#marilyn thornhill x oc

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 1

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: Expect so much NSFW content. i know you guys hate the dirty stuff but oh well, you will live.

“God, you look delicious.” You gasped as you held Marilyn against a wall, licking a line up her neck where you knew the jugular vein lay. She couldn’t deny that she was absolutely terrified and aroused to be pinned underneath you. You could kill her at any moment if you wanted to, but what would be the fun in that.

This had become a bit of a normal occurrence since you met her at the office party. You would pull her into the broom closet between your classrooms just to fuck with her a little bit. You knew that you could have her crawling to your coffin by the end of the week if you kept this up. The one thing you hate/loved was how her touch against your bare skin ignited such a warmth that you considered you might be ill.

She moaned underneath you as you unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it over her shoulders so you could suck at the flesh of her shoulder. No on ever tasted this good. Everything in you wanted to bite her, just to see what she really tasted like.

“Tell me what you want?” You ask, slowing yourself down as soon as you registered that you were thinking of biting her. Your breathing was heavy as you stared down at her. Your hands were pinned above her head. She looked like s frightened animal and it was sparking the most dangerous of desires in you.

“Kiss me.” Marilyn’s fingers reached for your belt loops, pulling you closer. Hungrily, you step towards her, picking her up and pressing her against the wall. Her arms wrapped around your neck as she dives in for a kiss. Everything about your kisses in that broom closet was filled with hunger and desire. You wished you didn’t want to do the most torturous things to her, but you could feel the dark aura lingering under her facade and you wanted to punish her for it.

You couldn’t help it when your mouth kissed its way back to her neck. With her gasped and moaning, she didn’t seem to mind either. The bell rang, but you ignored it. The feelings you had towards her body were deep and intense. You almost wanted to rip her limb from limb just to stifle the desire.

“Dr. Ali… Uhm, Dr. Ali…” Marilyn’s hands came to your face, there was that warmth again, pulling you away from her, “I think it’s time for class.”

You were panting above her again. What was it about her that made you like this? You never had a problem controlling the more unappealing side of your vampirism, but with her it was nearly impossible. You hated that she had any power over you.

You slowed your breathing to normal, but kept your hungry and seductive stare, "Very true Ms. Thornhill. Have a wonderful day."

She stayed there between your arms for a few seconds more, almost like she was expecting something. Marilyn's eyes fell to the floor and she tucked under your arm, leaving you behind in the broom closet.

-------

"Are you talking about 'tall hot lady'?" Fern Rogers, your long-time best friend and old Nevermore roommate, asked over the phone.

"No, no, no. She's just a friend. I'm talking about this new redhead. I don't know what my problem is. She's just so- so-"

"Entrancing?" She had been listening to you go on and on about Marilyn. You didn't share her name, however. Your flings always remained anonymous when your feelings were potentially involved.

"That's not even the right word. I've never wanted to fuck and kill someone more, Fern." As usual, you were ungodly honest with your old Nevermore roommate.

"I think the former is acceptable in polite society." Fern laughed a bit at your statement, secretly hoping that you were being hyperbolic. She always encouraged you to never kill people.

You walked back and forth next to the chalkboard in your classroom. The semester was starting to get stressful with the Rave'N next week and these new primal urges were distracting you from accomplishing anything, "Everyday we spend prep in a broom closet. We haven't even had sex, Fern. What is wrong with me? Am I ill?"

"I don't think vampires can get ill, but I'm not a doctor. As the late, great Rowan Ali once said, I'm really going to need you to get your shit together." You laughed at her attempt to cheer you up by quoting the same phrase you had told her throughout high school, undergrad, and graduate school. You did need to get your shit together. You needed to be the person you were before you even met Marilyn Thornhill.

"You're right. You are so right. I'm going to seduce her and get it out of my system. Then I can hit it and forget it." You nod as you speak, reaffirming your own brilliant idea.

"No, Ro. That's not what I said. Maybe you could try dating-" Fern tried her best to redirect you, but you really didn't want to listen to her ideas right now. Dating wasn't an option for you and you definitely weren't going to date a normie. You outlived normies and outcasts and you decided long ago that dating other vampires wasn't an option either.

"You are so right. I just need to get it out of my system. How did you get so smart? It's like you have a doctorate or some shit." You begin teasing her, knowing that she was rolling her eyes on the other end of the receiver, "When are you gonna come here and live with me? You could work at Nevermore. You can leave Sadie and-"

"Her name is Sarah and we are doing great. Thank you for asking." Fern was lying to you. You could hear it in her voice, but you knew she would come to you with her problems when she was ready.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, sweets. I have a date with destiny. Talk with you later." You wrapped up the phone call, ending it before Fern can turn the conversation back to your life.

"Sounds good. Love you."

"Yeah whatever." You paused a moment before returning the sentiment, "Love you too."

------

You strode down to the teachers lounge, knowing exactly what you would say to Marilyn once you found her. You were partially down the stairs of the astronomy tower when you nearly ran into her. You smirked when her hands placed themselves on you to stabilize herself and then you smiled even bigger when you realized that she was coming up to see you.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Thornhill." You grasp at one of her hands, resisting the temptation to raise it to your lips.

"Dr. Ali, I was just coming up to see you and I-" Her voice was so subdued. You wanted to know what lay deeper under the surface. You wished you weren't so curious so you wouldn't have to know what lay under the surface.

"Would you care to come over tonight?" You raise a hand to her face, tracing the curve of her cheek. You watched as she leaned into your touch, closing her eyes.

"For dinner?" Her tone was unreadable. Did she want to come over for dinner or was she looking for something more?

"No." You felt the tremble that coursed through her body. Marilyn wasn't prepared for your answer.

[cherryxsapphic]

Hey! Pookies, so I was wondering if y'all would be interested in seeing one of my writings where it's my oc x Marilyn, I already have it written and yeah let me know what y'all think!

also here's a picture of Ada Wong because I've been obsessed with her lately ☆

Byee~

[masked-alien-lesbian]

Marilyn Thornhill/Laurel Gates x fallen angel music instructor OC mood board from Netflix's Wednesday series

Anyone else disappointed with the ending of Wednesday season 1? Probably won't be watching season 2, they murdered off all the milfs and there's no LGBT characters in the main cast so what's the point?

Anyway I fell into a fanfic hole the last few days. Originally was reading Larissa Weems x fem reader fics but stumbled across a Marilyn Thornhill x reader fic and immediately fell in love.

I'm drawn to the idea of a non-binary fallen angel who gets a job at Nevermore as a music instructor who portrays themselves as a tragic warrior of justice that disobeyed the orders of heaven to save a child that was destined for an early death. They assume a position at Nevermore before Marilyn gets her teaching position and the two hit it off immediately. Although Marilyn/Laurel got her position to get closer to her nefarious goals, she is reluctant to expose her fallen angel to her dark plans, she soon learns that her angel is not as angelic as she first assumed.

[just-a-random-dead-thing]

~Lost and found~ (Larissa Weems x student!reader)

The reader is 19 in this fic!!! The show makes it clear they have students well above the age of consent.

Sorry for the longer than expected wait! Mocks are a bitch and a half! The reader is a snarky little shit in this chapter btw- The chapters will be getting slightly longer as I get more comfortable with the story but please let me know if you would prefer shorter chapters.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (1.2k words)

Thank you for all your kind words about the last chapter <3 I hope you continue to enjoy my shitty angst!!!

Lastly thank you once again to @thefangedman for the editing to make the story make any semblance of sense. You should check out their Tiffany Valentine fic! It's amazing!!!

Static takes over my senses. I slowly come round from my near death experience at the hands of my own Headmistress - ‘my duty is to protect all the students within these walls’ my ass. The glaring lights start to bother my shut eyes, begging me to open them and rejoin the living world. I'll give it 5 more minutes. I haven't had a nap like this in years.

Just as I'm getting comfortable, I hear the tapping of heels on a wooden floor, pacing back and forth. From what I can piece together, Weems accidentally impeded my ability to breathe; I passed out and she has dragged me to her office because she's too embarrassed to tell the nursing staff what happened. Hmm... I should have some fun with her. Fake amnesia seems like it'll do the trick. I mentally smirk, thinking over the horrified reaction I'll get to see on her face.

I flutter open my eyes to play into the act of just having awoken. I stare at the ceiling, hearing her rush towards me. "Mx/Mr/Miss L/N, how are you feeling? It appears you... umm, passed out in the corridor."

I turn to face her, sitting up on the leather sofa I'm lying on. I rub my forehead, slightly obscuring my eye as a confused expression crosses my features.

"...I'm sorry but who is Mx/Mr/Miss L/N, and who are you?" Her face, like I thought, is priceless - she even backs away slightly.

Her voice quivers as she talks, an unfamiliar tone in the usually confident woman.

"S-shit...no no no. This can't be happening, I d-didn't. God, what am I going to do-" with this, she grips my face in her hand, the other removing my own from my forehead, grasping it gently as our eyes meeting in perfect alignment. The only difference is her eyes are glazed over with tears that will fall any second, "I am so sorry, Y/N..."

God, this was meant to be fun, but it's just depressing.

I swear, she has an ability to suck all the joy out of anything I do. I roll my eyes at her, but in reality a small part of me feels regret. Regret over my actions, regret over leaving her in this state, but alas, I repress this thought and lean into the anger. I rip my hand out of hers and shove her away from me.

"You're so annoying! I can't even prank you after you nearly murder me without you sucking the joy out of it. Also- thanks for being too scared to take me to see the nursing staff, or even an actual fucking doctor incase God forbid you got into trouble. I could have gotten actual brain damage-"

I am interrupted mid-rant when she embraces me, her face buried in my neck, now fully sobbing. Fuck. Why do I always have to be such a blunt asshole? I need Noah to translate my words into nice ‘feeling protecting’ ones, he's good at all the dumb emotional stuff. Normally I am at least okay at faking, and I can get by, but everything just feels so foggy. No matter how hard I try, I can't concentrate on finding the right words.

I feel awkward as her hot tears sear into my skin like a mark of shame. I bring my hand to her head, undoing her usual pristine hairstyle. I run my hand over her scalp and the nape of her neck, gently scratching her skin. She calms down slowly, relaxing more into me more. My hand slows with her tears, until both cease and we remain there, unmoving for what feels like eternity. Neither one of us knows how to proceed, not wanting to ruin our brief moment of peace and unspoken understanding of what the other needs.

It has to end eventually however, and I am the one to do so, saying words I never thought I'd utter to this woman in my life. Before I can gather what to say three simple words cross my mind, "...I am sorry."

No. I will never apologise to this woman.

Instead I simply remove all venom from my being. I render myself completely vulnerable to her, a spider without its fangs, completely defenceless. "I don't think before I speak. As you know I'm not exactly great at the whole communication thing. So understand, I did not mean to hurt you. I just struggle when taking others emotions into account and instead I chose to be selfish by lashing out at you, it was immature of me."

The air felt thick as I tried to regain my lost stoicism. I feel shame and pity for both of us. I pry her away from my body as I stand, desperately needing to leave, but my legs buckle beneath my weight as everything goes blurry - fuck. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

Before my body can meet the welcoming ground, I am snatched by a set of strong arms. She turns me to face her once more, before gently setting me on the settee. She turns away from me walking towards her desk as she speaks, her voice still not quite back to it's typical happy/mildly aggressive cadence.

"I had the nurses come to see you here, because I know you don't like the nursing wing of the academy. They said you'd have a mild concussion from hitting your head, and told me to observe you, which is why I didn't put you in your dorm. I know you think of me as being too proud to admit when I am wrong, but I want you to know I will never put my pride before the health of you, or anyone else in this academy."

God, what is wrong with Weems, I think I broke her. She's being too emotional - in the sad way, normally she's just angry. I swear, she speaks exclusively in passive aggressive niceness. I lift my head to properly meet her eyes.

She has taken her seat pride of place behind her desk, having almost the same power behind it as when a queen takes her throne. I begin to verbalise my thoughts.

"Are you on your period? Or are you too old for that... when does menopause start? Oh wait, could it be perimenopause? Oh god, are you pregnant? Can you still even get pregnant?" I become horrified as the last thought even crossed my mind, that poor child.

I notice Weem's equally horrified expression contorting her features, "Mx/Mr/Miss L/N just how old do you think I am exactly? I also don't appreciate the invasive line of questioning, but for your information, no, I am not pregnant."

I shutter slightly feeling her peircing gaze wait for me to answer her. "I want to say, 54...?" Oh God, she looks like she's about to slap me. "54! I beg your pardon, Mx/Mr/Miss L/N, I am 44, and I do not appreciate you aging me a decade! I should give you an extra detention for this alone."

I look at her, wondering if she has been seriously affected by my words, merely her vanity showing as per usual, or if this is her failed attempt trying to be more humorous while scolding me. I run my hand through my hair and let it fall over my eyes.

"I don't give a shit how old you are! You still cried like a baby either way, get over yourself, you're not 2. So what? You nearly murdered someone, we've all been there. You aren't special, so don't expect sympathy from me!"

Weems stands once and strides towards me. I am not interested in her lectures about manners and etiquette, so I leave quickly through the nearest set of doors and out into the corridor, taking a sharp right into the closest room to me.

Grabbing the chair beside me, I barricade the door, allowing myself to slide down it and contemplate all that's happened thus far, while also figuring out an excuse. I look around the room, only now realising I've locked myself within Weems' bedroom.

"Shit."

================tags================

@the-bagel24, @suckerforcate

[h-doodles]

@thisgirlnamedblusy im SO sorry for the quality of this but it is currently 5 am and i am SO sleepy & i know fuck all abt drawing bkgs but AUGH i just needed to get this drawing for flames & roses out of my system <3

[xelinezeddiorsstuff]

Due to X being made into a shit app I have decided to move the AU of Marilyn thornhill x Female OC! here to tumblr for all of you

Maroon(Marilyn thornhill x Female OC!)

Out very soon.

Character info

Warning before you read my fic

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Make it out

Chapter 2: New beginnings...?

Tags: @thisgirlnamedblusy @cherryxsapphic @h-doodles

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

yay!!! thank you can i request a student reader x marilyn (the name is laura) smut 🫶🏽🫶🏽

i really can’t think of a plot tbh all of the good ones have been requested 😭😭

Yes!! Here it is!! :) Sorry about the language mistakes.

What do you want?

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem Student! Reader (OC Laura, as requested)

Warnings: Smut, strong language, semi public sex

Word count: 1,162

Summary: You are interested on her, but you don’t know how to make her to pay attention to you

N/A: Requests are open!!! I love all your ideas :)

You were in class, not paying attention. You only whispered together with your partner. Botany class at least didn't bore you as much as the others, and for one good reason. Marilyn Thornhill was that reason. Since you met her, you couldn't help but behave badly to get her attention, since it seemed that for her you barely existed.

“Laura, would you mind repeating what I just said?” The teacher asked, causing your cheeks to blush.

“Um, I don't know. It's just that it's hard for me to hear you from here, Miss Thornhill,” you said with a certain cockiness. Your partner looked at you, surprised with your answer and lowered her head.

Marilyn sighed in resignation.

“I don't think it would hurt you to put yourself here then, there are two free seats right in the front row,” she answered you. You expected her to say something like that. You decided not to make things more difficult and obey your teacher, taking your stuff and going to the indicated place.

Reluctantly you dropped the stuff on the old table and snorted. The teacher shook her head, completely ignoring your behavior.

The class continued as usual, until the bell rang. You got up and started to walk towards the exit, but a hand on your arm stopped you.

“Laura, stay a moment,” the redhead told you, with a look that didn't tell you anything good.

“I have a class of nocturnal creatures now,” you said, extricating yourself from her grip with pride.

“I don't care,” she answered you. “You and me are going to have a few words.”

“What have I done?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Laura, you were one of my best students months ago, but your grades have dropped considerably. You dedicate yourself to bothering and talking to your colleagues, and you don't pay attention.”

“Oh, have you noticed? I thought you didn't even what my name was,” you said ironically. Marilyn blinked rapidly, stunned by that statement.

“What are you saying?” She asked.

“Well, what I think, Marilyn,” you said, emphasizing her name.

“I know all my students, Laura. And I pay the same attention to each of them.”

“Maybe you paid more attention to me when I came to class with a skirt, or with a low cleavage…”You whispered, with a suggestive tone.

Marilyn looked at you somewhat scared, and her hands began to shake.

“What?” She asked, indignant. “If you continue with that attitude, I'm going to have to talk to Principal Weems.”

“Yes, do it. I'll have to tell her how you looked at my breasts through my shirt when you thought I wasn't noticing…” You whispered, taking a step closer to her.

“I want you to go, right now,” the redhead ordered, pointing to the door.

“Are you sure you want me to go? I think you’re not, I think you want me to stay.”

You were already so close to her that Marilyn couldn't run back, instead she collided with her desk. Her gaze darkened as she found herself cornered.

“What do you want, Laura?” She asked you, hissing.

You laughed victoriously, standing so close to her that you could hear her nervous breathing. You subtly approached her ear, licking your lips before speaking.

“I want you,” she whispered, placing both hands on her desk, blocking any escape route for the redhead.

Marilyn moved a bit, but she didn't push or yell at you. She seemed to be thinking what to do, as she looked around. Suddenly her hand went straight to your hair, pulling it hard. You hissed, but you kept that smug smile on your face.

“You are very cheeky. I am convinced that it was not by chance that you dressed like a whore when you came to my class. Maybe you're the one wanting me to look at you...” She told you with a brusque, but suggestive tone.

“Shall we check it?” You asked, withdrawing a bit and reaching for the buttons of her work clothes, undoing them one by one.

Marilyn looked at you as you slowly uncovered her chest. Her grip on your hair loosened, not quite letting it go.

When there was enough bare skin, you reached in and caressed her chest under her clothing. The redhead started to gasp, but she didn't move. She didn't do anything.

She soon reacted, now grabbing your chin. A passionate kiss came later, messy, hungry. Her free hand gripped your ass hard, lifting your leg up. You widened your eyes and bit your lip.

“Put yourself against the table and pull down your panties, now,” she ordered, pulling away from you.

“Here?” You asked raising and lowering your eyebrows.

"Do as I tell you," he whispered to you, as he turned you around grabbing your shoulders.

Impatient, she did the job, running her hands under your skirt, grabbing the hem of your underwear.

“They're going to catch us…” You said jokingly, letting the item of clothing slide down your legs, falling to your ankles.

“Is that you want? What do they see a young lady like you enjoy my fingers?” She asked you with a childish tone.

You nodded, as Marilyn pushed down your back slightly, stroking your center from top to bottom.

“Beg, Laura. Tell me you want me to fuck you, here and now,” she told you, while her fingers played between your folds.

You laughed mischievously, with your head resting on the wooden table.

“Please, Marilyn. Make me yours...” You murmured, unable to see what was happening behind you.

Her fingers entered abruptly, causing you a slightly indiscreet gasp. Her pace was constant, causing you to tap the table each time she moved.

The conservatory was filled with muffled groans and thuds on the wood. When you thought you had reached the limit, the redhead realized it, slowing down.

“Poor silly girl…” She whispered mischievously. “You're so desperate that you can't last even five minutes, huh?”

You did not answer. You just moved your hips to try to increase the pleasure. You weren't going to agree with her, you wanted to release yourself, and you wouldn't allow her to stop , even though in reality you had been wanting something like that for months.

Marilyn finally took pity on you, moving her fingers just as you needed. With a moan inappropriate for that place, and for that time of day, you arched your back and reached the peak of pleasure.

You turned around when her fingers left your body, hanging from her neck and kissing her messily.

The redhead put a hand on your chest, stopping you.

“You already have what you wanted, Laura. Now get out of my sight,” she told you grimly.

You nodded, licking your lips and putting your underwear back on.

“I still haven't shown you what I can do, Marilyn,” you said mockingly.

“If you’re good, maybe I'll let you do it. But tomorrow, I want you in a shorter skirt.”

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 10

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

You truly couldn’t believe the events of the past few hours.

You witnessed the caving in of the old meetinghouse and watched as the ruble churned and growled. Fern and Larissa surely couldn’t have survived. After Sheriff Galpin came to his senses, he called for the fire department and EMTs, hoping that someone could make their way into the mess to either save lives or pull out corpses.

You watched in horror as the churning of the rubble stopped and the air grew thick with silence. No one was crying out for help. You couldn’t help but feel like you were the cause of Larissa and Fern’s deaths.

As the flashing lights and sirens of backup arrived, you took a place seated by a large oak tree that seemed to be rotting from the inside out. You cried silent tears, a small glimmer of hope remaining inside of you that Fern and Larissa would be carried from the rubble. Board by board and stone by stone, the pit was emptied. Well, that was until someone spotted Larissa’s hand.

Quickly, they rushed to uncover her. It was shocking how she came out of it all seemingly unscathed. She was unconscious and there didn’t seem to be any life threatening wounds, but that would be determined at the hospital. You slowly move up from your place near the tree, peering inside to try and spot Fern.

And after moments more searching, they found an additional body, but it wasn’t Fern.

No. It was Marilyn.

Your heart dropped. Your eyes focused in on her as they lifted her up and out of the pit. The professionals seemed to be more concerned about her condition. There was a significant amount of trauma to her body. Cuts and bruises everywhere. Desperately, you wanted to go to her, but your best friend was nowhere to be found.

While Larissa and Marilyn were rushed off to the hospital, you stayed until they cleared the cellar of all large boards. Literally they left no stone unturned. Fern was nowhere to be found.

You forced insisted Sheriff Galpin take you to the hospital. Immediately, you approached the front desk, trying to get any information you could on Larissa’s condition. You wanted to ask about Marilyn, but you saw police lurking outside a door to a hospital room and assumed she must be inside. Each doctor or nurse you spoke couldn’t give you exact updates on her condition for confidentiality reasons. You didn’t want to take no for an answer.

"Well can I at least see her?" You were growing impatient with the man at the front desk of the hospital. It wasn't him that responded, but a doctor behind him.

"As long as you don't rile her up. She doesn't need any more stress today. The levels of dopamine and solanine in her blood should have killed her." The woman spoke softly, gently nodding her head for you to follow her down the hallway. You were always so proud of yourself when your relentless pestering brought you the reaction you wanted from others.

You were on the doctors heels, listening closely as they provided a bit more information about their concerns for any additional stress on Larissa. She stopped in front of a hospital room and you began to ponder aloud, "And what about Fern?"

The doctor must have heard word that a third person was missing as they answered your rhetorical question anyway, "Now that one... is a mystery."

Larissa was propped up in the hospital bed, arms folded in front of her. She wanted out of this silly bed. She felt just fine. You were trying to be gentle, but you needed answers, “What happened down there?"

Regardless of how Larissa felt, there was a decent sized cut on her forehead from a beam striking her, bruising across her left eye, and the doctors were concerned about the toxins that still needed to be flushed from her system.

"Well, I don't remember most of it. There is this haze keeping me from... I know was poisoned. But the walls started moving. The stones lining the walls began caving in. The room was collapsing on itself." Larissa shook her head, the memories just weren't coming to her all that well, "Where is Fern? Is she okay?"

You looked at the floor, not wanting to tell her the truth. You couldn’t tell her that Fern was nowhere to be found. You couldn’t tell her that you were to blame for Marilyn having the opportunity to harm them. And you couldn’t tell her that you were desperately in love with Marilyn regardless of it all. The doctor told you not to stress her out after all.

"Rowan." Larissa’s voice was a warning. You have heard that tone many times before.

You were careful with how you spoke your words, “Well.. they- they didn't find her."

"What do you mean they couldn't find her?"

"Just what I said, they cleared out the cellar and she wasn't there. They only found you and Thornhill." You crossed your arms, upset yourself for letting Galpin slow you down and for letting Marilyn out of your sight.

"She was there. I saw her. She was laying on the ground near the wall farthest from the stairs. They must check again." Larissa didn't care how irrational she sounded. Where could Fern have gone?

"They cleared out the cellar, Larissa. It's now an empty hole. Fern is just missing."

"Then I'm going to find her." Larissa pulled herself up out of bed, everything ached, but finding you was much more important.

"Ma'am, please you should get back in bed" The doctor tried stopping Larissa when she reached the door, but even you knew there was no stopping the principal at this point.

Larissa's eyes were ablaze as she turned to you, "Get me my clothes. I'm going to find her."

———

You couldn’t stop yourself. You allowed Larissa to go on her own to find Fern. You chose to stay and talk to Marilyn. The busyness of the hospital seemed to diminish and you were able to slip into her hospital room unnoticed as her guards seemed to have taken a leave of absence.

The steady thrum of machines was the only sound in her hospital room. The constant beep of the heart monitor was a sound you relished in. But as you crept closer, you could tell that she was closer to death than you would ever care to see. Cuts and brushes ran deeper than you expected. She seemed to be miscellaneously bandaged from head to toe and she was handcuffed to the bed. The impulsive thoughts began creeping in.

Bite her. Turn her. Save her.

You step closer until you can brush the hair from her forehead for you to place a kiss against her skin there. As you pull away, you linger near her face, fingers trailing down her cheek. She seemed so frail and in need of such care.

Care that you wanted to provide. Care you needed to provide.

Her eyes open ever so slightly and her voice was hoarse when she spoke, “Ro…”

“Hi, red.” You couldn’t help but call her by her nickname. Turning your hand, you cup her cheek as your eyes begin to water. God, why did she have control over you like this.

“Hurts.. It hurts.” Marilyn seemed to be struggling for breath as she tried speaking to you. Everything seemed pained and labored. Her eye lids closed once more and the heart monitor’s beeps seemed to grow weaker and more irregular.

You didn’t think. You acted.

You leaned in and bit her. You suckled at her beautiful neck and tasted her sweet, addictive blood. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your eyes rolled back in your head. It took everything un you to remind you of the task at hand.

Finally, you pulled away. You grabbed her chin with one hand, effectively opening her mouth. Your other hand raised to your face where you sank your fangs into your palm. Albeit painful, your squeezed your fist shut and held it over Marilyn’s mouth, letting a few drops of your blood drip into the normies mouth.

Marilyn was be the first and last person you would turn into a vampire.

Link to Chapter 11

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Teaser

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: We are starting from the beginning here. I’m not shortchanging anyone.

You sidled up to your boss, Larissa Weems, ready to inquire about the newest edition to Nevermore Academy. You had been working as the resident astronomy expert. You were keenly aware that you were lucky you were so good at your job because you had been the Number One Pain In The Ass (trademark pending) voted by Principal Weems 3 years running. Your loud, unapologetic, and overzealous nature led you to be a very specific kind of tea for very specific people.

You glanced up at Prinicipal Weems and you could tell she was bracing herself for whatever you were going to say, “Weems, who’s the new hire?”

“Keep your fangs to yourself, Ali.” Weems warned. She could tell you were asking about her because you thought she was attractive. It was obvious how attractive the small redhead was. Under those glasses and demure demeanor, you knew lay something absolutely delicious.

“Already have dibs, hm?” You smirk, pushing Larissa’s buttons. Truth be told, she loved your sense of humor and honesty, but sometimes she felt you lacked tact.

“Please, we both know she isn’t my type.” Larissa caved in a little bit, teasing you back.

You moved your tongue over your lips, not taking your eyes off the woman as she mingled at the faculty party, “What’s her name?”

“Marilyn. Marilyn Thornhill.” Larissa smirked, finally taking a moment herself to admire the small woman whom she hired to teach the plant science classes and tend to the greenhouses, “I guess she is cute.”

“I should go be a good coworker. I’m going to introduce myself.” You pulled at the edges of your jacket. Turning to Larissa, you hold your arms out and strike a pose, “How do I look?”

“Stunning.” Larissa’s voice was underwhelmed and monotone.

“I was going for irresistible, but stunning will do.” You turn on your heels and make your way over to Marilyn. As you get closer and closer, you realize how much shorter she is than you.

“Oh, hello! I’m-”

“Marilyn.” You hold out your hand finishing her sentence before introducing yourself, “I’m Rowan Ali. I’ve heard you are going to be our new little plant expert here at Nevermore.”

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 13 (NSFW)

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: Long ago anon sent me a little blurb about Rowan and Marilyn having sex. Thank you very much for the inspo anon!

“Try again.” You urged, helping Marilyn back to her feet and positioning yourself in a fighting stance a few steps away. After clearing a space in the living room, you had been helping Marilyn prepare for her first hunt. She had to follow the one rule of hunting with you: killing had to be quick and clean. And while she was fast, she couldn’t hold you in place well enough to keep you from flinging to the floor. 

The look on her face showed how defeated she felt. She had no interest in being tossed to the ground once more. You pull yourself out of the fighting stance, realizing you may have to show her the best way to kill a victim once more. Approaching her, you walked her through the moves once more, performing each action as you spoke, “Taking them from behind is easiest. If they are bigger than you, get them on their knees. Holding someone’s hair is a good way to manipulate their head. You are small and unsuspecting. Use it to your advantage.”

You stop, waiting for her response. You had one arm wrapped around her torso with the other hand woven into her hair, pulling her face back to look at you. Both of you were breathing heavily even though neither of you had performed any laborious activities. Marilyn swallowed before she spoke, “I think I have it now.”

You release her from your grasp and move to stand across from her once more. While your back was turned, Marilyn placed a kick to the back of your knee, sending you falling to your knees. She grabbed your hair and forced your face back to look at her. You were taken completely off guard and extremely proud of her, “Good work, little nightshade.”

You were under her control when she pushed her lips against yours. You rest a hand on her calf, allowing yourself to enjoy the kiss for a few moments longer. When she pulls away, her face lingers above yours for a moment, “Please, Rowan... I’ve been so good. Can’t we just...”

While Marilyn was respectful when you said you should wait to have sex, she had been attempting to initiate it every day since then. You remembered when you first turned, your thirst was insatiable for carnal pleasures beyond bloodlust. 

“Please, my lady... I don’t know what is wrong with me. The blood doesn’t satiate my hunger.” Your voice was soft and timid as it always was around Margaret. She had been sitting across from you reading when you finally spoke up, voicing your concerns with your new vampirism. You always tried to keep your concerns to yourself, trying to be happy with the lavish life she had been providing you with. Margaret provided you with fine dresses and you never went hungry under her watch- a vast change from the life you lived before your great change.  

“Perhaps your hunger can’t be satisfied by consuming food.” Margaret peered over the top of her book as she spoke and returned to the novel when she finished speaking. 

Sometimes Margaret seemed to speak in a manner you found hard to understand, “I don’t know what you mean...”

“Rowan... Have you ever experienced carnal pleasure before? Someone between your thighs pleasuring you?” Her words made you blush profusely. Your mother always told you that portion of your body was for monthly bleeding and providing a man with a child. Neither of these things had ever occurred in your 36 years of living. You had been barren with no suitors, that’s how you ended up on the streets in the first place. 

“Oh, no, my lady...” You shook your head profusely, trying to ignore the aching in the deepest depths of your being. Each time Margaret left a lingering hand on your arm or pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, you felt the electric shocks pulsing between your legs. 

Your breath catches when she sets down her book. Margaret’s eyes focused upon you now. She stood from her place near the fire and approached the loveseat where you waited nervously. 

“Rowan... I told you. You can just call me Margaret.” She lifted her dress, planting her knees on either side of you. Her hands came to rest on your shoulders, fingers dancing across the fabric of your dress, creeping closer and closer to the strings that laced your dress shut, “I could show you if you’d like...”

“You- You want to..?” You were shocked that Margaret would offer something so personal to you. She had never been this close to you before. There was a pounding in your ears as her face crept closer to your neck. 

“I would love to show you. Would you like that?” Her breath lingered against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You nod profusely, desperate and curious to feel her hands roaming your body, “Just sit back and relax, little one.” 

From that night on, you were much less restrained in your search for satisfying all of your thirst, no matter the form it presented itself. The sensations she provided you with were unreal. Never in your life had you experienced such ecstasy. Each caress and kiss had you writing on the sofa beneath her. 

From that moment forward, you explored your sexuality with your fellow women of the house and the occasional man when the desire struck you. 

Marilyn and you weren’t in the same position, however. Lady Margaret never loved you like you loved Marilyn. 

Now you were left staring up into her eyes. Those brown eyes that left you utterly helpless. What could you possibly say or do to make her stay forever? A couple weeks wasn’t enough time to bring you the reassurance you needed to answer this question yourself. As you sat in silence, thinking about what she was asking for, Marilyn moved into your lap, her lips and tongue assaulting your neck. 

You wonder if you only give in for a few moments, maybe Marilyn can get it out of her system. Perhaps if you let yourself enjoy it for a few moments, you can get it out of your system. You lay back on the living room floor, allowing Marilyn to place her weight on top of you, her mouth never leaving your neck. 

The way she sucks on your pulse point pulls a moan from you. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you mark the current time, planning on making her stop in ten minutes. You will give her ten minutes. Ten minutes to enjoy her hands unbuttoning your shirt, ten minutes to enjoy her tongue swirling around your nipples, ten minutes-

You forgot about the clock when she moved her lips up to your ear and whispered three simple words, “Fuck me, daddy.”

-----

Marilyn was clinging to you. Her breathing was rapid, unable to control herself any longer. Hours had passed you both by as you could see the light streaming in the bathroom window, bringing a small amount of light to the darkened room. Marilyn’s arms were wrapped around your neck and legs around your waist, desperate to keep you close as you pounded in and out of her. Her moans had faded to cries of pleasure, her head thrown back, exposing her neck. You nipped and sucked at her flesh causing the sweetest of guttural groans to escape her. 

After Marilyn had ravished you on the living room floor, you had carried her to the bedroom and had been fucking her senseless since. 

Her manicured nails dug into your back. Hopefully the marks she left would keep for a few days so you could continue to enjoy them. Marilyn brought her lips to your ear, “So close, daddy...”

“Take all of daddy, babygirl.” You grunted in response, pounding her deeper and harder. Part of you wished the strap was bigger, wanting to cause her a bit more pain to accompany the pleasure. You knew she would appreciate that. 

The room was filled with the sounds of her cries and the sound of the fake cock moving in and out of her. She hadn’t taken this type of pounding when she was still human. Both of you being vampires would certainly add to the extent in which you could enjoy physical pleasure with one another. 

When Marilyn finally came, she pulled your lips to hers, muffling her moan with your mouth. Knowing she was going to be sore and sensitive, you gave her three final and powerful thrusts, wanting to hear her cry out once more. Her legs wrapped around you tight in effort to keep you from going any further. 

You pull out of her and unfasten the strap, allowing it to fall to the floor, then you gather her in your arms and hold her against you as you crawl into bed. When you release her to pull the covers up around yourselves, but she grabs onto you tight, “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, lovely.” You brush your fingers across her forehead, sweeping the hair away from her eyes. Marilyn whimpers when you pull away, gathering up the blankets and pulling them over both your bodies. As you lay back against the pillows, Marilyn weaves her arms around your neck and pulls you down against her. 

Your face was buried in her neck, one of your legs between hers. You could feel the slickness of her heat against your leg, almost making you wish you could have kept fucking her. You fall asleep, half on top of her with the scent of her herbal scented shampoo filling your lungs. 

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 3 (NSFW)

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: smutsmutsmut

"She hasn't talked to you at all since then?" Fern Rogers asked over Facetime, she was talking to you while she washed the dishes in her sink. It had been days since your last interaction with Marilyn. Her classroom was empty each time you went down for your regular afternoon make-out sessions and she hadn't come knocking on your door since you told her that you didn't do relationships.

You roll over in your bed, holding the phone above your face, "No... I'm not sure what to do..."

"Is she seeing someone else?" Fern shrugged, placing a cup in the drying rack and glancing up at the camera to look at you.

You were trying to ignore the fact that you were a little broken hearted about Marilyn not wanting to see you. Maybe you should have lied about your stance on relationships. Maybe your stance has changed. Your response to Fern didn't hid the disappointment you felt, "No clue..."

Fern paused, not exactly knowing what to say to you. She shut the water off and leaned against the sink, thinking of words that could help you. Her next words were something you would never do, "You could apologize and admit that you may have feelings for her."

"For someone so smart, that is the dumbest things-" A knocking at your door had you pause your sentence to stand and drop your phone on the bed, "One sec, Fern."

You twist the knob and open it to see Larissa, who pushed her way into the room, "Rowan, I need to talk to you about Marilyn."

You turn around to face her, folding your arms, a tad bit annoyed that someone was bothering you. You look her up and down, noticing her shimmering silver dress, "What are you all dressed up for?"

"Rowan... Tonight's the Rave'N. Don't tell me you forgot." Larissa stood with her hands on her hips, staring down at you, but quickly she changed the subject, moving on to more important matters, "What did you say to Marilyn?"

"What do you mean?" Your heart beats a little faster at Larissa's mention of her name.

"She..." Larissa pauses, licking her lips and considering her next words wisely, "She has been visiting me in the evenings... looking for attention."

You felt jealousy course through your body, but you fake a laugh and smile, "Nice. Finally getting some, are you?"

"Well we have- I thought you were seeing one another." Larissa stopped herself midway through a sentence and cocks her head, the look on her face skeptical.

"I don't do relationships, Larissa. She wants something like that so she is coming to you." You shrug and fold your arms in front of your chest. Were you really encouraging Larissa to date Marilyn?

"Rowan! What are you doing?" You hear Fern yell from the phone.

Larissa glances down at your phone before looking at you, realizing that she was intruding on something, "Hmm... Well you have given me plenty to think about, Dr. Ali."

Larissa excused herself without another word, shutting the door behind herself. You stood there stewing. Did you really just encourage Larissa to sleep with the woman who was consuming your every waking thought?

"Who was that?" Fern asks as she notices that the room was finally empty.

"Tall hot blonde." You respond with the nickname you call Larissa specifically to Fern.

"She even sounds hot." Fern responds with a shrug.

------

You personally thought the prank on the Rave'N was hilarious, but you had to agree that the lack of real blood was a travesty. You retired to your rooms and was halfway stripped of your soaked suit when Marilyn came knocking on your door. What you didn't know is that Marilyn first went to Larissa's rooms, attempting to seduce her first, but Larissa was more interested in a hot shower and sleep.

When you opened the door, she pushed you back into the living room, slamming the door behind yourself. She was certainly a woman on a mission. Marilyn wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you down into a heated kiss. Rather than question her presence, you instead chose to deepen the kiss, missing the taste of her on your lips.

"Fuck me..." She whispered against your lips. You were both still covered in the fake blood and her typical sweetness was diluted by the taste of paint. You lift her into your arms, her legs wrapping around your waist.

The kiss is sloppy. It's desperate. You were desperate. You missed her.

Tongues battled with one another. Marilyn continued to bite and suck at your bottom lip. Was she trying to tease you knowing you couldn't do the same to her?

You carried her to the bathroom, deciding for her that you would shower together to clean the paint off. Clothes came flying off and you only left one another’s lips momentarily. Your body was on fire as she touched you all over when the water began to warm. Her lips began to wander like her hands did. They fell to your neck and then down to assault your breasts. Her pinching and biting was harsh but you couldn’t deny you were completely turned on.

You pull her into the shower with you, keeping her body flush to yours as you began to enjoy the heat she generated in you. Both of you had been soaked by the paint mixture as it penetrated your clothes and hair, and now a river of red rushed off you down the drain. Your kisses were so messy and desperate, you couldn’t help let out a moan.

Marilyn smiled at your reaction, and pushed you against the shower wall with a hand around your throat. She kissed you once more, but you knew that darkness in her eyes all too well. She wanted to harm you, “God, I want you…”

You needed to remind her who held the power here. You grip her wrist tightly, causing her enough pain so she releases you. You try to be as swift in your movements as possible when you spin her around and clutch your body to yourself. Hot breath on her neck, you push a hand between her legs and begin playing with her clit when you finally speak, “You need to remember what I am… I could bleed you dry right now… I would love to have a taste.”

You lick up the side of her neck and she gasps and moans beneath you. She loves your threats. She loves the roughness. Your fingers move faster on her clit. Marilyn attempts jerking away as her body involuntarily writhes due to her impending orgasm, but you hold her tight, making her take what you have to offer.

As revenge in a way, you bring your other hand to grip her throat, pulling her flush against you so you can kiss at her face all you want. Her face is looking towards you. You turn and make eye contact with her. You remained that way as you continued playing with her clit. Eyes locked onto one another, and Marilyn whimpering quietly. You could tell she was surprised when you pushed your lips against hers once more, but this time it was gentle. God, how were you so in love with her?

After she came, you washed one another’s bodies and the words the fell from your mouth were so unlike you. You were on your knees before her, rubbing the sponge in soapy circles as you kissed her stomach, “You could be the second death of me…”

You didn’t see her smile at your words. She would have loved to be the death if you.

With you both clean of the blood, you shared a towel, drying one another off and leaving kisses in those clean and dry places. Once she had enough separation from your lips, she pulled you back in for a kiss. You grew heated once more, pulling her up into your arms and her legs wrapping around your waist.

Keeping her in your arms, you navigate your room, pulling your strap from the drawer before attempting to place Marilyn on the bed. She wouldn't release you though. She was desperate to remain in your arms as close to you as possible. You crawl up onto the bed with her clinging to you. Gently you lay back, so Marilyn is positioned atop of you. You felt addicted to her. You went mere days without her touch and taste and now you felt like you couldn’t get enough.

You leave the strap on the bed next to you so you can bring your hands to the side of her face. The kisses grow rougher and rougher until Marilyn bites your lip, drawing blood. You gasp and pull away from her, brushing the wound with your tongue and gathering a taste of the coppery liquid. Was she looking to get hurt?

Your gaze darkens and you drive back against her, this time going for her neck. You could feel her triumphant disposition fading as she remained still in fear, worried you were actually going to bite her. Testing your own restraint, you graze your fangs down her neck, hearing a whine from Marilyn. You pull away, looking at her, “Should I do it? Should I kill you?”

The eye contact between you two is a mixture of hate and lust in this moment. She hates you for rejecting her. You hated her for making you falling in love with her. Marilyn doesn’t respond, instead she grabs the strap-on for herself. She stands above you, adjusting it to her hips before she lowers herself to the bed between your legs, “Should I do it? Should I fuck you?”

Her tone was different than the normal sweet Marilyn you met at the staff party and made out with in the broom closet. The mockery of your words almost drew you out of the sexual mood. Who was this woman who sat between your legs?

Marilyn moved to her stomach and began performing cunnilingus on you. You tried to focus back in on the sensation of her licking and sucking at your clit. Her hands pushed your thighs wider and higher. Even if something seemed off about her, sex was always better with a psycho.

It wasn’t long before you pushed her strange behavior from your mind and began enjoying the pleasure she was providing you. She released one of your thighs to push two fingers inside your dripping cunt. You couldn’t believe how wet you were. Marilyn pulled her fingers from you and showed you how they glistened, “I think you’re ready for the strap, honey.”

As she pushed the strap into you, you knew her pace would be unrelenting from the start. From her relentless pace and roughness, you could tell she was taking something out on you. There were no complaints coming from you about this.

As she pounded into you, her ferocity only increased. When you came in missionary, she flipped you over and fucked you into the bed. Her hand came around and gripped your throat, only offering you a little oxygen as she fucked you to other orgasm. Her words were angry and vicious, “You are getting what you deserve…”

When she finally rolled off you in exhaustion, you attempted to kiss her once more, but she moved away from you. After Marilyn steadied her breath, she slid off the bed. She unfastened the strap and left it on the bed before beginning to gather her clothes from the bathroom. She was shouting as she spoke to you, "Goodnight. It was wonderful as always."

"Good-? Where are you going?" You sat up in bed, endlessly confused. You hoped she was planning on staying to talk or spend the night.

"Back to my room." She spoke blatantly, walking back into the bedroom and pulling her shirt over her head.

"I thought-"

She spun around to face you, red boots in hand. Her tone was condescending, nothing like you had ever heard from her before, "Please, Rowan. Larissa wasn't available and I needed to take the edge off."

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 12

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: Perhaps it’s time for the babies to talk.

Fern awoke with a start, the vines beginning to retreat. Both Larissa and you were leaning over her, chests heaving from the intensity of the moment. The vines had almost drug her down under the soil and if she would have gone missing, it would have been completely your fault. 

Larissa pulled Fern into her lap, concerned hands searching for injuries. Fern attempted to wriggle free of her grasp, not wanting Larissa to be so overprotective. The shapeshifter got her way when Fern opened her hand, blood dripping from her palm onto the fabric of her pants. You reach out and pluck the gold plaque from her hand, eliciting a hiss of pain from her. 

“Fern, we need to get that cleaned up. What if you need stitches?” Larissa grasped at her wrist, holding up the wounded hand to take a closer look. Even with the blood running down her arm and now onto Larissa’s hand, Fern was more focused on the plaque that you held between your fingers. 

You wipe the blood off the plaque onto Fern’s pants and hold it up to the light from the kitchen. Furrowing your brow, you struggle to make out the words, slowly reading the inscription aloud, “Mary Goodweather... Telepath.... 1600 to... 1626. Ever heard of Mary Goodweather?” 

“No, can’t say I have...” Fern said softly, plucking the plaque from your fingertips and drawing it to her face. 

Larissa moved from under Fern and pulled the smaller woman to her feet. You watch Fern’s eyes widen at the show of strength on Larissa’s part. As soon as Fern was on her feet, Larissa cradled Fern’s injured hand in her own with her arm around the other woman, guiding her back into the home. You pushed yourself to your feet, knowing that you should stay out of Larissa’s line of sight because you were going to be in heaps of trouble for allowing Fern to enter into her dreamlike state. 

“Rowan.” Larissa’s voice called after you, her gaze narrowing in. You were making a B-line towards the front door, attempting to escape the shapeshifter's wrath, “We will be having words about this tomorrow.” 

You only nod at her, formulating how you will get out of that discussion tomorrow. Larissa’s lip curled in anger, but she didn’t say another word to you. Instead she ushered Fern back towards their bedroom where she was most likely going to clean her up whilst scolding her for acting so impulsive. You would rather not stay and witness the fight to come. 

The walk back to your room reminded you of how much you adored Nevermore at night. It was so still and silent. Students were most certainly sneaking around the hallways, but they knew better than to make a commotion. You cross a courtyard, gazing up at the window into your kitchen. Even with your shades drawn, you could see a figure moving about which brought a smile to your face. Marilyn had stayed put like you asked of her. 

You climbed the stairs to your rooms, thoughts of Marilyn slowly consuming you. 

She had been better this past week. Mood swings were few and her mood hadn’t been all too dark. Now that Marilyn was becoming a permanent resident in your home, she had been sleeping in bed with you. Over the past week there was more than one occasion where you had woken up with her tucked into your side. All of your spare time was spent with her, teaching her how to utilize her new vampiric powers. 

As you pushed open your front door, Marilyn was on top of you in seconds, arms around your neck, “Ro!”

You return her hug with an arm around her waist, lifting her up off the ground. With your spare hand you close the door, not releasing her as you did so, “Good evening, little nightshade. What have you been up to?”

When she pulled from the hug, you set her to her feet. Her hand found yours, pulling you into the kitchen where she had certainly made a mess. Marilyn had been making use of the gardening supplies you had asked Fern for. You had given her one rule if she was to plant anything in your quarters: nothing poisonous. 

From your small experience of gardening with Fern, Marilyn seemed to have followed that rule as you saw only herbs planted on the window sill. Her fingers squeezed yours tight, her excitement evident, “Look! I started my garden! Nothing poisonous! Just like you said.”

“I’m very proud of you.” You pulled on her hand, bringing her into your side and hugging her to you. Lately it seemed as though she was seeking those words from you, consistently working to please you. While it made you happy that she was staying out of trouble, you were growing wary of how long this well-behaved streak could last. 

Her arms wrapped around your torso from the side. You felt her eyes on your face and you raised a hand to her cheek in response. Not wanting the temptation to kiss her, you kept your eyes glued to the plants and the mess of soil and pots. Her words came as she toyed with the buttons of your shirt, “Are you really?”

“Of course.” You give her another squeeze before moving away from her, “Now clean up the kitchen. I need to take a shower.”

Marilyn pursed her lips, disappointed that you hadn’t been tempted by her. While you desired her greatly, you were hesitant to give your heart so willingly to someone who’s temperament seemed to shift with the tides. Two weeks ago, Marilyn’s obsession was Larissa and you would rather not wake up to an empty bed if she moved on from you. Time and reassurance would be the only way for you to admit to Marilyn that you loved her dearly. 

“Will you read to me before bed?” Marilyn called after you, drawing a smile to your lips. 

“As you wish.” 

-----

“Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die--die, sweetly die--into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit...” 

You sensed Marilyn fading to slumber as she rested against your chest. Instead of continuing through Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu without her, you pushed the bookmark between the pages and sealed it shut to be opened tomorrow night. You deposit the book on the nightstand and blow out the candle, gently sinking down into the bed, not wanting to disturb Marilyn. 

She hummed as darkness fell over the room, happy you were finally getting to bed. Marilyn was snuggled into your side, her voice cutting through darkness, “I trust you with all my loving spirit.” 

You pause a moment, wondering what you should say in response. You had so many questions for her. There were limits to how much you trusted her. There was so much you didn’t understand about her mind and the way it worked. Luckily, you were a scientist and researcher at heart. You spoke slowly, thinking through each word, which wasn’t like you at all, “Why do you say that?”

Marilyn didn’t hesitate with her words, “You have always been there for me and taken care of me. I would do anything for you.” 

“Why did you try to kill Fern? And hurt Larissa?” 

“I-I don’t-”

“Do not tell me that you don’t know.” You cut her off, not wanting her to avoid the question any longer, “You took her into that cellar and tortured her. She hadn’t done anything to you.”

“I was infatuated with Larissa. Fern was in the way.”

“And suddenly you aren’t infatuated with Larissa anymore?” Your question was valid and Marilyn didn’t seem to have a ready answer for you, but you were willing to sit and wait. 

“I-I had been planning my escape and... you mentioned Larissa. I remembered she was who I wanted to be with before everything happened... I- My father always told me that you had to follow through with your plans...” Marilyn’s voice was hushed and you knew she was telling you a secret that she held dear to her, “You were so kind to me and I- Well, I remembered you said that you don’t do relationships, so I knew that I couldn’t be with you.”

“Why weren’t you willing to try?”

“Try what?” You could imagine the cute way her brow furrowed as she questioned you. 

“Try being with me.” 

“You said no... So- so I knew that you weren’t a choice for me.” Marilyn was confused by what you were trying to get at. Her reasoning felt perfectly justified as you had always been dear to her while Larissa was a different type of relationship all together. 

“Yet Larissa said no and you kidnapped her anyway?” 

Marilyn was puzzled by this question. She picked herself up off your chest and moved to straddle you, staring you down as she sat on your hips, “Well- I have always loved you and you need to take care of the people you love. I could never hurt you like that.”

“But you also claimed to love Larissa.” You continued to prod and pull apart her reasoning, hoping that she could begin to see where she consistently went wrong. 

“I- But I love you.”

“Marilyn… You have to understand that it’s hard for me to believe that you can love her one day and then not at all the next.” This was blatant honesty, something Marilyn needed desperately, “It is hard for me to give myself over to someone who’s love wavers so quickly.”

“I have never not loved you. You have always been there for me. Since the very beginning.”

“Marilyn, it was just lust at the beginning. We lusted before we loved. There is a difference.”

“Then I grew to love you. Please, I can show you.” Her hands pushed your t-shirt upwards, fingers searching for your breasts. You wanted her so desperately. You wanted to taste her on your tongue and feel her writhing beneath you, but with her convoluted understanding of love and lust, it wasn’t a good idea.

You reached out, gripping her wrists to stop her from moving any further, “No, Marilyn… Just- Let’s just take this slow. I need to know that you are in this for the long haul. I won’t have my heart broken again.”

Marilyn’s eyes fell, a scowl painted across her features as the rejection stung. She laid down on your chest with a huff, not quite interested in having patience with your relationship, “How long?”

“I don’t know… We will see.” You pull your arms around her and hug her tight. There was much more of the inner-workings of her mind that needed to be uncovered. With two vampires in the home, one of you needed self-control, and as much as it pained you, it had to be you.

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 11

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: Let us begin.

You were acting completely on instincts when you turned Marilyn and stole her away to your private quarters. She needed protecting. That’s what you kept telling yourself anyway. It was far from the truth. Not only had she nearly murdered Fern, but she drugged Larissa beyond belief. No one but Marilyn knew what happened in that cellar. 

You lean forward onto the bedside, resting your head against your folded arms and you watch as her body mended itself. You gently taker her hand, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. You knew the vampirism was taking over, making her body more powerful. Whatever happened to her down in that cellar seemed to have crushed her with a force you couldn’t comprehend, but the new abilities you had bestowed upon her were reversing this process. 

If she chose to continue her path of death and destruction, you had given her immensely powerful tools to do so. You had lay in a similar position over a century ago, recovering in a bed with an experienced vampire at your side. You escaped a life of poverty and death exchanged for immortality and loneliness. 

As your eyes opened, there she was. Her eyes were cold and uncaring and her face filled with indifference. You remembered her walking the streets of London at night, chin held high as she sideyed you before continuing to walk past. Each time you saw her, she had a new pretty girl hanging on her arm. She seemed glamorous then and now that she stood at your bedside, you assumed she must have been some type of royalty. 

“Come here, darling.” Clothed in a black dress with long dark hair draping over her shoulders, the vampire stood over you, ushering you to sit up. Her voice was as smooth as silk with an accent you couldn’t place. She clearly wasn’t from London. Soft fingers tilted your head upwards, lifting your gaze to meet hers, “It’s time for you to eat.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Regardless of her desire for you to look at her, your eyes wandered around the room, taking in your environment. The room was dimly lit by candlelight and the primary colors decorating the walls were shades of crimson and black. The plethora of wall decor, fine furniture, and the quality of bedding emphasized this was a woman of great wealth. 

“Here. Take a drink.” Her voice calls you back. Blinking quickly, you turn your eyes back to the woman and catch sight of the gold goblet now being held out to you. Her fingers moved from your face, moving down to grasp your hand and guiding you to take hold of the goblet yourself, “The next few days will be... difficult. I plan on helping you through this transition.”

“What- what transition?”

“Oh, darling... You are one of us. You are a vampire now.”

Marilyn’s hand squeezed your own, drawing your head up. You could see her looking at you through her eyelashes, those wonderful brown eyes making a partial appearance. Her expression shifted from content slumber to a disheartening wince in mere seconds. She must be getting thirsty. You draw yourself up from your chair, coming to lean over the side of the bed, “How are you feeling?”

Marilyn’s eyes squeezed shut, her head rolling back against the pillow. You couldn’t tell if her discomfort was due to a growing hunger or due to the mending of bones and repairing of organs. Lifting her from under her arms, you helped her sit up in bed. Your hands found her cheeks, offering her guidance, “You need to eat. It will make you feel better.”

Just as your mentor did for you, you presented Marilyn with a goblet of blood. Even if the discomfort was due to pain rather than hunger, a meal would help the healing process. With your spare hand, you guide Marilyn’s hand to the goblet, pressuring her to hold it on her own. Marilyn’s eyes cracked open, recognizing she was holding a cup to drink from and raised it to her lips with now questions. 

From the moment the blood touched her lips, you would have thought a bolt of lightning had coursed through her body. Her eyes widened and she downed the remaining blood in seconds. When it was gone, she lowered the glass, her eyes crazed as she was hungry for more. You could see the mixture of desire and confusion on the redhead’s face. She wanted more, yet she couldn’t understand why she was craving blood, “Rowan… What-what’s happening?”

“Marilyn… I thought I was going to lose you… I-” You take the cup from her hands, placing it on the nightstand. You had paused to find the right words and gather her hands in yours, “You are a vampire now… I turned you.”

Her eyes narrowed in on you, almost like she didn’t want to believe what you had just told her. Marilyn was awash with conflicted emotions and you watched as they flashed through her eyes. She rose up out of bed, lunging at you, screaming ‘How could you?’ over and over again. 

Her hands grasped at the base of your neck as you both went tumbling to the floor. On the way down, your head made contact with the corner of your dresser, causing your ears to ring for a moment. Ignoring the throbbing in your skull, you sought to protect yourself, scrambling for dominance as the fall to the floor disoriented her. Grasping at her hands, you twist out from under her, pinning her to the floor instead. 

You could feel warmth spreading where you hit your head. A small trickle of blood ran onto your forehead as you listened to Marilyn continue her verbal rampage, “You turned me into a freak! I can’t be a bloodsucking killer! Just kill me! Just-”

“You were already a monster!” You screamed over her, causing her to go silent. You were digging your nails into her wrists, knowing full well you would be leaving a mark. The blood from your wound collected on your brow and dripped down to Marilyn’s cheek. She still trashed under you, desperate to free herself, “Marilyn! Stop!”

She slipped her knee through your legs and knocked you off balance once more. Marilyn was fast, but you were faster. She had attempted to crawl away, but you grasped her ankle, pulling you back to you. You moved to straddle her back, but she moved out from under you quicker than anticipated. Her hand grasped at your wrist, twisting until your arm was bent behind yourself and she pinned you to the ground by sitting on your back, “You were my friend. How could you do this to me, Rowan..? Answer me!”

“Because I love you!” The words flowed from your mouth quicker than you could stop them. Honesty had gotten the better of you and you were left to backtrack your words, “I just- I wanted to protect you... You were about to die. If you would have seen yourself in that hospital bed... I can’t live- I couldn’t let you die like that.”

“You-” Her grasp on you loosened as she slid off you and leaned against the side of the bed. You couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind. With her pre-existing illnesses, near death experiences, internalized bigotry, and the new urges brought on with vampirism, you weren’t surprised that her emotions were shifting so quickly, “You should have just let me die...” 

Before her first tear could fall, you scramble to her side, hands finding her cheeks, “No, no, no. Don’t say that. Please don’t cry.”

“I-I-I k-keep hur-hurting p-people.” Marilyn began to sob, each of her words broken apart as she tried to find her breath. Her arms warped around your neck as she pushed her way into your lap. Immediately, you drew her to you offering her the tightest of hugs as an attempt to calm her down enough to have a discussion. 

------

Marilyn was in desperate need of physical contact. She had refused to go anywhere or do anything without you next to her. Regardless of what she had done to you and the others you loved, it felt wonderful to be needed and wanted by someone. 

You rubbed her back as she consumed more blood. Technically, you were giving her most of your rations for the week, but it was better than taking her out in the open to hunt where she could be seen. Marilyn was seated in a barstool next to you, her head leaned against your chest, sipping her blood through a straw. 

“I’ll take you hunting in a few days... Until then you can just have my food...” You brought your hand up to her hair, gently stroking your fingers through her red locks. This was one of those moments that reminded you of how gentle and sweet Marilyn could be. If this is what Fern meant when she talked about moments of domestic bliss when she was with Larissa, then maybe you were more of a relationship person than you anticipated. 

“Rowan...” Her voice came gently, her tone sounding like she was asking a question. 

“Hmm?” You twisted one of the locks around your index and middle finger, unwound it, and began the process again on a new lock of hair. Her head tilted upwards, her chin resting between your breasts. You began running your nails over her scalp, earning a hum of appreciation from the woman beneath you. 

“Mmm... Thank you for being my best friend.”

Friend zoned. Is that what this was? After everything that you had been through together, you would have imagined that you would have meant a lot more to you than a best friend. The intimacy of all the hugs, tender words, and intense trust you had been building felt like so much more than friendship. 

How could you make her see you as so much more?

-------

Larissa asked you over to talk about Fern and her visions. You were attempting to stay present in the conversation, but the thought of Marilyn leaving your rooms was filling you with dread. She promised to stay put, but then again, she had broken her promises many times before. You knew the shapeshifter was being driven absolutely mad by the sleepwalking. Larissa hadn’t truly slept in days and you knew the wine was just going to make her even more tired. 

“I don’t know what to do with her, Rowan. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Larissa sat across from you in the living room, glass of blood wine in hand. You had put Fern to bed and stayed up to formulate a plan. Something had to give.

“Try being, Fern. She is losing her mind.” You shot back. It wasn’t a dig at Larissa, it was just the truth. Knowing your best friend, she felt incredibly guilty for impacting Larissa and yourself with the uncontrollable sleepwalking. 

“I love her too much to let anything happen to her. We need to figure out why this is happening.” Larissa leaned forward in her chair, setting the glass of wine on the coffee table before covering her face with her hands. 

“Perhaps we let her go to the lake, let the visions play out.” You offered, knowing it was a lazy but reasonable course of action. 

“I’m going to go check on her. We will figure this out after everyone gets a good night’s sleep.” Larissa drained the remainder of her wine, eyes glancing at the back bedroom where Fern slept before turning back to you, “Do you think you could watch her in the evenings on occasion? I need sleep...” 

You hesitated for a moment, pondering how you would have to leave Marilyn alone for extended periods. It was selfish of you. You wanted to be home with her instead, but you abandoned Fern and Larissa since the events in the cellar. Coming to their home tonight was the first time you had seen them in a week. If you were going to protect Marilyn and your friends whilst keeping them separate, your life was about to get a lot more challenging. 

Link to Chapter 12

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 4

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rown Ali)

Authors Note: Thank you to @c-lyn4ever for helping me with some ideas for this chapter!

Since the attack on the Ottinger boy, Principal Weems had teachers watching the halls at night. As one of the few vampires on staff, Larissa opted giving you the shift in the early hours of the morning from 1-3am. You were surprised when Marilyn turned down the hallway in which you were sitting, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” She took a seat next to you, cleaning her head back against the wall. You didn’t know it, but she was lying to you.

“Good news. You can help me keep all of these students in line.” You spread your arms out wide, gesturing to all of the nonexistent students that roamed the hallways. Marilyn chucked at your joke and leaned her head on your shoulder, resting there. You stopped gesturing when she did as you would rather have her touching you than the ability to make jokes.

“Is this okay?” Her hands came to grasp your forearm and bicep, allowing you to enjoy her warmth across your skin. She took a deep breath and snuggled in closer and you bit back a smile, taking mental notes to tell your best friend about later.

“Mhmm..” You hummed, knowing it was more than okay. You wanted this to be an all day everyday thing. Silence befell you for a few minutes, no sounds except for the thunderstorm beginning outside. Part of you considered asking her to be your girlfriend. Just to make things official so she would only want to be with you, but your stubbornness kept you from asking.

She spoke up after a few minutes, “I’ve been seeing Larissa…”

You felt your heart crack, not in two but enough to need stitches. You kept all of the emotions pushed deep down, bottling them up and planning on throwing away the key. Your voice was quiet and calm, unable to hide the heartbreak, “Oh… That sounds nice…”

“Yes… Yes, it is.”

Marilyn stayed with you your entire shift. You were plagued with mixed signals. She rested on your shoulder and held your hand, both of which you found to be odd interactions if she was with Weems. She even allowed you to walk her back to her rooms in Ophelia Hall, even then she held your hand on the way back.

You stopped at her doorway, even when she walked in her rooms and left the door open for you. After tonight, you knew you couldn’t stay. If you kept sleeping with her and having moments you had tonight, the crack in your heart would become a gaping hole. Marilyn smiled at you, cocking her head, “Aren’t you going to come in?”

You shook your head, looking down at your shoes, “I should probably get back to my rooms so I can be up on time for classes.”

“Oh, okay…” She seemed disappointed which made you happy in a small, fucked up way. Marilyn approached you once more, her eyes looking up into yours. Her expression was almost impossible to read, “I really like you Rowan. I wish you would have wanted a relationship.”

“Me too.” You respond, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips before leaving her alone in the doorway to her rooms.

———

The next few days passed like a category 5 hurricane, destroying the school and your trust in others. Larissa was dead or at least you thought she was. Marilyn was behind the murders. And to make matters worse, you were still in love with her. When the semester ended early, you immediately called up Fern and flew out to Wisconsin to spend the time off with her and her family.

You couldn’t believe you were crying in Fern’s room. You could count on one hand the number of times you have cried in the past decade. Emotions had no place in the life of a vampire, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Fern sat on the bed as you sat on the floor. If you were going to cry, you wanted to create some type of distance between the two of you. You were so frustrated and you hadn’t been able to speak to anyone about it all, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

“Preach.” Fern’s monotone word brought a smile to your face for a fraction of a second before you continued your raging.

“I can’t fucking stand that I let her get under my skin. Fuck! And I still want her under my skin! I’ve never wanted to turn someone like this before. She could be my queen of the night. I would spend eternity worshipping at her alter, but NO!” You began a small rampage, turning and laying back against the carpeted floor. Your hands were gesturing wildly as you spoke, completely infuriated by the woman that captivated you and who now sat in prison, “Instead, she attempted to kill all of the outcasts at Nevermore! She hates outcasts. She hates us all! Yet, she is willing to sleep with me and my boss! Explain that to me!”

“I mean you have a type.” Fern knew that humor was the only way to cheer you up, “You said Lizzie Borden was great in bed.”

“She was! And so was this psycho! I sure know how to pick ‘em.” You sat up abruptly, coming to rest your head on Fern’s bed. In return, she reached out a hand and stroked your hair, “Oh, Fern…”

Fern laid on the bed in front of you, creeping closer so she could rub your back, “Well, like you always tell me, ‘To get over someone, you might need to get under someone else.’”

“You telling me that you should dumb Sydnee and we should date one another.” You made a joke, voice muffled by the mattress beneath you. Fern smiled at your words, knowing that with a little time, you were going to be alright.

———

“You are going to apply?” You were practically jumping up and down behind Fern as she scrolled through the job listing for the botany professor position at Nevermore Academy. Knowing that you would be returning to Nevermore with a possible friend would be incredibly helpful after the past semester you had, “Fern, we will cause so much trouble and there is no way you won’t get the job.”

“I did apply. I sent in my application two days ago. I’m just anxiety scrolling and thinking of everything I missed in my resume and curriculum vitae.” Fern was trying to downplay her abilities, but you knew her resume backed up her abilities as well with a PhD and teaching skills within the world of plant science, “And besides, there is more than one outcast with the power to manipulate plants, Ro.”

“Yeah, whatever. I think that I could convince the professor across the hall from me to switch-”Her phone began ringing and you glance over her shoulder to see the 802 telephone area code for Vermont, “Holy shit, Ferny. Answer it!”

She shushed you quickly before swiping the bottom of the phone screen to answer the call. You wrap your arms around her neck and lean in to listen closely to the call. Fern smiles and presses the speaker button so you can hear everything. Fern was the one to speak first, “Hello, this is Fern Rogers.”

The familiar and pleasant voice of your boss was the one on the other end of the line. She must not have been dead after all, “Hello. This is Larissa Weems. I am the principal of Nevermore Academy. I’ve looked over your resume and I must say, you sound a little too good to be true.”

You couldn’t help but shake Fern in her chair, pure excitement washed over you. She had to stifle a laugh before speaking, “I am so pleased to hear that, Principal Weems. I promise that it is all true. I just finished a small stint with the National Park Service and I am really looking to get back into the education world. Teaching is my passion.”

“I’m very glad to hear that. We received a wonderful letter of recommendation from our own Dr. Ali as well. We are looking to interview you as soon as possible. Sadly, I won’t be able to interview you myself. Instead, the board of directors is looking to speak with you about the position.” Your mind was racing with Larissa’s words. In your opinion, an interview from the board would be far easier than one with Larissa. She could certainly be a hard-ass about who could and couldn’t work at Nevermore, after all Marilyn was a board hire.

“I can’t wait. You give me a time and a place and I will be there. I’m very excited about the prospect of this possition.” Fern was never able to hold her cherubic excitement about things like this. You found her to be absolutely adorable for it.

You almost missed how professional Larissa was at all times, “We will be in contact. Have a lovely day, Dr. Rogers.”

“You as well, Principal Weems.” Fern hung up the phone and it was impossible for her to hide her excitement. She jumped up on her chair and you picked her up and hugged her just like you both used to do at Nevermore when you heard great news. Fern paused cheer to look down at you, “Was that tall hot blonde?”

You grin at her, knowing that Fern had been dying to see what Larissa looked like, “Yes it was.”

[daydream-cement]

Cold Dead Heart Ch. 6

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: This primarily takes place during Ch. 5 of Stately Sequoia. Thank you to @booitsrue for helping me figure out this chapter.

You were still a little hungover from the night before when you sat in Fern’s classroom discussing her ‘Welcome to Nevermore’ night out at the bar. You were completely taken aback when Fern divulged Larissa had told her that she looked for obedience in a woman and then proceeded to kiss her after she took her home, “She said what to you? Tell me you’re lying!”

“Rowan! Can you keep it down?” Her hands raised in an effort to calm you and your yelling, “I don’t want the whole school knowing.”

“How can I remain calm? You are living every sapphic’s dream…” You couldn’t deny that you were deliriously excited for Fern. After her break-up with that Sarah person, Fern had been positive that she would never want to date again, but here she was making a move on your boss, “A beautiful, tall woman who wants you, Fern… wants you…”

“We have a date tonight…” She began to spiral, eyes growing wide, “I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean you can’t do this? You need to do this! You need to do her! Do it for your fans, Ferny.” You began to laugh, grabbing her arm and shaking her. By fans you were talking about yourself, mainly. Fern had been talking about Larissa nonstop since she arrived and Nevermore, hopefully if they started dating, Fern would be able to help you with your current crisis of falling in love with Marilyn.

“Fans? I mean, honestly, Rowan, I’m trying to have a discussion here.” Fern seemed to be shaking like a small dog, any excitement she had about the progression of their relationship was fading fast.

“I’m here. I’m listening. And what I’m hearing is that you can’t keep your hands off of each other. Is that such a bad thing? Don’t screw yourself over here.” You tried helping her get some confidence back, “You know what always used to make you feel better?”

“No, Ro. Not now.” She was shaking her head while you nodded. It was time for an Ali-Rogers ABBA Party.

“Yes, now is exactly the time, do you still remember our choreography?” You jumped from your seat, pulling her up with you, so you could dance to “Why Did It Have To Be Me?”

-------

You were late to your meeting with Larissa due to your dance break with Fern and her usual teasing relationship you shared was completely absent. She seemed cold and distant with you, “What did you schedule this meeting for, Dr. Ali?

You were taken aback by her cold demeanor and her not using your first name. You attempt to match her professionalism, hoping she will come around, “I- Well, I scheduled this to talk with you about allocating more funds to the astronomy department.”

“I don’t think this is currently-” Larissa took a deep breath, leaning forward and folding her hands in front of her on her desk.

You cut her off quickly, not wanting to allow her to tell you no before you have presented all of the relevant information to why you deserve additional funding for your department, “Before you say anything, I have some figures about the success of the program I have been developing over my time here at Nevermore. I emailed them to you this morning.”

“I’m perfectly aware of the success of your program, but I don’t think we can be moving around funding mid-semester. Now-” You hated how she was speaking to you. She was using that diplomatic and slightly condescending tone with you.

“Larissa, we talked about this last week during our meeting about my lesson planning for the semester and you told me the funding was there. I don’t understand-” You were growing more and more frustrated at how obstinate she was being. It was like she wasn’t even listening to you.

“Dr. Ali, I understand your frustration.” Her tone made you even angrier. You didn’t need her talking down to you. Larissa’s fingers flexed over her computer, almost like she was done with the conversation and wanted you to leave.

“You understand zilch.” Your words were quick and filled with vitriol.

“I understand I’m still the boss around here. Now, if you can continue this meeting without acting ridiculous. I’d be happy to chat about the potential for funding in a year or two.” Larissa had that smile plastered on her face that was typically reserved for threatening others with kindness. She was speaking to you like you were one of the students.

“A year or two?” You leaned in towards her desk, gesturing wildly with your hands at this point, “Larissa! We just discussed additional funding now! What is your-”

“What is my problem?” Larissa was seething as she stared at you, little did you know, much of it was stemming from jealousy as she had seen you dancing with Fern and now was under the assumption you and her were more than friends, “My problem is your lack of professionalism, Dr. Ali.”

You click your teeth and roll your eyes, pushing up out of your chair. Larissa sat back in her chair, triumphant in winning your argument. Striding towards the front door to her office, you pull it open, glancing back to give her a fake curtsey, sarcastically demonstrating your professionalism, “Good day, Principal Weems.”

-------

You were relaxing in Fern’s room, awaiting her return from her date with Larissa. You were on the phone with Marilyn, chatting lightly about your day, “My day was good! I’ve been getting ready for the semester to start. My old roommate at Nevermore started working here too, so she and I have been spending more time together as well.”

“Fern? Didn’t you tell me about her once?” Marilyn’s voice seemed to be brighter with each phone call, reminding you of the the person she was when you first met her.

“Yeah. She and I have been best friends for quite a long time…” You stretch out across Fern’s bed with the phone on speakerphone resting on your chest.

Marilyn seemed to pause for a moment as she weighed whether or not she wanted to share the next piece of information with you, “I-I have been starting to see a therapist now…”

“You decided to see a therapist?” You couldn’t deny that you were a little shocked by her confession. From your last discussion with Marilyn, she seemed perfectly content in believing she was justified for her actions. Everything seemed to be convoluted with her. In her letters, she felt guilty, over the phone she was vulnerable, and in person she was cold.

“It’s court mandated, but I think it will be good for me… I’ve been thinking about what you said…”

“Which thing?” Your voice was quiet, almost scared to ask.

“About my family… I think I have some things I need to work through…” Her tone made her seem as though she was sure about this fact.

You certainly didn’t want to respond with your typical ‘I told you so’. You wanted to encourage her to get the help she so desperately needed and deserved, “That sounds good… How has it been going?”

“It’s hard.. I- I just think it’s hard to open up… to- to people I don’t know…” Marilyn’s voice cracked ever so slightly, the fear in her voice was palpable. Listening to the rise and fall of her emotions made you realize just how complex and traumatized an individual she was.

“I can understand that. I think the more you go, the more comf-” You were interrupted by Fern jingling her bedroom door, about to come in, “I’m sorry, Marilyn. I have to go. I’ll see you on Saturday, okay?”

“Oh, okay. Yeah-” You could sense the disappointment in her voice, but you couldn’t have Fern find out that you had been speaking to her.

“Bye.” You speak before she can even finish the sentence, pushing the phone down to your side and glancing up to see a bleary-eyed Fern. She broke down, a sobbing mess. It turns out the date had failed miserably as Larissa thought you were both dating. That explains why your own meeting with her went so poorly.

------

You went back to your quarters after spending a couple hours trying to talk Fern out of her funk. The rejection from Larissa seemed to have shaken your friend and her current outlook on love seemed to be quite jaded. The entire time she cried and opened up, guilt had been creeping up on you. You were supposedly best friends, but you were hiding a portion of your life that had begun to fill much of your spare time.

Correspondence with Marilyn had begun to take many different forms. Letters had become a constant between the two of you, weekly visits took up many of your Saturdays, and occasionally you would receive a call a couple times a week. She had progressively been opening up about her experiences as well as allowing you glimpses into her dark mind.

In one of her most recent letters, she had written to you, I am finding that there are parts of me that I completely despise. I have compulsions to hurt others and do terrible things. Sometimes when I think I’m getting better, I feel like I want to hurt others just for breathing. I could be normal. I could be better, but not while these thoughts torment me.

Most wouldn’t understand the compulsions she was talking about, but you did. It has taken you years to become comfortable with taking a life to live. You had lived through the moments of extreme hunger where the compulsion to kill was absolutely uncontrollable. In many ways, you could understand her illness as vampirism had brought you many of the same painful thoughts and emotions.

Much to your chagrin, you were falling for Marilyn. You wouldn’t say it out loud in fear of speaking it into existence.

Link to Chapter 7

[daydream-cement]

Cold Head Heart Ch. 5

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: SORRY THAT I HAVENT UPDATED IN FOREVER. I WAS TOO ENTRACED BY THE ANGST THAT WAS VIOLET AND ROSE.

"That might be the meet-cute of the century! And she just loomed over you and said what?" You were laying on Fern Rogers' bed, kicking your feet back and forth as you flicked through a Better Homes and Gardens magazine that had been in her purse. She was busying herself by unpacking her trunks and generally settling into her new quarters.

She mimicked your boss's accent when she repeated the phrase Larissa said when they ran into one another at the train station, "'Oh dear. Cat got your tongue?'… Jesus, she is a beautiful woman. I had no clue what to say to her."

"Slow down there, tiger. You haven't worked here a full 24 hours and you're already pining for your boss." You tossed the magazine onto Fern's desk and sat up in her bed, stretching out as you spoke to her, "You don't even know if she likes you."

"I flirted a little in the car… and she said 'You flatter me, doctor. You better watch out… Flattery will get you everywhere.'" Fern was dancing around as she refolded a pair of jeans when she mimicked Larissa's voice once more.

You kicked your feet against the bed, completely giddy that Fern was able to get the ever-reserved Larissa Weems to flirt back, "That is absolutely incredible. When you see her naked, I want all the details."

The jeans, once in her hands, hit your face and Fern scolded you, "Must you be so crude?"

"Oh, come on… You know you want her." You raised your eyebrows at her once you removed the jeans from your face.

"I want to get to know her…" Fern had her hands on her hips as she approached the bed to retrieve her jeans from you. She dipped her face low and whispered her final thought, "…and then I want to climb her like a tree…"

------

You weren't particularly proud of yourself as you drove to the Chittenden Regional Correctional Facility in South Burlington. Marilyn had sent you a letter while in prison, asking how you were and if you would be willing to come see her. You had never been to a correctional facility to visit anyone so this was an entirely new experience. Marilyn's letter had just seemed so desperate and lonely. You had sworn her off months ago, but once you saw your name scrawled in her delicate handwriting, you were hooked in once more.

You had been sitting in the parking lot of the correctional facility, psyching yourself up to go inside when Fern called. You grabbed your wallet and keys from the passenger side seat while holding the phone up to your ear, "Hey, Ferny. What's up?"

"Where are you? I have to talk to you about a run-in I just had with Weems!" Her voice was almost a whisper as she was trying to make sure Larissa wouldn’t be able to hear her divulging her excitement from the recent interaction. Ever since the two of them met, Fern had been overanalyzing almost each interaction, hoping that every word and glimpse meant that Larissa liked her as much as she liked Larissa.

"I'm grabbing a bite to eat. What happened?" You lied blatantly, not caring to share the truth with her, or anyone else for that matter.

"I was going a little too fast around a corner and I ran right into her, again. Her arm was around my waist and I kissed her hand and it was so tense and awkward and then I think she asked me out." Fern was talking a-mile-a-minute as you walked closer to the front doors.

Instantly, one detail in her story stands out amongst the rest and you had to tease her for it, "You did what? Kissed her hand? What is this? The 1800s?"

"It was cute! She had her hand by my face and I just thought it was cute! Don't make me question myself!" Fern was being extremely defensive and she seemed out of breath, she must have been running late to dinner. While you were more suave and forward with romantic interests, Fern had always been more gentle and reserved which you were sure Larissa greatly appreciated.

You moved on from the teasing and picked out the second detail in her story that warranted further questioning, "What do you mean by you thinking she asked you on a date?"

Your question made her second guess herself, "She asked me if I wanted to go on a walk tomorrow…"

"I see. It's like a not-date date. One where it doesn't seem super official, but if you start dating, you will both say 'Oh, yeah. That was our first date.'" You tried explaining the nuance of the date to her, knowing she had been out of the dating game for a few years.

"You think so? Do I like… bring her flowers?" You almost wanted to let out a laugh at how darling this kid was sometimes, but instead you try to reassure her a bit.

"No… Don't stress about it, hon. I'll be back later tonight and we can chat about what you are going to do." You grasp at one of the front doors to the correctional facility, trying to end the call before you go inside.

"Okay sounds good. Bye."

"Bye."

------

Marilyn was different. Her perfect haircut and chipper demeanor from when you first met her were completely gone. She seemed tired and her body even smaller as she was swallowed by the uniform she was forced to wear. You bit at your thumbnail as she sat down, both of you seemed all too nervous by the other's presence.

Her voice was quiet at first, unsure if your reasoning for coming was hostile or well natured, "Hi, Rowan… I see you got my letter."

"I did…" You kept your response short, unsure of what to say.

Marilyn paused for a moment before speaking again, even more hesitant with her words, "How- How have you been?"

"Good…” This conversation seemed so trivial. Why had she even asked you here? You continue with the pleasantries, hoping that she will begin to open up, “And you?”

“Uhm… It’s been different living here…” Marilyn nodded and offered a half smile.

“I can only imagine.”

This conversation was beyond painful. You were beginning to pine for the days where you would lay in bed with one another and talk about nothing and everything for hours on end. Why did she have to go and make everything so complicated?

“How is Larissa?” She offered a new line of questioning.

You looked at her skeptically, almost positive that this may have been the reason she asked you here. Larissa had been her romantic obsession when she attempted to destroy Nevermore, so it wouldn’t be shocking if she was still on her mind. You give her a short response, not wanting her to know much about your boss, “Alive and well… Ready for a new school year.”

“Good…”

Silence befell you both once again, but you were the one to break it now, “Why did you do it?”

“I thought it was the right thing… My father… My family was killed by outcasts.” The way Marilyn answered almost made it seem like she wasn’t even sure of her own answer, rather it was what she had been telling herself to avoid the truth.

You decided to challenge her, “Were they really? Your brother’s death was due to your father’s bigotry. Your mother died of a broken heart, and your father-”

She cut you off, her temper ready to fly off the handle, “Don’t talk about my family like that. I know how they-”

“You were abused for years, Marilyn. Abused and manipulated.” She looked away from you, her eyes were filled with anger and embarrassment and she didn’t want you to see. You were seething with your own form of rage, unable to have outcasts take the blame for the hand Marilyn had been dealt, “You shouldn’t let that bitterness consume you. Life is full of death… and disappointment… but it isn’t hard to find the good in it.”

She went quiet. You couldn’t tell if she was beginning to ignore you or if she was considering your response. You are watching her intently now, wondering what was going through her wretched yet beautiful mind.. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and you are reminded of those passing periods spent in the broom closet. Her face was downcast on the table in front of her and she picked at her nails. Those hands. Those hands that had caused so much damage yet brought you so much pleasure in the early hours of the morning.

You began to question yourself, wondering if you were conflating love with lust.

Her voice broke you from your thoughts. It was soft and desperate. Her eyes looked up at you almost like she was pouting. Her eyes were begging you, “Will you come back next week?”

You were reminded of those nights she would come to your room after being rejected by Larissa, saying ‘no’ to her was impossible then too. You considered her question for a moment and you knew that you were doing something wrong when you gave your answer, “Yes…”

As you walked from the correctional center, you wondered if she was manipulating you again. You wondered if she wanted to rope you into some larger scheme when all you wanted to do was love her.

Link to Chapter 6