade. You can't imagine what I plan to do to you."
"Are you trying to turn me on?" Stefan slashes open the limp wrist of his dining companion, squeezes the blood into his wine glass.
Klaus doesn't say anything for a moment. Then his voice comes quiet, tense, almost gentle: "I will find you, Stefan."
Stefan sits back, raises his glass to his lips. "I'm counting on it."
There's no response.
"It's been good talking to you, pal." Stefan hangs up the line.
*
He’s in Georgia for Christmas. It's a little too close to… other places; but it's necessary to pass through on his way to Tennessee. Stefan has some old friends in Nashville he hasn't seen in massacre-free decades. Figures now’s a good a time as any to re-forge old connections, etcetera.
He's checking the baggage van when his phone shrieks a ringtone. For a split second he thinks it’s Damon or Elena, and panic hits him, swift and nauseating, it’s so inconvenient, so unfair; it’s what he ran out of town to escape.
But when he presses the phone to his ear, it’s Klaus’s voice that comes through. The relief is sickening.
“How’s my family doing?” Klaus asks, too lively.
It immediately sets Stefan on edge. “Klaus?”
“Yes, it’s me, old chum,” Klaus says, equally cheerful and disdainful. “I realised that it wasn’t fair to leave it up to you to arrange these chats each time. Must be costing a fortune.”
Stefan shakes his head. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, can’t a friend simply get in touch with his friend? Must we have ulterior motives for everything, Stefan?” There’s a dark undercurrent to the question.
On instinct, Stefan turns, surveys his surroundings. But there’s nothing. Just the empty parking lot. Some birds in the sky.
“I would like to know, though,” Klaus continues, “how is my family?”
The question is calm, but there’s a sliver of tension in it. This, more than anything, makes Stefan feel assured. “Oh, they’re great.” He hoists himself up into the back of the van. “Just looking at them now.” He knocks on a coffin for Klaus’s benefit.
“Wonderful,” Klaus says, smoothly. “Well, do keep taking care of them, will you. And I’ll return the favour.”
Stefan leans against a coffin. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
“Your brother is unexpectedly accommodating, did you know?” Klaus says. In the background, there’s a yell of pain. “Then again, perhaps that is to be expected from a brainwashed vampire. You can get them to do the funniest things to themselves.” Another distant cry of pain.
Stefan’s jaw clenches. “Stay the fuck away from my brother.”
“Now now, Stefan. Let’s not be a hypocrite. I’m a man of compromise. Give me back mine, I’ll release yours.”
Stefan closes his eyes. Silently counts to ten. He can’t afford to break. If he breaks, then he’s lost. Overwhelmed. They’ll overwhelm him.
(But of course they will. Sooner or later. He’s never managed to escape them completely. It’s the one thing at which he’s always truly failed.)
He opens his eyes, and says, “Fine. Whatever you say.”
There’s a moment of silence. Then, “Good man.” The line goes dead.
*
They meet in New York. In Times Square. Midnight, on New Year’s Eve. There’s something romantic about that. Probably Klaus planned it that way. Stefan doesn’t linger on that thought.
Minutes before the bell chimes, he arrives in the square; around him, happy families and couples linger, awash in warmth and laughter. Stefan tries his best to ignore them. Looks instead for the face he hasn’t seen for months, the one that’s permanently branded in his memory.
(No compulsion could make him forget now.)
“There you are, my friend,” a familiar voice says.
Stefan turns.
And Klaus is there, light blue eyes blazing.
This is the moment, Stefan thinks. Doesn’t know what that means, completely, but it hits him like a remembered melody.
“You know what I’m going to ask,” Klaus says plainly.
Stefan nods. “Two blocks down. White van.” Pauses. “And mine?”
“Last time I saw, safe and sound.” Klaus closes the distance between them. Puts his hands on Stefan’s shoulders, and leans in until their foreheads are almost touching.
What must people think? Stefan wonders. The sight of the two of them like this.
It occurs to him that he doesn’t care.
(Of course not. He doesn’t care about anything anymore.)
“Do you know, I truly thought we’d make it right this time around.” Klaus grips him tight, eyes glistening with some emotion Stefan doesn’t care to place.
“Well, whose fault was that?”
Klaus smiles slightly. One hand moves in a blur, and then Stefan feels it, the sharp wooden point pressed to his back through his shirt.
He doesn’t move. “You’re gonna do it right here? Around everybody?”
“They won’t notice.” Klaus sneers. “And it seems poetic. You were always afraid to die alone, weren’t you?”
Stefan swallows. Around them, the crowd starts chanting, counting down the clock. “Ten! Nine! …”
“It’s been good knowing you, brother,” Klaus tells him, pressing the point of the stake over Stefan’s heart.
Then he pauses.
“Eight! Seven! …”
“Well? Go on. Do it.” Stefan holds Klaus’s gaze. “Kill me. I’ll even let you.”
Klaus’s eyes flash, some emotion Stefan can almost place.
“Six! Five! …”
“This is the moment, Nik,” Stefan murmurs; it seems the right thing to say. “It’s now or never.”
“Three!”
Klaus does nothing but gaze at him, expression unfathomable.
“Two! …”
Stefan takes an unnecessary breath, and waits.
*
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Characters: Stefan, Klaus (Stefan/Klaus)
Words / Rating: 1614 words / T for language, violence, emo sociopathic-ness
Spoilers: Post-Homecoming
Summary: Come find me.
A/N: For
lynnenne, prompt: "We were friends" / "We are friends". This is vaguely lulzy, as this pairing is wont to be.~~~~~
There are many other places Stefan should be right now.
(But he's not thinking about that.)
Stealing Klaus's coffins was a good idea at the time. Lugging them across the country proves more tiresome.
Stefan regrets nothing. He'd do this all over again.
He knows Klaus is coming for him. Probably with a stake. Wonders if there's a cute little urn picked out for his remains, to be placed beside the other coffins.
Stefan doesn't feel afraid. (He doesn't feel anything. Remember?) Stands at the balcony of his hotel room, whispers to the Bahama breeze: "Come find me, friend."
*
"One more move, and I will tear apart everyone you know," Klaus hisses, all impotent fury across a tinny phone line.
"You do that," Stefan says, as though he doesn't care. "I'll set your family on fire."
The clenching of Klaus's fists is damned near audible. This makes Stefan smile. (This is what makes him smile, these days.)
"What exactly do you think you are playing at?" Klaus says, voice low and steady, exuding a semblance of calm.
"I'm just enjoying my freedom, comrade." Stefan plays with the severed head on his lap. Licks a strip of congealed blood off his finger. "The freedom you granted me."
There's no response on the other end.
Stefan pours himself a glass of scotch. "Or maybe you're starting to regret that?"
"Mark my words, friend," Klaus finally says, slow and deliberate. "By the time I am done with you, you will regret the day you were brought into this world."
Stefan’s smile spreads, twists up into something that’s almost a grimace. "Is that a promise?"
*
If Stefan were to describe himself as feeling anything, he'd say he feels… good. It feels good to be a step ahead, to be out from under someone's thumb, to have absolutely nothing to lose.
(He has already lost everything; that's how he knows that he's finally winning.)
Really, he thinks, he should probably thank Klaus; he hasn't had this much fun in years.
*
There’s an incident in Florida. He's in some sleazy nightclub, drinking from a young man in a dark corner; the thumping of a processed bass drum beats in time to the slowing pulse of the man he cradles in his hands. If anyone were to look over now, this would seem like a loving embrace.
Stefan drops the boy, dead now, back in his chair, too-blue eyes staring vacantly up at the strobe lights. Truthfully the boy left something to be desired. Stefan's always preferred his blood fresh and pure, not laced with illicit chemicals. Damon would probably disagree. But he's not here with Damon.
Stefan moves on. Heads back out to the dance floor.
Then he freezes, feeling the weight of someone’s gaze. Turns around, sees a man watching him from an alcove.
Stefan moves through the crowd so fast, he's up on the alcove with his hand around the man's throat before the music's skipped two beats.
It’s only then that he realises he got it wrong. The human gapes at him, eyes wide. Blue eyes, again. Stefan's truly growing sick of those.
"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. Lets go of the frightened man. Briefly considers eating him. But no, the rush of adrenaline's passed. He just wants to be alone now.
He's never been good at this nightlife thing. (He was, once.)
*
Sometimes he gets bored. Puts the phone on loudspeaker.
"Hey there, friend," he greets when the call picks up.
"What the hell do you think you are doing," is Klaus's gritted-teeth response.
"Me? Oh, I'm just dining with some friends," Stefan says cheerfully. "Well, in a manner of speaking." Looks out of his window, at the starry night sky. "It's a beautiful night. Wish you could join me."
Klaus chuckles, sounds almost amused. "As do I, comrade. You can't imagine what I plan to do to you."
"Are you trying to turn me on?" Stefan slashes open the limp wrist of his dining companion, squeezes the blood into his wine glass.
Klaus doesn't say anything for a moment. Then his voice comes quiet, tense, almost gentle: "I will find you, Stefan."
Stefan sits back, raises his glass to his lips. "I'm counting on it."
There's no response.
"It's been good talking to you, pal." Stefan hangs up the line.
*
He’s in Georgia for Christmas. It's a little too close to… other places; but it's necessary to pass through on his way to Tennessee. Stefan has some old friends in Nashville he hasn't seen in massacre-free decades. Figures now’s a good a time as any to re-forge old connections, etcetera.
He's checking the baggage van when his phone shrieks a ringtone. For a split second he thinks it’s Damon or Elena, and panic hits him, swift and nauseating, it’s so inconvenient, so unfair; it’s what he ran out of town to escape.
But when he presses the phone to his ear, it’s Klaus’s voice that comes through. The relief is sickening.
“How’s my family doing?” Klaus asks, too lively.
It immediately sets Stefan on edge. “Klaus?”
“Yes, it’s me, old chum,” Klaus says, equally cheerful and disdainful. “I realised that it wasn’t fair to leave it up to you to arrange these chats each time. Must be costing a fortune.”
Stefan shakes his head. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, can’t a friend simply get in touch with his friend? Must we have ulterior motives for everything, Stefan?” There’s a dark undercurrent to the question.
On instinct, Stefan turns, surveys his surroundings. But there’s nothing. Just the empty parking lot. Some birds in the sky.
“I would like to know, though,” Klaus continues, “how is my family?”
The question is calm, but there’s a sliver of tension in it. This, more than anything, makes Stefan feel assured. “Oh, they’re great.” He hoists himself up into the back of the van. “Just looking at them now.” He knocks on a coffin for Klaus’s benefit.
“Wonderful,” Klaus says, smoothly. “Well, do keep taking care of them, will you. And I’ll return the favour.”
Stefan leans against a coffin. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
“Your brother is unexpectedly accommodating, did you know?” Klaus says. In the background, there’s a yell of pain. “Then again, perhaps that is to be expected from a brainwashed vampire. You can get them to do the funniest things to themselves.” Another distant cry of pain.
Stefan’s jaw clenches. “Stay the fuck away from my brother.”
“Now now, Stefan. Let’s not be a hypocrite. I’m a man of compromise. Give me back mine, I’ll release yours.”
Stefan closes his eyes. Silently counts to ten. He can’t afford to break. If he breaks, then he’s lost. Overwhelmed. They’ll overwhelm him.
(But of course they will. Sooner or later. He’s never managed to escape them completely. It’s the one thing at which he’s always truly failed.)
He opens his eyes, and says, “Fine. Whatever you say.”
There’s a moment of silence. Then, “Good man.” The line goes dead.
*
They meet in New York. In Times Square. Midnight, on New Year’s Eve. There’s something romantic about that. Probably Klaus planned it that way. Stefan doesn’t linger on that thought.
Minutes before the bell chimes, he arrives in the square; around him, happy families and couples linger, awash in warmth and laughter. Stefan tries his best to ignore them. Looks instead for the face he hasn’t seen for months, the one that’s permanently branded in his memory.
(No compulsion could make him forget now.)
“There you are, my friend,” a familiar voice says.
Stefan turns.
And Klaus is there, light blue eyes blazing.
This is the moment, Stefan thinks. Doesn’t know what that means, completely, but it hits him like a remembered melody.
“You know what I’m going to ask,” Klaus says plainly.
Stefan nods. “Two blocks down. White van.” Pauses. “And mine?”
“Last time I saw, safe and sound.” Klaus closes the distance between them. Puts his hands on Stefan’s shoulders, and leans in until their foreheads are almost touching.
What must people think? Stefan wonders. The sight of the two of them like this.
It occurs to him that he doesn’t care.
(Of course not. He doesn’t care about anything anymore.)
“Do you know, I truly thought we’d make it right this time around.” Klaus grips him tight, eyes glistening with some emotion Stefan doesn’t care to place.
“Well, whose fault was that?”
Klaus smiles slightly. One hand moves in a blur, and then Stefan feels it, the sharp wooden point pressed to his back through his shirt.
He doesn’t move. “You’re gonna do it right here? Around everybody?”
“They won’t notice.” Klaus sneers. “And it seems poetic. You were always afraid to die alone, weren’t you?”
Stefan swallows. Around them, the crowd starts chanting, counting down the clock. “Ten! Nine! …”
“It’s been good knowing you, brother,” Klaus tells him, pressing the point of the stake over Stefan’s heart.
Then he pauses.
“Eight! Seven! …”
“Well? Go on. Do it.” Stefan holds Klaus’s gaze. “Kill me. I’ll even let you.”
Klaus’s eyes flash, some emotion Stefan can almost place.
“Six! Five! …”
“This is the moment, Nik,” Stefan murmurs; it seems the right thing to say. “It’s now or never.”
“Three!”
Klaus does nothing but gaze at him, expression unfathomable.
“Two! …”
Stefan takes an unnecessary breath, and waits.
*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 04:13 pm (UTC)I really like how Stefan seems so ~distanced from everything, how he's still trying not to feel, and it's this peculiar, shut-off mindset that works really, really well, idk, I really like how you wrote him.
And the humor throughout is perfect, I grinned so much :D
no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 05:09 pm (UTC)sexcalls because those parts were my favourite. :D Also glad to hear the Stefan POV worked, the dude is in a very interesting place indeed in canon.no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 06:10 am (UTC)And I totally agree, very interested to see where they go from here with him.
(Also, your icon is the best.)
no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 06:20 pm (UTC)I mean--it makes me torn. lol. This was a great game, and I think ...this would probably happen in the show, at least in terms of Klaus getting back his family.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 03:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 09:25 pm (UTC)Stefan regrets nothing.
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 03:33 am (UTC)I THOUGHT YOU'D SEE WHAT I DID THERE. ::bro fist-bump::
no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 11:42 pm (UTC)What a perfect cliff-hanger ending! Klaus can't let him live, and he can't live without him. So, so awesome.
He has already lost everything; that's how he knows that he's finally winning.
Oh, I love this Stefan. And Klaus calling him "chum." Terrific voices throughout.
“Your brother is unexpectedly accommodating, did you know?” Klaus says. In the background, there’s a yell of pain. “Then again, perhaps that is to be expected from a brainwashed vampire. You can get them to do the funniest things to themselves.”
Creepy and perfect. Klaus knows where Stefan lives.
Thank you so much for writing my prompt. <33
no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 03:50 am (UTC)Thanks so much! And you are very welcome, bro. Really glad you enjoyed. ♥ These two are just too much fun.
Ack, and thanks for the rec! You are too nice. ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-12-06 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 04:12 am (UTC)lol what kind of expression is that
Date: 2011-12-07 08:15 am (UTC)I learned how to put images in comments can you tell?
Date: 2011-12-07 08:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 10:43 am (UTC)They are so doing it. The only thing Klaus is really pissed off about is that he can't flirt with Stefan now that he has run off with the coffins. I think you got both their voices spot on. YAY!
no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 11:17 am (UTC)Also, love your new lj theme!♥
no subject
Date: 2011-12-07 02:23 pm (UTC)Glad it resonated, lol. Thanks for the comment! ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-12-08 08:45 am (UTC)The clenching of Klaus's fists is damned near audible. This makes Stefan smile. (This is what makes him smile, these days.)
This for some reason is my favourite bit, because oh, Stefan! He has nowhere to hide from himself any more.
Anyway. Excellent fic.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-08 11:47 am (UTC)And thank you! Glad you like.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-09 12:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-09 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-09 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-10 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-10 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-10 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-11 02:41 am (UTC)Klaus is stumped for a little while, but he eventually figures the rules. Damon is ALWAYS the Full House to beat Stefan's Poker Face...
The ending is perfect.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-11 03:20 am (UTC)HA, perfectly put.
And thank you! Glad it entertained.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-15 07:36 pm (UTC)“Oh, can’t a friend simply get in touch with his friend? Must we have ulterior motives for everything, Stefan?” There’s a dark undercurrent to the question.
The eternal question, lol. This fic is so great, even though it so easily shows one of many reasons why the show's midseason ~twist is fucking stupid. Like, duh, Stefan left
DAMONall the people he cares about in D-A-N-G-E-R ;P Silly vampires. Anyway, this fic is awesome. Why do you not write fic more often, honestly it hurts me to think of not having all this amazeballs stuff to read all the time once December is over.no subject
Date: 2011-12-16 05:26 am (UTC)Like, duh, Stefan left DAMON all the people he cares about in D-A-N-G-E-R ;P
HAHAHAHA RIGHT? I loved that lolarious moment, don't get me wrong, but also: son, what are you doing.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 05:47 am (UTC)I... YOU... I think my emotional response is largely due to the almost visceral rejection I have of the idea of Stefan dying ever. Not my boy, not ever. But then you made the circumstances of the death so fucking perfectly heart-breaking that I just ended up a weeping ball of emotions, so yeah.
Wonders if there's a cute little urn picked out for his remains, to be placed beside the other coffins.
Oh, yes, there is. THERE IS.
The clenching of Klaus's fists is damned near audible. This makes Stefan smile. (This is what makes him smile, these days.)
Looove this line. Such a sharp and poignant picture of who this Stefan is. And then the SEVERED HEAD IN HIS LAP. I CAN'T EVEN.
"By the time I am done with you, you will regret the day you were brought into this world." // Stefan’s smile spreads, twists up into something that’s almost a grimace. "Is that a promise?"
Oooh, I see what you did there. Because, like the first section said, Stefan regrets NOTHING.
(He has already lost everything; that's how he knows that he's finally winning.)
Fffff, perfection. Oh, Stefan, out from everyone's thumb with nothing to lose.
Stefan closes his eyes. Silently counts to ten. He can’t afford to break. If he breaks, then he’s lost. Overwhelmed. They’ll overwhelm him. (But of course they will. Sooner or later. He’s never managed to escape them completely. It’s the one thing at which he’s always truly failed.)
This is getting repetitive, but seriously HOW DID YOU WRITE THIS? These two lines are EVERYTHING STEFAN IS. They overwhelm him.
“They won’t notice.” Klaus sneers. “And it seems poetic. You were always afraid to die alone, weren’t you?”
And, just, Stefan's passivity, even at the end. Him standing there and letting Klaus decide his fate, but Stefan is still in control somehow. Only Stefan can completely give up and have that be his power play. I loved him calling Klaus 'Nik' in the end, finally and completely being his own man.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-27 10:11 am (UTC)Dude, I swear, this was supposed to be a lol!fic, BUT THEN THIS HAPPENED. Anyhow, I am honoured to receive such a visceral reaction from you. Was not anticipating that tbh.
Oh, yes, there is. THERE IS.
lol, have to credit my beta for that one. But you know that is a thing Klaus would do.
And YAY, I am ecstatic the Stefan POV worked for you. That has made my day, basically. :DDDDDD Especially with "Nik" thing actually, I was agonising over that right to the end for some reason. So. YAY!
In conclusion: THANK YOU SO MUCH, M'DEAR. You say very nice things. Your whole comment has been the greatest gift of the season tbh. ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-12-28 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-28 07:59 am (UTC)