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The final scene that was intended to go in this chapter just absolutely did not want to happen there, so it's been moved to the beginning of Chapter Nine. So, so, so many apologies for the long wait, everyone. It was exam and paper time for me, and now I'm at work and it's the single busiest time of the year for us. Thank you so much for waiting for me! I hope people are still interested in reading this, haha. :3


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Title: "Until My Dying Breath" -- Chapter Eight
Author: emilianadarling
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Vampire AU with all the unpleasantness that entails. Dubious consent, violence, pain, bloodplay, blood drinking, sexualized violence, grotesque descriptions, dark setting, fear, minor past character death, intense dark emotions, brief contemplation of suicide in a previous chapter. Warnings on a chapter by chapter basis.
Length: 16,500-ish for this chapter
Story Summary: On his way home from campus to his apartment on the Upper East Side, Blaine Anderson happens to come across a beautiful young man with bewitching blue eyes. It doesn’t take long, though, for everything Blaine thought was real to fall to pieces. For his world to dissolve into a twisted dance of fear and heat and blood.

Notes: First of all, thank you so much for your patience with this chapter. Real life is busy as heck, and it's been very hard to find the time to write. Second of all, I swear to God I will reply to all of the comments on the previous chapter as well as this one. Thank you SO MUCH for your incredible feedback, and I'm so sorry to be so late in responding!

For those interested, my tumblr is here. I tend to post updates there about how chapters are progressing. :3





Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue



--


Things don’t start to feel anything close to real again for a few hours, after that.

For a long time, tucked into the lean line of Kurt’s side and swaddled by piles of soft blankets as his body slowly regains heat, Blaine drifts on the edge of awareness. Cool, confident fingers drift over his chest, and along the side of his face, and knead his determinedly numb fingers in an attempt to rub some warmth back into them. His ability to focus slip-slides and blurs as his body and mind attempt to come to terms with what has just happened.

It’s almost nice, like this. Pleasant and rewarding, even though he’s achy and sore all over and the side of his neck and thigh are still quietly throbbing. It proves to be impossible to entirely lose track of where he is, though, despite the unreality of it. The sound of Kurt’s voice does its best to keep him grounded in place, anchored to awareness. The high, clear sound of it is so close to his ear as it drifts and lilts with anecdotes and stories that Blaine can’t quite pick out the details of, his mind trailing absently along the narratives.

As sweetly as Kurt holds him, however, the other boy proves to be ruthless with making sure that he stays awake. Every time Blaine’s eyes begin to flutter properly closed, or his head slumps down a bit heavier against the pillows or Kurt’s shoulder, he receives a hard pinch to the arm. Every time, the small chastisement proves enough to jolt him back from the brink of muzzy darkness. Every once and a while, too, Kurt interrupts his stream of speech to adjust their positions on the couch, or ask Blaine a question, or force a few more cookies and sips of sticky apple juice down his throat like someone who’s just given blood at a clinic. The pinching reminders to stay awake even start to register as annoying, after a while. Irritating, because all Blaine wants to do is sleep and Kurt won’t let him.

He had half-expected Kurt to get bored of him after a few minutes and let him sleep in peace, but it doesn’t happen. Instead Kurt stays, holding him close and not showing even the slightest hint of impatience. His whole body is limber and relaxed against Blaine’s, and he shows no sign of wanting to move any time soon.

After an indistinct amount of time, however, the world begins to clarify a bit at the edges. Solidifying and sharpening, coming back into focus. The thick haze of need to sleep starts to lift, and Blaine blinks himself back into awareness enough to attempt to sit up a little straighter against the cushions. Kurt makes a pleased noise at the back of his throat at that, effortlessly helping Blaine to sit up a bit taller. Blaine can see the room around him a little bit more from the new angle, glasses still perched awkwardly on his nose from having someone else put them on his face. He can see part of a wall, now, and the corner of a sleek-looking television set.

And as Blaine’s mind becomes less and less foggy, Kurt’s words start to shift from meaningless sounds to something much more comprehensible.

“... came across another when I was living in Chicago in the 1970s,” says Kurt conversationally, stroking a hand down Blaine’s side with idle little movements. He laughs, high and light. “Absolutely dreadful fashion sense, too. Constantly at least twenty years out of date. Honestly, I don’t understand why it’s so hard for some of us to keep up. Poodle skirts right in the middle of disco?” A scoffing noise, and Blaine can practically hear the rolling of his eyes even though Kurt’s face is entirely outside his line of vision from his position curled against Kurt’s chest. “Ugh.” There is a little movement as Kurt shakes his head. “Anyways, after we’d scoped one another out, we decided to have a little... friendly competition.” A tiny rumble as Kurt chuckles, and the smirk is apparent in his voice. “With regards to the local population.”

It’s about at this point that Blaine decides that, no, he would really rather not listen to any of this at all. Stiffening and skin crawling with a renewed discomfort, he focuses his attention instead on tuning out the chatter of Kurt’s voice instead of tuning it in. This proves to be much more complicated now that he’s swiftly gaining awareness again, however. He tries his best, though, letting his eyes glaze over as he stares at the walls and attempts to reduce Kurt’s casual, horrific words to background noise.

Not too later, however, Kurt’s chattering voice trails off – and Blaine nearly startles right out of his skin when he receives a hard, jabbing poke to the middle of his stomach.

“Hey,” says Kurt’s voice in his ear. Another poke, abrupt and tactless, to the same place on his middle. “Hey.”

“M’awake,” Blaine manages, blinking in confusion when the words come out slightly slurred.

“That’s nice, Blaine,” Kurt returns, sounding a little bit amused but mostly gently condescending. Another hard poke to the shoulder, and ow. Those jabs hurt. Blaine squirms to sit up higher in his grasp, and Kurt lets him. “Do you think you can stay awake if I leave you alone for a bit? I have go do something.”

And this is all still so strange, and unhinged, and wrong. Because the way Kurt is talking to him... god, it’s so ridiculous that it’s almost funny. Blunt and upfront and ever-so-slightly playful, as though the situation is anything resembling normal.

“... ‘s’fine,” Blaine mumbles after a pause, and he feels the soft press of cool lips press against his forehead. Kurt’s hand slides under the collar of his t-shirt, and it’s not strictly sexual as it presses against the flat of his chest. Just... touching. Reassuring, although Blaine can’t be sure which of them Kurt is attempting to reassure.

“All right,” Kurt murmurs fondly against his curls, giving Blaine’s body one last squeeze before disentangling himself from the pile of limbs and blankets. He comes back into Blaine’s vision properly for the first time in a long while as he tucks the covers back around him in the makeshift bed.

As he leans over him, quietly fussing over the way the blankets rumpled when he tries to tuck them underneath Blaine’s sides, Kurt looks... calm. Almost normal except for how pale he is against the dark blue of his housecoat, and the otherworldly quality that Blaine had been so struck by that first night in the alley. There’s a sweet, private little gleam of amusement in his eyes as he edges the covers back around Blaine’s body, and all at once it occurs to Blaine how much of an invalid he’s being made to feel like. As though Kurt thinks he isn’t capable of anything at all.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” says Kurt, standing up straight and looking down at Blaine with his nose crinkling and his hands on his hips. He narrows his eyes. “No sleeping.”

“Okay,” says Blaine quietly in response, a strange numb feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

Sending a small twist of a smile in his direction, Kurt turns and heads down the hallway back into what Blaine knows to be his bedroom.

And for the first time, Blaine has an opportunity to take in the room around him.

They’re in an apartment, not a house. Now that the world has fallen back into place, that much is clear. Although it is at least twice the size of Blaine’s cramped little place, there’s no way the particular layout could conceivably belong to a freestanding home. The entire space speaks of the same understated modernity that had characterized Kurt’s bedroom: minimal clutter, neutral cream walls, sleek dark flooring that shines as though it has been recently cleaned. All of the windows are covered up meticulously with the same dark film as in the bedroom, heavy dark curtains hanging attractively and unnecessarily on either side. As with the bedroom, the warm glow from several lamps gives the space a sense of forever-evening that makes it impossible to know what time it actually is. The living room is large, full of handsome couches and square bookshelves with bright red accents nestled amongst the sparse books and movies. Across from the couch that Blaine is currently lying on is an expansive, thin television mounted on the wall – and on the coffee table sits a basket full of decorative wicker balls next to a futuristic-looking remote. There is a hallway leading out that Blaine knows leads to Kurt’s bedroom and the bathroom.

Craning his aching neck to see over the back of the couch, Blaine can see a closed door with no differentiating features – as well as an absolutely gorgeous kitchen. Glossy and contemporary, the cabinets are dark and topped with marble-looking counters. Everything is lined and accented with the metallic glint of chrome.

His mother would be beside herself to cook in a kitchen like that, he catches himself thinking – and his heart tightens and catches in his chest.

It’s a beautiful apartment, and although Blaine has no idea which neighbourhood or even which borough of New York it’s located in he can tell just by looking at it that it must cost a fortune. But aside from the quiet noises of movement coming from Kurt’s own bedroom, the whole apartment is quiet and still in a way that makes him certain that no one else lives here.

And Blaine... doesn’t really know exactly what he was expecting. Perhaps one of the covens described in some of the books of lore he had poured over so intensely; some kind of dark family to share in the sport and play that Kurt seems to enjoy so much. A community of immorality, and lavishness, and monstrosity like the kind he’s read colourful myths about. But it’s clear even at a glance that only Kurt himself occupies this space: that he keeps it clean, and neat, and nicely decorated.

Blaine wonders who the last person to see the inside of this apartment was.

He wonders if they’re still alive.

From the depths of Blaine’s memory, Kurt’s words from the park bench are coming back to them. The ones that Kurt had whispered, his breath tickling teasingly over Blaine’s lips, right before leaning in to kiss him for the very first time. Somehow, despite all the fear and time that has passed since then, Blaine can still hear them clearly in his mind as though they’ve been imprinted on the very material of his brain.

“Are you lonely, Blaine?” Kurt asks, quiet words and slow breath ghosting over Blaine’s skin. He’s so close now, only inches away, eyes dark and private. He trails his gaze from Blaine’s eyes, down to his mouth, and back up again. “You don’t have to be lonely.”

For the very first time, it occurs to Blaine to wonder whether Kurt might just be lonely, too.

The sound of soft, padding footsteps is coming from down the hall, growing steadily louder as Kurt comes closer. Blaine knows for a fact that his hearing them is entirely intentional: he remembers all the times that Kurt had appeared without a sound outside his apartment door, announced by the dragging scratch of nails and cooing words and without a single footstep to indicate his arrival.

The fact that Kurt is intentionally allowing Blaine to hear his movements – that he has decided to let Blaine be reassured by knowing where he is, and when he’s coming back, and what is happening around him – makes something uncomfortable and tight twist in the base of his stomach.

A few seconds later, Kurt steps back into the room. The blue housecoat is gone, as is the messy bedhead that had made him look so achingly, tragically young. Instead, he is dressed in a floaty sort of turtleneck shirt and a pair of jeans that are loose enough for Blaine to know that they constitute Kurt’s idea of dressed-down. His formerly mousy-looking brown hair has been styled into something of a twisting sweep, and he smells strongly of hairspray.

Glancing over at the couch with a tight, wary expression as he comes into the room, Kurt relaxes as he sees that Blaine’s eyes are still open. Something affectionate steals across the pale, sharp lines of his face; a smile tugging at the corner of his expressive mouth, a certain softness in his eyes. Blaine’s neck and thigh ache and throb dully in reminder.

And all at once, three things occur to Blaine in rapid succession: he is hungry, he is thirsty, and he desperately has to use the bathroom. The ache in his stomach, the dryness in his mouth, the uncomfortable pressure on his bladder; all three things had been shoved aside for the past few hours by the haze of unreality. But now all three sensations are back with a vengeance. Absurdly, Blaine has never felt more human than he does now: weak and vulnerable, with a body that has to be maintained and fuelled and taken care of. That isn’t frozen in time and effortlessly stunning, a living piece of art that never fades and never changes.

Cheeks heating up as Kurt moves closer, Blaine struggles to disentangle himself from the tightly tucked-in mound of sheets. Before he can get even half-way emerged, though, Kurt is across the room and at his side. His hand grips at Blaine’s bare arm in a way that isn’t painful, per se, just... uncompromising.

“What are you doing?” asks Kurt, tilting his head pointedly to one side and fixing Blaine with a stiff stare. His face is tense, and he one of his eyebrows raises up minutely. For a second, it occurs to Blaine to wonder if Kurt is actually concerned about how he’s going to react. How he’s going to take all this, now that he’s waking; what he’s going to say.

It’s a ridiculous notion, but it wisps along the edges of his mind nonetheless.

“Nothing,” says Blaine thickly, slowly moving his arm out of Kurt’s grasp. Kurt lets his fingers loosen, lets his grip be tugged loose, and Blaine has no idea what this malleability means. He looks right up into Kurt’s eyes, though, trying to look confident. He can’t quite push away the illogical flush of humiliation rising in his cheeks, though. For some reason, the fact that he’s a human being – with all of the mundane, sordid little things that that entails – is almost embarrassing to him in this moment. “Just... bathroom.”

“I’ll help you,” says Kurt smoothly. “Here.”

He shifts, moving to hook his arms under Blaine’s shoulders, and... no. No, no, no, no, no because that is just... that’s too much. He already feels enough like a rag doll and an invalid and a cripple without Kurt helping him go to the bathroom, and this is his kidnapper, technically, and Blaine just... he can’t. Even with everything Kurt’s seen, everything Kurt’s done to him today, this is just too much. Face burning, he tries his best to wriggle out of Kurt’s solid arms.

“I don’t –” Blaine starts, words choking in his throat. “You don’t have to – I can do it myself, it’s fine.”

Around him, Kurt’s arms stiffen. He pulls away after a brief moment, tilting his head to one side and giving Blaine a silently analyzing look that makes his thin brows draw together and his forehead wrinkle.

Something hot and uncomfortable twists at Blaine’s insides as he sits on the receiving end of the look, and he genuinely has no idea whether Kurt is trying to be patronizing or whether it’s unintentional. Maybe Kurt just has no idea how to handle a human being for anything longer than a few hours of heated touches and spilled blood, let alone someone who’s injured that he intends to keep breathing. Blaine has a niggling suspicion that none of Kurt’s string of pretty corpses has ever made it past a single encounter with him, and it’s almost as though Kurt has forgotten what’s embarrassing and what’s acceptable when dealing with normal people for extended amounts of time.

After a considering pause, Kurt inclines his head in a small nod of acquiescence.

“All right,” says Kurt quietly. His eyes flick down to Blaine’s limbs, still tangled and snared in the mess of blankets. “Let me help you to the door, at least. I don’t have to carry you,” he rushes to explain as Blaine opens his mouth to say something. Now that Blaine is able to think in a straight line again, the idea of being slung up in Kurt’s arms and deposited somewhere like an inanimate object is enough to get his hackles up. “I’ll just... support you while you walk. Would that work?”

There is a pause while Blaine considers this alternative; his legs still feel a bit wobbly and sore from being in the same position for so long, and at least it wouldn’t be as pathetic as being carried. He nods, irrationally thankful to be asked for permission for something to matter how small the matter might be. Kurt’s pale face stretches into a pleased smile.

“Okay,” Kurt nods, an understated grin tugging at his lips as he busies himself with methodically extracting Blaine’s legs from the tangle of sheets and blankets. When they’ve all been pushed aside, he stands and extends a long-fingered hand, palm up, for Blaine to take.

And when Blaine reaches out to accept the hand, the coolness of Kurt’s skin is only a little bit surprising to touch.

Kurt pulls him easily and smoothly to his feet, and when he puts weight on his legs Blaine’s inner thigh screams and aches in protest. He stumbles slightly, the room lilting and lurching violently from standing up after spending so long sedentary on the makeshift bed, but Kurt holds him close and firm. Doesn’t let him fall down, but doesn’t just roll his eyes and nonchalantly pluck Blaine off his feet either. Instead, Kurt holds him solidly around the shoulder and keeps him standing until his head stops spinning and everything settles back into reality. After a few seconds, Blaine nods – and Kurt leads him slowly back into his bedroom.

They walk together like something out of a very strange three-legged race. Even though Blaine’s legs feel prickly with sensation and his knees are far less sturdy than he would like after the shock of earlier’s intense emotional release, he is still able to put one foot in front of the other as Kurt helps him quietly along. He focuses on one step at a time, one foot in front of the other as he regains control of his body enough to walk in a straight line.

When they pass through the bedroom, Blaine can see that the bed has been stripped. The sheets, stained dark brown-red with drying blood (his blood his blood oh Jesus), are piled in a corner, and Blaine has to look away quickly to suppress the wave of nausea that rolls over him. His eyes land instead on a fresh set of sheets, neatly folded and resting on a chair, that are clearly intended to replace the ones stained with his own blood. With the bedding gone from the bed, Blaine realizes that the mattress has been zipped up in a thick plastic casing. After a second of staring at the little smears of dried blood on the plastic cover, he realizes that it must be there to protect the mattress from getting bloodstained, and how very intensely and intricately Kurt has planned out so many of the details makes him feel momentarily lightheaded with discomfort.

When they reach the bathroom, its light still on from what happened in here before, Kurt waits for Blaine to reach up and take hold of the doorframe before he moves away. Trying to force his mind away from the pile of bloodstained sheets in the other room, Blaine grips at the doorframe with both hands in order to keep himself standing without Kurt’s support.

But Kurt doesn’t leave him there; not yet. Instead, he just keeps on giving Blaine that same look he gave him in the living room; the one that makes Blaine feel as though Kurt is pushing his skin aside and seeing what’s underneath. As though Kurt is comprehending something important about him for the very first time. Blaine twists under the gaze, and Kurt tilts his head to one side before reaching up to run his fingertips very softly along Blaine’s cheek.

“So stubborn,” Kurt murmurs, quiet and affectionate and distant as his fingertips trail along Blaine’s skin. Not sure what to say in response, Blaine remains silent as he clings to the wooden doorframe. Kurt’s eyelashes are thick, and his fingertips are soft, and after a moment he leans in and brings their lips together in a quick kiss. The press of Kurt’s lips against his is soft, and kind, and it makes the side of Blaine’s neck throb with memories. But it doesn’t even last long enough for Blaine’s eyelids to flutter closed before Kurt is pulling away again, leaving Blaine blinking in the doorframe.

“Let me know if you need help walking back,” Kurt instructs him sternly before turning around, heading back out to the living room, and leaving Blaine alone and shaky on his feet in the doorway.


--


As soon as the door is closed behind him, Blaine walks to the chrome-and-glass sink, grabs the fancy drinking cup off the edge, and promptly fills and consumes three full cups of tap water. His throat aches as he greedily and messily swallows the water down, his dry mouth and empty belly finally somewhat assuaged after so long without anything to ease them. He gasps wetly as he empties the third cup, one hand gripping hard at the glass counter as he savours the taste of cold water in his mouth, sliding down his throat in thick gulps. The refreshing, necessary chill of it brings him back to reality more properly than anything else has so far.

Not even daring to look at the mirror (to see what he looks like after everything, after giving up) or the shower (where everything was so hot and flushed and close but at least he knew what to expect), Blaine replaces the cup on the glass counter and stumbles over to use the toilet to relieve the aching pressure on his bladder.

When Blaine heads back to the sink to wash his hands, finally starting to feel like a person again instead of a heap of human needs, he cannot stop himself from looking into the mirror to see his own reflection.

The puncture wounds on his neck draw all of his attention, at first. They stand out sharply in the warm, glossy light and make something uncomfortable and blunt twinge inside. The two twin marks are stark and deep and raised against the skin, the skin around them raw and red. They’re ugly, and unpleasant, and they strain and ache when he tilts his head to get a better look at them. Blaine can even see the faint shininess around the wound where Kurt applied the antibiotic ointment earlier. After a minute, Blaine’s eyes trail up to take in the rest of his reflection.

Feeling dimly horrified, Blaine stares at the reflection that is practically unrecognizable as himself. Gone is the young man he always tried his best to embody, with the winning smile and the slicked-down hair who roamed the halls of Dalton and tried so hard to find a home in New York City. Instead, there is a small, rumpled boy staring back at him who looks very much unsteady on his feet. His hair is a wild mess, uneven from being washed and then shoved up against Kurt’s chest while it dried. The glasses perched on his nose give him an air of disorganization, and his own pyjamas seem to hang a bit loose on his body. Although genetics have made it impossible for Blaine to actually be pale, per se, there is an unfamiliar lack of colour beneath his skin that makes him look weak and strained. The red marks stand out angrily against his neck.

They look like war wounds.

Except that Blaine isn’t getting out of this alive.

He stares into his own hazel eyes reflected back at him for a long, long time before he flicks off the bathroom light and slowly heads back down the hall.


--


When he steps shakily back into the living room – he hadn’t wanted to call out for assistance even though his thigh burns with every step and his head remains determinedly woozy – the entire common area is steeped in the warm, practical smells of food cooking. Stomach grumbling loudly, Blaine stands and blinks as he takes in the very bizarre sight of Kurt efficiently cutting red potatoes into quarters on a large wooden cutting board on the kitchen island. There is a pan on top of the stove full of softly simmering chopped onions growing slowly more and more translucent from the heat, the savoury smell filling up the air.

Kurt doesn’t look up as Blaine enters the room, his attention fixed firmly on the cutting board in front of him as he slices thick pieces of potato, handling the knife in his hands with business-like precision. He does, however, incline his head pointedly in a wordless gesture toward a large brown wing-back armchair that Blaine swears used to be against the far wall of the living room. It isn’t there anymore, though; while Blaine was down the hall, Kurt apparently took the opportunity to drag the chair over to sit in the entrance of the kitchen. All of the blankets and sheets have been moved from the couch, as well; they now lie piled on top of the armchair.

The message is very clear and brooks absolutely no opposition. Feeling cold inside and still a little slow on his feet, Blaine walks over to the newly-positioned armchair and settles himself into it. The blankets are still pleasant to wrap around himself, actually; the tips of his fingers and toes are still determinedly cold. Now that he’s had water and relieved himself, the only real thing Blaine can think about is how very hungry he is. His stomach grumbles and twists when Kurt empties a small bowl of cut-up pork into the saucepan, the smell of browning meat making his mouth water.

“I hope you like stew,” says Kurt airily, looking up at him for the first time now that Blaine is appropriately curled up in his designated seating area. Kurt quirks an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to need to keep your strength up over the next little while. You’re thin as a rake, Blaine, I swear. Have you even been feeding yourself these past weeks?” He tuts loudly as he grinds fresh pepper over the saucepan, shaking his head. “Luckily you have me to take care of you.”

When Kurt places the pepper grinder back in place on the kitchen counter, he shoots Blaine a measured glare. “Don’t even think about not eating out of some misguided sense of honour, by the way. I’d be very unimpressed.”

“I wouldn’t,” Blaine admits, twisting his hands in the blankets wrapped around him.

It’s true, too. Aside from the almost painful way his stomach growls and lurches at the smell of the food, the quiet fact of Kurt’s victory is draped over the both of them like a physical presence. The fact that Kurt has won is utterly inescapable, now. It’s over, and done, and he’s already taken everything that Blaine could conceivably want to keep from him.

Even if the fact that Kurt is keeping him alive to play with makes Blaine feel knotted up and snapped apart, it doesn’t change the reality of the situation. However long this lasts before Kurt decides to turn him, Blaine still has to comply with whatever Kurt wants in order to keep the people he loves from being hurt. Kurt sends him a satisfied little smile over his shoulder, clearly feeling the thrill of Blaine finally listening to his instructions without putting up a fight, and begins to chop away thick chunks of cabbage.

And Blaine has honestly never let himself think this far ahead. What happened in the bedroom, and afterward in the shower... that, at least, he had expected. When Blaine surrendered himself and invited Kurt inside, he had done so complete with the unshakable knowledge that certain things were going to happen. It’s not done yet, Blaine knows that; he’ll be nursed back to health and bled and fucked out until Kurt gets bored of his taste or his heat or his fragile body. Even though the idea of being turned into something inhuman and wrong and not him makes Blaine feel cold and empty and dull inside, however, he had given himself over fully knowing it would happen. He knew when he opened the door that Kurt would drink from him, and that Kurt would fuck him; the other boy had never been particularly coy or subtle about any of those intentions during their long weeks of fear-filled conversations over the phone or through Blaine’s apartment door.

But Blaine has never truly managed to get his head past the prospect of Kurt’s teeth puncturing into his neck; has never let himself consider all of the in-between moments amid the pain and pleasure that Kurt has been promising him for weeks. Being held tight against Kurt’s chest as they lie together on the couch, or Kurt cooking him dinner with the same focus and precision he pays to everything else. How the two of them would interact outside of those few anticipated factors.

It’s surreal. Surreal and confusing and it makes his head hurt, because it’s harder to remember that he isn’t here of his own volition when everything is so normal. When Kurt is acting like the boy he met in the alley all those weeks ago and not the monster Blaine has seen him become.

“Do you even eat?” Blaine blurts out, eyes fixed on the cool, quick movements of Kurt’s pale hands as he finishes chopping the cabbage. Kurt’s hands freeze mid-motion, and at once Blaine is gripped with the immediate and irrational fear that what he said might be considered rude. “I mean... I don’t know. When I was trying to... to research you,” Blaine falters, feeling a sharp jab to his chest as he remembers elegant brown hands and steaming mugs of tea and piles upon piles of reference books. He lets out a little breath, wrenching himself forcibly back into the here and now. “... when I was trying to learn more about you, I mean. Everything seemed to be a bit... unclear on that.”

But Kurt is laughing quietly, a little trill of a chuckle. He walks over purposefully to the refrigerator, opening it up and extracting a container of packaged broth. In the split second that the fridge door is open, Blaine catches sight of the very small and centralized amount of food amid the white expanse of its insides. His stomach twists, and he wonders how long that much food can last. When Kurt turns around, he is wearing a smile that stretches his lips wide.

“I don’t eat,” Kurt confirms amusedly, walking back to the patch of counter he’s utilising and depositing the broth on top of it. He sends Blaine a wicked grin, blue eyes sparkling with something deeply private and slightly sly as he runs his eyes over Blaine’s body. “Well,” he says, his gaze sliding down to rest on the side of Blaine’s neck. The wounds there pulse as Kurt stares at them, straddling the line between playful and serious. “I suppose you could say I’ve already eaten today, if you want to be precise about it.”

The heat of a humiliated flush is creeping up Blaine’s neck, into his cheeks. He blinks hard, forcing himself not to reach up and cover the exposed wound with his hands. Blaine can practically feel Kurt’s eyes tracing over the rawness of the punctures; can almost feel him remembering what it was like to drink from Blaine for the first time.

And not the last, says a voice in the back of Blaine’s head.

“But your kitchen,” says Blaine, trying to break the moment. He looks up and catches Kurt’s eyes; they look darker than usual, and it makes something tighten hot and wrong in the base of his spine. “It’s... you’ve got pots, and pans, and food. You know how to cook.”

Kurt sends him a look, stirring the meat and onions with a brand new-looking wooden spoon. “I can still remember the basics,” he says dryly, arching an eyebrow. “My mom died when I was little, remember? I was always the one who did the cooking and cleaning while my dad was at work. It’s a bit like riding a bicycle, cooking again.” He stares down at the gently-simmering contents of the pan, wrinkling his nose. “Well. I might ask you to be the one to taste test this, though. It’s... mmm, no, not really appealing to me.”

But that doesn’t answer everything. “What about the cookware?” asks Blaine, an insidious suspicion already growing in his mind. Kurt shrugs as he empties the contents of the pan into a large pot, not looking him in the eye.

“I knew you were going to be staying here, didn’t I,” says Kurt neutrally, voice slightly stiff as he adds the chopped-up cabbage to the stew pot. “I like to be prepared.”

The words ring in Blaine’s ears. He blinks, looking down at his lap it occurs to him again just how much Kurt has been anticipating and organizing to prepare for something that Blaine had been so, so desperate to escape from. The plastic sheets, the food in the fridge, the newly-purchased cooking implements. He wonders, for a moment, just how much food Kurt had decided to purchase; how long he’s planning to keep Blaine the way he is.

For the first time, as well, it occurs to Blaine to wonder how it is that Kurt supports himself. He bites down on his lip, eyebrows furrowing as Kurt putters about the quietly chic kitchen as he gets everything ready to simmer. This is obviously an expensive apartment, for one thing. Blaine has never seen any evidence that Kurt has some kind of civilian job, not that he would be able to hold onto any kind of position that required him to make appearances during the daytime. How can Kurt afford to ruin expensive sheet sets as though they’re nothing, and buy an entire kitchen set on a whim?

The idea of Kurt – beautiful and deadly, wrapped in fear and power and mercilessness, who is an actual creature out of a storybook – working as some kind of office drone to make ends meet is just too incomprehensibly ridiculous for Blaine to visualize. Besides, Kurt had spent so many of his nights in the past while stalking and harassing and terrorizing him that he couldn’t possibly have had time to hold up an ordinary job in the meantime.

From what Blaine can tell, Kurt is just finishing the last touches for getting dinner ready to sit and cook on its own. He empties a container and a half’s worth of broth into the pot, turns up the heat – and the homey smell of warming vegetable-filled broth begins to waft and spread throughout the house like a physical presence. It hits Blaine right in the chest like a blow, and his mouth falls open as memories rush to the forefront of his mind in the way that only the sense of smell can dredge up.

Tucked up in the chair, Blaine blinks hard as memories and sensation, smells and feelings all flood into his mind. Sitting in the kitchen of the house he grew up in, watching his mother ready stews and adobo while she chatted happily about whatever would happen to come into her mind. The smell of broth, and the warmth from the oven, and the way she used to laugh with her whole body. The way she would wrap him in her arms whenever he was having a bad day.

And all at once, the phone conversation with his mom and dad – when he said goodbye to them, the first and last time he and his dad were ever going to understand each other, oh god – rushes up and catches him in the throat. It’s still so fresh, and so painful; like pressing down hard on an open wound. Blaine’s face feels suddenly so much hotter than the heat from the stove should warrant, and his throat clenches thickly. From the blocked windows in Kurt’s apartment, Blaine has no idea what time or even what day it is. It could have been only a few hours ago that he said goodbye to them. Or maybe it’s been over a day, or more than that; there’s no way to tell.

They might even know that something is wrong by now. The realization makes his eyes sting hot for a moment, and he blinks hard against it as the world blurs.

In front of him, Kurt inhales deeply and freezes. When he turns to face Blaine, his brow is furrowed. “Hey,” he says quietly, and only then does Blaine feel something wet and hot escape and slide pointlessly down his cheek.

And all at once, Kurt is right in front of him; kneeling in front of the armchair with a puzzled and apprehensive look on his perfect, angelic face. Leaning in close, Kurt leans up with a cool hand and swipes the tear away. As though to get rid of any physical manifestation of distress is enough to make it go away.

“Don’t cry,” says Kurt quietly, his clear voice tampered down with surprise and bewilderment. “You don’t need to cry.”

He sounds genuinely at a loss as to how to respond to the sudden change in mood. As though he honestly cannot think of a reason that Blaine could possibly be upset.

“... I’m never going to see my parents again,” Blaine whispers, the words thick and heavy as he speaks the words into the air for the very first time. He knows this, already; has come to terms with what it would mean, trading in his life for theirs. But saying the words out loud brings the ache of it to the surface, touching a pressure point. Makes his eyes sting again, no matter how much he doesn’t want them to.

Kurt’s hand is still lingering along his hairline, drifting over the skin comfortingly.

“No,” Kurt responds, straightforward and simple. His voice is high and clear in the stillness of the moment, and for a moment he sounds so very old despite the youth that slides over his skin like a mask. He gently tilts Blaine’s face with his hand, guiding him so that he has nowhere to look except for right into Kurt’s eyes. They are blue, and endless, and for the life of him Blaine cannot tell if there is any pity in their depths at all. “No, you won’t.”

It’s... hard, hearing it like that. Stark and raw and so, so unforgiving. Blinking hard to force away the persistent stinging, Blaine attempts to incline his head ever so slightly downward to avoid the full brunt of Kurt’s stare. But the pressure of Kurt’s fingertips against Blaine’s cheek increases. Almost imperceptibly at first, and then firmer when Blaine tries to look away in spite of it. Kurt is refusing to let him look away, looking into his eyes with an intensity almost bordering on manic.

For a second, and for the very first time since waking up in a strange bed with Kurt’s arms wrapped around him like a loving cage, Blaine feels sudden and acute fear ripple through him. Squirming and twisting from underneath that look.

“Don’t worry, Blaine,” Kurt murmurs, unblinking and shaking his head the smallest amount back and forth as he speaks. His eyes are riveted to Blaine’s own as he speaks, and each syllable is practically shivering with quiet intensity.

And slowly, very slowly, Kurt’s fingers move downwards; sliding along Blaine’s jaw and down to the side of his neck. Kurt’s fingers circle the two twin wounds deliberately, his eyes leaving Blaine’s for the first time to watch the movement of paler fingers along darker skin and raw red wounds. The touch shoots a little bursts of pain up Blaine’s throat when Kurt’s presses down, and Blaine sucks in a sharp breath.

A cold jolt of primal fear shoots up Blaine’s spine, his legs feeling ever so slightly liquid and weak beneath him. He staunchly presses down the instinct to run because it’s useless, pointless, wouldn’t get him anywhere and he can’t. Has to let Kurt to whatever he wants because it’s over, he lost, and he can’t risk anyone else’s lives when his is already gone.

But instead of hurting him, Kurt is suddenly kissing him. Hard and hot, a crush of lips against lips as he presses right into Blaine’s space. He worries Blaine’s lower lip between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to avoid drawing blood and pressing his fingers into the puncture marks on Blaine’s neck all at once. The twin pains make Blaine gasp wetly against Kurt’s lips, and Kurt takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Blaine’s mouth. Claiming, taking, taking what he wants again and disregarding everything else.

By the time he pulls away, both of them are breathing heavily. Every nerve in Blaine’s body is steeled and perched on the very edge.

“Don’t worry,” breathes Kurt against Blaine’s mouth, ragged and convicted. His fingers ghost over the wounds once, twice, almost like a reassurance. “I promise you won’t miss them, beautiful. You won’t. Not once I make you like me.”

And nothing Kurt could have possibly said could have hurt as much as that.

“We’re going to be so good,” Kurt murmurs, seeming not to notice that Blaine’s heart has fallen into the base of his stomach and everything is flashing white in front of his eyes. Doesn’t notice the way everything feels suddenly so cold and wrong and soon, too soon, and he doesn’t want to lose them to himself like that. Can’t even think about it, can’t even imagine it. His mom and dad, devastated and trying to find him and Blaine unable even to care.

It’s a repulsive thought, and it makes him feel hollow and horrible so, so lost.

Without pause, Kurt moves down to mouth against the side of Blaine’s throat where the skin is already broken. It makes Blaine’s whole neck throb with renewed aching soreness, and he clutches his fingers into the loose material of Kurt’s shirt.

“It won’t be me, though,” Blaine chokes out, sounding almost childish as the words sink and settle with horrible, horrible sadness in the pit of his stomach. He can’t tell if the words are a denial, or a defence, or just something to fill the gaping space inside. His eyes are stinging, and he shakes his head and blinks hard against it. “It won’t be me.”

But Kurt just sucks hard, groaning helplessly around the wound.

“Of course it’ll be you,” says Kurt dismissively, licking a long line along Blaine’s neck. Blaine shivers at the empty reassurance, not even sure that Kurt heard what he’d said, and he can feel one of Kurt’s hands working through the pile of blankets around Blaine’s waist, worming its way through. It pushes the waistband of Blaine’s pyjama pants down and takes him in hand without preamble, stroking hard and fast and tight in a way that makes Blaine whimper out loud.

“We’re going to be so good, Blaine, you don’t even know,” Kurt murmurs nonsensically against Blaine’s neck, the words muffled and sending sharp vibrations along the skin that bring up tiny ripples of pain. “So good. You’re perfect, we’re perfect, you just – you just can’t tell yet.” His hand tightens on Blaine’s cock, pace slowing down into something determined and focused and intense. “So good,” he says again, licking a long stripe up the puncture marks and making Blaine shudder.

And after a long, long pause that hangs in the air and fills him up, Blaine leans his head against the back of the armchair, closes his eyes – and surrenders into the touch. Lets his mind go purposefully blank as Kurt slowly and patiently gets him off, the stroking touch of his cool hand on his cock a constant reminder of exactly what Kurt is.

Because it feels good, and Kurt’s hand is sure, and because part of him has always wanted this. Because Kurt isn’t going to give him comfort, doesn’t even know why Blaine could possibly want comfort, and so physical closeness is just going to have to be enough.

Because it is easier to let himself be touched and edged and drawn up into heat and slow, slow pleasure than it is to think about the way that this is all going to end. Easier than thinking about what Kurt wants from him, in the end: to twist and stretch Blaine out into a cold, heartless shell that looks like a person who wouldn’t exist anymore.

When they’re done, Kurt cleans the both of them up with a washcloth before serving Blaine a large bowl of steaming stew. The ladle shines as though it has never been used, and so does the silver spoon he takes out of the cutlery drawer with graceful fingers. He squeezes his way next to Blaine on the chair and feeds the stew to Blaine in small mouthfuls, sometimes blowing on the larger spoonfuls to cool them down. Blaine opens his mouth freely; lets Kurt hold him close, and nurture his body, and keep him alive long enough to play with.

He swallows the hot broth down, and lets Kurt stroke his hair, and tries not to think about what is going to happen once Kurt gets bored of this.


--


Over the next little while, it proves practically impossible for Blaine to keep any meaningful track of time. With the windows blacked out and an almost pointed lack of any kind of time-telling device around the apartment, the days blur together into an endless repeating slide of pain, and sex, and blood.

Blaine wonders if Kurt is trying to drive him insane, not letting him know what time it is or how long it’s been.

He wonders if it’s working.

The dreams keep coming, and they don’t help. Hard and strong and achingly real, that part of Kurt that slithered beneath his skin and taken hold of his subconscious so long ago even more active and vibrant than before. The dreams bleed into reality, and reality bleeds back into the dreams until Blaine can barely differentiate between the two.

Even sleep provides no break from Kurt’s soft words, or his cloying touches, or the sharp heated pleasure-pain of his teeth piercing through Blaine’s skin.

It’s all one endless stretch of time that just won’t end, and the two of them float in this little hollowed-out space in utter isolation. Nothing can exist outside the walls of Kurt’s apartment: not the people Blaine loves, or has lost, or the life he always thought he would have. Not the put-together, charming boy he used to be when the walls of Dalton surrounded him like an embrace, or the unburdened young man his father left him with their final conversation. The world ends at Kurt’s door – or it does as far as Blaine is concerned. Thinking about outside is painful, and complicated, and there just isn’t any point anymore.

After that first time (the bed, the blood, the heat of the water, the soft touch of Kurt’s fingers trailing down his chest as they laid together on the couch afterward), Blaine knows without a doubt that there isn’t any room for any more than the two of them here. Nothing beyond Kurt’s teeth, and his nails, and his appetite, and the utter surrender that is all Blaine can muster anymore.

Blaine breaks down from the sheer uncertainty of it, about a week in. Unable to press it all down anymore, he shatters outwards after being fucked hard and drained deep and without any idea of how long his life is going to be this way. He breaks down with Kurt holding him close against his chest as though he’s something precious, stroking loving hands through dark curls and whispering shhh, Blaine, it’s fine, it’s all fine now, I’ve got you against his skin. Holding him tight and close and innocently for long minutes – until Kurt’s hand slides down lower and Blaine’s hysterical tears turn into choked-out gasps of pleasure-pain, and it stops being sweet and innocent at all.

It doesn’t stop. Not the intimacy, or the way Kurt looks at him, or the sharp drag of blood leaving his body as Kurt bites into his skin and sucks. None of it stops, although Kurt is at least careful not to drink deeply enough to actually make Blaine lose consciousness. He walks the line, though; he brings Blaine close to the edge of the precipice, leaves him reeling and spinning and weak by the time Kurt finally wrenches his mouth away. Leaves him gasping and dazed to the world, so very close to the blackness but just barely, barely held back.

Afterwards, Kurt always practically buzzes with contentment. He holds Blaine close, and whispers loving words of praise, and makes sure the bleeding stays under control. But far more than the pain of the cuts and punctures or the blood loss itself, Kurt breaks Blaine down with the affection in his eyes and the world-changing phenomena of Blaine’s name on his lips. He drinks from Blaine whenever he feels like it, gorging himself on hot blood and never left wanting, and Kurt is always sure to sweetly nurse him back to awareness afterward.

Sometimes, Kurt leans close and drags a lust-sharpened nail along Blaine’s wrist, lapping at the wet heat that pours out; or he’ll dig his teeth into Blaine’s shoulder and groan as he swallows messily around it. A few times, the sharp pain of fangs piercing into flesh even wakes Blaine up in the middle of the night; Kurt’s arms no longer wrapped possessively around his middle but holding him down as he drinks covetously from whatever limb or swathe of skin is closest.

The first time, the happy ease of a thirst well-slaked stretches out over at least a few of days before Kurt wants to drink from him again. But the time after, Blaine thinks, the satisfaction doesn’t last quite as long. And the time after that, the where Kurt is full and sated is a little bit shorter still.

Every time Kurt drinks from him, Kurt seems to grow hungry and itchy with want just that little bit sooner, and sooner. As though he can’t drink deeply enough even when he leaves Blaine dizzy and weak and well-fucked; as though now that he can have drink from Blaine whenever he wants, it would take more and more to leave him satisfied. Before too long, Blaine’s body is a mottled map of cuts and punctures and scrapes and tears.

For the most part, the pet names vanish with an all-at-once abruptness that makes Blaine’s head spin. The pretty things and beautiful things that had haunted his dreams and coiled from Kurt’s lips like a seduction, a poison – they almost disappear altogether after that first day, and the shower, and Blaine’s name on Kurt’s lips as Kurt had buried himself in Blaine’s body and breathed. As though the cloying terms of proprietary, dehumanizing endearment had been an element of the chase, not the possession. As though they aren’t necessary anymore, with Blaine in Kurt’s arms instead of behind an immovable barrier.

As though Kurt has nothing to prove, anymore. And no one to scare.

Instead, Kurt calls Blaine by his name – and that almost makes it worse. It turns Blaine’s own name into some kind of title; almost a signifier of importance that goes far beyond the word’s simple meaning. Twisting the single familiar syllable into something insidious, and personal; into a sound that, at times, Blaine can barely recognize. Whether Kurt says the word with a soft smile, or a smirking grin, or moans it into Blaine’s neck in the middle of grinding deep into his ass, it doesn’t matter. He calls Blaine by his name as though it’s important, as though it’s everything, and it practically turns Blaine’s name into a pet name in and of itself.

The way Kurt says it, too. As though the word holds hidden depths that Blaine himself isn’t privy to; as though there is something about who Blaine is that only Kurt can understand, and perceive, and see.

Blaine still feels like a thing, most of the time.

Even though Kurt doesn’t call him one outright anymore.








Click here to continue on to part two.



Comments

( 31 comments — Leave a comment )
fara1903
Dec. 23rd, 2011 01:09 pm (UTC)
What's going to happen to Blaine? The situation is not a good one for him!
emilianadarling
Jan. 16th, 2012 05:40 am (UTC)
It certainly isn't! D:
k_persephone
Dec. 23rd, 2011 01:54 pm (UTC)
a;ksjdhiusgthsbdjkfjshaudvf

Back later?
-P.
emilianadarling
Jan. 16th, 2012 05:40 am (UTC)
:D I'm so excited to hear what you think!!! I have no idea what you think about this story yet at all!
(Deleted comment)
emilianadarling
Dec. 24th, 2011 01:03 am (UTC)
Haha, yes, the 'back to usual' and 'contentment' were intentional word choices, but I changed the latter since you found it strange. Thank you as always!
missgoalie75
Dec. 23rd, 2011 05:14 pm (UTC)
Kurt leans up with a cool hand and swipes the tear away. As though to get rid of any physical manifestation of distress is enough to make it go away.
“Don’t cry,” says Kurt quietly, his clear voice tampered down with surprise and bewilderment. “You don’t need to cry.”


Ugh, the emotions. That part really hurt and I don't know if it's just because of Blaine crying about all this, because it's so heartbreaking, or if it's also because of Kurt maybe realizing how awful this is for Blaine and he's having a moment of empathy. alskdjflsdkjflsdfk

ON TO PART 2.
emilianadarling
Jan. 16th, 2012 05:41 am (UTC)
Thank you so, so very much. <3 I love the section that you picked out, and I love that it affected you so strongly.
cassidychase
Dec. 23rd, 2011 06:15 pm (UTC)
Oh holy fuck, this fic just gets better amid better with every freaking chapter. I love that you dedicated an entire freaking half chapter to emphasizing and describing all the domesticity of these still-human-Blaine times. And what an epic-ally LONG half chapter this was! loved every bit of it and it was so worth the wait.

I was kinda yelling at Kurt to let Blaine sleep, in the first part, tbh XD XD Poor bb has been through so much over such a short amount of time and Kurt is just forcing him to stay awake while telling even more stories. So I definitely noticed the hint of vampire hangout routine there, with Kurt telling that story. It didn't reveal too much, but what I got from it was that there are other vampires, and that that particular vampire had a terrible dress sense XD wondering if it was any Glee character we already know or if it was a random vamp.

When Blaine was breaking down about first his parents then the dismal and lack of timeframe or idea abut how long he was going to be subjected to this lifestyle, gosh my heart ached so much. I wasn't sure how long Kurt was going to keep Blaine like this either. I mean, obviously he's waited a really long time to get his hands on Blaine, so.. But I really liked the build up and subtle shift in Kurt's behavior towards the end. The way he gets more and more greedy for Blaine blood, and calling Blaine by his name. Those descriptions are just so awesome. Kurt stocking up the kitchen is a clear indicator about roughly how long he wanted to keep blaine human.

GAH, Blaine being so vulnerable and submissive and the lack of fighting back is just so drool worthy. But the 'not once I make you like me'.... Chills reminiscent of MBBM Dave's 'make a you I can trust'. Oh Jeez. I fully believe Blaine theory that Kurt has never kept a human alive for so long before Kurt's totally out of touch with human emotions and he definitely need a filter for his mouth. You don't go around announcing that you intend to force someone to do something they may not want. Sure, Blaine has nowhere to run except in his own head, which is actually sufficient if he refused to love Kurt on principle. Meep!

All I can do is buzz with excitement as evidently Blaine will be turned soon! But probably chapter 9, seeing as you felt the need to mention that a scene had to be shifted to the next chapter. And if it's in the next part, colour me surprised
XD XD
emilianadarling
Jan. 16th, 2012 05:50 am (UTC)
This was definitely a very long chapter indeed, haha!! I'm glad that you appreciated the length, as well as the content! I feel as though people weren't necessarily expecting an entire chapter devoted to mundane details, but for me those are the really interesting parts. Seeing how people interact during intense, emotional situations is fascinating -- but what about the moments in between? What about the everyday little details like eating, and sleeping, and free time? Reality during unreal circumstances is just the most interesting thing to me, and I'm so glad that you enjoyed it as well.

Blaine has definitely been through a lot, but chronologically speaking he's slept a LOT in the past little bit! (He slept all day after finding Amita's body, was awake for a few hours, Kurt came, and then got knocked out. So he's had a great deal of sleep recently, haha!) But, yes, you got the important gist out of that story. I imagine that some vampires must find it difficult to keep up with things like human fashion sense. Kurt, of course, is not one of those vampires. ;D

And oh, I'm so glad that the scene where Blaine has his little breakdown hit you in a strong way. :( There's really so much ambiguity to Blaine's situation, and neither Blaine nor the reader -- or even Kurt, really -- knows how long it's all going to last. I'm so pleased that the shift in emotions is effective, too. It seemed impossible to me that Kurt and Blaine's feelings toward one another could remain rigid and stuck in stasis when they were living in such close quarters -- and you're so right about the kitchen, as well.

You're so good at finding MBBM parallels!!! :O But haha, I'm glad you enjoy submissive!Blaine. I've never got to write this particular dynamic between him and Kurt before, and it's been a really interesting experience for sure. But, yes; I think we can safely say that Kurt has definitely never kept a human being alive as long as he's kept Blaine alive. It's unusual for him, and he doesn't quite know what to do. But straight-up telling Blaine what's going to happen? Definitely isn't a good way to keep him calm. *nodnod*

Omg that last paragraph akdhsakjdhkasdhlahskdhlawhskedajsdhkjahskdhkqjsa. XD
raboom
Dec. 25th, 2011 05:22 am (UTC)
He swallows the hot broth down, and lets Kurt stroke his hair, and tries not to think about what is going to happen once Kurt gets bored this.

Should that be "once Kurt gets bored of this"?

Anyway, great first part, now I have to go read the next part. I'll leave a better comment then!
emilianadarling
Dec. 25th, 2011 08:41 am (UTC)
Derp derp derp, oops! Fixed it! (This is what I get for editing at a million o'clock at night. XD) Thanks for pointing that out!
ficcy
Dec. 27th, 2011 08:18 am (UTC)
I feel so bad for Blaine -- entirely too much consciousness of what's happening and too little control over it. It's too depressing. :(
emilianadarling
Jan. 16th, 2012 07:04 am (UTC)
Sorry to depress you!! :( But thank you so very much for reading anyways! I'm glad that Blaine's emotions are all hitting home, at least. <3
(Anonymous)
Dec. 29th, 2011 12:14 am (UTC)
Your awesomness.
"I hope people are still interested in reading this, haha. :3" You little sneak - Of course there are still loads of us!!! Freaking love this fic, you little bundle of overflowing talent! I can barely contain my excitement at the prospect of reading these two new additions, so I thank you for having written one of my favourite Klaine fics to date :).
Thanks again (looking forward to logging on and discovering the next chapter soon :P) (*U*)
>:3
emilianadarling
Jan. 16th, 2012 07:04 am (UTC)
Re: Your awesomness.
Haha, I don't know!! There was a pretty big gap in between there. XD "Little bundle of overflowing talent" omg akjdhajshdkashdasd YOU ARE SO LOVELY! Thank you!! I'm beyond glad that you enjoy this fic so much!!
amordemealma
Jan. 7th, 2012 11:15 pm (UTC)
Here we are again. Finally, I have a chance to read chapter eight. Real life has really kicked me in the butt over the holidays, and with school starting next week, and my brother getting married in two weeks, It's just going to get even worse. But I wanted to make sure I got this read and reviewed before life really got in the way and I have no time for random anymore.

Oh my goodness. The opening to this. As someone who donates frequently, I can attest to the fact that giving blood makes me very sleepy indeed. And I have a feeling that Blaine “donated” quite a bit more than just a pint of blood to Kurt. I couldn't imagine how hard it would be to stay awake after that. I also love that you referenced donating blood with him slipping him snacks and juice to give him his energy and strength back. (coincidentally, I was thrown when you mentioned apple juice, because in the previous chapter you had mentioned Kurt bringing the juice, my mind supplied orange juice, my drink of choice when I donate. heh) I love Kurt's patience, his talking to give something for Blaine to focus on, the pinches when he starts to drift off. It would be all quite loving and romantic of him to keep him awake after a trauma like that, if he wasn't the one to cause it all in the first place. I also enjoy the way you wrote Blaine's slow pull back into full consciousness from the unaware drifting he was doing earlier.

When Blaine's voice comes out groggy and slurred, is it because he actually did fall asleep with out really knowing it, or is he still that weak that he doesn't have full power and control over his own voice so it slurs a bit. I can imagine that if it was the second, then that Kurt, when he put his hand reassuring on Blaine's chest, it would be at least partially to reassure himself. Because maybe Kurt is realizing that he drove Blaine too far that first time and if he really does want Blaine as a human to be around for awhile that he needs to be a bit more careful when drinking from Blaine. Also, I can imagine that the fact that Blaine was unconscious for a good period of time before all this happened would help the situation any.

When Blaine mentions feeling like an invalid...Is Kurt really being that patronizing in thinking Blaine can't do anything for himself, or does Blaine not really know exactly how drained and weak he is? I get the feeling that Blaine has a skewed perspective on how much he could do for himself. Like if he tried to get up and go to the kitchen to get some water or get a book off the shelf to preoccupy him while Kurt is out, he'd be surprised when his legs completely give way under him. Cause he really is that weak.

For the very first time, it occurs to Blaine to wonder whether Kurt might just be lonely, too.
This, in accompaniment to the portion from Chapter...1? 2? (It's been so long I can't quite properly remember where that takes place anymore...haha) is just so achingly beautiful and accurate. Yes. It's everything I've been thinking. I think there's a reason that Kurt sees Blaine as “the one.” Not just because of his smell or the connection that he feels. I think maybe when Kurt was asking those questions, all that time ago, it wasn't just to see if there was someone that would miss him, but to make sure that Blaine would need Kurt as Much as Kurt needed Blaine. Because Kurt is lonely. He doesn't want to be lonely anymore, and what better way to cure that loneliness with, than to find someone just as lonely as him? I could see it then being the justification of changing Blaine in his mind. Because then he'd be doing Blaine a favor. He'd be curing him of his loneliness and therefore this thing that Blaine doesn't want could be seen as a kindness instead of a horrible dread that's fallen on him.
amordemealma
Jan. 7th, 2012 11:18 pm (UTC)
I love Blaine's feelings about not even being able to go to the bathroom on his own, the embarrassment he feels over Kurt's over protectiveness. It's so real. But again, I almost expect Blaine to stumble when he first gets up because he doesn't realize just how much damage Kurt did. I think Kurt is being the way he is, not because he sees humans as these weak fragile beings (though there is definitely a bit of that coming into play no doubt) but because he has a better grasp of exactly what he did to Blaine.

(I feel very vindicated in my analysis of Blaine's perception of his condition when He has that moment after he gets up where his legs scream and feel weak, and he's completely lightheaded and needs a moment to regain his composure before he moves.)

The sheets. Dear Lord. That would make my stomach roll as well. I'm surprised that Kurt hasn't at least taken the time to stick them in a bucket of oxyclean to soak yet. Even in his vampire state, Kurt strikes me as the type of person who could not abide stains and sheets being ruined. The plastic over the mattress pad is proof of that enough.

I loved the so stubborn line. Because I think it's the first time that Kurt's really taking in that quality of Blaine. Not that he hasn't seen it before. He went for a very long time with Blaine stubbornly refusing to open the door for Kurt. But I think it's the first time it registers to him. And I think he's seeing what it would be like once they're both vampires and together, and that small smile is because he likes that idea. It's part of what is making him fall in love with Blaine. His stubbornness. It's part of what makes him real and not just another toy or meal to him. It's what makes Blaine unique and stand out in his mind.

When Blaine heads back to the sink to wash his hands, finally starting to feel like a person again instead of a heap of human needs, he cannot stop himself from looking into the mirror to see his own reflection
Absolutely love this description. Because yes. Just yes. This is exactly how I imagine Blaine seeing how Kurt was treating him. Or maybe it's how he just felt himself and he was projecting that on to Kurt's behavior making him feel that way. I know when I was sick for so long, I really didn't feel like a person, rather just a half alive corpse that needed attention and help in order to just stay alive. But Blaine, he doesn't want to feel that way so he projects that onto the one taking care of him and believes that it's Kurt's babying that makes him feel like that. (Ironically enough it was Kurt that caused his weakened state to make him feel like a heap of human needs so the projection is understanding enough.)

Also I'm wondering if When Blaine looks in the mirror and sees himself for the first time, if he's seeing what Kurt sees and is starting to understand why Kurt has been treating him like that. Because he does look so fragile and like a little boy, and not the man that he is?

Oh Poor Blaine. I can't even imagine what he's feeling. Not only that he had to finally give in and let Kurt turn him in order to keep his family and friends safe, but that he had submit himself as Kurt's plaything in order to secure their safety as well. It must be utterly humiliating and dreadful for him. I feel bad, because part of me just wants it all to feel normal and like their falling in love and this beautiful thing, but it can't be because of what Kurt is doing, planning to do, and because of what he holds over him. It's rather a heartbreaking scenario.

And Blaine has honestly never let himself think this far ahead. What happened in the bedroom, and afterward in the shower... that, at least, he had been expected
This doesn't read quite right. He had expected, had been expected, or he had been expecting would all work I think, but as it is, it just sounds a bit...awkward. okay editing mode off now. sorry
amordemealma
Jan. 7th, 2012 11:22 pm (UTC)
So...if Kurt doesn't eat...His fridge, obviously it serves a purpose right now when he has a human to feed and to keep alive, but what about before he brought Blaine there? Was it just...decoration? Did he even keep it plugged in? And why would he need such a gorgeous kitchen if he doesn't cook? It seems like a waste of space. Why not get an apartment that has a very small kitchen or a studio space that doesn't even have one? I would think it would save money on rent if he didn't find an apartment with a big kitchen. Or maybe it's just a comfort thing to him? He seems adept and comfortable there, maybe he did a lot of cooking as a human it it's some thing to do or that calms him and he just...likes keeping up the skills? If so, what does he do with the food that he cooks? Does he like, bring it to a soup kitchen to fatten up the homeless that he then kills and feeds from later? oh god. My brain has gotten carried away again. I'm sorry, I just think about things like this.

I'm so relieved to see that Blaine has much of the same thought process as I do in regards to the kitchen and the job and all that. It makes me feel not so crazy for letting my mind wander in that fashion. :)

Also...exited to find out what Kurt does for a living... (again, Blaine's thought possesses about the job are eerily similar to my own when I started to wonder about what Kurt does.)

Blaine's sudden ache for his parents and Kurt's concern is heartbreaking. Heartbreaking for Blaine because of the obvious, but also because Kurt's concern is not necessarily for Blaine. It seems a little selfish. Because to him, he doesn't see a reason for him to be upset. To him, he's being gentle and loving and so gracious, providing everything that Blaine could need. He doesn't see the horror in the situation. Doesn't comprehend the heartbreaking finality of leaving everything behind. Doesn't understand the bitterness that Blaine could harbor because of all that. It's just...sad.

And the feelings of heartbreak and bitterness continues as Blaine's fear settles in and then Kurt, in an effort to comfort him, to make him feel okay says the one thing that makes everything not okay. That Pulls every horror in to the forefront. The one thing that couldn't have hurt worse if Kurt was trying to make him hurt.  “I promise you won't miss them, beautiful. You won't. Not once I make you like me.” I realize Kurt thought he was saying the right thing, thought he was being comforting, and think that's what makes it hurt all the more. Because he doesn't see how awful what he's saying really is. He doesn't comprehend the hurt and betrayal that accompanies that statement.

Kurt's statement -”Of course it will be you.” I wonder if Kurt really feels that way about himself. That He still see's his vampire self the same way he saw his human self, or if it's just so long he's forgotten. Or at least, being a vampire has made it possible to not care that he's not the same person he was before, so when Blaine makes that statement, that it won't be him, Kurt it doesn't even register that yes, it won't be him, because Kurt is not who he was before. It's an interesting thought process to say the least.

Oh and Blaine just giving in and letting it feel good. My heart aches at that. It's just him giving up. He can't do anything else because he realizes that he'll never get Kurt to understand, that Kurt will never have the capabilities of giving emotional comfort and that the only comfort he can give is physical. So he just lets it happen. God, that's just so heartbreaking to me.
amordemealma
Jan. 7th, 2012 11:25 pm (UTC)
And the fact that he just empties himself of all emotion about it. Just lets it happen so he doesn't have to dwell on anything, the before or after or what Kurt's doing, harsh statement, but it feels very much like a rape victim letting their mind drift and disconnect so that the horrors being done to them don't register and they can keep existing cause there's no other way to cope. I hate comparing Blaine to a rape victim, but...I think it's the closest comparison I can come up with. After all, Kurt has virtually kidnapped him, and although it's 'consensual' because Blaine has surrendered, it's only done because he feels like he has no other choice. It just...makes me not like Kurt very much when looked at in that perspective.

. The dreams bleed into reality, and reality bleeds back into the dreams until Blaine can barely differentiate between the two.
Oh God. What a lovely picture. Again, completely heartbreaking, because there's no escape for blaine now. None whatsoever. He can't even let his mind break free from his reality because it all just loops together. I imagine that makes the time feel even longer because it all melds into one and he no longer recognizes the difference between dreams and reality. okay complete dork moment, I have to share. I was writing the word escape and all the sudden my mind jumps to “ess-caup-eh. That's funny that's spelled just like the word escape!” I'm sorry. I'm writing about this beautiful, poignant, heartbreaking moment and I ruin it with a finding nemo reference.

Even sleep provides no break from Kurt’s soft words, or his cloying touches, or the sharp heated pleasure-pain of his teeth piercing through Blaine’s skin.
The pleasure-pain of his teeth. Oh goodness. I always felt that Blaine would be reduced to this. That Kurt would bite and drink so often that Blaine would start to feel a sick pleasure from it, I feel fairly certain that in the end, the pain part will not even register any more and it all becomes pleasure for him. I'm predicting that it will be then when Blaine is so lost and broken down that he can't even register the pain of what's happening to him that Kurt will give in and turn him. Just a prediction. I honestly couldn't care less if I was right or not, but...at least that's where I see this going right now.

Blaine's breakdown. I feel like I'm over using the word heartbreaking, but....it's the best description available for how this chapter is making me feel. Also it feels...inevitable, and inescapable. Like there was no other outcome for it. Because if my life had been reduced to sex and blood and pain, I think I would break down too.

 He breaks down with Kurt holding him close against his chest as though he’s something precious, stroking loving hands through dark curls and whispering shhh, Blaine, it’s fine, it’s all fine now, I’ve got you against his skin. 
And somehow, I think that would make it even worse for Blaine. Because it's the fact that Kurt has him that is making him breakdown. And he's not even allowed to really feel the horror because Kurt just turns it into the physical and makes it all about sex and how horrible that would be for him.
amordemealma
Jan. 7th, 2012 11:30 pm (UTC)
Oh goodness the name. I'm shaking. Seriously. Because that first time, when Kurt says Blaine's name, it's like a battle won for Blaine. He feels more humanized, he feels like Kurt sees him as a person and not just a thing. And now, he can't even hold onto that as comfort. Because the one thing that gave him pleasure, to hear his name drip from Kurt's lips, is just one more thing that solidifies his presence in the world as nothing more than Kurt's possession. He has truly lost all of himself, all of his identity. Not even his name is is own anymore. It's almost as if Blaine ceases to exist, even before Kurt changes him. Because how Blaine was, he's not that anymore even now. He lost all hold on himself by giving in and letting Kurt do as he wants. That's truly such a horrifying existence. Kurt changing him has now not become some dreaded thing that one day will happen in my mind, but...almost like a release. Once he's a vampire, Blaine although not himself, will at least have his own identity again. Changing him then becomes almost a mercy rather than something to dread.

*sigh*. I almost had this to four comment boxes. no seriously this last paragraph almost fit in the one before, but when I went to world count to check my character number i was at 4301. *facepalm* oh well, I guess i have more room to gush over this part now instead of just ending the comment.

This is utterly brilliant. I can't wait to read more. but unfortunately, I once again underestimated how long it would take me to read and comment on your fic. apparently four hours is only enough time to get me through one part. But I will be back after work tonight to finish it, so hopefully the second part of my overly long reviews will trickle in late tonight absurdly early tomorrow morning

I love your work bb. Can't wait to see where this is all headed!
emilianadarling
Jan. 20th, 2012 11:58 pm (UTC)
Wonderful to see you again, bb!!

Aha, yes, I’m quite used to donating blood as well! (When they let me. Stupid anemia.) So it was very amusing for me, having Kurt feed Blaine apple juice and cookies to get Blaine’s strength up again. :3 He’s also emotionally exhausted here, as well; it’s definitely not just a physical tiredness, but also a way to get some time to get his head all in place again. It’s definitely apple juice, though! I wanted something sickly sweet to go with the mood. <3 I’m so glad you liked the unaware drifting, because it was a bit tricky to write – it’s usually something you experience while you’re very sleepy and just waking up, so finding the words was hard, haha! And it’s definitely a very sweet scene... if you ignore the reason for it, of course.

Blaine mostly has stayed awake, but he has been drifting a bit; he’s been hanging on almost-sleep for a long while at that point. Mostly the second reason, though; he’s just very weak at the moment. Kurt definitely drank a little more deeply than he would do in the future, though; one big drink to quench his thirst and satisfy himself, but he knows that he’s going to have to pace himself after that if he wants to keep Blaine alive. Also, yes, poor Blaine and his head injury to boot! Poor thing, he’s just a mess.

I would personally say that, yes, Kurt is being patronizing – but he doesn’t realize what he’s doing at all. Taking care of a human being over an extended period of time? God, Kurt probably hasn’t had to do that since he was human. And he hasn’t been human for so long that I would say that Kurt has largely forgotten what’s embarrassing/humiliating/patronizing at all. Blaine is weak, but he does realize just about how weak he is; he’s just willing to attempt to stand on his own even if it means hurting and possibly stumbling. Plus, standing up after losing blood = always hard!

That line is from Chapter One, yes!! (AW YEAH FORESHADOWING OVER 100,000 WORDS AGO.) It made me very pleased that a few people were catching onto the fact a few chapters ago that, yes, Kurt is a very lonely individual in his own way . Maybe he wasn’t capable of really realizing that until he met Blaine and got a hint of all the things he COULD have, but I definitely think that Kurt has been quietly and unknowingly lonely for a very long time indeed. I would agree with you about the questions; not just to see if Blaine was going to be missed, but very much to confirm the fact that Blaine needed him too.

I’m glad you enjoyed the bathroom line, actually. It’s something just humiliating and cringe-inducing enough to feel human, I think, not wanting someone to see you like that. Kurt definitely knows just how weak Blaine is, yes – but I think he’s also attempting to take care of him in misguided ways out of a lack of understanding of Blaine’s mindset. It seems easier to just pick Blaine up and help him, right? So why not do that?

The plastic over the mattress... :/ A very unsettling idea, for sure, but definitely a very Kurt idea. But Kurt’s done one better, actually; he’s bought several of the same sheetset and is just going to throw the bloodstained ones right out. Replacing the mattress would be a bit much, it’s true; but he didn’t want to have to hold himself back or go halfway with his first time drinking from Blaine. He purchased a lot of bedding recently.

Completely agree with your analysis of the ‘stubborn’ line. <3 It’s actually rather sweet, in a way. I mean... Kurt has known that Blaine is stubborn for a while, and it is an appealing thing to him, but it HAD also been an annoyance with his refusal to open the door. But just wanting to stand on his own? That is cute, and strong, and Kurt is most definitely casting his mind into their future together. And quite frankly? The fact that Kurt can appreciate Blaine’s little traits like stubbornness AT ALL is rather a telling indication of how strong his feelings are, actually.

Oh, I’m so glad you liked the ‘heap of human needs’ line! SO with you about how you feel when you’re sick; like you’re not even you anymore, you’re just sore and hurt and thirsty and awful and you require attention. When you’re that thirsty, all you can think about is your thirst; the same goes for hunger.
emilianadarling
Jan. 21st, 2012 12:27 am (UTC)
Blaine definitely looks far too young when he looks in the mirror; it probably does help him understand why Kurt is babying him, but it’s still a prickly feeling for sure. His mindset is just so, so interesting to try to get into with this scenario. It’s such a complex, sticky mess of emotions that don’t necessarily make sense and aren’t really coherent but he can’t help it. It’s humiliating, and awful, and nice, and sweet, and horrific all at once. And it’s all counting down to what will inevitably happen. Oh, Blainers. :(

Thanks for catching the typo! Silly girl, don’t apologize for that. I don’t use a beta, so I always appreciate typo catches. No need to feel awkward, seriously!

In response to your question: Kurt’s kitchen is purely decoration, just like the attractive curtains that hang beside his windows even though the light is entirely blocked out by the film. It’s completely unnecessary – but it looks nice, and it’s what nice apartments look like, and so he has one. Besides, it would be practically impossible to find an expensive two-bedroom apartment in NYC without a full kitchen of some sort! He may as well have one that looks nice. He has all of the money he could ever want because of his job; why bother cutting corners? He hasn’t cooked since he was human, though. It was completely unused until he knew Blaine was coming.

Confession: I ALWAYS think about practical things like money and rent when it comes to supernatural monsters. IT’S JUST HARDWIRED INTO MY BRAIN I CANNOT HELP IT.

I love that Kurt’s utter incomprehension of some of Blaine’s human emotions is coming through loud and clear; really, in addition to conveying Blaine’s continuing horror over the situation, that was really the point of the exchange. The fact that Kurt cannot comprehend why Blaine is upset, in some ways. He actually can’t, he’s not designed to. It’s not biologically easy for him to relate to Blaine at all. And to some extent, yes; he’s being gracious and kind and taking care of Blaine, and he’s already won now, so why is Blaine still upset? It’s definitely a very sad state.

And really, Kurt’s “it won’t hurt once I make you like me”? God, he really does think that that’s very much a comforting statement. But you’re right that the fact that he DOESN’T UNDERSTAND just makes Blaine hurt more – maybe even more than the actual horrific sentiment itself. (And it really is horrific, isn’t it? Imagine someone telling you ‘you won’t love or care about your parents soon’. That’s awful.)

Now that chapter nine has been released, I can honestly say that Kurt really does feel that way about himself. He genuinely, actually sees himself as the same but better; being a vampire allows him to feel that way. Glad that you’re intrigued by the thought process!

But yes: there really isn’t anything that Blaine can do except give up and let it feel good, at this point. Sorry to break your heart, bb. :( You’re completely right about letting it happen partially so that he doesn’t have to dwell anymore, too; it’s a wonderful distraction, and it feels nice, and it’s just better to just let it happen. Also, I find it interesting that you find describing Blaine as a rape victim is a harsh term; he very much is a rape victim in all sorts of important ways. He’s given consent a few times for individual acts, but he has absolutely no choice in whether or not he’s there at all. The consent issues in this story are just ABSURD, and Blaine just isn’t noticing a lot of it. But Blaine is a very, very unreliable narrator and can’t be trusted to articulate the way things empirically are.

I figured you would enjoy the ‘dreams’ aspect. ;) You’re so right about there being no escape whatsoever, now, and ‘looping together’ is a perfect description. It makes sense, though, at least in my head; he’s in such intense proximity to Kurt all the time that all his brain can do to handle the situation is mimic it while he sleeps. Of course, that’s a VERY confusing and upsetting thing to happen to him.
emilianadarling
Jan. 21st, 2012 12:32 am (UTC)
When it comes to the pain, I think there’s definitely a VERY important distinction over the kind of pain Kurt is making him feel. As we saw last chapter, Kurt is being tremendously careful; his face didn’t transform at all when he drank from Blaine, and he limited himself to two fangs instead of a monstrous mouth of teeth. He’s being careful not to make it hurt too much, and to intersperse it all with sex and pleasure and make it all confusing. The human body is a remarkable thing in that it can acclimatize to so, so much. It makes sense that while everything is kept at this low-burning level, it’s possible for Blaine to get used to it. If Kurt were to actually let loose? That would fucking hurt, and nothing could stop it from fucking hurting like nothing else.

And oh, Blaine’s breakdown. :( I would definitely be breaking down like crazy by that point, for sure. You’re very right that Kurt saying ‘I have you, it’s fine’ is the most ridiculous thing, and it can’t make Blaine feel better. Not really. But he isn’t allowed to really feel it; Kurt would rather that he feel good, in the end, and so that’s how he’s made to feel.

Also it feels...inevitable, and inescapable. Like there was no other outcome for it. <-- this, this, this. Exactly this.

I love the attention you pay to the use of Blaine’s name. Yes, yes, yes. He definitely felt much more humanized, last chapter; you’re so right that it was a victory. And it still is, but... maybe not so much. Maybe not in the way that Blaine had thought. His own name isn’t his anymore, what a gorgeous description. It’s another way that everything that makes Blaine Blaine is being taken away with careful precision, and I don’t know that Kurt even realizes. It’s a sweet thing, for him. A term of quiet endearment. You’re very right that, for Blaine, there simply is no going back.

So glad that you enjoyed reading! Thank you very much for the wonderful piece of feedback – I really appreciate it, as always!!!
loonylevicorpus
Jan. 8th, 2012 03:24 am (UTC)
I'm sorry it always takes me so long to review a chapter, but your writing demands my rapt attention and I have to make sure that I have a large chunk of time in which to R&R to my heart's content. That's not me complaining, of course, leaving reviews on your fic is one of my favorite things to do! Let's get down to business, shall we?



For a long time, tucked into the lean line of Kurt’s side and swaddled by piles of soft blankets as his body slowly regains heat, Blaine drifts on the edge of awareness. Cool, confident fingers drift over his chest, and along the side of his face... His ability to focus slip-slides and blurs...
This whole scene and your description of Blaine's mental state is just wonderful. The sensations that come through, like the cool touch, are so much more sensual when the rest of the narrative is so bogged down with Blaine's exhaustion and disbelief. The other thing that stands out with the touches is Kurt's voice: the high, clear sound of it is so close to his ear as it drifts and lilts...

The synesthetic quality of your writing is more powerful than almost any author that I've read, and no matter the sensation, you manage to so clearly convey it that as I read this scene I'm feeling a little woozy.

Every time Blaine’s eyes begin to flutter properly closed, or his head slumps down a bit heavier against the pillows or Kurt’s shoulder, he receives a hard pinch to the arm.
I can't help but imagine Kurt enjoying this just a little bit because I'm sure Blaine's reaction is not unlike a puppy jolting awake. Oh, Blainers.

or force a few more cookies and sips of sticky apple juice down his throat like someone who’s just given blood at a clinic.
I just. I'm not sure why I love this line so much but it's excellent. I'm a sucker for unique similes, and this one is unique in a whole new way because it's also awash with irony. Blaine, dear, you have just given quite a lot of blood, hahahaha. And the description of the "sticky" apple juice going down Blaine's throat gives such a clear image of how Blaine is feeling: he doesn't want it, and his mouth is dry and it's too sweet and ew, but he's too weak to do anything but just take it. Oooohhh I could just eat your writing up (and I do, in fact).


Irritating, because all Blaine wants to do is sleep and Kurt won’t let him.
Ahahaha, Blaine is cranky and toddler-like and I love it. Once again, I'm imagining Kurt, and I'm sure he must have done extensive research to perfect this plan of his, and so he knows how much Blaine can take and how to keep up his strength, but why is Blaine being so annoying? I would love to see this from Kurt's POV!

“... came across another when I was living in Chicago in the 1970s,” says Kurt conversationally, stroking a hand down Blaine’s side with idle little movements. He laughs, high and light.
Oh, but this is so domestic and I'm a sucker for domestic!Klaine. It also insight into just how much Kurt is certain about his decision with Blaine, because I'm sure he never talks like this around anyone and yet he's kept up this stream of dialogue for who knows how long as Blaine recovers. But it's also sinister in a way - he's talking about killing countless people for fun and yet acting as though he's telling his husband a silly little story from work at the end of a long day.

the dark blue of his housecoat
I'm pretty sure that Kurt's housecoat has already been mentioned in the story, but OMG KURT. You would.
loonylevicorpus
Jan. 8th, 2012 03:25 am (UTC)
heavy dark curtains hanging attractively and unnecessarily on either side.
I really love your description of Kurt's apartment, but this line is definitely my favorite. It speaks volumes about Kurt's character - he doesn't need curtains and never will, and yet he's gotten extravagant, heavy curtains in his apartment because he enjoys decorating. That, and his kitchen - which he will also never need - makes me wonder at why he's playing at "human" so thoroughly. Blaine wonders here how many people have seen the inside of Kurt's apartment, and I do too. I doubt that nearly anyone has been inside, and so who is Kurt putting up this human facade for? Himself, perhaps? Hmmmmmmmmm.

For the very first time, it occurs to Blaine to wonder whether Kurt might just be lonely, too.
BUT REMEMBER I SAID THIS TOO OMG KURT ;_; I want to be in his head so badly.

The fact that Kurt is intentionally allowing Blaine to hear his movements – that he has decided to let Blaine be reassured by knowing where he is, and when he’s coming back, and what is happening around him – makes something uncomfortable and tight twist in the base of his stomach.
This is just so messed up and I'm reminded of Waiting For a Happy Ending - Blaine is being given a false sense of security and affection for his captor. Kurt thinks that he's being so loving and wonderful to Blaine with all he's done, and Blaine is starting to think so too, but he's kidnapped and is planning on killing Blaine. This, and the rest of the chapter, is like they're playing "house" together like children, building up a world for themselves and ignoring the harsh reality of what's really going on.

He already feels enough like a rag doll and an invalid and a cripple without Kurt helping him go to the bathroom, and this is his kidnapper, technically, and Blaine just... he can’t.
Kurt's treatment of Blaine as an invalid has seemed sweet, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's all just another mind game that he's playing with Blaine. He's making Blaine feel that much more helpless and dependent on Kurt, and so perhaps he's doing it intentionally just to force Blaine into submissiveness. Vampires are so hard to figure out!

And when Blaine reaches out to accept the hand, the coolness of Kurt’s skin is only a little bit surprising to touch.
This is very subtle, but very telling - just like much of your writing.

The puncture wounds on his neck draw all of his attention, at first.
The entire description of these wounds literally has me shivering in awe and horror at how real they are. Once again, I found myself clutching my own neck as I read because it was like I could feel them. The description of the shininess around the wound is another one of those little lines that I'm absolutely in love with. I like that you haven't romanticized the wounds at all, because that so often happens in vampire literature - this isn't a hickey, it's two deep, painful wounds in the side of his neck, and they are gruesome.

They look like war wounds. Except that Blaine isn’t getting out of this alive. He stares into his own hazel eyes reflected back at him for a long, long time before he flicks off the bathroom light and slowly heads back down the hall.
This image of Blaine staring at himself in the mirror is so much more haunting than the lines before it, and the lack of thought behind it even more so. He is utterly defeated, and he can see it in himself, and he doesn't even have the energy to even be predictably reflective and emotional about his life anymore.

He tuts loudly as he grinds fresh pepper over the saucepan, shaking his head. “Luckily you have me to take care of you.”
Oh my GOD, he's like... a twisted version of Mrs. Weasley here. And then in the next line he's sure to remind Blaine that he is in control and Blaine can't do anything about it and it's still so Mrs. Weasley, aauuughhhhhh. This is domestic!Klaine at it's most horribly wonderful, truly.
loonylevicorpus
Jan. 8th, 2012 03:26 am (UTC)
It’s surreal. Surreal and confusing and it makes his head hurt, because it’s harder to remember that he isn’t here of his own volition when everything is so normal.
Really, this is worse than almost anything that's happened so far. It's like a Tim Burton movie or something. Blaine has no idea what to do with himself because he's not being held down and fucked or sucked (heh), and he's being forced to participate and react now rather than simply try to block out what's happening.

“Well,” he says, his gaze sliding down to rest on the side of Blaine’s neck. The wounds there pulse as Kurt stares at them, straddling the line between playful and serious. “I suppose you could say I’ve already eaten today, if you want to be precise about it.”

Oh my GOD lsadkhfksjdhgkjshfjkhasdjfhlsdvgldfoiva
This is at once the creepiest, most horrible line in this fic and the sexiest thing Kurt has done so far.

Leaning in close, Kurt leans up with a cool hand and swipes the tear away. As though to get rid of any physical manifestation of distress is enough to make it go away.
This is so heartbreaking in how clearly it distinguishes Kurt as not human, and so incapable of understanding human emotions. And the way that he strokes at Blaine's hair and coos at him not to cry, as though he's seen other humans do it or remembers his own parents doing it to him - he remembers this series of events and the reaction you have to a crying person, but he has no comprehension of the reasons for it. He's like a small child in that way.

And now we're at the part where he's pressing down on Blaine's wounds and forcing him to feel them, and I can't help but wonder what it is he's trying to accomplish with this. He's asserting his dominance, certainly, and reminding Blaine of what has happened and what is to come. Perhaps it's the simplest way for him to show Blaine that this is his reality now, and it's the only thing worth thinking about.
emilianadarling
Jan. 21st, 2012 01:03 am (UTC)
It’s totally okay, hon!! I’m just delighted that you take the time to comment at all, especially in such gorgeous detail! Thank you a million, and I’m sorry for the long wait! (I LOVE YOUR ‘LET’S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS’ GIF OH MY GOD! :D :D :D)

ajdhakjshdjkahskjdhasjd, thank you so very much about the descriptions of Blaine’s waking-up mental state! It was actually a description I fussed over a bit; because that feeling is so distinctive to half-sleeping, half-waking, it was a bit tricky to pin down the right words for the sensations. And the fact that Kurt’s cool touch and clear voice are the things that really shine through the blur to you is just so, so perfect.

The synesthetic quality of your writing is more powerful than almost any author that I've read, and no matter the sensation, you manage to so clearly convey it that as I read this scene I'm feeling a little woozy <-- oh my goodness, thank you SO much! That honestly makes me so giddy, thank you so much! Conveying sensations is so much fun, I find; it’s a wonderful opportunity to be creative with words and phrasing, and I’m SO happy it works for you!

And YES. Yes, Kurt is enjoying waking Blaine up quite a bit. And you’re right that it’s not about causing him pain! It’s just that Blaine is being so damn cute whenever he jolts awake, and it’s very puppy-like. Fucking adorable, and it makes Kurt feel very pleased indeed to be able to have Blaine all tucked up into him and have him – in this case, in a very non-sexual way. *nodnod*

So glad you like that simile, by the way! :D I’ve been really letting myself go wild with my similies in my writing lately, and whether or not they make sense to anyone but me be damned. (Also, since Kurt really hasn’t had to take care of a weakened human for a LONG time, he basically just looked up ‘what to do when you’ve given blood’ on the internet or something and is directly applying what he learned. OH KURT.)

And the description of the "sticky" apple juice going down Blaine's throat gives such a clear image of how Blaine is feeling: he doesn'twant it, and his mouth is dry and it's too sweet and ew, but he's too weak to do anything but just take it. <-- So sometimes I think you live in my brain, and it is a wonderful feelings. YES YES YES. Ughhh, that too-sticky too-sweet cloying down your throat feeling, but you have to keep drinking and it’s really unpleasant even though it’s technically a good taste and YES.

Heeeeeeeeee, yes, cranky and sleepy!Blaine is just too cute for words. It’s almost as though he’s past the point of being upset for other reasons, because he’s tired and only half-awake and instead of feeling ANGST ANGST ANGST about all of the awful things that Kurt’s done to him, he’s just... irritated that Kurt won’t let him sleep. Yep. (Also, man, the amount of Kurt POV that I have in my head through all of this is just NOT OKAY. THERE IS SO MUCH OF IT AND IT WILL LIKELY NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. D: )

I love the fact that you picked out the mix of domesticity and creepiness in that exchange. Because oh, god, yes; for Kurt, this is actually a tremendously unique situation. He never, ever talks like this to anyone; most of his insights and exasperations and stories only exist inside his own head, and now Kurt finally has someone to share them with. But at the same time, the funny and interesting stories he has? Are about something inherently revolting to our human minds. “Telling his husband a silly little story from work” IS SO PERFECT YES YES YES.



He would. HE DID. It’s totally the same one, I shamelessly steal from canon!Kurt’s wardrobe all the time. SHAMELESSLY.
emilianadarling
Jan. 21st, 2012 01:20 am (UTC)
Your observation about the curtains is probably my absolute favourite part of your comment, hands-down. Because YES. I had someone else asking me why Kurt bothered to have a kitchen at all; why not just get a place without one? And all I could really do was to point to the fact that Kurt has curtains, too, even though he’ll never need them, simply because they look attractive and he had fun choosing them out and that’s what homes have. SO YES. YES YES YES, your comment is made of crystallized win. I think that the idea of Kurt putting on a human facade for himself, too, is a very good note to take.

I AM SO HAPPY THAT PEOPLE ARE STILL REMEMBERING SAYING THAT AND I POSTED THAT CHAPTER ALL THE WAY BACK IN SEPTEMBER AND IT WAS LIKE 100,000 WORDS AGO. Yay, foreshadowing!! \o/ You were very astute, bb!!

I love the comment about the footsteps, too, and I think it really is quite spot-on; Kurt thinks he’s doing something nice, and Blaine even starts to think that he’s doing something nice – but how can ANY of this be nice? At all? In any way? Like you said, he plans on KILLING Blaine. Killing him, done and over. It’s exactly like playing house, and I think that that’s far more apparent to Blaine than it is to Kurt. Kurt is wrapped up in ‘yep, I’ve won, this is what I get to have now’; it’s much less playing to him than it might seem to Blaine. Kurt is actually, genuinely pleased at being able to do all of this. It’s a very interesting dynamic!

Vampires are definitely very hard to figure out! Kurt’s characterization gets much more fleshed out once he has Blaine in his control, I think, but it’s still had to tell. CHEEKY VAMPIRES.

(So glad you like the line about the not-so-surprising-anymore cool skin. <3 Thank you!)

God, the fact that you can practically feel Blaine’s makes me feel both delighted and apologetic all at once! Thank you SO much! I find it very, very interesting that a lot of vampire literature tends to skim over the pain of the bites, because realistically? SHIT THAT WOULD HURT. Seriously, it would be like someone driving two knives into your neck – and I think that’s what’s interesting about it! Especially where there are genuine emotions there, like with Kurt; he cares for him in some way, but he STILL knowingly hurts him very badly. It’s just intriguing to me. It makes me wayyyy too smiley that you enjoy that, and that you like the shininess, and that you enjoy the brutality of it akjsdhkasjhdkjasds thank you. Bt you’re so right about Blaine’s scene in the bathroom, with the mirror; he’s just too tired to be properly upset about it anymore.

For some reason, I’m absolutely obsessed with including scenes of people looking at themselves in mirrors in my fics. Illicit, MBBM, UMDB. EVERYONE HAS TO LOOK AT THEMSELVES IN MIRRORS FOR LITERARY AFFECT C’MON EVERYONE GO GO GO.

Also, a twisted version of Mrs. Weasley askdjhakjsdhkajshdb YOU ARE PERFECTION. I ENJOY WRITING FUCKED UP DOMESTIC SITUATIONS I DON’T KNOW IT’S JUST INTERSTING I CAN’T HELP MYSELF. But it’s quite funny, because I don’t think Kurt really realizes just how amusing and contradictory he’s being. It’s just normal to him. OH KURT.

Blaine has no idea what to do with himself because he's not being held down and fucked or sucked (heh), and he's being forced to participate and react now rather than simply try to block out what's happening. <-- This is a perfect analysis, and really a HUGE theme I was trying to convey with this chapter. I really enjoy looking at emotions and expectations in extreme situations, and this one is just so perfect. Because I think that in Ch7, everything that happened was basically what Blaine had been expecting. But here? This is unexpected. THIS is strange, and he has to actively participate and join in and talk and eat and interact and he doesn’t know what to do.

THE BEST THING ABOUT THAT LINE IS THAT KURT IS TRYING TO BE CUTE. DAMN IT KURT. Because yes, totally, it’s a VERY creepy sentiment akjsdhaksjhdkjasdh vampire!Kurt y u so creepy.
emilianadarling
Jan. 21st, 2012 01:31 am (UTC)
I absolutely adore the fact that you felt that Kurt swiping the tear away shows exactly how different he is, because YES YES YES YES YES. That is entirely, exactly, precisely what I really wanted to convey with that scene, in addition to Blaine’s continuing grief. Kurt... Kurt is not human, and he simply cannot relate on the same level that a human would be able to.

he remembers this series of events and the reaction you have to a crying person, but he has no comprehension of the reasons for it. <-- you’re magnificent and fabulous and awesome ajsdhksajhdjsahdkashdjhsk. YES.

When Kurt presses down on the wounds, I think that there are a lot of little things going on beneath the surface of such a simple touch. For one thing, he’s definitely asserting dominance; look at what I did to you, look what I can do to you in the future. It’s a way to bring Blaine back to the present, as well; make him think about right here right now instead of far-away parents that don’t matter anymore. Get his attention back on Kurt, instead. On a purely aesthetic level? God, Kurt really loves those marks. Loves the way they look against Blaine’s neck, loves what they mean, loves the way touching them makes Blaine hiss in a breath in an absolutely stunning perfect gorgeous way.

And finally, lingering over the marks is a reminder of what Kurt intends to do to Blaine later. It’s a reminder of everything they’re going to have together, once Blaine is turned. Of the person that Blaine is going to become.

HEADCANON ATTACK RAAAAAAAAAAA >:O

And oh, yes, you’re so very right about Blaine beginning to lose his grip on reality and the outside world. Poor dear. :(

I don't even know what to say about this, other than that it is SUCH a powerful image and so terrifying. The entire ending to this scene is so vague and glosses over everything that has been happening for who knows how long, and that sense of disjointed reality makes it that much worse. Even when Blaine is having this breakdown here, there is such a lack of emotion associated with his desperation - it's portrayed as simply a physical reaction. <-- SERIOUSLY HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO RESPOND TO THAT? THAT IS PERFECTION. Seriously, that is just... Amy, you always take my almost-ideas and transform them into proper sentences that mean actual things and I LOVE YOU FOR IT. This is everything I wanted to convey. It’s one of my favourite images from the chapter, too, so I’m beyond happy that you enjoyed it. <3 <3 <3

And your final comment is gorgeous, because it’s so perfect to what Blaine’s feeling. He wants it to be over but he doesn’t; everything is so heavy and so much, and he doesn’t know what to do. Perfect.

Thank you SO MUCH for the incredible piece of feedback, Amy! I really want to let you know just how much I appreciate all the time you take painstakingly commenting on the things that move you in my fics. Honestly, it makes me feel so supported and appreciated as an author in this fandom, and it truly means so much to me. Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you. <3

I hope you enjoyed part two, bb!!!
loonylevicorpus
Jan. 8th, 2012 08:42 am (UTC)
Blaine wonders if Kurt is trying to drive him insane, not letting him know what time it is or how long it’s been. He wonders if it’s working.
Oooh, I love this little bit. Blaine is starting to lose his grip on himself and his reality, isn't he? I wonder how this will affect him as things progress.

Holding him tight and close and innocently for long minutes – until Kurt’s hand slides down lower and Blaine’s hysterical tears turn into choked-out gasps of pleasure-pain, and it stops being sweet and innocent at all.
I don't even know what to say about this, other than that it is SUCH a powerful image and so terrifying. The entire ending to this scene is so vague and glosses over everything that has been happening for who knows how long, and that sense of disjointed reality makes it that much worse. Even when Blaine is having this breakdown here, there is such a lack of emotion associated with his desperation - it's portrayed as simply a physical reaction.

But the time after, Blaine thinks, the satisfaction doesn’t last quite as long. And the time after that, the where Kurt is full and sated is a little bit shorter still.
This is so... heavy, and I know that's a strange word choice but it just feels weighted with a sense of dread. Blaine just wants it to be over already, but it's taking so long, but then when he realizes that Kurt is getting hungrier and more impatient and feeding more often he realizes that oh, god, maybe he doesn't want it to be over... but it's still taking so long.
emilianadarling
Jan. 21st, 2012 01:21 am (UTC)
Responding to this part up with the rest of your comment, bb! At the end!
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