Somewhere beyond the sea

Fanfiction: The Runaway (10/?)

2009-12-04T16:19:49Z

Title: The Runaway (10/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: Thanks again for you guys' comments. They really give me ideas and kind of help me steer the story when I get a little nuts. I know a lot of you have exams and holiday buzz, so I hope this helps you relax a little! Thanks again for reading!! Also, check out my holiday post! (P.S.: Poor Eric!)

Eric found her as he had never seen her before. Her eyes black with blood lust and her teeth sunk deep into the throat of a young man in a white button down now drenched in scarlet. Her hands gripped his shoulders against the wall so tightly that he could see the veins and bones flex as she fed. Savage noises that he had never heard from her before - growls and moans - escaped her throat. The body in her hands hung limp against the alley and it was easy to see that he was past saving. Her first kill. It was the point of no return.

Her first kill and she was all alone.

He would have thought that this Damon guy would stick around and take care of her, but now Eric was really going to torture the bastard when he got his hands on him. He took an apprehensive step, careful not to startle her, and paused when she turned her head swiftly to him. With her cheek and chin smeared with blood, he wasn't sure what to feel. He was proud, yet horrified. Worried yet aroused. The smell of blood and Blair was paralyzing.

"Come home with me, Blair."

The body fell to the floor with a thud and she slowly ran the back of her hand across her face, leaving streaks of red against her skin. "I don't think that's going to happen, Eric." The tips of her hair grew stiff as they dried and, in combination with the look in her eyes, she looked wild. "Although I am curious, are you sick of your little toy already?"

She sneered at him with pink-stained teeth and he could tell even without words that she was already planning her escape. Just as she lunged to the right, though, he caught her and had her pinned against the wall by the wrists in a second. "You know better than to leave your messes behind, Blair. I taught you better than that." He watched her struggle against him, her body familiar even if the hostility wasn't. She gave one last push before she gave up, settling for a withering glare instead. At this proximity, Eric finally got a good look at her. Beneath her fair, nearly translucent skin, her spidery veins ran dark. "The bastard. He's been starving you, hasn't he?"

She growled, a noise deep in her throat. "What do you care?"

He released a wrist to run the back of his hand against a blood-stained cheek, his eyes locked to hers just as they used to be when they made love. "You know I-"

The silent, blunt force could have only come from another immortal being and as he fell unconscious, Blair flexed her freed hands. "How was dinner, doll?" Damon held out his hand for her to take, his blue eyes glittering in the lone back alley light. She smiled wryly at him and he wrapped his arm around her small waist, her back still against the wall. He nudged Eric's body aside with the toe of his shoe before planting a big one on her; the blood still tasted fresh on her tongue. "Still hungry?"

She nodded and looked up at him, her teeth bit down on her lower lip. She was his now. "The city awaits." She gave her maker an extra kick, right in his chest, as she jumped away, her new companion's hand swinging in hers.

* * *

It took three hours for Eric to properly dispose of the body they had so carelessly left behind and he had just enough time to slip back into The Palace before the sun rose. Even with the pain in his head and the bruise on his chest, all of his thoughts revolved around her safety. Did she get back before sunrise? Had she been discovered? He ran through all the rookie mistakes she could have made and with each, became even more anxious.

He fell onto the couch in the Bass suite, completely ignoring Bill and several of New York's most influential individuals, and sighed. He had grossly underestimated this Damon and they would have to start their search anew.

"Good to see you're still the same mannerless prick you were this evening." Apparently the gloves were off. Even the blond lapdog was starting to bite. "Did you manage to at least get something useful done?"

Eric groaned, his hand covering his eyes while his feet dangled off the side of the love seat. "I found her, if that's what you mean. I'm guessing that's more than you-"

"Wait, you found her?"

"Well, Eric, where is she?"

"Is she all right?"

Were these people brain-damaged? He expected it from Sookie and the other blonde, but Bill as well? Looking at the two girls, he could only think of eager, excited puppies. He hated puppies. He heard a sigh from the man he nearly threw across the room about twelve hours ago. "How bad was it?"

"What are you talking about, Chuck? He found her! That's good news, right?" It was nearly heartbreaking the way Serena's smile drooped slowly as she realized that there was nothing good about the situation. "...but she isn't here."

Eric sighed. "No, she is not."

Bill took a seat, now somber and unaffected by the ladies' infectious smiles. "What happened?"

It was difficult for Eric to find the right words for the delicate feminine sensibilities and he could hardly predict their reactions. They are human, after all, and prone to over react. So he kept his eyes on his fellow vampire and laid it out plainly. "She killed." The words tasted poisonous around his tongue. She had been so pure and good, even as she sunk her teeth apologetically to the Southern fang bangers who willingly offered themselves to her. He couldn't protect that. "He starved her and she killed."

Serena's pout was matched with her small voice. "She told me she'd never done that before." She reached for the small bite marks on her neck, remembering the sensation and trust...

"She never did." Bill rested his chin on his folded hands as he assessed the situation. He knew how messy a vampire kill could be and he couldn't imagine the pristine little princess getting herself into that sort of dirty work. This Damon character must have been more dangerous than they thought.

"We hunt." Chuck rose from his seat and Eric watched as he straightened out a twisted diamond necklace on display at the mantel. His finger tips lingered on the heart pendant dangling in the middle. "We hunt that bastard down and get her back."

Before falling into an exhaustion-induced sleep, Eric nodded. He couldn't agree more.

* * *

"I'm having so much fuuuuuun!" She spun around the house they had just taken over from their entree (alley prey were for appetizers at best). Her hair was still wet from her shower and beads of water that still held her scent fell on his skin. She was drunk on her binge.

"Didn't I tell you that this would be good? That we would be good?" He turned on the elaborate sound system in the bachelor pad and he lulled momentarily to the jazz that filled the room. "Come here." He held out his hand and was more than pleased when she obliged and twirled herself into his arms.

She swayed, her head tilted back and a nonsensical smile on her face. He was right. There was no way Eric could make her this happy when she knew that Sookie was hanging around. She danced on tip toes with her bare feet hopping from the living room to the kitchen, leaving a damp trail as she went. She gripped his hand and he followed, her spirit infectious as he, too, soaked in the decadent music.

She led him to the bedroom, where the rich bastard had silk sheets covering his bed. Sure beat the hotel they were staying at. Before he could say a word, she was laying on the bed, her eyes trained on him as if they were luring him into a trap. He took a minute to admire the view. "So no more running back to that guy, huh?"

A hint of anger flashed in her eyes before she had her hands behind his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. She hissed when he grabbed her thigh. With a lazy smile and a quirked eyebrow, she said the words he'd been waiting to hear. "I'm all yours."

* * *

"Drinking before noon. A man after my own heart. It's no wonder Blair chose you out of all the vamps in the world." Eric hardly spared Chuck a glance when he saw the billionaire stroll into the living room kitchen of his penthouse in his bathrobe. In the morning, when things were quiet, they were okay.

He swished the artificial blood around in his bottle before he offered in jest, "blood?"

Maintaining his cool with a wave of his hand, Chuck impressed Eric. "I'm more of a scotch man myself." He watched the ease with which the barely legal New Yorker poured himself a drink. Under different circumstances, perhaps the two of them could have been friends.

That is, if Eric were the type to have friends in the first place.

* * *

Seven days.

Well, more accurately, seven nights.

Damon could no longer deny that he was absolutely infatuated with this girl. She was vivacious in a way he could never rouse from Catherine or Stephen. It was a side of her that he had proudly unleashed. The power without the self-loathing that so often came with the fangs. She enjoyed the hunt as much as he and even shared the spoils on occasion. There was nothing more perfect than the look on her face at the end of the night as she stretched out beside him, sated.

It helped that she shared her bed with him now.

Of course, on occasion, he had been woken by surprise when she brought food home and threw the man on their bed, but that was what he called a delicious surprise. Besides, he couldn't possibly be more shocked than the prey itself. For whatever reason, even when they saw him, the first thing that popped into mind was "threesome."

Humans.

As if he would ever let- as if they were worthy of-

Her skin was soft beneath his hands as he wrapped them around her. The rough part was over now and she no longer fought. Instead, she was like a sweet child with her tempting eyes and pleasing smile. She knew to bat her eyelashes and give sweet kisses when she wanted something and, like every good suitor, he indulged her every whim. She became increasingly bold - her exploits in public places and the way she would unbutton the top few clasps on her dresses made her positively electric in his eyes.

She did own this city, even if the denizens themselves didn't know it. They'd fed in every borough, marked the bars and alleys they had hit in Brooklyn and Queens. The Bronx was a bit too rowdy and animalistic for their tastes. The hunt was always too easy in a place where no one had much to live for.

There it was again - that teasing smile. "What can I do for you now, my dear?"

She rolled herself on top of him, her curves resting perfectly on the planes of his body. "There's a lot you can do for me now." She laughed, a tone deeper than when she had met him. "But I was thinking we could do something a little... different tonight."

He brushed his hands down her sides when she gave a little nip to his chest. He loved her when she was playful. "What did you have in mind?"

"Let's go into the city." He cocked an eyebrow. They had stayed out of Manhattan since she left her maker. "It's time to fish in a bigger pond."

It was telling exactly how much the girl knew him when she rolled her hips at that precise moment in that mind-numbing way of hers - all lip biting and leisurely even as his grip attempted to hold her in place and his breath struggled to remain in control. "Whatever you want," he growled as he rolled them over. He slipped into her with practiced ease. "Whatever you want."

He sealed it with a kiss.

Party like it's already 2010~~~

2009-12-02T04:15:56Z

So I've caught the holiday bug from you guys and here's the deal:

1. Message me yo' addresses (and your real names), given that you trust me enough to know that I won't, in fact, be sending anthrax brownies this year.

2. Request a (preferably) Blair-related one-shot prompt. Free for all.

Happy holidays!

P.S. Remember to get Leighton's Christmas single off iTunes or Amazon!

Fanfiction: The Runaway (9/?)

2009-11-30T16:26:41Z

Title: The Runaway (9/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: I hope everyone had a good holiday! To battle the dreaded feeling of returning to school/work, have a chapter on the house :). As always, thank you so much for your responses!

Fear was useless in a city where everyone lived like they're already dead. Time after time, humans have proved useless when Eric inquired after either Blair or her captor and he was running out of patience as quickly as he was draining the little sympathy he had for them. The city that never slept was a ghost-town in most areas at night and he wished he was back at Fangtasia, his herd by his side.

He stood on the bridge and looked out toward the glittering lights of Manhattan with the wind whistling in his ear. He had traced every bit of that island and if she had been anywhere, in any crevice or tunnel in the grid, he would have known. That left the other boroughs for two hours left of night. By the time he found a place to stay, he would be cutting it close.

Of course, he thought as he ran. Nothing worth having ever came easily.

* * *

Her eyes hurt. Actually, her entire head hurt when she woke and she snapped her eyelids shut. Someone had turned on the light in her room.

"Rise and shine, darling." He sounded so disgustingly cheerful that she actually scowled. "Come on. Get up, walk around. The moon does the dead body good." She turned her back towards the sound of his voice. It was body language even he couldn't be oblivious to. "Is that how you treat someone who brought you presents?"

She felt a weight drop on her leg and took a peek. Garment bags. He had thrown a pile of garment bags at her. Although... that peek of lace was suspiciously familiar. Her curiosity got the best of her and with a look that said "I'll get up but I'm not going to like it," she sat up and reached for the top of the pile. He only smiled on indulgently and she made it clear that it was not appreciated.

She pulled the zipper down slowly to reveal the Ferragamo dress she had purchased via Dorota what seemed like a lifetime ago. The fabric felt soft beneath her touch and she pressed her face against it - there was nothing like the smell of new clothes, especially after Dorota had spritzed a touch of Coco Mademoiselle after the purchase. That woman knew her like no one else.

"And here, I took some stuff that I liked from your closet too." He threw a duffel bag at her and she nearly gagged at the thought of all that silk and cashmere stuffed together in a bag. She opened it only to find choice pieces of her... delicates in different colors and materials strewn haphazardly all over the place.

"You went through my underwear drawer?"

"The little purple number is my favorite." She ignored him and dug deeper to look through his choices. Even she had to admit it begrudgingly, the man had good taste. At the very bottom was a faded mint green lace dress with a satin slip.

Victrola.

She lifted it out by the shoulders and placed it beside her on the bed, recalling how it felt to have the material slide slowly down her arms until her back was pressed against fresh leather. Behind her now was a man who could slip onto the bed without her knowing and grasp onto her shoulders before she could even turn around. When had her life taken this turn?

It's all Chuck's fault, isn't it? Somehow, somewhere, the Basstard was always behind the disasters of her life.

"Dorota did a hell of a job washing the stain out, but I could smell your blood on it. I'm a sentimental guy." He kissed the shell of her ear before resting his chin on her shoulder.

"You are, aren't you?" She turned her face toward him, her murmuring lips touching his briefly and he shut his eyes to the sensation of the first Blair-initiated kiss between them. He barely tasted her, enjoyed the soft pads of her flesh when she whispered, "Who's Catherine?"

He recoiled like she had poured acid on him and looked at her with such disgust that, even if she was prepared to unveil some hidden secret, surprised her. He was more serious than she had ever seen him, more dangerous and erratic. She watched him try to regain his composure, run his hand through his hair and shut his eyes tight. "You don't get to talk about her. Ever."

"I heard you say her name. Last night, in your sleep-"

"Shut up!"

"Am I supposed to replace her? Is that what this is?" She was on her back before she could begin her next sentence, his body looming over hers and his hands tight around her throat. He squeezed tight and had she been a human, her neck would have snapped. However, after the initial moments it took to realize that she didn't need to breathe, she went limp from her struggle and stared right back at his furrowed brow and large fangs. Now she was really curious.

He took a breath that she felt on her face and loosened his grip to rest his hands on either side of her head among her curls. "Look what you made me do." His voice was soft as he ran his lips softly up her neck, still warm and clammy from his touch, to her ear. "I didn't-" He rested his forehead against hers and opened his eyes, strikingly blue in the dim light. "I didn't want this for us. This wasn't supposed to go like this."

The harsh whisper reminded her so much of Chuck that it pulled at what little maternal instinct Blair had left. She brought her hands up to stroke the sides of his face and felt him shiver while she murmured, "it's okay. It's okay."

He turned and kissed the palm of her hand, just like Chuck used to and the subject was dropped. He kissed her quickly on the lips, then her forehead. "Get dressed. You must be starving."

Yes. Her head did feel a little... funny.

* * *

Eric ran from the penthouse. He could still smell the bastard so he must have been there earlier in the day and if he was here, then Blair...

The maid told him the strange, handsome man had taken her purchases with him - were they planning on moving soon? He tracked the scent like a dog, so straight and narrow that he nearly ran into Chuck.

"You know something." The billionaire grabbed him by the arm and he had to resist the urge to shrug him off and send him flying to a wall. He had to remember he was in New York now.

"It's none of your concern, human."

Sookie and Bill rounded up their party and he was growing increasingly frustrated at the blockade of people between him and-

"We're working together on this. Blair needs us." This Serena girl's voice was beginning to resemble the high pitched whine of a golden retriever and he nearly cringed at her plea.

"Come on, Eric. What do you have? You can't do this alone."

He glared at Bill. Eric personally didn't have anything against humans, but could this guy, for once, side with his own kind? "I don't answer to any of you." He sped past them to the door. "None of you deserve her."

He left them with his words lingering around them. Chuck's breath grew hard until it threatened to snap inside him and he hurled the lobby vase toward the wall. Without a word, he left five hundred dollars on the empty center table.

The truth was always difficult to hear.

* * *

He could feel her growing increasingly irate beside him and her ire was beautiful. Her eyes grew hard with hunger and her lips panted a rhythm that beat against his ears. Her hands clenched and unclenched by her sides and he could almost imagine her thoughts. "Just pick one," she finally said through her teeth.

Damon couldn't help but smirk at her impatience. The hunger pains were driving her irritatingly responsible logic to the ground and he loved nothing more than watching her unravel. She looked like she could finish every useless soul in the basement hipster bar.

It was intoxicating.

"Now, now. We don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, do we?" He flagged the bartender and half-heartedly ordered two gin and tonics before he sat on the empty bar stool and pulled her up against him to sit on his knee. His girl growled softly at his indulgent smile before surveying the crowd again.

"If you don't pick someone right now I'm going to start biting you." The salivated tips of her fangs behind his ear made him want to purr and he settled for just holding her closer to him.

"See that couple over that?" He tilted his head toward a blond pair in the corner caught in an intimate embrace. After she had gotten a quick glance, he turned her face back toward him with a hold on her chin. His eyes locked on hers and he imagined. In his mind's eye, he replaced the two with her precious maker and the human who trailed alongside them. With the expansion and shrinking of his pupils, that is how she would see it too. "Doesn't that just piss you off?"

He heard her gasp, loud and sharp that brought the shine of tears stinging to her eyes before she clenched her teeth and stormed out.

With an amused grin, he gave her a head start. He was telling the truth when he didn't want the two of them to be like this. This whole mind manipulation games thing only complicated things down the road, but this one was extra stubborn. Just this one little tweak to get her started and it'll all fall into place. Damon was sure of it.

Fanfiction: The Runaway (8/?)

2009-11-23T15:14:10Z

Title: The Runaway (8/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! There should be a shorter gap between this chap and the next, but in case I get distracted by food (very, very likely), Happy Thanksgiving!

Under the assumption that they couldn't have gone far, the three of them combed through the city for any trace of them. After a dejecting phone call with Sophie-Ann, in which Eric was ordered to keep a better eye on his woman and to cut his impromptu vacation as short as possible, he knew he had no other choice.

"I know you guys don't like us, but really, we're all here for Blair." Sookie's voice had never been more grating than when she was asking his very enemies for help. Eric scowled at Chuck's sneer while Bill and Nate tried to keep the entire situation under control. Sookie just held Serena's hands as they huddled by the couch in the lavish living room of the Van Der Humphreys.

"All right, I've got the pizza, let's get movie night roll- whoa." Dan nearly dropped the boxes he had been carrying above his head in his surprise. "I did not get enough pizza for them too."

Eric had had enough of the human's banal humor and sneered his sizable fangs at him. They were definitely larger than Blair's.

"How do I know that Blair didn't run away again because you treat her poorly? I won't help you make her your prisoner." Even Dan had to admit that Chuck's Batman-like intonations could be admirably menacing when the situation required it.

"Don't speak of things you know nothing of, boy. Just find her and we'll be on our way."

"I'm nobody's slave, vampire."

"Chuck!" Serena finally murmured. "If Blair's in trouble, we have to help her."

"You seriously trust this guy, Serena? Do you not remember the time when he dragged Blair out of her own house?" Nate asked. She sighed. Since becoming involved in the political scene, Nate had become so distrustful, cold and it was only during that brief re-encounter with his first love did he show the signs of warmth and light that used to follow him wherever he went.

"Yes, I really think that he has Blair's best interests in mind - just like us." The three men in her life still looked wary, but she persisted. "Look, if we find her and she tells us this is what she wants, fine. But what if this guy did take her and is like, torturing her or something? We can't just sit here."

"Whoa, wait. Torture?"

"You're late, Humphrey. Stop trying to play catch up," Chuck said as if by complete reflex. He finally looked back at Eric and sighed. "What do you need us to do?"

* * *

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal, Damon. Not to mention, disgusting."

He snapped around, his prey still caught in his hands and his fangs stained with blood from the empty little girl lying on the grass beside them. They were best friends. "Don't be jealous, I said you could have your pick."

"I'm not feeding on defenseless little girls, Damon." She walked over and, with a quick glamor, sent the girl on her way. "There are rules about this kind of thing, you know."

"Oh, get that stick out of your ass, Blair. It's not like she's dead-"

"Yea, because I stopped you!"

"About that." He stepped close to her, his hand brushing down her face. "Don't tell me what to do again, understood?" She made an indignant noise before turning on her heel and walking away. Damon grinned - he never minded a good chase.

She had made it as far as their motel before he caught up with her. Blair, unfortunately, did not have the privilege of walking around under the sun and he was cautious enough to plan their hunts for the night time. "Don't be so stubborn, Blair. Just let loose! You'll enjoy it! Live a little."

"Do you know what they do to vampires who don't follow the rules? As small as they are, I'd prefer to keep my fangs, thank you very much." She dropped her purse to the floor, exhausted, and collapsed on the plush couch in the vacant hotel room they found near Prospect Park. He sat by her, his arm around the back.

"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to those cute little fangs of yours." He leaned in close, his face just inches from hers so that his breath washed over her with his words. "There are no laws here, Blair. This is the wild, wild west, baby and we're the ones with the guns. We can do whatever we want."

And there it was, that coppery hint of sweet, thick blood still lingering in his mouth and it became all too much all at once. Her new status as a vampire brought with her a strong sense of blood lust that had yet to be tamed and as she would with a prey, she leaped upon him, mouth opened and fangs bared.

Even with his back aching on the hard floor, he's not one to back down and Damon wrapped his hand around the back of her neck to bring her down to him. With the offering on his tongue, he tasted her deeply for the first time. Even when she'd taken every last taste she could from him, he couldn't quite let her go and kept his hand wrapped in her curls, the other on her waist.

He wanted to suck the soul out of that sweet little mouth of hers. He would erase every single one of those so called rules that those Southern vampires had etched in her head until she realized that they were on the top of the food chain.

She yanked herself back from him. What was she doing? For a moment, he had been - had tasted mesmerizing. For a moment, kissing him felt right and good. There were no rules, no boundaries and she could take what she wanted. Now, looking at his smug grin, she was disgusted with herself. "Ugh, I hate you!"

She untangled herself from him, pushing off his chest with an embarrassed flush unbecoming of the undead and stormed into her room, making sure to slam the door shut in true Waldorf style. She paced until she could get herself back together, until she stopped shaking with that lust for blood that he had inspired in her. She threw herself against her vanity table, her hands gripping the edge as her headache raged. She stared hard at her reflection until she could calm herself.

Faintly, she could hear that Damon had finally gotten up on the other side of the door. "Women and their mixed signals."

* * *

"So when you were trumpeting to me about how you could protect her, all you have are a few useless private investigators and surveillance? Is that the extent of the so-called Bass Empire?" Eric was getting increasingly frustrated with every piece of useless information he was fed. It had been two days and still, not a trace of his offspring could be found. The only thing they knew for sure was that she was still in the city. Archibald's political connections gained him access to the security tapes on every bridge and tunnel that led beyond the boroughs.

"I don't see you contributing anything, Mr. Big-Shot, so why don't you just go be quiet and useless somewhere else?"

"What did you just say, boy?"

"All right, everyone, calm down." This was the third time that Bill, Nate, and Dan have had to break those two up in one hour. At this rate, all of them were going to end up dead in a month.

"See, this? This is why I wanted to get Blair and get out of here. At least in Louisiana, we have laws, order. This damned city has too many holes and tunnels to govern and you have weasels like Salvatore running around like he owns the damned place." Eric ran a hand down his face in an attempt to wake himself up. The whole situation looked hopeless.

"We didn't know she was in trouble. We've lived here all our lives, we never thought-" Serena burst into tears again. She couldn't help it. Since Eric's arrival, she's had all sorts of crazy mental images of Blair lying in a ditch or sewer somewhere. Since that one time Blair fed on her, she had felt closer to her best friend than she ever had. It was as though every fight they ever had flashed before her eyes, but this time, she saw it all from Blair's point of view and it was enough to make her cry. Sookie stroke her back in comfort and looked helplessly at Bill. Certainly, there must be something they could do.

"Come on, all this arguing isn't going to help us find her. Let's brainstorm. I mean, Eric, what would Godric do?"

Eric sighed and looked out the window, arms crossed. Finally, the sun had set. "He would rip this town apart."

He was gone before anyone else even took a breath.

* * *

Damon watched her sleep. It was the only time he could really look at her without having an acid-lined remark thrown at him.

Not that he didn't enjoy those, of course.

She's a funny girl. Morbidly funny. Once she got used to the fact that she's a predator, she would find him funny too. They were two sides of the same coin.

Sure, she looked like a princess - all delicate and beautiful down to her fingertips, but that made her even more deadly. She was the kind of vampire who could walk through the world getting whatever she wanted, worshiped, adored even as she sucked the life out of some poor bastard. She would be infinitely more powerful than Catherine, maybe even himself if she realized her potential. It was a delicate balance, but if he could just tip her a little over to his favor, they could have a very good thing.

And who said good things didn't last forever?

She scrunched up her nose in her sleep, as though even subconsciously, she disapproved of him. He was getting accustomed to her little idiosyncrasies and he couldn't remember the last time he cared to do so for anyone else. Perhaps Stefan, but the boy's always too busy sulking in one corner or another. It made teasing way too easy.

He watched her feet disappear beneath the blankets as she curled up a little more and smiled at the vampire's childlike habits. He made his calculations - their little tryst last night notwithstanding, Blair hadn't fed for nearly three days. For a baby vampire like herself, that must seem like a lifetime so it shouldn't be too long now.

He kissed her forehead and put on his jacket. Time to pay that rotund maid of hers a visit. She would be wanting those clothes, after all.

Fanfiction: Someday When I Stop Loving You

2009-11-18T16:37:04Z

Title: Someday When I Stop Loving You
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairing: Maureen, Tripp, OC
Rating: PG
Summary: There was no easy way to recover from having your world shatter beneath your feet. Maureen. Tripp. Serena. One-shot

A/N: Can you tell how much I hate this storyline? Team Maureen! Title derived from Carrie Underwood's song of the same title on her new album. I was listening to it when I wrote this up quickly. I usually don't like the style of inserting song lyrics in the middle of stories, but I had to credit it somehow, since it did influence the outcome a lot.

He was her everything.

From the moment she said "I do," Maureen was certain that he was the one. In fact, she had never been more certain and true about anything else in her life. Above her family legacy, her personal problems, there was him. She would do anything for him. For them.

She remembered when the news of Blair and Nate's breakup echoed in whispered tones through gossiping wives. It was a shame - the girl seemed so smitten - but in the end she comforted herself with the fact that perhaps it was just puppy love after all. She and Tripp were nothing like them. They talked about their future all the time. In school, they'd squeeze into the cramped dorm bed and keep warm when the heater broke. They were different.

Turns out they weren't, after all.

One foot on the bus 'bout half past nine,
I knew that you were leaving this time.
I thought about laying down in its path,
Thinking that you might get off for that.

He didn't trust her, it turned out, for a mistake she made for them. But let's be honest, there were signs even before. Serena van der Woodsen was only first girl to act on it. Then she will be the next girl to think that he's the one.

Maureen was never a big drinker, but that night, after she signed away her vows, she drank. Barefoot on the floor with her back against their marriage bed, she drank from the bottle with mascara running down her cheeks. Her maid of honor sat with her. Had it really only been a year? "Get up. You can do better than him."

She lulled her head back against the soft sheets. He made love to her on those sheets.

I remember that night we laid in bed,
Naming all our kids that we hadn't had yet.
One for your grandma and one for mine
Said we'd draw straws when it came time.

"Do you think he's crying and drinking over you right now? Get up."

There was a frustrated sigh and rustling and the next thing she knew, her wedding gown laid gingerly on her bed. Her princess dress, her father had called it. Anna put a pair of scissors in her hand and led the blade toward the chiffon hem. "Rip it."

Her past laid in shreds like fresh snow in the fireplace. It burned like a giant star.

I'll move on, baby, just like you.
When the desert floods and the grass turns blue
When a sailing ship don't need her moon.
It'll break my heart, but I'll get through.
Someday when I stop loving you.

She retreated to her Connecticut home but there was no escaping them. She was prone to dizzy spells as a child but the flash of photographers' bulbs and the yelled questions even as she just tried to get out of the car made it even more difficult to stand tall. Her father's security reinforced the gates but it crept into her home like mist. Pictures of the scandal covered the front pages - Newly Elected Congressman Leaves Wife for 18-year-old Socialite. They always looked like they were hiding: faces down, sunglasses, trench coats. Like their terrible secret was just exposed and now they didn't know what to do.

Good, they didn't deserve to be happy.

I bet all I had on a thing called love.
I gues sin the end it wasn't enough.
And it's hard to watch you leave right now
I'm gonna have to learn to let you go somehow.

She went riding for the first time in ages when the press moved on to focus on the latest Jon and Kate scandal. She crouched on the saddle and prepared for the jump. The landing was shaking, but she was ready now.

And again.

She met Michael at her father's job. She was working in the PR department and he strolled in like he knew everything. Even she believed it. He was older and just a bit wiser with his wild days behind him, leaving laugh lines around his mouth and kind creases around the corners of his green eyes.

The next election rolled around and this time, Nate wasn't there to save the whole thing. Serena had fled two months after the end of their marriage and he was known for his affair more than his politics. The Buckleys reprinted the headlines over and over and suddenly, New York realized that he was just some kid who graduated from law school with no experience except that of being a Vanderbilt and having a pretty face. That and the fact that men cheat. Shocker.

She saw him through the window front of a restaurant. He sat at the bar, his shoulders hunched and looking more defeated than she had ever seen him. His handsome features sullen and his tie loosened, she hardly recognized him through the fog of her breath in the chilled November air.

Michael slipped a hand around her bulging belly and gave her a kiss on the cheek before leading her across the street with a hand on the small of her aching back.

He was nothing to her now.

I'll move on, baby, just like you.
When the desert floods and the grass turns blue
When a sailing ship don't need her moon.
It'll break my heart, but I'll get through.
Someday when I stop loving you.

Someday When I Stop Loving You - Carrie Underwood

Gossip Girls Having Sex in the City

2009-11-18T15:18:36Z

With all this fuckery that is STripp going on, I can't help replaying the Sex and the City scene over and over again. Blair as Charlotte, Serena as Carrie, Tripp as Big, and Maureen as Natasha. It was a good scene (and Charlotte was always my fave). I'm sure I'm missing a few lines here or there, but you get the gist.

Charlotte: He's married, Carrie.
Carrie: I know he's married.
Charlotte: That makes you the other woman, you're the other woman.
Carrie: I'm not the other woman, I'm not. I mean I know I am, but, I'm not that woman.
Charlotte: You ever think about how she'd feel if she found out?
Carrie: Yes, I think about it all the time.
Charlotte: "No you don't "! You think about what will happen to you if she found out. You don't think about her, she's just the idiot wife. You don't know anything about her.
Charlotte: I'm getting married in three weeks how would you feel if somebody did this to me?
Carrie: I would kill them.

But of course, GG's sub-par writing/continuity would never give us a good friendship scene out of this mess.

Fanfiction: The Rose's Ruse (11/?)

2009-11-16T19:15:30Z

Title: The Rose's Ruse (11/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: AU Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairings: Chuck/Blair, Nate, Jenny, Dan, etc.
Rating: M
Summary: Lord Harold Waldorf had fallen out of favor with the temperamental king and was beheaded. His property was split between the king's favorites, one of whom is the infamous Captain Charles Bass. Certainly, the lady of the house will not take this sitting down, or at least without messing with his head a bit.

Blair frowned, her cherry lips pouted as it hadn't done since she was a child. Was she... bad? Charles (yes, Charles) was the one who had all but left his mark on her, and yet he was now acting as though she had contracted some dreadful disease.

Honestly, the way he was acting, one would think that she was the commoner of the pair. Regardless of her family's current financial situation, the Waldorfs still had history. The only history that Charles had was his days of whoring and philandering.

What was the matter with the man?

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of an inn that sat peacefully atop a hill overlooking London's warm lights. She stared out the window at the city she was always forbidden by her father to enter as a child and felt her heart pump with excitement at the very thought that her dainty foot would step upon that soil marked with sin. Her father had warned her of city men - of their lechery and lies and if Charles was any mark of a man, her father was right.

"Why are we stopping, Thomas? We haven't much longer of the road. We could reach the manor before supper if we hurry." Chuck was impatient. She could tell as much by the way his eyes shifted and his knees bumped against the seat.

"Sir, the roads are not safe after nightfall. It was per your request that we only travel by the day for fear of the lady's safety." He finally spared Blair a glance - a glance that made her breath stop yet paralyzed her from looking anywhere else except into his eyes. With a sigh, he tore himself away, departing from the carriage and entering the homely inn without a backward glance. The footman hurriedly came to take her hand to assist her from her seat.

She was certain the scoundrel found her attractive, but now...

She took her supper in her room, not keen on the idea of being judged while she ate or, worse, ignored altogether. The candle in front of the vanity mirror lit up the room and she grasped at the strings of her corset, undoing her dress until she was left in her loose cotton gown. Dorota had long gone to rest in the adjacent room and Blair was left to her own devices to inspect the lines left by the boning of her corset. She lifted the hem to just below her breast and traced a finger down the red mark there. The price of beauty was apparent on her fair skin.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

She quickly lowered the material and turned from her reflection to find her charge standing there, the whole of his weight leaning unsteadily on the door frame. He held a glass of scotch - the kind her father used to drink only on special occasions - and she shivered at the memory of the last time he was consumed with spirits.

"Charles."

He sneered, the candle's shadows performed a menacing dance upon his face. "Don't call me that. My father calls me that." He stumbled into the room and Blair backed away, the material of her dress brushed against the back of her calves as she hit the edge of her bed. "I won't hurt you."

"I think you should leave now, Charles." Her voice was shaky and there was a part of her - the part of her that couldn't control her shaking knees and heated skin - that wanted so desperately for him to stay.

"I said don't call me that!" He threw himself at her and the two fell neatly onto the blankets - one on top of the other. She could feel the warmth from his body through the thin material of his nightgown and the way he pinned her wrists to the soft bedding and held her eyes rendered her speechless. She shivered in the way his broad chest leaned heavily on the soft flesh of her breasts and his weight on her hip. "Are you cold?" His face loomed close over hers, . "I could warm you up."

He grazed his teeth against her earlobe and she gasped, a shuddering, excited gasp that was accompanied by the turn of her head for access. The alcohol was sour on his breath and hot on his skin. She flushed a deep red that spread from her cheek down her pale swan neck. She should have yelled stop or pushed at the very least, but he simply rendered her useless. Her legs hung limp off the side of the bed and her breath came in such short bursts that she was afraid that her entire body would just explode.

He extended her hands above her head, one hand trapping the two dainty wrists while the other slid down the side of her body. She had never felt so self-conscious as she did then, with his intense gaze gauging her every reaction and her traitorous body melting, pliable beneath his teach. "I can certainly warm you up," he whispered against her lips before he claimed them with his own, his tongue staking territory even as she tried to take a breath.

The hand on her knee curled around itself and brought the material, the hem that had skimmed the floor at her ankle, together in his grip. He slid, a rough hand brushing over her soft, pale skin where her thighs faced each other, and marveled at the velvet skin there, even softer than her face. The heel of his palm came to rest in the dusting of curls and he applied pressure just as nipped at her lip.

He wanted in. God, he wanted in and from the groans at the back of her throat, Blair was in no position to object. He could bury himself in her again and again, her breasts weighing down in his hands and her strawberry mouth all over him. He was her master, after all.

And woman. It had been so long since he had his last woman that he painfully ached to press himself inside.

She pushed against him, desire digging its claws into her for the first time and though she was not quite sure what it was that she lusted after, she was certain she could receive it from him. "Charles, please."

Her breathless voice, the way her ivory gown was loose around her shoulder and her lily white legs spread wantonly beneath him; he nearly embarrassed himself in the bedding.

But no, she had said Charles... and he remembered.

He couldn't want her. Not now.

He tore himself away as though she burned him. And she did. Oh how she did. Even as she laid on her bed, confused and immobile, she burned him.

He was certain it was hellfire.

* * *

The next day had been an awkward affair. Blair had spent the entire night agonizing over the heat he had poured over her. The ache between her legs only grew as she thought of him, his tongue rough against her neck and his hands hard and punishing on her hips. Would it not be blasphemy, she would have prayed for him to return to her room to finish what he had began. To save her from this... illness he had inflicted upon her.

So when they boarded the carriage, she sat by Dorota and took extra care to minimize any sort of physical contact with him. Likewise, he did the same.

They stopped before a majestic mansion the likes of which Blair had never seen. It would have easily spanned across her property and then some. There was a man awaiting their arrival, his age similar to her own father and at the thought of him, long-repressed tears misted her eyes. The man took her hand with a kiss as she descended and she recognized him to be Bartholomew Bass, the man who had taken away half of her father's possessions. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Miss Waldorf. Your father was a good man, but I am afraid we are all at the mercy of His Majesty's temper these days. I promise you, as long as you are in London, you are in my care. No harm should come to you."

She nodded. She could not trust herself with the hateful words that threatened to spill trouble before her.

"Father, I am unaccustomed to such a warm welcome."

The older man's face fell sternly and even Blair could feel the tension between the father and son. "Charles, I hope you've done well with the post to which I assigned you. If I hear of even one complaint from Ms. Waldorf, I will not be taking it lightly, do you understand?"

"Yes, father."

Lord Bass gave a curt nod before turning and offering his arm to Blair. "Now you must be exhausted from the journey. Allow me to lead you to your room." Blair spared Chuck a backwards glance as she walked away. She had never seen the lively pirate so put out before and the attention his father lavished on her was laced with guilt.

Perhaps coming to London was a poor decision, after all.

Fanfiction: The Runaway (7/?)

2009-11-16T18:08:58Z

Title: The Runaway (7/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: Things were going good for Eric and Blair for a while, but we all know that, with the introduction of Damon, it couldn't last. Here's the next installment. Thanks for waiting so patiently.

Eric was really starting to hate the bastard's stench. He'd come back with a flustered Bill with barely enough time to shove the stubborn asshole into the hotel before sunrise and the waft of him was overwhelming. Of course, he only came back to find Blair slumped in the shower with the water running cold.

He needed to get out of this fucking city.

The blinds were drawn shut as the three vampires sat in the living room at nine in the morning, wrapping their heads around the situation. Eric looked worriedly at Blair - she hadn't drank anything and shivered like a wet squirrel in that giant bathrobe. He placed a hand on her shoulder only to watch her shrink away.

That bastard was going to pay for this.

"We need a plan," Bill nearly growled. "What else did he say? What do you remember, Blair?" He crouched by her, his grip hard on her knee and shook.

"Hands, Bill." Eric's quiet warning went unheeded until the blonde took him by the back of his collar and dragged him backward. "Scaring the girl won't do you any good, Compton. Especially not with me."

"Sookie is mine, Eric!"

"You think those laws are in place up here? You think if I just go up to this guy, I can tell him I'm a sheriff and he'll just hand Sookie back with a little bow? Use your brain."

"It's better than sitting around and-"

"I have to go." She was so quiet amidst their yelling but they heard her loud and clear and turned. "I have to go to him. With him." She pulled the robe close to her chest, finding little comfort in the action.

"Now hold on one min-"

"If I don't go, he'll kill y-" She looked up finally, her eyes meeting his own in anguish. "Sookie. He'll kill Sookie." The two men were puzzled, and rightfully so. Blair had always been obvious regarding her disdain of the blonde. "He won't do anything to me. I can protect myself, Sookie can't-"

"We'll think of something else. And no, you can't protect yourself against some maniac."

"At least he wouldn't sleep with me then treat me like a child. He wouldn't drag me away from my friends." She bit down on the back of her jaw, her eyes hard as she closed off her still heart. "Maybe I'll be better off. Maybe we'll all be better off."

"What are you saying, Blair?"

"I'm saying." She paused and sighed as though the entire world rested on her shoulders, crushing her lungs. "That I want to go with Damon."

* * *

The ball of tissues were damp in her hand. She wasn't sure she had ever cried this much. "I'm sure he's all right, Blair. Probably just wandering around the hotel somewhere. Pissed, but fine." Bill looked exhausted as well - between looking for and worrying about Sookie and her spat with Eric, he was spreading himself thinner than usual.

"I know. I would know if he- if he-" Another rush of tears fell and Bill handed her another tissue and sat by her.

"You knew how he'd react." He motioned at the door his boss had burst through over two hours ago. "If you're worried about him, why would you tell him you wanted to go with this man?"

She sniffled, her nose red and her puppy eyes in full effect as she looked at Bill. Bill, who had been like an older brother the whole time, who had the loyalty of a golden retriever, who was now patting her head in an awkward attempt to comfort her. "Can you keep a secret?" She knew he would. He nodded. "If I don't g-go with Damon. He'll kill Eric."

Bill drew his hand back, the fear so honest in her eyes that he recoiled. It was difficult to imagine much that could destroy a vampire as powerful as Eric. "Blair, that's Eric's decision to make. He knows what he can take."

She shook her head, chestnut strands flying in every and each direction. "No, no you don't understand. He has this ring, this special ring. He can step in sunlight and- and he could set Eric on fire as easily as you would an ant. I can't lose him but if I told him, he would never back down and I can't- I can't lose him." She looked at Bill fully now. "You can't tell him. You just can't."

Bill took her hand in his and swallowed. He was already feeling guilty about not being able to fulfill that promise.

"When Sookie comes back here, pack up and leave. Forget about me. Forget about all of this. You two have Sookie to fight over. It shouldn't be too hard."

* * *

"I'm going now." He had been staring at the same spot for three hours. Since Eric came back from wherever he was, in one piece without any burns, much to their relief, he was silent and would just stare at a corner of the rug. "I'll make sure Sookie gets back here okay." She held the small traveler's bag in her hand by the door and kept her reactions neutral. Finally, she sighed. "Can you just come over here and kiss me goodbye?"

Nothing. About as much as she meant to him, she supposed.

She sighed and took the initiative as she always did in their relationship. She bent over his chair and kissed his forehead. "Bye, Eric." She hugged Bill and gave him a meaningful look before heading into the cold hallway. The park was four blocks away and it was already 11:45.

"You need to go after her." Bill sat across from his sheriff, not even bothering to attempt to catch his eye. The girl was gone and he could break his silence.

"I can't keep running after her, Bill. Unlike you, I'm nobody's lap dog."

"You know this guy can't be good news."

"You gotta let your kids go some time."

"Yea, but she's not a kid. You love her." Eric glared at him. It wasn't his proudest moment, losing his own offspring, his lover, to some young whelp. It hurt more than he had thought and remembered why it was never a good idea to actually like the thing you're sleeping with.

"That's all over, Bill. From now on, I go back to who I was and she leads her own life. Just like the bitch wanted."

Bill sighed. They were both stubborn bastards were what they were. Complete pains in his ass. "She did it for you."

"Right, before she wanted to set me free, blah all that love crap."

"No, I mean, she did it to save your life."

* * *

Even for a vampire, he was fast and quiet. A born killer. "You look beautiful under the moon."

She turned and glared at him. Stunning as he was, he had ruined everything. "Where's the girl?"

He put a hand to his chest and fell back in jest. "Do you not trust me, Blair?"

"Of course I don't."

He grinned. "Smart girl." He gestured to a bench behind him and she peeked to see a small blonde tied down by ropes and a gag. That was one way to keep her quiet, she supposed. "Now, are you ready to come conquer this city with me?"

"I didn't come here for you."

"Ah, of course. They always come for the damsel in distress." He bent over to the level of her ear. "But they always stay for the devil."

* * *

"You couldn't tell me all of this sooner?" Eric growled, his form hardly casting a shadow under the streetlights as he sprinted. "When we get back to Louisiana, I will kill you."

"She made me promise not to say anything." Bill knew there was no winning when he was stuck in an argument between the two of them.

"She's two! Why would you listen to a two-year-old vampire?"

They ran into the clearing surrounding the fountain and stared up at the stone angel for an instant while they listened to the still silence of the park.

Breathing.

They ran in the direction of the nearly wheezing breath only to find a petite blonde stumbling towards them. Bill caught her in his arms. "Sookie, are you all right?"

"They're gone," she gasped. "Blair and Damon, they're gone."

Fanfiction: La Fille du Rêve

2009-11-16T03:36:28Z

Title: La Fille du Rêve
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Pairing: Blair/Tripp
Rating: PG
Summary: A drabble, slight confrontation between the two regarding what's going on in the *sigh* show.

A/N: I know Serena/Tripp is all the rage now, but I can't help it. I shipped Blair/Tripp since before I even heard he was coming back on the show and I will continue to do so even if STripp ends up married or something. Here's a drabble of what could have been. Enjoy.

"Stay away from Serena. What you're doing, it's not good for either of you." She slid like a dream onto the bar stool beside him. He closed his eyes to smell her perfume.

He raised a hand at the bartender and ordered her a martini. He was no billionaire, but he could still buy her a drink, right? "We're just working together."

"Right. That's why you hired a high school graduate for a job that people go to college for. Serena's my best friend, but don't insult my intelligence by trying to convince me that she's remotely qualified for the job." Her lips made a pale pink impression on the rim of the glass and he wanted to lock it in a glass box.

"She's learning." A curl fell to the front of her bare shoulder and his eyes trailed down her dress. She looked good in red.

"She's a girl with a crush on a married man and you're no better by encouraging her."

It's true. Serena was beautiful - obviously so. She was uncomplicated and conventional and he knew he would just be a stop along the way. She was the very opposite of her best friend, who was an acquired taste but one that lingered on your tongue even long after it's all over. Blair was the wine you ached for - that one glass you had at a friend's house that you could never find again and every time you take a drink, all you could think about was her and you would try every other wine to wash out the taste.

"So stop it. Stop it before this ruins her. Stop it before this ruins your marriage." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Jesus, Tripp. You've barely been married for a year and you're already- is that how quickly you jump from woman to woman? You're Nate's cousin, after all." She ran her scarlet fingertips down the neck of the glass and he remembered a time not too long ago, maybe two or three years, when he had stolen a kiss right when she was doing the same thing.

Mistletoe in his pocket.

"Depends on the woman." He reached out to curl his fingers around hers and for a moment, she held on like she used to. "I've missed you, Blair."

He sounded broken even to himself and she looked at him for the first time that night, her eyes just as dark as the first time they met. He had never wanted so badly to kiss anyone.

"You're married now, Tripp, and I'm no Serena. I won't be the Marilyn to your Kennedy and I won't be your mistake either." She pat their entwined hands lightly before sliding off as gracefully as she had appeared. "Have a nice life."

He turned his head to watch her walk away, her hips swaying in her red dress and wondered if she were ever really here. It wasn't uncommon - she had appeared to him in dreams before. But there it was, that little rim of condensation of the bar and the glass beside it with the stain.

He took the half empty martini and brought it to his lips, carefully turning it so he could taste her lipstick with the gin, and downed the whole thing. He would have this, at the very least.

Fanfiction: The Runaway (6/?)

2009-11-11T15:39:23Z

Title: The Runaway (6/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: Sorry for the late update. I promise I haven't forgotten you guys, just had a bit of a temperature. Hope you guys enjoy the chap!

"So what are we doin' tonight?" Sookie asked right before she shoved a spoonful of Chinese takeout into her mouth. "I've never been to New York before." She smiled at Bill like a little girl playing house and Blair nearly choked on her Tru Blood.

Instead, the brunette resigned to sighing and rolling her eyes. Tourists. "We are not doing anything. I, on the other hand, have to pick up a few things from Dorota at the penthouse."

"A few things? I guess I should bring a cart to help carry the spoils of your little virtual shopping trip today. I hope you got something for Pam." Her face went white. Did Eric hear her brief interlude with Damon from late afternoon? What if he managed to seek him out? "Relax, I'm sure Pam won't be too upset. She might steal your clothes though."

She let out a nervous laugh. "Oh I didn't get too much. I'll be fine on my own."

Eric narrowed his eyes. There was something... off about her tonight. Her shoulders were squared tense and she avoided his eyes. And there she went with the "on her own" again. Didn't she know that didn't exist anymore? He didn't appreciate being shoved aside. "I insist," he bit out. His tone let the rest of them on to the fact that this was not up for discussion.

"Well, I think we should go to Times Square. You know, see the lights."

Blair shot off like the gunfire of a fugitive backed into a corner. "Sookie, Times Square is for tourists who don't know better and Eric, you can't come because Dorota doesn't like you."

"Everyone likes me."

Bill snickered and Blair sent him an appreciative glance. The two, at the very least, had an understanding and having coexisted peacefully for the past two years, formed a camaraderie between them. She hated being alone.

Besides, Eric hated it.

"You went caveman and threw me over your shoulder. Dorota hates you."

He cursed under his breath. "When I was a human, women were-" The rant sprouted off into old Swedish and Bill and Sookie took this as their sign to head out. Bill clapped her over the shoulder in moral support, but knew there was little he could do, and she patted his hand lightly in return.

He came to a pause to catch his breath, his pacing stopped as he turned to look at her. One day he'll get used to the fact that she had no idea what he was talking about when he did that. "If you're done being uber-Viking, I'll be heading out now." She picked her bag up off the floor and opened the door.

He slammed it shut with his weight leaning on the palm of his hand, his breath in her hair. "You're not going out there alone, Blair."

"I'll be fine, Eric. I'm not a child."

He brushed her hair to one side of her shoulder and kissed the skin that he bared. She sighed and leaned her head back against him, desire pooling in her lower body as he surrounded her with his strong arms and large hands. "You're not a child, no." He pressed one hand against the side of her cheek and turned her face to him. "But you're mine." He nipped lightly at her bottom lip and, at the moan, grasped her hips tightly against him. "All mine."

Not for the first time, Eric revelled in the perfect curvature of her body. He slammed the two of them against the wooden door and felt the curve of her spine and her ass against his front. He pressed his groin hard against her, all the while biting and licking the shell of her ear and listening to her gasps roll over him. His hands roamed from the small of her waist to the flare of her hips before his fingertips dug hard into the flesh, strangling a choked moan from her throat.

The sound was enough to elicit his fangs and he half dragged her from the door and draped over the back of the small couch, her face muffled by the cushion of the back. He bent over her, hot kisses trailing down her back as he unzipped her out and lifted her just enough so that the upholstery wouldn't dig into her stomach. The arm trailed down the front and up her skirt until he felt her hot beneath his fingers, wanting.

With a degree of savagery the likes of which he had never exercised with her - not even when he turned her - he ripped off the lace underwear and buried himself into her from behind, the force of the push nudging the couch a few inches forward. He kept one hand on her hip to keep his rhythm, the other reached for her breast and rolled the bud between his thumb and forefinger just enough to push her over the edge with a silent scream.

Her pale back bore the angry red marks of his fangs when he kissed her and he smiled down proudly, tracing the lines with his fingers even as she moaned in sync with his thrusts. He leaned over her again and, with a handful of her dark curls, turned her just so to feel the warm silk of her tongue against his.

Yes, she was all his.

* * *

Her entire body ached. Muscles she didn't even know she had yelled at her with painful nerves shocked to her brain.

But fuck if she cared.

Her breath was ragged as she laid on the couch he had so gingerly placed her on after he himself had recovered. "Bill is not going to be happy when he finds that we just... in the common area."

His words were hot on his ear. "Fuck Bill." He sat by her, his hands gently massaging her thin fingers.

"Poor guy, he's going to smell me all over this couch for a week," she groaned.

"Lucky bastard he is, then." He placed a kiss on the palm of her hand before pushing her hair back from her face. "You still need to go pick those things up?"

Her eyes snapped open and her mind flew out of the sweat-glistening euphoria she had been temporarily under. She had forgotten all about that - both Dorota and Damon. She knew he couldn't be far; she could feel it in her bones. Feel him in her bones.

God, how awful she must be to think about this while Eric was being the man she always wanted him to be.

She shook her head. She wasn't going to let anyone ruin this for her. Not anymore. "Dorota can wait." She kissed him again, rolling off the couch and onto him until all she could think of was him.

Except those startling blue eyes. She couldn't forget his eyes staring at her through the lens.

* * *

Bill burst through the door and Eric couldn't cover Blair's nude form fast enough with the thin hotel sheet. "Is that the Southern chivalry I hear so much about, Compton?"

"Sookie - Sookie's gone. Someone took her."

In her sleepy haze, she could hear the rustling fabric and blurred voices. She couldn't hear a word until Eric crouched beside the bed, a hand shaking her shoulder softly. "Bill and I are going out to investigate this. I need you to stay here, all right? Don't open any doors, windows. Don't talk to anyone you don't know. We'll be back as soon as we can. If you get hungry, there's Tru Blood in the living room. I don't want you to leave this room, do you understand?"

"Lemme come with you," she murmured softly. Her limbs moved languidly beneath the sheets as she struggled to gain full consciousness.

Eric chuckled. "No, kitten. If you come with us then I'll just end up worrying about you. Also, you need your rest. We'll be back before sunrise." He kissed her on the temple and smoothed her hair back. He made to stand but she managed to reach out a hand behind his neck to pull him in for a proper kiss goodbye. "Be safe, Blair."

"You too." She heard their footsteps, then the closing of the door.

It may have been an hour or maybe two later. She blinked awake with the chill of night air on her shoulder and he stood there by her bed, the moon casting his face in shadows. She brought the blanket tighter around her body to keep out the cold and hide herself from his unwavering gaze and teasing smile. "You didn't come to the penthouse. I missed you."

"I don't know you." She reached for her discarded nightgown from beneath the sheet and put it on, protecting her modesty as much as she could.

He tilted his head when she was dressed. "What a shame."

"What are you doing - how did you get in here?"

"It's much easier to break in than your penthouse apartment, that's for sure. But I guess your maker didn't think this whole thing through." He sat on her bed, the one she shared with Eric, and twirled his finger around a lock of her hair. "He's not much of a thinker, is he?"

"No, he's more of a do-er. And when he finds out you're in here, he'll rip you to pieces."

He scrounged up his face in the annoying way that Chuck used to when he was being sarcastic. "I don't think he will. Let's call it a hunch."

Then she remembered. Sookie. "What did you do?"

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You sound like my brother already." He turned back to her and ran the back of his index finger down a smooth cheek. "You really are lovely. Too bad I didn't get to turn you myself. Some guys get all the luck." He tracked her Snow-White red bottom lip with his thumb and gave an eye-crinkling smile when her fangs grew. "We could have so much fun, the two of us."

She didn't like the way he made her feel. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and curl up in a ball like she used to as a little girl and pretend the monster didn't exist. She was older now, though, and feigned nonchalance. "I'm not interested."

He regarded her for a moment, serious, before that wolfish grin reappeared. "I think you're an excellent liar, Blair." He tilted in for a kiss and it was over before she could stop him, but his taste lingered on her skin. Even as she tried to shake herself out of it, he stood as though nothing had happened. "Tell you what. The annoying Southern belle is safe for now, but I'll be back tomorrow night and we can have a little exchange. Meet me by Bethesda at midnight in Central Park."

Blair swallowed hard, her eyes wavering under his. "Eric will never go for it."

"Yes well, where is he now? Saving you from the big bad wolf or out there looking for that little blonde chit? But then you would know all about waiting around, wouldn't you Blair?" She recognized him in herself. The man knew where to hit to make it hurt then twist in the knife. "I'll see you tomorrow, doll."

"I'm not your doll!" It was a last ditch effort to maintain some dignity in her position, and he turned back from the door.

"Not yet."

"Not ever." She grasped at the sheets that pooled at her waist until her knuckles turned white.

"I'm a lot more fun than that old coot, you know. I would let you do whatever you want. You would know what it's like to be a real, free vampire. Hellraising powers and all. You can rule this city again. Be queen."

"I have a queen." A queen who was going to be very upset that she ran.

"Come on, Blair. We both know you're not the kind to walk in the shadows." He leaned in to kiss her again, but with her own speed, she threw herself off the bed to the lounge chair on the side. He gave a sneer at the sting of her rejection, but stood and straightened out jacket. "Well, just so you know, your Eric won't be able to do much for you."

"I love him." And it was the steadiest voice she had ever used. The declaration scared even herself - she had never admitted it aloud before. She watched his face harden and his left eyebrow twitched before he calmed himself.

"Love won't save him from the glorious sun, now would it? And yet, I am perfectly free to just wander into any room he's sleeping in and just open the blinds. I can just as easily make the choice for you, Blair." She sat, frozen and more helpless than she had ever felt since she had turned. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Blair."

She wished it would never come.

Fanfiction: The Runaway (5/?)

2009-11-02T20:00:06Z

Title: The Runaway (5/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: R for now
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: It was inevitable, kids, that this story would change to an NC-17/R rating. Sorry if this alienates anyone. I hope y'all hang on with me on this! Also, I'm so pleased with the positive response I've been getting about Damon. Indeed, he is around to shake things up :).

"Who the hell was that?"

Bill and Eric walked back over with the purpose of two FBI agents, their footsteps heavy on the marble floor. She shrugged and kicked the loudmouth before she said anything. "Well?"

"Nobody." The blonde seemed to have gotten her message. "But I think we should leave now."

"I wish we could." Eric ran a hand down his face, exhausted.

"Apparently all the remaining seats were bought out by a Mr. Chuck Bass for the next week." Bill wanted to laugh. Finally someone bested Eric Northman. He needed to be knocked down a peg or two and to be honest, he always had a soft spot for the rich little girl who stumbled into Louisiana. Even Eric had to smile at the way her face lit up at the prospect of staying another week.

"We could always rent a car. I'm guessing the little bastard didn't buy up the entire automotive industry."

"Oh, but can't we stay? Just for a week? I'll have Dorota make up the guest rooms and-"

"No." He took her hand and she stood, leaning against him all the while. "First, we're going to get some blood in you. Then we're finding a hotel. I'll give you this little vacation, but I don't want you getting used to the idea that this is home for you. It isn't anymore."

It was a small victory, but Blair would take what she could get. She nodded and followed him out the door into the night. She leaned her head back, her eyes sweeping behind her in search of the stranger.

No stranger - Damon.

She had a feeling they would meet again soon.

* * *

"Tell me the truth." Shirtless Eric was a sight to behold. He was the stuff romance novel covers and Fabio were made of. The curtains were drawn and in the dim bedside table light, he nearly looked harmless.

Famous last words.

"You're going to have to be more specific, Eric. You know lying is my favorite hobby."

She crawled into the space beside him, her white cotton night gown blended perfectly with the low thread count hotel sheets. He reached out and turned off the light before wrapping an arm around her waist. She went willingly to him and settled against his chest. "Not to me. You don't lie to me." His voice was soft and he kissed her on the forehead. She could almost imagine that they were married. "Now tell me who that man was."

"What man?" She feigned ignorance, her eyelids heavy with sleep. "Can't we talk about this later?"

"The man at the station and no." He gripped her hand hard to enough for his nails to draw blood. "I can smell him on you." He bared his fangs when he brought her wrist to his face, the smell of her blood arousing him as it always did. "Now tell me what that vampire wanted."

Blair swallowed the tension she felt from his eyes bearing hard into hers. Eric rarely reacted with the calm fury he was displaying now. She chose her words carefully. "I don't know. He just introduced himself."

"What else? What was his name?" She was entranced by the way the flat of his tongue felt rough as he licked at the dark red trail against her pale skin. She felt all the resistance drain out of her and licked her lips at the sight of his eyes on her.

"He just told me to call him if I wanted to get away. He said his name was Damon Salvatore."

He turned her so that her back was against him, an arm curled across her neck so that the white flesh of his forearm was just within reach. He pressed his lips against the back of her neck and nodded his permission. She sunk her small teeth in and took a bite and a lick. He shuddered against her and she sighed as she felt his life course through her veins. "You won't though, will you? You belong to me. You can't leave me. I won't let you."

He turned her back around, his mouth open against hers, his tongue running along the ridges of her teeth as he breathed her in. It was the moment Eric feared loss. He held her in his arms but it wasn't quite enough. It was never enough. If that Damon ever even attempted to... he would rip him open with his bare hands and show him his own heart.

Her hands, like all of her, were small and soft against his chest and it made him feel his heart like he hadn't in a thousand years. It made him want to take her inside himself so that they will never part again. It wasn't like this before - no, he could leave for his assignments and know that she would be waiting when he returned. The seed of doubt, however, had been planted and for the first time, he realized she was her own vampire.

She could live without him.

But wasn't that what he always wanted? For each and every vampire to be able to take care of and defend himself? Wasn't that why he starved himself from her for so long, watching from the shadows even as she struggled for a grasp on her new reality?

In the end, it was probably better for her to not get too attached. At the moment, however, now that he had her all to himself again, he made a split-second decision to be selfish.

Her hair fanned out behind her and she was an angel who had fallen straight into his arms. Her scent thrilled him and when he pressed her against the bed, his grip strong on her bare thigh, he paused to smell her again, to brush her hair back from her face. Her chest rose to meet his before he buried himself in her and knew that he could never lose her to anyone else. She was the reward for his suffering and he would have her and keep her. Always.

He heard her gasp beneath him, her fangs bared and her legs wrapped tight around his waist. This was what a real woman felt like - warm and soft with a perfect contrast between light and dark in her features. He plunged into her again, his body covering her own petite frame entirely and she sighed, a butterfly landing of a sigh before she arched herself against him with her nails grasping at the skin at his back. He grabbed a hand and, on his tongue, tasted the slightest tinge of his own blood on the tip of her nails. Just enough for him to let go and collapse on top of her.

She let out a soft snore against him, her arms still around his waist and her forehead against his chest. He dragged the sheet up to cover them and closed his eyes. He would sleep well today.

* * *

It happened. The smile was stuck on her face when she first woke and she flushed red at the sensation of his body against hers. It finally happened. If she had known that's all it took, she would have run away much sooner. She peeked over his shoulder - his strong, broad shoulders - to see the clock flash 4:00 pm in bright red. Even with the few hours of sleep, she felt restless as she looked at him, the lines of his face so familiar to her now that she could see him with her eyes closed.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek only to have him groan and bat her away in his sleep. She rolled her eyes - what a man move. Still, she found even that endearing. She clutched the blanket close to her chest before lowering herself again to nip lightly on his neck. "You hungry?" he murmured out, sleep heavy in his voice.

"No." She giggled, the first time in a long time she had done that in his presence and it went straight to his heart. His hand settled perfectly at the curve of her waist and pulled her close. "I just wanted to do it again."

His mouth cracked open in a grin at her direct response and he lifted her on top of him, her front covered in the long white sheet and her bare legs straddling him. He stroked her hip lightly, his thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles on the velvet skin. "You're beautiful."

She bent over to kiss him, feeling his fatigue and forgiving him just this once. "You're only realizing this now?" She nuzzled his nose and the ends of her hair tickled him before she sat upright again. "Go back to sleep. I'm going to the living room for a sec. I'm taking your computer with me." She tied the sheet around her under her arms, her hair still mussed and her lips swollen, and hopped off to the desk with a gentle smack on her pert little bottom from him. She kept one hand against her chest to hold up the sheet and tucked his mini laptop under her other arm before tip-toeing out and closing the door gently behind her to the small living room that joined their bedroom with that of Bill and Sookie.

In the few minutes before sleep overtook him once more, his mind was filled with that girl. The girl who was brought before him for sacrifice with her perfect, milky skin, tempting ruby lips and dark chocolate curls. The girl who clutched to him when she first woke up as his and nuzzled her nose against his own.

She was the best thing he had ever done.

* * *

"No, Dorota! Why do you want me to look like a heroin-chic, unemployed, self-proclaimed bohemian homeless Brooklyn hipster?" She whispered harshly into the headset she now donned in the single blue light from the computer screen in the living room. She watched through the monitor as the maid hastily returned a paisley silk tunic back to the rack, her white apron brushing against the next row of dresses. "Now, at two o'clock, there is a red/brown duo-tone, fitted sheath dress. What kind of fabric is it?"

She saw through the lens placed in the middle of Dorota's sunglasses that the fabric was retained a floral pattern from threads a shade darker than the fabric. "Is feel of cotillion dress, Ms. Blair." Blair watched as Dorota's hands smoothed over the dress reverently.

"Ugh, who in their right mind would make red and brown brocade? Go ahead to Marc Jacobs next door, Dorota. There's nothing for us here." As she watched her walk through the glass doors to the next destination, Blair clicked over to the other window she had open. Bloomingdale's. Dorota needed a new jacket. What size was she again?

As she input her credit card information, she heard a man's voice stop her. "I hope you're not cheating on Vanya, Dorota," she said casually in a sing-song voice. "You don't want it to get around the servants' rumor mill."

"Actually, Ms. Waldorf - Blair, do you mind if I call you Blair? - I was looking for you." It was that voice - that arrogant, self-assured intonation that made Blair snap her attention back to the live-stream camera, Dorota's present temporarily forgotten.

"It's you."

He grinned and the corners of his bright blue eyes crinkled beautifully. "I'm pleased that you remember me. And surprised that your guard dogs haven't come to your rescue yet."

Then she noticed - the way the sun reflected off the shine of his black hair and cast a shadow under his chiseled jaw. "But how-?"

"Am I not bursting into flames? Special ring - it's a long story. I'm a bad example - don't step into the sun for my sake. And as far as hearing you through those headphones - well, you know how sensitive our ears are. I guess that explanation is mostly for dear Dorota's benefit."

"I shouldn't be talking to you." Her eyes flitted to the door of the bedroom she shared with Eric and bit down on her bottom lip. "Let's go, Dorota." She watched the maid scurry away from the stranger but could still feel the goosebumps on her skin from that surprise meeting. Something told her that it wasn't a surprise for him at all.

"I'll see you soon, Blair. As charming as Dorota is, the proxy thing doesn't do it for me."

When Dorota turned her head, his blue eyes were looking straight at her and, much to her dismay, the blush crept up her neck and blossomed on her cheeks. She was going to have to watch out for this one.

Fanfiction: The Runaway (4/?)

2009-10-30T20:55:49Z

Title: The Runaway (4/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: PG-13 for now
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N:Thanks for the feedback, guys! Here's a little pre-Halloween treat! Hope everyone has a nice, safe holiday :).

She rose slowly to her feet and her friends followed suit, wary of the intruder. Eric had always exuded power, even if his beauty was not to everyone's taste. "How did you find me?"

"I already told you, Blair. Louisiana got both electricity and internet a long time ago."

Serena came up behind her and grasped her hand, warm and comforting. "Blair, is this-"

"This is Eric." Her trembling bottom lip made it difficult to talk. It shouldn't be like this. How did he-

He was in front of them before she even had time to blink her eyes, Serena's free hand in his and brought to his lips. "Her maker. And you, lovely, are..."

"Serena. Serena van der Woodsen."

"Ah, that's quite a beautiful name. Just rolls off the tongue. Serena van der Woodsen," he replied, her name like a caress in the softness of his voice. "Blair has told me much about you. Right, Blair?" He turned his gaze back to her and she felt like that newborn vampire again. Lost, frightened.

Obedient.

She shook it all off. She was Blair Waldorf. In New York. The world couldn't touch her. "What are you doing here, Eric?"

He strolled toward her, his boots heavy on her carpeted floor. His hand brushed her cheek and cupped the side of her face, his fingertips just touching her hair. "I'm here to bring you home, of course." He was gentle, as he always was with her, and kissed her on her forehead. Even through the gesture though, she could feel his ire and was paralyzed by it.

"She is home." Nate always believed himself to be the righteous prince, but he never had the armor. Still, it didn't stop him from running his mouth.

What did stop him were the fangs Eric flashed at him.

And, in turn, what stopped Eric were Blair's small hands on his arm, her soft voice in his ear. "I want to stay."

He retracted his fangs and just then, she was his baby again. His little beauty who needed him with that low whine and big, watery eyes with that peachy, mesmerizing pout. He cupped her chin with one hand and caught her eyes with his watery blues. "You know you can't, babe. I'm sorry."

"Just for a little while longer?"

"I can't protect you here. I have no authority-"

"We can protect her." Chuck stepped forward, nudging a stricken Nate. "I own entire blocks of this city. We can protect her."

"Yea." Nate broke out of his reverie. "My family can-"

"Oh please, human. You can hardly protect yourself from her if she chooses to hurt you."

"But I wouldn't-"

"You can't stay here." It hurt. It hurt like hell that she so despised the idea of leaving with him. What was so great about these little dirt monkeys she hung around with in this city? The streets smelled like rotten garbage and urine and the relationships, like their people, were so fluid that nothing lasted.

The two of them? They were forever.

"Come on, let's go." He led her gently by her wrists, tiny and delicate in his hands. He could snap her neck if she wanted to - all their necks, really - and she knew as much.

But still, the caged bird fought.

She twisted her hands away from him and backed up until she collided with Chuck and Nate beside a stunned Serena and a silent Dan. "I said, I'm not going with you."

"Don't make me ask twice, Blair."

"I can take care of myself." She shrunk back into the comfort of her friends - the very antithesis of her words.

And he was in front of her, had thrown her over his shoulder and made it back to the doorway of her room before the rest of them even took a breath. "This is for your own good," he said softly in response to the small fists pounding on his back. "Gentlemen, lady."

"Blair!" The boys held Serena back as she reached for her best friend and Blair only sighed when she saw that fighting was useless. She caught Chuck's eye for a moment and said what she couldn't say before.

Goodbye.

* * *

"How did it g- oh." Sookie set down the cup of tea that Dorota had brought her and stood from the plush couch on which she'd been resting her back. All those hours of traveling on the stiff train interior was not good for any human's back.

"You brought her?" Blair's muffled voice came through and Sookie flushed red - it was no secret that Blair wasn't exactly fond of her. Neither of them ever really saw eye-to-eye, but Sookie forgave her. She was just a little girl with a crush.

It didn't stop her from being positively everywhere though. "You put her down this instant, Eric." He barely spared her a glance as he passed the foyer and headed toward the elevator.

"Ms. Blair!"

"Dorota!" Seeing the maid, the woman who had been with her through her entire human life, seemed to have put some fight back into her. She grasped at the woman running toward them, kicking and reaching for the one who had always been there for her to lavish her with attention.

"That is no way to treat lady, Mister. Please put her down now." Even now, with a broom waving wildly in her hand, she retained her manners.

"Yes, Eric, put me down, I can walk." The thundering footsteps came from the stairs and suddenly, it felt like the entire world was against him. Yelling and clutching at every bit of him until he tore to pieces.

It felt familiar.

But even her? His own offspring?

"Enough!" He turned her forward so he could cradle her small body to his and see her face, that beautiful, perfect face that he could hardly ever stay angry at. "If I put you down, will you promise to behave?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" His girl was smart. He placed her on her feet, but kept a hand at the small of her back.

"Say goodbye to your friends, Blair."

She bit her lip and walked toward them, defeated, and fell into Serena's embrace. "I'll miss you." Each got a hug - even Humphrey and a shaking Dorota who wanted to go with Ms. Blair.

And Chuck simply wouldn't let go.

Her face was pressed against his shoulder, his nose buried against her neck as his arms remained tight around her. "I'm sorry I left you alone before, but stay. Stay and I promise-"

"I can't," she whispered and her arms fell to her side. He grasped her forearms and held her at arms length. A hand came up to cup her cheek softly.

"I don't care what this guy says, I can protect you. I'll hire the best bodyguards, build you a castle with a fucking moat if that's what it takes. Whatever you want, okay? Just don't leave again. Don't leave where we can't find you." It was the softest kiss she had ever received from him. He just landed like a snowflake and melted into her memory.

Her eyes were closed even as Eric dragged her toward the elevator again with a flexed jaw just holding himself back. "Oh, but that was so sweet." He was tempted to leave Bill and Sookie here.

But like he said, he could never quite shake those two.

* * *

The station buzzed with weary travelers waiting to board a red-eye track. Random silhouettes against the walls of the large, echoing hall and they sat in the middle. Sookie uncrossed and crossed her legs again, her eyes glued to the crouched back of the brunette girl practically radiating desperation.

"Don't worry. Eric's just upset because you left without sayin' anythin'. I'm sure if you ask nicely in a few weeks-"

"You are not talking to me right now." Blair buried her face in her hands, the joy and energy from briefly rejoining her past life completely drained out of her. She had made a mistake two years ago and she never saw it so clearly as she did now.

Eric didn't love her. Not the way she wanted him to. No, she wasn't the delicate ray of sunshine he wanted. She wasn't her. Was this how she was going to spend all of eternity? Chasing after men she couldn't have and covering her face from the ones he wanted? And now, she lost New York.

New York. The city she lived and breathed was out of reach for her now. She couldn't stand in front of Tiffany's with her croissant and coffee or scowl at bike messengers that clip her dress just so to make the hem fly up in the air. She couldn't turn on the front steps of Constance and look for Nate smiling at her from the other side of the courtyard or watch out for Chuck's limo after stepping out of a church.

She would even settle for living in Brooklyn right about now.

"I'll go see what's taking Eric so long. The two of you stay here. Don't talk to anyone. Blair, I would advise against running." She scowled again at Bill before watching him approach one of the counters, wishing desperately that he would have taken Sookie with him.

"Don't say anything. We're just going to sit here in silence while I enjoy my last few moments here. At home. Where I belong." She cringed at the thought of returning to Louisiana. Sure, they people were nice enough, but they were almost too nice. It was like being surrounded by a thousand Serenas and she felt more evil and manipulative than ever. That's what attracted her to Eric in the first place. He was different - cunning, smart, powerful.

It's why he was worthy to be her maker. She could smell the power on him.

"You know, when I was tracking down the vampire feeding in my new territory, I wasn't expecting to find a beautiful young lady."

He was stunning - a nearly perfect cross between Chuck's dark handsome features and Nate's chiseled jawline and bright blue eyes. Unlike either of them, though, he carried an air of nonchalance in his stance - the way he kept his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his feet casually apart and the wry smile playing at his lips. He was intimidatingly beautiful.

"Damon Salvatore, pleased to make your acquaintance." He brought her hand to his lips and lingered. There was nothing soft about him.

She cleared her throat, never one to be intimidated. She was still in New York, after all, and here, she was queen. "Blair Waldorf." She felt Sookie tug nervously at her sleeve. As she should. It was about time that she remembered her place.

"Blair Waldorf." She looked up at him from her seat, at his lazy smile revealing a hint of teeth and the eyes that strayed to her lips. "You don't look like you want to be here, Blair Waldorf."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that you have good taste in clothes." He looked over and spared Sookie a glance. "And bad taste in company."

"I suggest you leave us alone." Sookie was red with anger and embarrassment, but she could see how enchanting the boy could be for a girl like Blair. "Her maker is right over there and I dare say he is a million times more powerful than you. He's a sheriff."

"This ain't no small town, doll. We don't play by rules." He turned his attention back to Blair. "When you're sick of your babysitters and you're ready for some real fun, give me a call."

"How-"

"I'll know." And he was gone, leaving only the trail of his promises lingering behind him. Promises that she could stay here with her friends. Forever.

Damon Salvatore. Her heart leaped at the thought of his name. Perhaps she may be a little fickle, but she did have all of eternity to keep herself busy.

Halloween... at the office

2009-10-30T19:26:33Z

Shenanigans in an open office with no walls in which I am a kitten:

Me: Hey Allix, pin the tail on the Jessica. (walks over with tail and safety pin)

Angie: This looks very inappropriate from my angle.

*2 minutes later*

Me: You know, the longer this takes, the more inappropriate it looks.

Allix: I'm sorry! I can't get it in the little hole!

*laughter*

Me: You're doing it wrong!

Allix: I can't get it through!

Ramon: Oh, I can get it through.

*CEO walks by, stops, walks away*

Fanfiction: His Girls

2009-10-28T15:37:35Z

Title: His Girls
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairings: Dan/Blair
Rating: PG
Summary: Fluff drabble set in the future - Dan Humphrey constantly finds himself making apologies for his wife.

Dan Humphrey constantly finds himself making apologies for his wife. Whether it's because she made her distaste for the general decor apparent or whether she critiqued his sister's designs, his lips are used to the words "I'm sorry about that. She didn't mean it."

And he's happy to. Really. Because most of the time, she doesn't mean it. Or at least, she doesn't mean to be hurtful (like the time she criticized his tie at their wedding rehearsal dinner), she is just sure of herself. Confident Blair is someone he likes to see as much as possible, because self-loathing, self-destructive Blair is catalyst to guilt-ridden, worrying, flustered Dan. Confident Blair is someone their daughter looks up to and her shadow is a fragile stranger to his little girl.

He sees her (his little Emily - Dickenson for him, Bronte for her) learning her mother's sharp tongue and he's not sure whether he should smile or sigh. She certainly has her mother's classic looks and pixie height, but to also acquire her mind... well, he's not sure if Manhattan is ready for another Blair Waldorf. He's sat in the principal's office of their alma mater, with Headmistress Queller shaking her head and making him feel like a teenager all over again instead of the professor that he's become, and defended her. "You know how kids are..." And when Blair adds insult to injury ("Well, she's right, that girl's shoes do look like they came from the Salvation Army."), he apologizes again.

He doesn't mind. Even when Nate lets out a low, sympathetic whistle and his stepsisterexgirlfriend pats him on the back, he just returns his crooked, slightly gap-toothed smile.

For as much as he apologizes for their brutal honesty, their sharp jabs, he embraces their love the minute they close the front door to their apartment. His harsh, headstrong wife sheds her shell, her stiff shoulder becoming soft and around as she drops her brief case and purse to the floor, and steps out of her painful heels. She curls up next to him in her softest oversized cashmere sweater while he's grading term papers and makes them hot tea. She makes him go to bed when he's obsessed about making a deadline and lures him with sinfully sexy lingerie on his birthday, their anniversary, and when she just feels like torturing him while he has to finish his latest novel. She complains about work and her mother and Serena and makes him feel like a man when he knows they're all problems he can fix just by telling her the honest truth about how wonderful she is and how much he loves her.

And then there's Emily. Sweet little Emily who has been painting since Dorota got her her first non-toxic paint set. The little girl he could lift onto his shoulder and listen while she squeals and her mother worries. The girl he gives him a heart attack when she brings home her first boyfriend (a Baizen, no less) and who is growing up before his very eyes.

"So that went well." Blair let down her hair in a luscious tumble of waves down her back and he walks over to unzip her and kiss her on the shoulder. "Nothing nearly as dramatic as ours, thank God."

He chuckles at the memory. He was still with his golden, ethereal muse whom he could never quite grasp then and she was struggling between a boy who loved her from the shadows and one who didn't love her very much at all. "Did you miss the part where you nearly started a fight with Georgina? Again?"

"It's not my fault the coked-up cougar doesn't know how to keep her hands off of underaged boys. I wasn't going to stand there and let her fawn all over our daughter's cotillion date. Besides, I apologized about the carpet stain."

"Correction: I apologized about the carpet stain. You stuck the maid a hundred dollar bill."

"Yea, what I said."

He laughs and watches her change into her nightdress, recording the fluidity of her movement for his latest heroine. The click at the front door makes them poke their heads out and spy their offspring leaning against the front door and, shoulders relaxed and kicking off her shoes. "I'm pooped," she pouted at him. This coming from the head debutante in her floor sweeping cream colored gown and French chignon.

"I'll warm you up a glass of milk and you can head off to bed." He kisses her on her forehead, their earlier fight forgotten (No, she could not spend the night of her cotillion with her boyfriend in a hotel room. Not even if her mother did it).

She hugs him and he thinks she needs to eat more. "I love you, daddy."

"Emily Angelique Humphrey! Did you lose one of my pearl earrings?" Blair knows their daughter well enough to know there's a bigger story behind it.

She looks at him for help and he gives her a slight nudge toward her bedroom. She makes a run for it and leaves him alone with his barefooted wife. He shrugs. "She's sorry! She didn't mean it."

Fanfiction: The Runaway (3/?)

2009-10-26T17:48:38Z

Title: The Runaway (2/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: PG-13 for now
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: You guys are so awesome and are giving me so many ideas in your reviews! I'm thinking about adding someone else in here, but we'll see.

Getting Humphrey back to her apartment discreetly turned out to be more difficult than she thought, but she managed well enough. All the while, however, she wanted to slap him every time he uttered a stunned "uh..."

But now they were in the comfort of her room at three in the morning. She had a few hours to do damage control. "All right, Humphrey. What did you see?"

He just stared at her in shock - the poor guy was stunned. She did just literally drag him back to her place like Hulk on speed. "Uh... I'm not sure exactly." He watched her carefully, not quite knowing what was going on, but smart enough to be aware of the fact that Blair Waldorf was more dangerous than she had ever been. He did get into Yale with his grades, after all. "Did I just... I mean, at first... I guess what I'm-"

"Spit it out, Humphrey. I don't have all night."

"Did you just eat someone?"

"Ew, no. We don't do that unless you really piss us off. Even then, it just gets messy and blood would get in my hair." She shuddered at the time this one guy tried to take silver to her and Eric... well, he didn't take it very well. She fiddled with the ends of her curls. "But you're close enough." She bared her fangs at him and he was transfixed for a full minute...

... and then he began to laugh.

She hissed and was in front of him in a millisecond. "What's so funny, Humphrey? Do you not believe in things that go bump in the night? Should I take a little nip?"

He settled down at that. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. It's just... for a vampire, even a Twilight vampire, you have very small fangs. I mean, at first I thought you were humping the guy when you were trying to um..." She flushed red at that and it was even more apparent against her pale skin. It was a sensitive subject, really. The fact that her fangs were only a tad longer than regular human canine teeth made Eric laugh and rub her head, and that blond bimbo Sookie called her "cute." "I'm... ahem... I'm sure they're very effective." It didn't help the matter that Humphrey saw her struggle with that man in the alley.

"You know, I could screw with your memory, Humphrey. Or better yet, I could just kill you."

He looked at her then, with his judgmental Brooklyn brown eyes. Oh there's a thing such as Brooklyn brown. It's the color of sh- "You wouldn't kill me."

"Don't bet on it. I'm not the girl I used to be. Hell, even if I were, I would still kill you."

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already. And I saw the way you were with Serena at Victrola." He looked at her a little longer, as though he were measuring her up. She always hated that look. "You miss this place. You miss New York." She just glared at him, hating the fact that he may have pointed out one correct thing about her. "Look, we can talk about this tomorrow. Isn't the sun going to rise or something?"

"And what are you going to do? How do I know you won't go around telling everyone? Or that you won't chop my head off the minute I close my eyes?"

"Waldorf, it's me. I'll be back when the sun sets already." He turned to go and she could hardly believe that she was letting him walk out that door, but he was as close to Honest Abe as anyone so... "Oh, by the way," he turned from the door. "Do you need me to tuck you in, baby vamp?" She growled back from her place on the bed and he got the hint.

* * *

"No crazy vampire sightings so far in New York. That's a good sign, right?"

Eric glared at the girl until she looked back down at the laptop screen. Why were they stopping?

"Blair knows how to cover her tracks. We just have to go and bring her home before she gets into any trouble."

The sheriff finally rolled his head fully in their direction. "Would it kill the two of you to shut up? Or should I do the killing?" He banged the back of his head slightly against the wall again. He wished this train would get moving already. He missed intelligent company.

* * *

"What the hell is this?" She woke to find a gathering by her bedside. Too bad she died over a year ago. "Am I going to always wake up to a crowd of people in my territory?"

"B, a-are you okay?" Serena sat on her bed, her hand shaking as she reached out to touch her. "I-I know you won't hurt me, B."

At that, Blair looked at Humphrey standing in the back. "You told them?"

"What the hell was I supposed to do?" he whispered and did that annoying shrug thing he used to do in high school. "Trust me, it was an awkward conversation."

She could feel them all now - Nate, Chuck, Serena, Humphrey - all looking at her like she's some lost lamb. Didn't they know that they were the weak ones? That she could drain all of them if she wanted to? "You know, this is why you didn't have any friends in high school, Humphrey. What's next, you going to post it up on Gossip Girl?"

"Blair, he was just trying to help." Nate always did stick up for the Brooklynite.

She sighed and got out of bed, cranky, tired, and a little hungry. "Well, now you know. And now I have to make all of you forget. Thanks for making the extra work." She brought up her hand to wipe their memory, only to have it grasped tightly by her former best friend.

"We won't say anything, Blair. We just want to be there for you."

She laughed bitterly. Was Serena still this delusional? "S, this isn't just a social misstep, okay? It's not like I got pregnant or someone broke up with me or I moved to Jersey. I'm a vampire. You're food. You can't just be there for me and you can't know that I exist so-"

"Show us."

"What?" She whipped her head around to face Chuck. Chuck, whose pulse raced the most around her. Chuck, who could relate better than any of them.

"Show us."

It would scare them away, probably for their own good, so she showed them. Her little fangs sticking over from her plump bottom lip just enough to be inhuman. "Satisfied?" She watched his throat, his adam's apple bobbed for a quick second and she imagined what it would be like if she just... "Now get out. I'm cranky and hungry. I have to go hunt."

"H-have you ever killed anyone?" Serena asked, her blue eyes looking at her from behind her lashes.

And she just couldn't - she could never - lie to those blue eyes. "No."

The blonde nodded silently, somber as she rarely was, before meeting her eyes again with a nod. She brushed her long, golden mane to one side and tilted her head to expose one long, tanned neck with a strong vein coursing deliciously through-

"What the hell do you think you're doing? This isn't virgin sacrifice hour and you haven't been a virgin for a long while, S."

"I trust that you won't hurt me and I want to help you."

"Are you drunk already?"

"Serena, that's crazy." Humphrey was at least good for the voice of reason.

"Look, it's not like I would do this for just anyone, or any vampire, okay? But I just got my best friend back and if this is what I have to do to keep you from running off again, then I'll do it! Besides, it's much easier and safer to feed on me than it is to go out there and risk being exposed." There was a moment of silence as Serena went back to her pose, her eyes closed, fear and trust at her fingertips.

"Me too." Nate unbuttoned the collar to his polo and Chuck followed suit.

"I actually think it's kind of hot."

Her jaw slackened. What was happening? This was like a very sick and twisted version of "Oh Captain My Captain" and even Blair, who knew how to react to every social situation, had no idea what to do.

"Would it make me look like a real asshole if I'm not up for letting Blair Waldorf suck my blood?"

She watched Serena step forward, arms out and ready for an embrace, and felt her warmth engulf her and burn her to the core. Was this the world she left behind? The world she thought had left her behind? This was the world she had forsaken to become immortal.

Oh what had she done?

"I can't," she whispered, touched. She thought being a vampire was supposed to make her stronger. "I don't want to hurt you." All the while, their blood called out to her. Singing, even.

"With those baby teeth? You wouldn't." With their hands still clasped, Serena led Blair back to the bed and pulled her down with her. "Now, breakfast is served."

Blair looked down at the blond hair sprawled on her bed like it used to at slumber parties and soirees. Her best friend and she couldn't deny how appetizing she looked. She leaned down slowly, giving her ample time to back out, and grazed her teeth against the skin of her neck. Serena was still wearing her own mix of oils and it was intoxicating. Only now would she notice.

And she tasted good. Intoxicating. Better than anyone she had tasted before and her body was warm and soft beneath her. She finally understood the attraction that all men held for Serena van der Woodsen. She licked the wound when she was done, sure that she had left enough for the girl to just feel a tiny bit faint. "You sure you've had enough?" the blonde mumbled. She nodded against her neck, sated and confused. What was happening?

"You're right. That definitely was pretty hot."

"Shut up, Nate," she mumbled, before rolling off her friend. "Now I'm full."

"Too bad. I was going to call dibs next." She and Chuck exchanged a smirk and just for one second, things felt like they always were. Like she was in high school again, surrounded by people she loved. She missed that feeling. Eric's face appeared in her mind for one fleeting moment, but she blurred it out as she told them about her travels, her companions, and her transformation. It was like she was talking about someone else.

She wished she was talking about someone else.

* * *

She forgot how great it was to laugh.

Eric used to make her laugh - when he could spare her a minute of the day. But then he saw her less and less, and Pam would only recycle the same jokes. Eternity looked bleak. But here were the people she was supposed to grow old with sitting in a circle on the floor of her childhood bedroom and she was laughing with them - at how awkward Humphrey is, or how perverted Chuck is. Nate's cluelessness and Serena's naive optimism. It was the second day since they found out and they still stuck by her. Why couldn't they have done this two years ago?

She was here now, though, and that's what mattered. And they would keep her safe. With the Bass fortune and the Vanderbilt pull, there was hardly anything they couldn't do.

"-so then I realized that she's this big movie star! And Nate, here decided it would be a good idea to keep me in the dark-"

"-you guys keep me in the dark all the time!"

"-and this is the best part-"

She felt him before he entered the room, but he was faster than she would ever be. "Aw, did I miss story time?"

There he was, leaning against the doorframe with his arrogant smirk, his leather jacket and that hair. That fucking Draco Malfoy hair. "Eric."

"Hey, sweetheart."

She could see his cold anger in his eyes. She was in trouble.

Fanfiction: The Runaway (2/?)

2009-10-21T14:02:22Z

Title: The Runaway (2/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: PG-13 for now
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your encouragement and support in this strange little experiment! It really means a lot. I hope you guys continue reading!

Blair was in an awful mood. How was a young, independent, beautiful vampire supposed to get any rest with all the ruckus going on in her living room? She turned to her bedside table: 7:00 pm. Really? She couldn't just sleep in for once? Even in her own home?

With a scowl, she threw the blankets off her body and got dressed as well as she could - all the clothes in her closet were seasons past their prime, obviously. Only when she thought she looked presentable for a person of her stature did she slowly descend the stairs, her three inch heels clacking against the marble stairs. "Dorota, I thought this was the Upper East Side, not a Brooklyn rave-" At the silence that followed her entrance, she finally looked at the trio that had gathered in her living room. "Oh, hello."

It would have been quite an ungraceful fall if she didn't have her supernatural strength to hold up both herself and the blond glamazon who decided it would be a good idea to throw herself at the much shorter brunette. "Oh, B! I'm so glad you're home safe!"

She patted her back and wondered inwardly: how long did it take them to notice she was gone?

"Um, thanks S... I left a note - did you guys not find it?"

"We were still worried, B. You totally fell off the radar. Not even Chuck's PIs could find you." Nate, who, to Blair's delight, seemed to have gained a few pounds in her absence, finally came in and disentangled the two girls and squeezed her shoulder like a patronizing older brother.

Which was kind of gross, really, considering the stuff they'd done in high school.

"Well, it worked so well for Serena and Chuck, I figured I had to give it a go. You should try it, Nate. It's a real... life-changer."

"Point proven, Waldorf. And I'm thoroughly impressed. Now, are you ready to get back to reality?" There it was - that low murmur that had once drawn her in so deep that she could hardly find her way out. She looked at him and remembered why she fell for him all over again. Having been surrounded by beautiful vampires, the sight of Chuck Bass in a tailored pin-stripe suit and purple dress shirt, his hair neatly combed back, that smirk neatly in place - oh that smirk - still elicited fantasies of Breakfast at Tiffany's and Gone with the Wind. "I've already called the dean of admission at NYU-"

She shook herself out of it. "I'm afraid I'm not quite ready for reality just yet, Charles." Because that wasn't her reality anymore. Never again.

She wanted to laugh as the three of them looked at each other in awkward silence. It was Serena who finally approached her quietly. "B, you've been gone for two years. None of us know what you've been doing but you need to get your life back on track. It's for your own good."

Blair wanted to laugh. Here was Serena van der Woodsen, of all people, lecturing her on responsibility. It was a sweet, she supposed, if not misguided effort. Maybe things had changed around here. "Don't worry S." She gave the blonde a kiss on the cheek - had her perfume always smelled that good? "I've got everything covered. Now," she turned to the boys, an alluring smile on her face. "What do you guys say about throwing me a welcome back party?"

"What did you have in mind, Waldorf?"

"What else? Victrola, of course." And she walked toward the elevator, her hips swaying all the while. She felt them follow - just as things should be.

* * *

"Son of a bitch." She had hardly been gone for two days and she was already making it to that stupid blog she showed him when they first met. There she was arriving at New York's Grand Central (the station had seen better days, in his opinion), apparently with some boy she must have met on her way up. And now, apparently, she was at some club.

Victrola.

Not bad - it was no Fangtasia, for sure. According to the vapid writer of that privacy-invasive atrocity, his girl was accompanied by her old crew and by the looks of it, having more fun than was safe. He did have to admit though - she looked stunning. Her hair, down in dark waves, was lit in red and blue light and it flew about her as she danced. Oh, how she danced. "Oh, nice shoes," Pam said as she walked by behind his back and looked over his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes - of course that's where her priorities were. "Pam, take care of the bar. I have to head up to New York for a few days." It would take a few days, whether she was cooperative or not. He brought his eyes back to the picture and looked at the men in the background - watching, wanting. Perhaps one of them would be lucky enough to get a little nip from her. At the thought, he let out a growl and shut his laptop.

"Pick me up a little something?"

"As always."

He almost made it out the door, but damn if that Sookie Stackhouse didn't just appear everywhere. "Where're ya goin'?"

"New York. I have to go get something that's mine."

* * *

"Oh my god, B, that is soooooooo amazing!" Serena was seriously trashed. Trashed enough to not notice that Blair had been not drinking her martini for the past two hours. The elongated 'so' was also a great clue. "Now I want to go to the south!"

She was resting her feet on one of the lounges and the way her body natural leaned toward Serena's felt so natural and reminiscent that she almost forgot what she was. Of course, that was impossible with the stench of sweat and the sound of blood all around her. It was probably for the best.

"Did I just hear you say that you wanted to go to the south, sis?" The Bass came out from lurking in the shadows and sat on the other side of her. Yet another familiar thing she should ignore.

"Yes! Blair was telling me about all these people she met - hot Eric, ditz Sookie, boring Bill, and- and that funny chick-"

"Pam," she supplied, faking a sip of her martini.

"Pam!" Serena exclaimed with a clap of her hands. She swayed toward Blair and she felt her heated face near her mouth. "Oh, I love Pam!"

"Don't we all." It was unnerving the way Chuck kept his eyes on her, not wavering for one moment. "Hey sis, why don't you keep Nate company on the dance floor? He looks tired of the girls crowding him." Blair looked over and, as usual, Nate had girls practically drooling over him. She wouldn't mind taking one off his hands for a little snack...

"Nooooo! I want to hang out with my best friend!" Serena hung onto her arm tightly, the side of her face pressed tightly to her shoulder. If it had been anyone else, Blair would have probably shoved her away. Hard. But it was Serena, dear, sweet Serena and instead of being annoyed, she felt a warmth spread over her the likes of which she hadn't felt in a long time. It also helped that she was dreading this conversation that Chuck was obviously eager to have. She sighed. She supposed she would just have to get it over with, or else it would plague her for the rest of her vacation.

"Look, S! It's Humphrey! Go get him and we can all drink together!"

"Oh my god, B! You still have the best ideas! Oh my god..." And she wandered off as she always would when Dan Humphrey was involved. Siblings or not, those two just couldn't stay away from each other.

"Nicely done. Glad to see you haven't lost your touch. I wonder..."

'Well, don't." She shoved the hand off her knee. "I didn't come back for you, Chuck. Just like you never came back for me."

He sighed and she noticed for the first time. He had aged since she left. Two years and he seemed a decade older. He just looked... tired. "Blair, I didn't know-"

"How could you not? I called you ten times a day, begging for you to come home like some pathetic housewife while you were probably screwing every hooker in Paris-"

"-I would never cheat-"

"-and even after everything, everything, you still didn't come back! Our relationship was not something you could put on the back burner, Chuck. At least I thought we weren't." It was probably the first time she had ever seen him without a comeback - an excuse. "You know, I'm almost disappointed that I left." He looked up at her, so hopeful that it made Blair's frozen heart ache. "Because I would have given anything to see the look on your face when you came back and found me gone."

She left him there, the damned butterflies fluttering around in her stomach and tears stinging her eyes. That was not the way that was supposed to go. She was supposed to stay calm and cool - just like Eric would have - and throw him out of her life. Instead, he somehow managed to crawl his way back in.

She caught the eye of a young man at the bar, smiling smugly at her and her teeth began to ache.

Dinner time.

* * *

Spotted: Our recently returned Queen B locking lips with -

The photos said more than enough to make Eric sick. He didn't need to associate a name with it too. He could tell the man was just food and that Blair was using her natural charms to lure him back to her make-shift lair for a snack, but it didn't mean he had to like the way she was doing it. The very opposite, in fact. He didn't like the way she held the guy's hand while he practically shoved his tongue down her pretty white throat. The same one that he had sank his teeth into when he made her his. He certainly didn't like the way his fingers trailed along her exposed knee.

What was the girl wearing?

"Well, she looks like she's adjusting just fine on her own."

Eric really hated how he couldn't shake those two if he tried. Bill and Sookie sat across from him in the train car until she became nosy enough to pry on his side. She used the excuse that they're friends, even if the world knew that Blair couldn't stand Sookie, and Bill followed her around like a good little lap dog.

He turned his eyes back to his girl there on the screen. He really hoped she wouldn't do anything stupid.

And, perhaps, he'll rip off a limb or two once he got into the city.

* * *

"This way." She grabbed his hand and led him to the back alley through which she and Chuck had duck out many a times. She let out an insipid giggle until they rounded the corner and she had him against the wall, right where she wanted him. "So, you said you liked me, huh?" she asked, pushing his hair out of his face. He had his hands on her waist and ducked in for a kiss. "You think I'm pretty?"

"So much." Good answer, she thought. There was really no appetizer better than a compliment. As a reward, she drew her fangs and brushed the broad of it against his warm, pulsing neck. She laved it with her tongue and felt him weaken at the knees. This was too easy.

She angled her own neck just so, the glamor already in place to silence him like a paralyzing poison, and opened her mouth wide to bite. Embarrassingly enough, it took her a few tries - and this was why Eric preferred to accompany her on her hunts. While small mouths and pouty lips were valued as a mark of beauty in some cultures, it became awfully inconvenient for a vampire to grip onto its prey and with Blair's unnaturally shorter fangs, it always did take her a few tries to hit the vein. Often, Eric would choose a smaller female for her and lure the victim for her, as their skin tend to be softer and the neck thinner. On the occasion when she wanted a treat, he would wait until her fangs stuck into the man's neck before letting go. Like a proud teacher, he would give her a quick pat on her head.

And he did teach her well. For instance, she knew exactly when to stop feeding to keep her food alive.

She let go of him, his eyes still dazed and his stupid smile in place, she patted him softly on the cheek. "Good boy," she said and hid his wound. "Now get back in there and drink plenty of liquids, okay? Doctor's orders." She watched him stumble back into the club, her blood lust satisfied and her eyes hooded with pride. There went her first hunt in New York. She wasn't too bad at this, she decided. Discreet, calm, and the style points-

Crash

She heard the garbage cans knock over and the heavy breathing to her side. Maybe she wasn't as good at this as she thought. She rolled her eyes in that direction and bared her fangs, ready to attack and mess with the unfortunate witness to her being. But then, she recognized that stench and that stutter and she had to curse how small this island was. "Humphrey?"

Fanfiction: We're All Puppets

2009-10-20T21:16:53Z

Title: We're All Puppets
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairings: Blair-centric, mild Chuck, Serena, and a special guest
Rating: PG
Summary: Blair pulls a successful heist because it's been a while - set after 3.06. Obviously AU after that. Serena/Blair friendship. Chuck/Blair make up.

A/N: I hate the GG writers. I really do. Stop leaving things in the *)(@#$ air. My way of tying up two storylines. Something I whipped up in about, half an hour? Let me know what you guys think!

He couldn't blame her.

Chuck was still doing his stupid disappointed-father-silent-treatment and she's not going to sit there like a wounded puppy and sniff his ass until he spares her a minute of the day.

So what she was doing? Stupid, yes. But he couldn't blame her.

The sun was hot on her skin, a sweet reprieve from the cold wind that had picked up in the city last week. She lounged by the pool, long legs crossed at the ankles, midriff exposed in a red and white bikini. Large dark glasses covered her eyes as the red covered her lips. She was the very picture of old hollywood sexuality. It wouldn't take long at all.

"I'm sorry, I usually don't do this, but I couldn't help but notice you."

She tilted her head up to acknowledge the blonde in front of her. At least he wasn't a troll. Far from it, actually.

"Oh? And what did you notice about me, exactly?" She felt his eyes on her and lifted her chin higher still.

"Your... confidence, shall we say?"

She granted him a wry smile. "Good answer."

"You wouldn't happen to have time tonight for dinner with a fellow American, would you?"

She made a show of ripping off her sunglasses and holding a tip of it between her teeth like she'd seen in the movies. The anonymity granted her courage and it became time for her to give him the once over. "I suppose I could spare an hour or so. I'll meet you in the lobby at six?"

He flashed her a familiar smile, boyish with dimples and blue shining eyes. "I'm eternally grateful. Now, should I push my luck and ask you for your name?"

She stood and leaned in close, her lips just brushing his ear. "You'll find out tonight." And she walked away, hips swaying and never once looking back.

She had the bastard now.

* * *

"You... really are something else." He held her waist lightly when they were in front of her door.

She flashed him a precocious grin that simply said, I know. "Do you want to come in for... coffee?"

He smiled like Christmas, New Years, and his birthday all came early. "I was really hoping you'd ask."

"I'll take that as a yes."

She let him sit on the couch to stew for a while as she took off her pearls and put them back in the pre-packed suitcase. From that, she grabbed her... props. "So do I get a name now?" He sounded hopeful as she reappeared, her hands behind her back.

"Hm, you'll have to earn it." She sat close to him, her lips a breath away from his. "You'll have to be a really good boy."

She kissed him then, and using the moment of distraction, cuffed his wrists together. She was sure she heard a chuckle. "I'm not that kind of guy. I at least need a name." He still didn't get it, did he?"

"Sure," she whispered. "It's Blair, Blair Waldorf."

His eyes snapped open then. Finally.

"Yes, you know, your daughter's best friend?" She kissed his paralyzed lips again. "We're going to take a little trip."

* * *

"Serena! Eric! You made it!" Her smile dropped at the first part. ".. and you brought Chuck." He hardly spared her a glance and she had to grit her teeth to stop her from screaming.

"What's going on, Blair?" She really ought to be offended by her best friend's suspicioin. But then again, she supposed she had justifiable cause.

"I have a present for you! A little something I picked up from Maui. Come on!" She could hardly contain her excitement. It had been such a long time since one of her schemes had gone her way.

There he was, pacing the carpet like he owned the place with Dorota watching him with her eagle eye all the while.

"...Dad?"

"Serena, Eric... you guys got so big." The three of them hug and from her view from the doorframe, Blair figured whatever she did, it was worth it.

She felt a hand on her elbow tear her away and she followed Chuck down the hall to give them some privacy. "How did you manage that?"

"Oh wait, you're talking to me again?"

"Blair..." He was using his I-don't-have-time-for-this voice and she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"A girl has her ways." She allowed herself a self-indulgent smile.

"You didn't-"

"Not all the way, no. But I had to put some bait on the hook." She could see the way he was biting down on his jaw. "Oh stop it. It wasn't even a big deal."

"Could you do me a favor and get a sense of self-worth?"

"I didn't know I needed your permission. Or is this about you too?" She sighed, frustrated. Why did he always have to take things so fucking personally? "This is about Serena, okay? So I used myself a bit - it's not about me." She peeked at him, her voiced lowered when she supplied, "just like how it wasn't about you."

And they both knew they were talking about the catalyst of their cold war in the first place.

He took her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing slow, heated circles on the back of her hand. "So how did you manage to-"

"There were handcuffs and castration threats involved. That's all I'm willing to divulge at the moment. A girl has to have her secrets."

He kissed her then, and it felt so good. "Okay."

"Okay."

Fanfiction: The Runaway (1/?)

2009-10-19T15:29:38Z

Title: The Runaway (1/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandoms: Gossip Girl/True Blood
Characters: Eric/Blair; Chuck, Serena, etc.
Rating: PG-13 for now
Summary: Sequel to Ritual. Blair's new life as a vampire in Louisiana didn't turn out as she imagined so she ran back to her hometown at the first opportunity. Like moth to a flame, it was impossible for Eric to stay away.

A/N: This is new frontier for me – True Blood/Gossip Girl multi-chap fic. It's a sequel of sorts to my one-shot, Ritual. I'm feeling pretty good about it and it shouldn't be ultra long. I hope you guys enjoy it! Any comments would be appreciated!

She was done being invisible. Playing second fiddle to yet another well endowed blonde may be enough for some, but Blair had enough of that even before Bon Temps and to watch yet another man look over her was not part of her plan. She knew when she'd lost. Abandonment was an old friend.

It's humiliating, really. Eric was her maker and she lost him to some...human. It was always Sookie-this, Sookie-that and she'd even caught them...

Nate and Serena all over again. Heightened expectations, disappointment, betrayal and this time, she didn't have a Chuck to turn to. She didn't have anyone but herself. For all eternity. How fucking depressing.

The worst part is, they'd kissed - her and Eric. She was sure of it. When she first woke and he touched her face and had his arm around her. It was... sweet. Probably the sweetest kiss she'd ever experienced. Then the next thing she knew, he was treating her like she was his child. She'd never felt so insulted.

Of course, she still retained her deceptively guileless good looks and when she sighed and pouted, a handsome young man, someone she would have been interested in during high school, came up to her seat in the midnight, northbound Acela. "You okay, beautiful?"

"Just a little lonely. A long way to New York."

"Well, why don't I keep you company?"

Blair smiled. Perhaps she'd get a meal out of this after all. Sure, she wasn't allowed to talk to strange men, but Eric can leave his rules for his little Sookie. It was time for this little birdie to fly.

* * *
"What do you mean, 'you lost her'?"

Eric was never leaving again. He went to solve one thing for 3 days with the mind-reader and he lost his fledgling due to his incompetent staff. In his frustration, his favorite chair had already become a casualty and it looked as though many would follow. "Eric, calm-" he was in front of Sookie Stackhouse before she could even finish her sentence. Bill knew enough to pull her away by the arm.

His glare lingered on her for a second before sweeping the room again. "Find her."

"We've looked everywhere. She's not here."

"Well, look again." He turned his back to them as they filed out, his hands flat on the bar. She was strong, certainly. And smart. But the idea of her wandering alone, recklessly feeding as many newborn were wont to do, having to find shelter in time. Or what if she decided to flee once and for all to find another... No, it would be too much. Too embarrassing, of course, since Eric was a sheriff and if he couldn't keep a leash on his... yes, that's what he told himself.

Or maybe someone took her. He clenched his fists at his sides. If anyone was that foolish, he'll rip the bastard to pieces.

He retreated to her room. It's small, and he was certain she was accustomed to luxuries beyond that which Louisiana could provide, but she had insisted that the little room beside his was fine by her. The bed against the wall was neatly made, as she retained much of her human nature - especially the constant need for order, and he sat upon it, thinking of the nights when he laid in his coffin on the other side of the wall and touched the lining, imagining her face resting peacefully there, her smooth little hands cradling her cheek and her knees curled up...

He pressed his nose against her pillow, the scent of her shampoo seeped into the fibers and he could smell her everywhere. "I'll find you soon. Don't worry, I'll bring you home."

* * *
"Miss, may I have the pleasure of seeing you again?" Blair took his hand and stepped off the train. She walked toward the glow of the Grand Central main atrium with her dinner trailing behind her, holding the one bag she had packed with her. Glamoring did so come in handy. The clock struck nine and through the glass doors, she could see that the car she ordered had arrived.

"I'm afraid this is where our rendezvous ends, but we'll meet again if it's meant to be." She gave him her hand, which he brought to his lips for a kiss. "Now, be a dear and bring my bag to the car for me?"

New York was always changing, but constant. With the wind blowing in the opened windows against her face, all the lights still blurred together accompanied with car horns and the smell of roasted nuts.

And blood. It's everywhere and under her skin. The scent floated through her nerves and her eyes opened wide at the mix of people who were all for her. For a while, Eric was busy with Sookie and Bill, troubled, polite Bill, had taken her under his wing. She'd lived off of true blood then. She wasn't particularly strong and feeding was always a bit clumsy. True blood was a neat, easy alternative - even if it did taste like gasoline.

Or worse, house gin.

It was fine, though, when Bill warmed it up just right and brought it to her while she laid in bed with hunger pains like Dorota used to do. It kept her safe, Eric said. Because he didn't like it when she wandered around on her own. He liked being there when she live fed.

That's all over now though. She listened to him before but now... he'd turned away too many times for her to care. She went to Louisiana to change - to stop being that girl running after a boy who always had his back to her and before she knew it, she found herself doing the same thing. No - Blair Waldorf, especially as a vampire, followed no one. She wasn't as strong as Eric, but she can take care of herself just fine, thank you very much.

She was different but everything was the same. The doorman greeted her politely and offered to bring her bag up and she acknowledged him with a quick nod. Her hunger satisfied and the reunion with Dorota, clad in bunny slippers and robe, done with, Blair couldn't help but smile satisfactorily at herself. The window curtains had been converted to doors to block any light, just as she requested. She was pleased that Dorota was still as efficient as ever. Five a.m... she knew she'd have things to deal with later, but she was going to have a fine day's sleep in her old bed and silk nightie. It was so great to be her sometimes.

* * *
It was a rare occurrence when sleep evaded Eric. After a thousand years, a man learned to let troubles drift from the mind for rest. Yet here he was, in the middle of the day, tossing and turning in his coffin like an adolescent boy who couldn't get his bearings straight. For the lack of a better word, Eric was restless. He couldn't wait for the damned sun to set so he could start searching for her once again.

But where would he start?

Pam and the others searched nearly the entire area and came up with nothing. He knew his Blair - unlike Jessica, she wasn't reckless or impulsive. She was sly, that one, and smart. All that added with the resources her name afforded her, finding her seemed like a herculean task, but one that he had to tackle all the same.

And he'd find her, he just had to.

He rolled over again, frustrated at not being able to fall asleep when his hand crept under and hit cold metal. He felt around it with his fingers - around the tiny ring of metal to the stone attached to it. It was Blair's ruby ring.

And then he knew - she had gone home to New York.

Fanfiction: Under the Sun (2/2)

2009-10-16T04:54:43Z

Title: Under the Sun (2/2)
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairing: Tripp/Blair
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There are some things a man can never forget. Especially a man such as himself. AU as of Season 2. I promised a sequel to Secrets of Summer for several people so here it is, part one of two. I hope you guys enjoy it!

A/N: Here it is, the last part of this alternate universe I've created for my babies Blair and Tripp. Thanks for all of you guys' support! I really just wanted to get these piece out of my head (with all their issues, etc), before they put Tripp back on the show and, undoubtedly, ruin him (the writers loooove ruining my good time). I hope you guys enjoy them. If/when you see them next from me, they'll probably exist in yet another universe. Until then, xoxo.
Beyond the Stars

He felt the exact moment her dainty bare feet touched the floor, could see her pedicured toes shrink away from the cold wooden floorboards before dipping in again. Blair could never sleep through the night and, as a result, he couldn't seem to do it anymore either. "Go back to sleep," she whispered before landing a kiss on his cheek.

"Where you goin'?" He mumbled and grasped her hand before she could slip away.

"Just on a walk. I'll be back soon." She kissed him again to appease him, but laughed nervously when he pulled her closer by the waist until she was on the bed with him again, her hair tickling his nose. "Come on, Tripp. I won't be able to get back to sleep this way."

"You need your strength. Mom's gonna grill you tomorrow."

"I'm a big girl, Tripp. Now go back to sleep. I'll be back before you know it."

But she wasn't. The second hand ticked louder as the time leaned closer to four and before long, he threw on a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats and headed out. His slippered footsteps echoed down the marble halls as he wandered aimlessly, eyes fighting to stay open.

It was one of those moments where Tripp wished he had stayed in bed rather than face the day. As he pressed his hand against the glass of the window, his eyes bore down to the courtyard below, lit by moonlight. He watched in a sort of morbid fascination as they lounged on a chaise by the pool - the pool where everything started, and Nate reached out his hand to touch her face before grazing her lips with a soft kiss. Even he had to admit, the two were aesthetically stunning together.

So where did that leave him? Standing in a lonely hallway staring at a brief kiss that seemed to last forever.

He watched her push away at his cousin's shoulders, his robe billowing behind her. He watched Nate stare after her before hanging his head and walking in the opposite direction. He decided to follow his cousin's example and head back to the room, ignoring the scream ripping at his throat, pushing for release.

No, he swallowed that back and when she crept back in bed behind him, he turned to his side and held her to him.

"What are you doing up?" she whispered in the dark, her eyes two glittering jewels.

"Couldn't sleep without you." He kissed her soft, padded lips and reached for the knot on the robe.

"Sorry I took so long."

"It's ok. You're here now." He felt her dimple on his forehead as he kissed her neck and for now, that was enough.

* * *

The ladies took a trip to the local spa, leaving the gentlemen to their own devices of cigars and booze. While Tripp was used to this part of politics, he could never quite bring himself to enjoy it. He sipped steadily at a scotch and inhaled slow, but shallow breaths. Although now that he wasn't actually involved with the politics, conversation seemed much lighter. There wasn't anything at stake, at least not on the surface.

He stepped onto the attached balcony and his shoulders tensed when his grandfather walked alongside him. It was impossible not to notice someone as imposing and austere as William Vanderbilt.

"Grandfather, I-" He wasn't sure where he was going with it and was relieved when he was spared the words with a wave of the patriarch's hand.

"Don't be sorry, Tripp. It was about time you grew a backbone. Washington would have eaten you alive, the way you were going. But no. You, you pushed back. That's good." William kept his eyes on the horizon and from all his work with the old man, Tripp knew, right from his gut, that there was something going on. "Blair's a nice girl, Tripp."

The sudden change of topic threw him. "Um, yea. She's a great girl."

"Yes, you always did have a thing for her. Back then it was a bit, shall we say, inappropriate. But now that both of you are at a more mature age, I don't see a problem." William glanced back at his grandson, who had been shocked into silence. "There's nothing that goes on in this house that I don't know about." It was impossible for Tripp to stop wondering exactly how much his grandfather knew from that summer. "Oh, don't be embarrassed, boy. I already said I approve. I can see why both of you would be so bewitched by her. She's quite a lovely young lady. Our family can always use a cunning recruit, however we get her." Because my grandsons are sheep.

The words weren't there, but Tripp could hear them lingering just at the end of that sentence and it was then that Tripp realized exactly how interchangeable William's grandsons were to him. Nate hadn't been far off with his best man speech, after all.

Casually, observing the view before him, he mumbled with his lips on the rim of his glass. "It's a waste though, she would make a great wife for a politician. She's the kind of girl who gets things done."

Tripp recalled the brief debacle before she graduated - when she had been vulnerable and unsure and, unknowingly, made a deal with the devil. "She's changed a lot, Grandfather. College has really been good for her."

"She hasn't changed that much."

"Oh?"

"Well, she got you here, didn't she?"

Still, William kept his eyes on the sky. Both he and Tripp knew, in that instant, that the seed was sown.

* * *

She was drunk. Sedated, but it was in her eyes and the way she swayed slightly when she got out of the town car, stumbling into his arms. He'd been watching for them to return, afraid that his mother may have scared her away already, but he only found the two of the giggling over nothing one minute, and nearly asleep the next. It was sweet, the way she smiled sleepily at him and landed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Moments like that, he was certain she was a different girl and that surely, William was up to something all on his own.

Aunt Anne was glaring at him like he had drugged her. Or, at the very least, stole and ruined her for her baby boy. If only she knew how much he'd ruined her even before his engagement fell apart...

By the time they reached the main house from the car, he had picked her up in his arms and cradled her to him by the crooks of his elbows. Her shoes dangled from one hand and the other fumbled for the doorknob to their room. He felt the brass handle give and bent his knee to open it. Nightfall had passed and the clock struck seven.

He placed her on the bed, still drowsy and mumbling nonsense, and stripped her down to her slip. She was beautiful - fair skin covering womanly curves. She was the stuff that Greek sculptures were made of and she was warm and perfect in his arms. He kissed one soft cheek, then the other, before finally tucking her in to make an appearance at dinner.

"Mmm, don't go." She stirred from beneath the silken cocoon.

"Hey, you awake?" She nodded slowly. "Do you want anything to eat? Dinner's just about ready to start."

She draped an arm across her eyes and groaned. "I'm gonna throw up if I move," she whined. "On the up side, you mom loved me."

He chuckled. "Of course. Who wouldn't?" He dragged the trash can from across the room to her bedside. "Here's the bin in case the alcohol decides to make a reappearance. There's aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand, okay?" He stroked back the baby hairs from her forehead and kissed the soft skin there. "You gonna be all right? Sure you don't want me to bring you back something from the kitchen?"

She leaned her face into his touch, a serene smile on her face that trumped that of Mona Lisa, and it was all for him. "You're an angel," she mumbled. Her eyelids fell close and her soft, rhythmic breathing infiltrated his senses once more.

* * *

"Do you have a minute, Nate? There's something I need to talk to you about." The talk was unavoidable and now, while Blair was safely asleep in their room, was as good a time as any. The dining room was emptying out, as were the drinks, and he managed to catch his cousin just before he slipped away. It was no secret that the two of them, who had once been close as brothers, had avoided each other since the day the town cars began arriving.

"Well, Tripp. Not all of us have a girlfriend to go back to so sure, what the hell."

They walked in silence through the halls they used to play in. There was a time when Tripp would carry Nate on his shoulders and the little boy would laugh as he ran, his grin extending from ear to ear. There was none of that old mirth in this walk and even before the tough conversation started, Tripp wished that it was over already.

He turned to him when they reached the ballroom, empty except for the grand piano that stood in the corner. "Look, Nate. I know you're upset-"

"Upset? Upset? You stole my girlfriend!"

"I didn't steal her!" Tripp was emphatic about that. Blair was never that sort of girl and he was certainly not any sort of a cad. "You broke her, Nate. You and your friend, Chuck did a number on her and I was there to put her back together. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Really? You could honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you never wronged me when it comes to Blair. Nothing sick about your so-called relationship?" He did just that. There was nothing more right and amazing in the world than the way Blair made him feel. "So you actually want me to believe that you weren't a fucking pedophile? Or, for that matter, an obsessive stalker?"

"Watch your tone, Nathaniel."

"She told me about that summer here. We take a break for the season and you screw around with my girlfriend? Even after I told you I wanted to get back together, you still - She was just a kid, you sick fuck!"

"I would never hurt-"

"And then you just show up at NYU. Right when she and Chuck broke up and I had my shot, you stole her from right under my nose. You couldn't just stayed at Providence and out of the way."

Finally, Tripp couldn't take it anymore. If not for himself, then it was for her. "The two of you lived in the same city for months, Nate, and you had no idea how miserable she was! You were too busy traipsing around with Vanessa or Bree Buckley to notice the way people were walking all over her. Or hell, even worse: you knew and you didn't do anything for her!" There was a silence in the blue light of the stars and for a moment, Nate looked ashamed of himself. "Look, I'll admit it. Blair and I... after you guys split up that summer, we were together. We were... at least I was, in love, Nate. It wasn't just a fling or anything like that. She's special to me."

"Special. You mean a vulnerable teenager you could take advantage of."

Tripp let out a long, exasperated sigh. This wasn't going to go the way he had hoped. "Look, Nate. I can tell that I'm not going to change your mind about this, but just know that I was never with her when you were. I wanted to - I was jealous, but... I really thought that she was going to Yale instead of NYU and when we found each other on campus, things just... happened. I mean, I guess they didn't just happen - I never fell out of love with her and I don't think I ever will so I'm sorry you feel that way, but this isn't something I can control."

Nate went to take a seat on the piano bench and Tripp just watched his cousin, elbows on his knees and an utter look of loss on his face. "She was mine, you know. She was mine for a long time. I never thought..."

"I know. She was yours even when I was hers."

"I really fucked things up for myself, didn't I?" And he covered his face like he used to as a child and Tripp would go comfort him. Things have shifted though, and people changed and all Tripp could do now was stand there, head down. "I never should have introduced her to you when we were like, eight," he finally said with a slight chuckle.

"Yea. That game of house did me in." The two cousins shared a bitter laugh, the aftertaste sour in their mouths.

"What I said, at your uh, rehearsal dinner. I still mean it. You know, about Grandfather. You need to be careful." Tripp perked up his ears, even if it was something he had known for a while now. It wasn't often when Nate was as serious as he was being. "He was the one who told me to come here to uh, to fight for Blair. I know that I still love her and I probably always- the point is, he's still upset about everything. He didn't say it in so many words, but you know Grandfather."

It stung to hear the words out loud, even if he had known them to be true all along. Despite the pats on the back, the fatherly talks, the thorn was still stuck in the lion's paw and he was out for blood.

All Tripp could do was shield Blair from it all.

* * *

He woke to her hair tickling his neck, sliding beneath his shoulder as she shifted into consciousness. The sun had already risen and the white of the curtains brightened up the entire room. "Hey, how you feelin'?" he asked as he brushed her hair out of her face.

"Ugh, my eyelashes hurt. That last martini was probably a bad idea."

He gave a slight chuckle. "Yea, probably." He wrapped his arm around her stomach and pulled her back against his chest. "Let's sleep in today," he murmured against her neck. He just needed to feel her there, with him. Her hair tickling his nose and her scent all around in the sheets and her clothes.

"Mm, that sounds wonderful," she sighed. She turned in his arms. "But I promised your mother that I would go shoe-shopping with her today. I want to make a good impression." His heart fluttered when she kissed him just so on the tip of his nose and he leaned in to capture her lips.

"You already made a good impression yesterday. You had as many drinks as she did and didn't throw up all over her." She skipped out of bed, wavering a bit at the speed with which she got up and the headache that caught up with her. She took the aspirin and water beside the bed with a grateful smile. "You know, I'm beginning to resent my mother for taking up all of my girlfriend's time."

"Well, once I completely win her over with my Waldorf charm, we have all the time in the world." She brushed her lips softly against his. "Now get up. Don't you have that luncheon to go to with Grandfather today?"

Grandfather was honestly the last thing he wanted to think about at the moment. The ominous warnings, the deceit, and his knowledge of his grandfather in general set of alarm bells in his head that probably rivaled Blair's hangover. "I don't know. I was thinking about skipping. I mean, it's not anything I'm interested in. I only went before because I actually thought I was going to be a politician." He picked at the bed sheet as he listened to her brush her teeth, go through her regular beauty routine.

She came out, her hands smoothing moisturizer over her cheeks. "Well, it can't hurt to build connections. It's just a few painful hours. You never know if they'll end up helping you in the future." She came to sit by him and ran her hand through his hair. "Hey, you okay?"

He flashed a brief smile, her words hauntingly familiar to him. It was something that Grandfather would- no. He wasn't even going to consider that. "Yea, just a little tired."

He leaned in to kiss her cheek and she held up a hand, giggling as she pushed his face away. "Moisturizer." He only grabbed her wrist and tried again, this time catching the smooth skin only to flinch at the bitter taste after. "Told you."

He shrugged, "It was worth it."

* * *

Tripp looked at the old man now and couldn't quite remember what he had so admired and feared about him all these years. "Leave her alone."

"Tripp! I'm glad you made it. I was hoping you would show up."

He had that devil's smile that had lured him so many times before. But not anymore. He couldn't afford to fall for it again. If he did, he'd lose her. "I don't care what you had in mind, stop it. Leave Blair alone. Stop putting thoughts in her head, stop throwing Nate at her face, stop using her to get to me. Just stop." He wasn't Nate, he couldn't make a big speech in front of his family just to knock his grandfather down a peg or two, but it was about time he stood up to him.

"I assure you, I have no idea what-"

"I saw you talking to her. The first day we got here when you gave her that dress. I don't know what you said and I don't care, just leave her alone."

William stood in silent contemplation over his scotch for a minute. "Was I there when she convinced you to come today? Or when she went out with the other society wives?" He glanced at his grandson to gauge his reaction. "Face it, Tripp. Blair Waldorf isn't the kind of girl who'll wait around for an academic to strike gold. She's used to luxury and things that an archaeologist's salary can't provide and if you really love her and if you really want to keep her around, you'd come back to the herd."

"She's not what you think-"

"I've said this once and I'll say it again. I want her in the family, regardless of where the connection is from." He leaned back, his tone less menacing now that he'd let his wishes be known. "You know, I can get her Yale."

That caught Tripp's attention and for the first time, his clear blue eyes met the aged ones of his grandfather's.

"It'd be a simple transfer. All I have to do is make a phone call and you'd be the hero. It's your call, Tripp, but I assure you that I can think of no better birthday present for Blair Waldorf than that acceptance letter. Now would you rather have that be from Nathaniel, her romanticized first love, or from you?"

* * *

He walked back into their room, his tie undone and the first few buttons of his white shirt left open, yet still tucked into his black trousers from the luncheon. From the ground, he picked up an empty white shoe box with bright pink tissue paper sticking out and placed it on the dresser. "Hey, you went! How was it?"

She was modeling her latest purchase from the bed, her calves extended as she pointed her toes in new, blue high heels. "It was fine." He walked over to sit by her. "You look like you had a productive day."

Her smile brightened and she rolled her ankle around for a full inspection. He ran his fingers through her curls and they slid through his hands like water. "Do you like them?" He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his chin on her shoulder, watching the shoe and reveling in the moment. They just felt so... normal and perfect.

"Yes, but I don't think they'll fit me, dear." He turned his head to kiss her neck, delighting in the way her throat jumped at her laughter. She fell back to the bed and he maneuvered his way on top of her.

"I would hope not. Unless you have something you'd like to tell me, Tripp Vanderbilt!" And there was his way in. That was the time to ask what she wanted. William had said it was his call, but he knew better. "What's wrong?" He found her dark eyes staring up at him, her expression turned from lighthearted to worried. She reached a small, smooth hand up to his face and as if by instinct, he turned and kissed it softly.

"Nothing." And he kissed and made love to her the best he could in the late afternoon light.

He couldn't burden her with this.

* * *

They laid in silence, Tripp having insisted that they take dinner in bed while watching old episodes of a sitcom. After the meal, they just fell back on the bed, their breathing synchronized, her hand hot on his chest. He asked into the dark, "will you still love me if I'm not a Vanderbilt?"

She lifted her head slightly, her hair tickling his chest. "What are you talking about?" He could feel her eyes search his face and kept his gaze to the ceiling.

"I mean... if I can't... I can't get you the things you want. I remember what it was like being one of Grandfather's puppets and I just can't, I can't go back to that-" He began to ramble everything she couldn't understand until she held his face in her hands. He couldn't hold it in and exhaled. "I'm sorry."

"Are you- are you breaking up with me?" Her bottom lip shook and he ran his thumb across it.

"I don't want to," he whispered. "But Nate is going to be a very rich man. He can get you Yale."

She clutched at his shirt and he held her hand.

There wasn't much left to say.

* * *

She was gone in the morning and he felt her leave. The door clicked close and he opened his eyes to find the perfumed note on her pillow.

I'm a Waldorf. I don't need a Vanderbilt.

81.1130.eo8

* * *

The C train skipped the 23rd St. stop and he practically ran from 14th over, cursing under his breath the entire way. He was going to be late and that was never allowed, especially today. There was so much and yet nothing to say, but still he just wanted to see her.

At the intersection of 23rd and 8th, he took a right toward 7th Ave and found their favorite brunch place, East on 8th. 11:28. This was good, he was early. The host greeted him as usual and just as he was about to ask for a table for two, he heard his name. "Over here, Tripp!"

Carl and Sandy were there with their usual smiles at a little table for four by the piano. Sandy was allergic to oranges so she shot for a glass of champagne and Carl took to his bloody mary. His usual, a coffee with a splash of brandy sat next to a tall glass of mimosa. He would recognize her gorgeous head of brunette curls anywhere. "Sorry, we started without you," Sandy said. "Booze waits for no one."

"Uh, no that's fine." He sat, his hands nearly shaking. It had been a week since he'd seen her and she was so beautiful that it was difficult to breathe. It would have been so much easier if she had just disappeared to Yale.

"You know, when Blair came back from Connecticut by herself I was worried that something had happened."

He felt her hand on his knee, right by his own hand. "No, I just came back early to get ready for school and Tripp needed to spend more time with his family before they all hate me for taking him away. That reminds me, what can you guys tell me about Professor Lockner?"

"You need to calm down, there's still a month before school..."

Tripp tuned them out, because all he could feel was her hand creeping over his, fingers curling around each other. Her palm was warm and soft, her grip firm in his. He brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss. A thank you I love you marry me be with me forever kiss. He held her eyes, black glittering above a hopeful smile, and he felt his face nearly split with the grin.

"Ok, are you two even listening? Get a room!"

A waiter stopped by with four plates and placed them down. He felt her lean in close and whisper, "I ordered your favorite. I hope you don't mind."

And he knew then, that in her own, old fashioned way, that was Blair Waldorf's answer to his question from months ago. Yes, yes, a million times yes.

That was the deal. And he sealed it with a kiss.
Part 1

Fanfiction: You, Me, and Humphrey

2009-10-12T20:05:27Z

Title: You, Me and Humphrey
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairings: Chuck/Blair/Dan
Rating: R
Summary: Threesome. Dan wanted to be a good person. Chuck wanted to spend a romantic, scheming evening with his girlfriend. Blair ends up winning at everything.

A/N: Okay, the title sucks, but it was a last minute thing. I foresee the suckitude of the impending, boring threesome (seriously, I'd rather see dead!Bart/Blair/Cece than... well, that), and I raise the CW writers this nonsense. Awkward? Yes. Implausible? Probably. Hilarious? Absolutely. It's not as good as the usual low standard I set for myself and I guess it's not even REALLY a threesome, but it's just for fun :).

Enjoy!

You, Me, and Humphrey
He couldn't believe that he was the one who felt bad about the whole thing. Chuck never felt like a bigger jackass as he sat in his dining room. Alone. No girlfriend. Instead he seethed with his bottle of scotch and he dared anyone who wasn't Blair to say anything about his manners in his own house. Why the fuck had he left an important meeting to rush home to an empty house? He pushed at his black bow tie and unbuttoned the top of his tuxedo dress shirt. It's not like he was going anywhere tonight.

He was just taking another sip when he heard a familiar, clumsy stutter that made him cringe, the very ends of his carefully styled coif curling in disgust. Why was Brooklyn trash desecrating his and Blair's private palace? Before he even saw his stepsister's pathetic ex (although, he must say, he preferred his annoying naivete to Carter's... well, Carter), he had his lines ready to kick him out. "We don't take in strays, Humphre- What the hell?"

She was like a rose stuck in manure, dainty and clad in a curve-hugging deep red gown, her dark, luscious curls trailing down Humphrey's arm and... and what the hell was Brooklyn doing carrying his girlfriend like that?

"Before you say anything, Bass-"

"We don't have to explain ourselves to him Humph-Dan. We're in love!" And the arm that had been wrapped around his shoulders to keep her balance drew him close to her lips.

"Enough! What's going on?"

"I already told you, Chuck. Now leave us." She waved her hand as if to dismiss him, her nose up in the air.

"Oh please, this is Humphrey we're talking about."

"Hey!"

"Shut up, Humphrey. Stay out of this."

"Um, in case you haven't noticed, you're the one nursing the booze, I'm the one holding the girl so..."

"The bedroom's that way, Cabbage Patch." The little chit looked spitefully back at him. "I call him that because we have such a loving relationship, we have pet names. Oh, and he answers the phone when I call!" She elbowed Humphrey in the chest and got his feet to move toward that direction.

"Uh-hem. Um, yes... sweetie?"

***
All Dan wanted to do was be a good friend and a good stepbrother. How in the world did he end up spending the night dragging an injured and cranky Blair Waldorf from party to party, trying to track down a woman possessed by the devil (Georgina) and the sleaziest man alive (Carter Baizen)? And how did he end up in the penthouse with her... and Chuck?

Chuck, who looked like he wanted to rip his limbs off with his eyes. And between those two he was still the lesser of two evils.

He laid the woman in the bed and even he had to admit, she looked like an old hollywood screen siren. You know, the kind of siren who lured you over the side of a ship so that your body will be destroyed by the tiny sharp rocks on the shore because Blair Waldorf would never just kill you, she made you suffer. He swallowed a nervous gulp as he heard the man's footsteps finally following them. He may have been surrounded by friends at NYU, but he knew well enough to know that Chuck and Blair still reigned supreme above 14th Street.

"Kiss me," he heard and before he knew it, she had her claws on his collar and was dragged down onto the bed, nearly crushing the small girl had his hands not settled first on the pillows... are those pillowcases 100% silk or something?

"BLAIR!"

"Do you hear something, sweetie?" She smiled sweetly up at him and for one fleeting second, Dan thought that it wouldn't be too bad to wake up to that smile everyday.

Or you know, that very very talented tongue in his mouth.

"I said, that's enough." Chuck, in a surprising feat of physical strength the likes of which Dan had never seen in all their years of schooling together (honestly, Dan didn't think he had it in him), pulled him back from his collar and went to cover his girlfriend with his own body. Was Dan jealous of a guy making out with his own girlfriend?

There's a first for everything.

Okay, maybe it's not a first.

"Ow, OW!" Blair's bottom lip was still trapped between Chuck's teeth when Dan pulled on the pant leg that was crushing her aching ankle. Dan felt all sorts of confused when Chuck glared at him while he was still sucking face with his equally stunning girlfriend.

"What's wrong with you, baby?" Chuck was flat out ignoring him now, wasn't he? It was for the better because there was no way Dan wanted his attention while Chuck was touching... that part of Blair.

"I twisted my ankle and Hu-Humphrey carried me home." He needed to get out of there. He couldn't handle the breathy quality of her voice when she pronounced the h, nor did he ever imagine that she could sound so...well, cute when she was, um, being pleasured, by Chuck Bass.

Maybe Serena had something there about the two wrongs and one very twisted, hot right.

He may have added the hot part.

***
"Dan, there's a compress in the freezer in the kitchen, could you-" She had never seen a Brooklynite run that quickly in her life. She thought they were all just lazy, poor, out-of-shape blobs. Well, she could now seriously debate the out-of-shape part because when he was carrying her, she definitely felt muscles in his shoulders that, as much as she loved the Basstard she was currently undressing, Chuck did not possess.

"You poor thing. Do you want me to book you a massage therapy session tomorrow to help you," her boyfriend kissed her, "relax?"

"Well, I can think of other things right now you can do for me." She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and kissed him again. "Or to me. Whatever."

This was going to be good. Chuck had that perverted smirk on his face that always promised a good night and just he was just telling her how great that sounded...

"I've got the compress-oh! And Chuck doesn't have a shirt on." Humphrey shielded his eyes from the couple lounging on the bed, holding the frozen block at arm's length.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Humphrey." Blair raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him and caught his attention. "In the locker room, Waldorf. Get your mind out of the gutter."

Chuck had this drawl that made everything he said incredibly entrancing and, matched with his eyes, she couldn't quite help but to press herself entirely to him, feeling the warmth from his bare chest through the thin, satin material of her dress. She was Satine and Chuck was her very wealthy patron. That could be a fun game.

Her ankle cried out and she winced - this was the last time she ever dueled Georgina with Martini glasses after splashing each other in the face and down the others' dresses (Blair secretly declared a victory seeing as how you could practically see down to her knees in Georgina's whore dress). Her little painted toes stuck out of the bed and she poked Humphrey with them. He may as well make himself useful.

He seemed to have finally learned the lesson of "resistance is futile" and she smiled when he sat at the end of the bed, her swollen ankle on his lap, and pressed the compress against her heated skin. The chills went all the way up her body and she arched and moaned in a way that was definitely not making Dan feel any more at home.

And he thought he had gotten past the whole socially awkward thing when he went off to college. Blair knew better.

The pack felt good against the sore muscle and the hand gently cradling her heel was tender and warm. It made her want to curl up next to...

Wait, what?

***
Humphrey was bringing the whole party down.

As usual.

But when Chuck pulled back, he saw the delicately curved eyebrow and his next thought was:

Oh fuck.

"Hey Chuck?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Remember how you completely ditched me in my attempt to exact revenge for your sister tonight?" He gulped and nodded. He knew he would have to pay for that telephone conversation. "Well, I have... an idea." And then she was nibbling on his earlobe that she knew rendered him speechless and thoughtless. He was really really going to hate this. "Let's have Humphrey join u-"

"W-what?" Of course a Brooklynite wouldn't see the golden opportunity in front of him. One that had Chuck shaking his head as though he were having a seizure. Blair sent him a glare that made the boy look back down and wait on her foot.

"Oh come on, Bass. You said you wanted to try a little menage-a-trois and who could possibly be less threatening than Humphrey?"

"All right, that's it. I'm leaving." When Blair demanded something, she could always see through the pain and reach for it. It was one of the qualities Chuck admired about her, but this time it came back to bite him in the ass.

Because watching his girlfriend yank the faux-writer by his skinny tie onto the bed and on top of her, well, that wasn't part of the plan for tonight. "You're not going anywhere, Humphrey." And she went in for the kill, her head lifted to pull his lips in just enough to lure the clueless idiot into her web.

Chuck supposed he would have to suffer through this, as Blair often indulged him in his own fantasies, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Although, he supposed that from NYU, Blair could have easier picked a dirtier, more hipster, and out of shape partner. He shuddered at the very thought. Still, when he thought menage-a-trois, he was thinking about bringing in a girl for Blair to explore. He wouldn't touch her (he liked his pecker the way it was, thank you very much), but there could not be anything hotter than his bold little vixen and... "Hey! Hands, Humphrey!" He understood the magnetic quality his girlfriend's delectable rump had on a fella's hands, but Humphrey best resist it if he wanted to leave the penthouse with all his limbs.

Blair quickly shot him a disapproving look before turning her attention to him (as she should), her body turned to the side, the dress draped around her curves. "Play nicely, Bass." And she granted him the softest of kisses that made his eyelids flutter and left him aching for more as she pulled away. "Nice boys get rewarded." Her hand brushed against his erection and now he remembered how she never played fair.

From over her shoulder, he spied that Humphrey had the same if-I-weren't-so-horny-I'd-stop-and-wonder-what's-going-on look.

It seemed that they had something in common tonight.

***
There was nothing hot about the way Blair touched Chuck through his pants. And in absolutely no way did he maybe get a little envious of Chuck freakin' Bass.

No, that's just impossible.

But there it was, Dan practically ripping at his own button down and pressing himself behind the girl, his groin against her ass and his hand gripping her shapely hip through the slippery satin. His other hand found the zipper at the back of her dress and slipped it down the curve of her spine. In the stepbrothers' first joint effort ever, they rolled the curve hugging gown down her body to reveal a stunningly fair expanse of skin that stretched lazily on the bed, feeling completely at home and confident in just her underwear and stockings.

Of course, Dan would too if he had two girls practically worshiping at his injured feet.

Dan could write line after line about that body and that face, but his first thought: damn, Chuck must have done something really good in his past life. He traced a finger down the side of her breast, waist, and the smooth round curve of her hips before lifting her leg behind his shoulder (something the doctor said about keeping it level) and kissing behind her knee. He nipped at the lily white flesh of her inner thigh until it tinted pink, all the while trying to ignore the way Chuck lavished his attention on her breasts in a way that was reminiscent of indulgent, lascivious dukes from period pieces. Her dark curls fanned out behind her and she twisted her body to match the moans that escaped from the back of her throat.

For a literary nut, it was mindblowingly hot and Dan had never ever wanted to associate anything that Chuck Bass did with the word "hot".

"If you leave a bruise, Humphrey, I'll kill you."

So the Bass monster did have a heart after all.

Dan responded with a soft kiss through the black lace, his nose pressed against her and he swore he could taste her breath, hot and heavy on his tongue. He brought his hands up to pull at the material, but was interrupted when he felt a hand grip his recently grown out hair, nails sharp against his scalp, and pull him up. "Aaaah..."

Before he knew it, Dan was on his back, shirtless, beltless and prey to the two people who made his life hell in high school.

***
Blair wanted to laugh, but the look Chuck was giving her made her bite her lip instead. She knew she was already pushing it, but even he had to admit this was exciting. And really, it's Humphrey. When all is set and done, he's too sentimental and hipster for her to ever consider anything with. She let Chuck yank off his pants, knowing he enjoyed that little show of power even as Humphrey looked mortified as all hell. It's understandable - Chuck had a way of destroying fabric, but she could replace those Old Navy pants a million times over.

Now was not the time to think about that.

Now was the time to feel his skin through her silk stockings as she straddled him and revel in the way his own eyes close at the sensation. She felt Chuck hold onto her waist behind her and kiss her shoulders even as she began to rock slowly on top of him. She let him take charge - pulling her panties aside and pulling down Dan's boxers as though he was offering her a gift, and eased her onto him.

"How are you doing, baby?" he mumbled into the shell of her ear.

"As you well know from playtime at Cirque du Soleil, sex heals all wounds." She hears his chuckle at the memory.

And then he was gone.

***
It should have been him and he should have been mad as hell, but Chuck couldn't deny the fact that Brooklyn and Blair were nice to look at. He was tan where she was fair and Humphrey just looked like such a lost little insect, angry red marks on his chest which he'll undoubtedly feel in the morning, trapped in her web.

He understood that feeling well.

He watched and he ached, granting his girlfriend this (because he knew she'd return the favor a million times over), and brushed his hand on himself. It wasn't unfamiliar, watching her and jerking off, but watching her with someone else was quite a bit different. The voyeur in him rejoiced slightly and she was right. It's just Humphrey, after all.

Because he's a man, and certainly, it's what men do, he observed that Humphrey may have been a tad larger than himself. Just a tad and it may have wounded his pride just the tiniest bit - but the way Blair could devour the boy helped him regain his confidence like nothing else. Few could consider himself an equal to the little spitfire, and Chuck considered himself one among the elite.

So what if Humphrey could probably throw a better left hook? There was no replacing the knowledge of using what one was gifted with in bed.

And he was so close, so close that he just wanted to tip himself over the edge when he heard her familiar cry, wordless because he knew he couldn't bear it if she had actually said his name and he nearly lunged at her, sending the two of them flying to the other side of the king-sized bed while Humphrey laid on the other side, trying to catch his breath. Chuck slipped into her easily and hit her in just the right spot that she arched against him, a leg coming around to wrap around his waist.

Chuck spared a shove at Humphrey's side until he rolled off the bed indignantly. Then he began to properly fuck his girlfriend's brains out.

***
Dan got the message and grabbed his clothes, not even bothering to put them on, and nearly leaped out of the room in gigantic strides like a clumsy ballerina. He pulled them on in the hallway and surveyed the damage - a missing button here, a small hole there, nothing too terrible. He wouldn't get arrested for indecent exposure, at the very least. He leaned his head back against the wooden door, and listened to the nearly pornographic noises from the other side. Was sex always like this for them because um... he might be doing it wrong then.

He started his walk of shame - that wasn't too bad. It wasn't exactly his first since his college life began. No, what the worst part was, he couldn't help but think he'd do it all over again if they'd let him.

lokiyan @ 2009-10-08T16:28:00

2009-10-08T20:41:34Z

This is the best thing to attach to any office wide e-mail:

Fanfiction: The Rose's Ruse (10/?)

2009-10-08T14:55:15Z

Title: The Rose's Ruse (10/?)
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: AU Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairings: Chuck/Blair, Nate, Jenny, Dan, etc.
Rating: M
Summary: Lord Harold Waldorf had fallen out of favor with the temperamental king and was beheaded. His property was split between the king's favorites, one of whom is the infamous Captain Charles Bass. Certainly, the lady of the house will not take this sitting down, or at least without messing with his head a bit.

The little hairs that escaped from the hair knot Dorota had so skillfully tied tickled the back of her neck as the breeze picked up on the hillside. Blair looked over the little village that had been her home for all her years and, while she resented its homeliness during all that time, she couldn't help the nostalgia that rushed up her nasal passage and stung her eyes with tears. She would be back, surely, but the heroine in her felt the ties that had been forming between her memories and every grain of dirt under the children's feet.

She wiped at her eyes when she heard footsteps behind her - so comfortable was she in this place that she could feel the very air move. "Don't worry. I'll take very good care of everyone while you and Chuck are away."

The past week had been tense between herself and the man with whom she had once fancied herself in love. "I know."

"Blair, I..." There were a million words caught within him, running miles through his veins and pounding against his chest. They just couldn't seem to find their way to his tongue. Instead, he brought his hand to the small of her back, where the bodice of her dress blossomed out into a flurry of rose and cream. He was so close, the tip of his fingers almost touched the boning of her gown, but he fought against his instinct and curled his fingers back into a fist.

She closed her eyes. Tears for everything they could have been stung at the back of her lids. Everything she dreamed when she first saw him step off the ship in his shining armor. "I have to go," she whispered. And she ran, down the small hill to where her mother stood by the carriage.

He watched her run and never once looked back.

* * *

"We're all set to leave then, yes?" Her voice sounded shaky even to herself and she took a deep breath to calm the way her insides jumped and shivered.

"Of course, milady." Blair furrowed her delicate brow. He had been acting like this for days and it was unnerving to say the least. The sudden genteel manner with which he paraded around her home disturbed her so much that she avoided him to the best of her ability and he seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

"How many days until you reach London? And do send me a post once you have arrived safely," Eleanor said, showing the first hint of motherly affection since Blair consented to her departure.

"Four, if we hurry. It would be much quicker by ship, but it seemed that Lady Blair rather objected to the idea."

"Hmph!" Blair protested from her seat high within the carriage. "It certainly will not do for me to make my debut from a pirate ship. Now come along, Bass. We should leave if we are to arrive at our first stop before nightfall. I would loathe to keep your companionship after dark."

He gave a wry grin, one that suited him much more than the polite smile that had haunted him for days, and she breathed a little easier when he climbed into the carriage beside her. Dorota followed suit. It would, after all, be devastating for Blair's reputation were she to travel alone with a man without a chaperon.

"Shall we, then?" With a jerk, the wheels began to move beneath him and by sheer instinct, her lace-gloved hand grasped onto the cloth covered flesh of his thigh beside her and his body gave a jolt. Dorota looked uncomfortably out the small opening of the carriage and prepared herself for a long, disturbing journey.

The ride was surprisingly silent. He rested his forehead against the wall with his eyes closed and when Blair spied his face, completely relaxed for the first time, she felt almost... motherly. He truly did possess the most striking features and the skin there, despite the lavish and philandering lifestyle with which he occupied himself, was smooth and contoured.

She swept a quick glance at her maid, who had been lulled into sleep by the steady rhythm of the road, and in an act of uncharacteristic defiance, reached out her hand, the fingertips of her lace glove just brushing against his prominent cheekbones lightly. She felt his jaw flex as she leaned her palm in and that simple motion enthralled her. The strength and hardness of his bones felt strangely masculine and the contrast between such a display and his current dress would have made her buckle at the knees had she been standing.

Her palm laid flat on his cheek and he remained motionless, eyes shut. She watched his face truly for the first time. He was quite handsome, despite his boorish behavior. His hair fell across his forehead just so and brushed his straight, honest brow. Only a devil could be so deceptively shaped. His nose, though not as straight and dignified as it could be, was not as pig-like as she used to imagine in her fits of rage. And his lips, they looked softer than she remembered from their one unfortunate encounter the night of her discovery.

He tilted his head just so, and she knew that she should pull away lest she was caught in such a compromising position, but she couldn't quite tear herself from him. Even at the very moment when he turned and placed a gentle kiss on the palm of her hand, she was frozen at the intimate gesture. She turned quickly again to Dorota to find that she was still fast asleep and when she returned her attention, she found his bottomless eyes setting her aflame.

She would burn in hell for this intrusion and she was certain of it.

So just as though he was scalding her, she flinched away but he had already gripped her wrist and peeled off her glove. The warmth of his hand seemed to radiate throughout the carriage and it felt impossible to take a breath. With his eyes ever on hers, he bent forward and placed a kiss on her wrist, his lips even hotter than his touch and she was certain she would faint.

She was moving in slow motion, even her eyelids moved at a decreased pace as she blinked. All the energy seemed to have been sapped out of her to the trail of kisses he was leaving as he continued his exploration to her shoulder until his face was so close that he was nearly upon her. He must have seen the way she burned red but if it deterred him at all, she did not notice.

Her lip trembled when she felt him on her neck and when he pulled back, his face was a hair's breath away. She felt him exhale, a burst of hot air against her lower lip, and his eyes drifted from hers to the fleshy petals of her lips. His nose brushed hers. "Chuck," she whispered, bothered and breathless. Only when he paused, his gaze meeting hers, did she continue. "This behavior is hardly fitting for a lord."

"Did you forget, Blair?" He tilted his, their noses brushing again as he angled towards her. "I'm a pirate."

"Never." It was as though a demon had possessed her being, because with her gloves discarded, her dainty fingers grabbed at his collar and pulled him to her. She felt his hand on the hip of her skirts and the small part of her that would have been scandalized - the part of her that would have remembered her father's teachings - was squashed beneath the mischievous child who once stole Daniel's clothes while he swam in the river. His tongue pulled that girl from her and in her place was a woman who wanted nothing more at that moment than this man.

The carriage gave a jerk and Chuck let out a curse that he most definitely did not learn at court. Dorota stumbled awake and only then did Blair remember her place. She pulled away quickly and threw her entire upper body to the other side of the seat, her elbow resting by the wall and her hand to her swollen lips. She avoided her maid's suspicious gaze even as her hand shook. "It is certainly warm in here, isn't it?" Blair said with a shaky voice.

Still mumbling beneath his breath, Chuck threw open the small window by his side and from behind him, Blair spied a rider astride a handsome horse. "Bass," a voice drifted in, low and sly - just as Blair had imagined the serpent from the holy Book. A face came into view and a pair of green eyes met here. "I was not aware that you had such lovely company. You're a lucky man, Bass."

"Apparently." This was a Chuck Bass she had never seen before. He sat and spoke with such a dismissive nonchalance that it seemed impossible that just a moment earlier, they had been... "Our presence is requested at court, so I'm afraid we cannot stop for a proper introduction."

A sly smile appeared on the stranger's face. "Well, then, I suppose I will have to meet your lovely acquaintance in London then, angel." With the sound of beating hooves, he was gone, just as abruptly as he crashed into her life.

"Who was that, Master Chuck?" Dorota, who seemed to have finally gathered her wits, asked.

"That." He paused, his brow more seriously than Blair had ever seen on him. "...was Lord Baizen." He tore his eyes from the empty window back toward her, still troubled. "And I'm afraid he's taken quite a liking to you."

* * *

He could feel the eyes of his female companions linger on him occasionally. Chuck knew that he was silent, pensive even, but the worry was not unwarranted. This new development could cause nothing but trouble. He had known Carter nearly all his life - learned a lot of his tricks from him, even. When it came to women, Chuck had yet to meet one who was impervious to Carter Baizen's charm and title. He should not worry so, because certainly, Carter had an entire harem of mistresses and wives just waiting to unleash their secret desires on him.

But damn, if Carter did not always favor that which was not his. From the way the rake looked at Blair, his intentions were transparent. For now, then, he would keep his distance. Feign disinterest. Perhaps if Baizen saw the lack of competition, his interest will wane.

Chuck spared a glance at those delicious lips that just moments ago he had been feasting upon. The nausea waged war upon his flesh and he had to close his eyes to stave off the headache from being so close to temptation. He was certain that he had never hated Carter Baizen as much as he did in that moment.

Chapter 9
Chapter 8
Chapter 7
Chapter 6
Chapter 5
Chapter 4
Chapter 3
Chapter 2
Chapter 1

Fanfiction: Under the Sun (1/2)

2009-10-08T14:30:24Z

Title: Under the Sun (1/2)
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters/Pairing: Tripp/Blair
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There are some things a man can never forget. Especially a man such as himself. AU as of Season 2

A/N: I promised a sequel to Secrets of Summer for several people so here it is, part one of two. I hope you guys enjoy it!

He held his noose in his hand, dangling it between his fingers, the black, silken material tenderly caressing each knuckle.

He was free.

He sat on the stone church steps and looked out onto the gravel bathed in orange street lights. It wasn't heroic or honorable. In fact, it was downright cowardly, but he knew he couldn't go through with it. Just one look, one conversation, and she cut the ties that bound him so tightly he doubted the blood pumping from his heart reached his fingertips. She saved him from making the biggest mistake of his life. He'd been pushed into a hole and just as they were about to throw the final chunks of dirt over his eyes and engulf him entirely, she came into sight and gave him the strength to dig himself out.

"So, what now?" The voice behind him was soft and comforting and for a moment, Tripp almost felt sorry for the rough times he gave his younger cousin on the Vanderbilt football field. He gave a simple shrug. His shoulders felt weightless enough to do that now. "Grandfather is furious, you know."

"Yea, but it was the right thing to do." There were few moments in his life where he was certain he did the right thing. There were almost always what ifs and second choices. What if he hadn't let Blair go back to New York that summer and forget all about him? What if he'd chosen to go for his masters and Ph.D in archaeology at NYU instead of law school at Yale? Yes, he had moments of doubts and times when he wondered how different his life would be if he had taken a different course, a right turn here instead of hanging a left.

All that said, at 24, he had done a total of two things that he was certain he would never come to regret - falling in love with Blair Waldorf, and walking away from that long, somber church aisle. The fact that neither he nor Maureen shed a single tear only further affirmed his decision. When he strode into the ladies' dressing room and saw her with her veil drawn back, he knew. It wasn't easy, but it had to be done. Their eyes met in the vanity mirror and for the first time since the beginning of their engagement, they had a mutual understanding.

This was going to be a marriage that neither of them truly wanted and one that neither would miss.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and even as he apologized, the lace from her glove scratched the side of his face. "You're not the boy I fell in love with. You haven't been for a while now. I think he got lost a few summers ago in Connecticut." She pressed his mother's ring into his palm and whispered, "good luck" before walking out the door and leaving him to stare at his reflection. He could hardly recognize himself; he must have aged ten years since he had first tackled Nate for a petite brunette and yet he knew it had hardly been three years.

He felt the life seep back into his complexion the moment he undid his bow tie and he held the blasted thing in his hand now, crushing it as it had crushed him.

"Maureen's being real cool about the whole thing. I heard her talking to her bridesmaids earlier."

"Yea."

"Are you going to say anything other than 'yea'?"

"Sorry, Nate. I'm afraid I'm not very good company right now."

"It's all right, man, I understand. If you need me though, just give me a ring. I'll probably just grab a movie with Blair or something." His cousin gave him a supportive pat on the back before ducking into the limo by the sidewalk.

Right then, even after he threw his future in politics in the fire along with his relationship with his college girlfriend, his grandfather and, by extension, his entire family, Tripp couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than 'just grab a movie with Blair.'

* * *
He walked back onto campus, shame-faced with a few documents in hand, and looked for the few professors he had from undergrad who might still remember him well enough to give him a recommendation. Law school was out of the question now - that was part of "the plan" from which he ran last minute. He hadn't heard a word from grandfather, and he was beginning to doubt if he ever would again

He sat at the back of the lecture hall and listened to the end of the introductory lecture on the Bronze Age and chewed on his finger nails, an old habit that had crept back just as suddenly as all the knowledge he'd pushed to the back of his brain rushed toward the foreground. He blew off his last semester as a senior, focused as he was with law school applications and all that. But just before - that fall semester with the bulk of his research for his honors thesis, he was challenged intellectually more than he had ever been in his life. It was exciting and stimulating, he could practically feel the sparks jumping across the synapses in his brain.

Just sitting there, listening to a lecture for lowly, easily impressed freshmen, he felt the small tingles running along the back of his neck again. He could feel the dirt beneath his fingertips and mentally answered all the questions the lecturer shot off. Yes, that was the- No, what kind of answer was tha- It proves that man had evolved from-

God, what had he been doing with his life these past two years?

He was so absorbed that he didn't notice the moment the lecture was over, the Power Point shut off, and the students eagerly poured out of the hall. He felt the tap of a cane on his calf and started to find his thesis advisor looking down at him.

"Ah, so the prodigal son returns."

While it's true that he had only been on the other side of campus, Tripp understood. "Feels good to be back, professor."

* * *
His grandfather was apparently not the only person who could get things done with a mere phone call. A lunch, a letter of recommendation from the director of Yale's archaeology department and a personal phone call from a prominent researcher in his field and he was a shoe-in for NYU. By September, he had read up enough to be ready for his first class and was settled into his (to his parents' dismay), beautiful Park Slope apartment. The view of Manhattan was amazing and sometimes, as he watched the glittering skyline with a small tumbler of scotch in his system, he wondered what Blair Waldorf was doing at that specific moment, just across the river.

Had he not been a Vanderbilt in his own right, it would have been a bit too "Great Gatsby" for his taste.

He actually found that website everyone was talking about. "Gossip Girl." Truly, the thing was a horrendous mess. He had higher hopes for teenagers with such good breeding but it seemed that in this demoralizing society, even the creme de la creme surrendered themselves to such boorish activity. And his Blair, he thought bitterly as he took another swig, fell victim to it all. If he had known what she was going through, what people said about her, he would have-

But what could he have done? She made it perfectly clear that she didn't want him or his help. It's just a shame that he couldn't quite help himself but to get tangled up in her life again. It would be all over soon, though. She would be gone to New Haven and he... well, he'll be walking down Park Avenue, tracing her footsteps.

* * *
It must have been fate. He was certain even as he stood there with his breath knocked out of him.

There she was, in the middle of Washington Square Park with the fountain as a backdrop, dressed in a wine colored sheath, white headband and pearls. He knew he was late for his class but how could he not stop and stare at the vision - because that's what it must have been. Why would Blair Waldorf be caught in the middle of his campus when she should be traipsing around his old alma mater?

The doubt, however, didn't stop him from turning and practically sprinting from her sight when that porcelain face looked up from her phone.

He had class to get to, after all. That's what he told himself anyway.

* * *

"You're a difficult man to track down, Tripp Vanderbilt."

She slipped delicately onto the desk in front of him, her hands clasped onto the edge and her body leaning forward just so with her curls teasing his arm. His hand twitched twice at the contact. "I assure you, Blair, that I would never try to escape you, of all people."

"Oh, is that why you turned and ran the minute you saw me in the park the other day? I must say I'm surprised at you, Tripp. I've never known you to be one to run."

"Yes, well, I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"Ah yes, the Maureen thing. Though I can't say there's a lot of love lost there. The two of us never seemed to really see eye to eye." There was something different about her. Ruthless, cold. She inspected her finger nails like a cliche villain from a movie and he wondered whatever happened to that girl who jumped into his arms after a football game. "So what are you doing here anyway, Tripp? I imagine William can't be too pleased with you skipping out on your family legacy."

"Archaeology. Ph.D program." She looked back at him and for just a moment, he fancied, that look in her eye was familiar and the smile on her lips sincere. Then slowly, she reached her hand up to his face, her fingertips brushing against his cheekbones then combing back his hair. He basked in her affection, eyes closed.

"I'm proud of you, Tripp. And happy."

* * *
"Let's get married." It slipped out when they were lying in bed one night and she just looked so beautiful that he couldn't help himself. He reached for her hand under the sheets and pulled her close. It was easy for him to forget that she was only nineteen years old when he couldn't remember a time before Blair Waldorf. Then there was the way she carried herself.

She had been an outcast, much to his surprise, when she first arrived at college. After all, she had always been the center of attention, or at the very least, the center of his attention. All of a sudden, it was as though someone had turned the lights out and no one could see her anymore. No one except that crazy roommate of hers.

He still remembered that night when she showed up at his apartment, drenched in rain, after ignoring his calls for two weeks after she met him at his tiny corner office in the library. She had thrown herself into him with such force that he fell back a few steps before finding his balance. She'd sobbed it all into his chest and he took it in straight to his heart. Every word.

When he walked her back to her dorm the next day, Georgina opened the door and her smile instantly dropped at the sight of him. At least the girl was smart enough to know not to mess with a Vanderbilt, even an exiled one at that. The two girls eventually came to an understanding, but Blair still spent a few nights a week at his place.

Last month, she started calling it "home."

She held the sheets to her chest and propped herself up on an elbow. "I would have settled for a 'Merry Christmas' instead, Tripp." He turned himself to face her and placed a hand on the curve of her hip. She fit perfectly to him and was warm through the sheets.

"Since when does Blair Waldorf settle for anything?"

She rolled her eyes and bit back a laugh before rolling them onto his back. "That's true. I even went for the superior Vanderbilt." He couldn't hold back the proud grin - even if his family had renounced him and he had given up his name - and he leaned up to kiss her left dimple before turning them over.

He kissed away her laugh even as his hands got tangled up in her hair.

* * *
Maureen was never one for occasions. She preferred a quiet meal and wordless smiles and because he was very much the same, their lives had passed by quietly and inconsequentially.

Blair was anything but.

He never made much of his birthday. Neither did his family, or his girlfriend and so for all his years of existence, it was just any other day of the year. Open celebration of oneself was, it appeared, tacky.

So Tripp was not expecting the bright banner, the balloons, the cake and the cheers when he entered his little office. And there in the middle of it all, was Blair, cheering him on. He stood for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob, surrounded by the friends he made in the department - friends who never ask about using his family's lodge in Aspen, friends who pat his shoulders when he complains about the pressures of being in his family rather than roll their eyes. He turned his face away to hide the emotion wreaking havoc in his jaw and brow.

Then he ran up to her, arms around her waist lifting her far above him where she belonged, and spun her into a kiss. "Happy birthday, baby," she murmured against his lips and he kissed her again, pouring out all the love and gratitude he held for her that threatened to burst through his chest.

She pulled away and felt the box thrust into his hands. "Open it!" She had that look in his eyes that he loved so much - the mischievous, sparkling look that watched as a plan of hers successfully unraveled before her eyes. Feeling much like he did when he was eight and his mother planned a secret party for the two of them and his maid, he opened it like he did that train set (his Grandfather disapproved of useless toys), and, to his surprise, he pulled out what looked to be a whip.

"Vanderbilt, you sly dog!" It was snatched from his hand and passed around like show-and-tell.

Amidst the cheers and embarrassment, he looked at her in confusion. She blushed bright red under the attention and he thought it was lovely. "Of course you'd take that out first." And she reached in and pulled the tan hat from the box and placed it on his head. "Some girls in the dorm were watching this show so I figured I'd try to, you know, join them and this guy on it, Marshall, gave his best friend the same thing for, you know, Indiana Jones and..." she trailed off. "It's stupid."

She'd remembered, even when he forgot, what he loved and dreamed of as a young, idealistic teen. He tilted her head up by the chin and held her eyes with absolute certainty before letting out the words, "I love it. I love you."

"Get a room, you two! It's time to drink!" He tore his attention away, her smile still hidden in the chest pocket of his polo, his arms still around her waist.

"How did you guys manage to sneak a keg past security?"

"Your girlfriend's magical, man. That one's a keeper."

Yea she really is, he thought. He looked down at her, his eyes tender with affection that seemed to grow exponentially, and when she looked back, he asked, "a keg?"

She shrugged, "it seemed to be a hit at Humphrey's party." Right, Humphrey. That was a disaster they didn't mention. At his worry, she rolled her eyes, "Don't worry. There's Dom at home."

Tripp had never been so happy to be born.

* * *
"You should go. I mean, what can it hurt? Isn't that what you told Nate last year for the family reunion?"

So he went, a firm hold on her small hand the entire time. They matched beautifully, he in a khaki colored Armani picked out from his mother and she in a light blue sun dress. Her white, wide-brimmed hat set off his crisp button down.

The reception wasn't what he expected. His cousins clapped him on the back, uncles and aunts alike shook hands with him and even Grandfather welcomed him back with open arms, just as he had with Nate. It was strange - he was never the impressive Vanderbilt. No one paid special attention to him because there really wasn't anything too special about him.

The weekend July retreat was a celebration of the family history and he found little to celebrate except his current, dream-like affair with Blair Waldorf. He could hold her hand as they strolled through the gardens and sit beside her at dinner. Like many of the wives and girlfriends, she stood on the terraces that faced the blocked off field and smiled and waved when he scored a goal.

He could have done without his Aunt Anne's withering glare and Nate's lingering glances, but sacrifices had to be made, prices paid. And oh, what he wouldn't give...

The backlash he received from that end of the family was soothed by the delight on Grandfather's face at the sight of them together. He even had a dress especially made for her for the mid-summer ball and as she drifted down those stairs towards him in baby blue chiffon, his heart gave a leap. In his plain, black and white tux, he felt unworthy as he bent and kissed her hand. She pecked him lightly on the cheek.

He tried his best to ignore the way Nate's blue dress shirt matched her dress perfectly.

Part 2

It's So Hard Finding Obedient Minions These Days

2009-10-05T19:32:31Z

It's so true! The two temps working under me: one is stupid and creepy, the other just bitches and complains all day - and he's only been here for like, 3 weeks!

Sorry, but your inability to find a better job despite your two degrees does not give you reason to sass me. And if he does it one more time, I swear I'm going full on S1 Blair Waldorf on his ass. I'm usually a great, laid-back boss, but doesn't mean I won't bite back if I'm pushed.

Seriously, what is this world coming to? In this economy, be glad you have an income at all. Just shut up and wait!

Fanfiction: To Breathe, To Burn

2009-10-05T00:12:32Z

Title: To Breathe, To Burn
Author: lokiyan
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters: Blair/William Vanderbilt
Rating: PG-13(?)
Summary: A drabble - for imp3ratrix , so she doesn't feel alone in writing them.

Eleanor Waldorf was one of perhaps four people in the world who ever dared to disagree with WIlliam Vanderbilt, but he supposed that such a superficial transgression could be forgiven. He had been staring at her four year old with glossy brown curls who sat with her hands in her lap, just as a lady should. "Your daughter's going to be a lovely force to be reckoned with, Mrs. Waldorf."

She had laughed flippantly. "Oh, you're a flatterer, Mr. Vanderbilt. But she's just a girl."

And it was just that girl who, with eyes that burned bright like starfire and lips as red as hell, became the one person to ever strike him. In his own home, no less. "No one uses me, William."

The mark was still hot on his face and he would be lying if he said if it weren't thrilling. But then again, he was a natural born liar. "I believe you need to learn you place, Ms. Waldorf."

"Oh, I know my place now, no thanks to you."

"I gave you everything you w-"

"You gave me nothing!" Her voice was loud and firm. It was neither shrill nor accusing, but instead echoed through the room in its honesty. She fell silent, her shoulders low with defeat. "And that's what I leave with you."

She turned in a flurry of purple silk, the nape of her neck drifting further and further away and he reached out his hand like a drowning man.

And he had her. Against the door with who should have been his granddaughter-in-law. He had her with bites and hits and curses and even if he gave as good as he got, he still came up short.

He was breathing in acid, but it was breathing nonetheless. He hadn't done that since he was a teenager.

Still, it burned like her eyes upon his shame and he kissed her softly again.

For mercy.