#( ♔ | ᴬ ᴾᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ˢᵘᶤᵗ ᴼᵛᵉʳ ᴬ ᴸᵒᶰᵉˡʸ ᴴᵉᵃʳᵗ | Glitch IC )

[gliitched-realiity]

Anonymous asked: ✉ from Glitch to Vincent omg please

TXT MEME.  || Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

Glitch could barely think, if it was being entirely honest with itself. A terrible migraine had settled into its skull, the world was blurring slightly from all the wine he had drank in the past few hours, and he was fairly certain that he had accidentally hurt its already-damaged shoulders from exactly how tensed-up he'd been all night. How an ordinary evening at home alone had turned into... this, the Fracture didn't know.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He could guess at how things had escalated into something so dreadful, at least. The original plan had been to rest at its apartment, drink until the awful sensations that had plagued its body all day were finally numbed, and then maybe, just maybe, try to get some sleep... None of that had ended up happening, clearly. Instead, he had found himself sprawled out across his leather sofa — drunk, muscles aching, with a screaming headache.

And nothing else that he'd been trying to numb had improved, either.

Too-quick movements, Glitch suddenly shifted to grab his cellphone from where it had previously been discarded onto the coffee-table. There had to be something he could do about this, even if he couldn't ——

        feed

               hunt

—— kill anyone, right now.

[✉ → Vincent]  Are you busy?

No, worrying the precious little dove wouldn't do any good. And surely, a question like that would do exactly that.

[✉ → Vincent]  Do I still have wine at your house?

Desperation, at best. Even if there was extra wine, laced or not, at Vincent's apartment, that wouldn't really matter. That wasn't ENOUGH for how fucking bad this had gotten.

A frustrated growl formed in its throat, cellphone angrily thrown to the side — clattering noisily against the end-table without a text sent.

     ❝ Damn it — ❞

His throat was absolutely on fire; it felt like somebody had shoved a lit match down it while simultaneously holding the point of a dagger against his vocal chords. That terrible gnawing pain had settled into its stomach again. Beyond the pains, he was starting to feel downright dizzy — and as much as he wanted to blame the alcohol, that had been happening all fucking day, so he knew that wasn't actually the problem. Everything ached, even muscles that didn't usually cause him grief, and at this point, it was starting to feel like the universe was playing some sort of sick joke on his nervous system.

   Fuck, he was so HUNGRY.

The next several... ( minutes? hours? it was getting difficult to keep track of time with how hazy his mind had gotten ) ... were a distressing blur that, in all honesty, he'd entirely lost track of. There was too much of everything — too much pain, too much disorientation, too many intrusive thoughts to even keep track of where one started and another ended.

When the world finally tried to refocus, the taste of fresh blood was pooling in his mouth. A brief moment of ecstasy flooded through it, back arching slightly, a low whimper of unadulterated NEED slipping out from its lips.

       Fuck, more. Please —

Crimson eyes snapped open abruptly, a gasp echoing through the otherwise silent walls of his apartment, as the sharp pain in his own wrist actually registered. And for a minute, he sincerely had to debate if he actually cared that it was his own blood, that this wasn't actually going to make the hunger stop for very long, that the years of self-destruction for the sake of easily-accessed blood were supposed to be OVER.

After a moment's struggle, it finally managed to force its own fangs away from its skin. The bite-mark left behind wasn't terrible, in the grand scheme of things, but the distinct puncture wounds were undeniable. A greedy tongue swept out over them, lapping away at the bloody injury until supernatural healing, inevitably, started to try to knit the skin back together.

It shouldn't have been so fucking easy for those to close, damn it.

In the aftermath, Glitch was panting, breathes hitched with some twisted cocktail of hunger, lust, and distress. Pale fingers twisted, roughly tugging at a ruby tie to loosen it — anything to take some of the pressure out of his burning throat. He desperately needed to FOCUS, he knew, but trying to do that was... easier said than done.

Minutes passed in silence, save for its heavy breathing and the muffled buzz of household appliances that always felt a little too loud when nobody was making sound in the apartment. Dual auras flickered harshly around it, a harsh contrast to the otherwise dark room, vibrant colors twisting and flaring alongside the seemingly endless series of emotional flips.

When he could finally halfway form rational thoughts again, though they still felt dreadfully 'to the left', he tried to reevaluate the situation:

Why did you bite yourself? You haven't done something like that in ages.

Starving vampires do strange things, don't they?

Right. Of course that was the problem; he was fucking HUNGRY, because he hadn't been able to hunt in over a month, so he'd finally slipped up. Nobody could expect a vampire to spend that much time without feeding and then NOT end up struggling ——

—— No, no, no, STOP.

   You're a Fracture.

      You are a FRACTURE.

   You are not a —

Something hauntingly similar to dysphoria sparked before he could even finish that thought, a visceral growl tearing its way from his throat. Disgusting. Everything about this was DISGUSTING. Damn it, why wasn't it —

You're NOT a vampire. You're a Fracture.

   You are not —

FUCK.

         ❝ Fuck! ❞

The curse was shouted into an empty apartment, echoing off the walls, a shrill ringing briefly filling the room before it was forcibly silenced. Immediately, a terrible cough followed the curse, as the Fracture's hand flew to his own neck, trying miserably to sooth that awful burn as it flared again. Tears briefly stung at its eyes before they were harshly blinked away, and then he moved to pick his cellphone back up.

[✉ → Reese]  I need your help.

No, even they would think that he was fucking crazy for whatever this spiral was. Hell, even he was starting to wonder if its sanity had finally cracked a bit too far.

[✉ → Vincent]  I think this fixation shit is getting worse. I feel fucking crazy & I don't know what to do.

But could he really say that to his host, of all people? Not hardly. Surely if the Fracture was suffering this much, then somewhere in the depths of Vincent's mind, he wasn't well either. Either that was the case, or Glitch was just finally snapping itself, and regardless of which this may have been...

No, it wasn't rational to reach out to its host right now. Perhaps they needed to discuss the topic later, but right now, in the middle of these agonizing spirals, that wasn't going to work out.

Fuck, he was so hungry. And when had he started actually crying — ?

[✉ → Anti]  Please come over. I need blood. Now.

[gliitched-realiity]

Anonymous asked: (hugs) 17

HUGS MEME.  ||   17. a hug where one muse stops the other from collapsing.

———————————————————————

Watching the boy carelessly stumble around their apartment as though absolutely nothing was wrong was, at best, infuriating — at worst, worrisome, if only the Fracture had actually been capable of feeling concern like that. As it stood, there was no shock in seeing Vincent looking so horribly ILL either.

When was the last time that the little dhampir had actually fed...? Properly, for that matter?

Years.

The persistent BURN in its own throat flared, a painful reminder of exactly how unwell they both were. No matter how much the elder hunted, nothing seemed to dull the symptoms for more than a couple of days at this point — and frequently, it didn't even last that long. He was troubled by the ordeal, but ultimately, it shouldn't have been surprised.

When your own health is primarily a reflection of someone else's, you can't properly treat it. Sealing over the cracks in a damaged mirror would never change how close it was to finally shattering.

❝ You should likely sit down, Vincent-dear. You seem a bit lightheaded today. ❞

Softly spoken suggestions into the quiet air of the apartment — never silent, but always kept at a lower volume to avoid the grating sound of every-day life that, inevitably, they would both have to deal with later.

"Hm? Oh- I'm okay, Glitch."

Crimson eyes rolled as his host flashed that carefree smile, waving a hand as though to dismiss the notion. It knew better, and surely the boy was aware of that — surely he remembered that it could feel every flare of pain that formed in his throat, every wave of dizziness that washed over him, every moment of unadulterated HUNGER right alongside the resulting denial.

"Don't worry so much, sweetheart."

There was that old pet-name — something he had originally used for the sake of calling it something, but now had persisted into their friendship all these years later. Adoration tried to form only to corrupt into something closer to obsessive affection, and the ghost of a smile curled across its lips despite the conversation at hand. Despite knowing that, somewhere beneath that innocent mask, Vincent was really just manipulating him into not pushing the topic —

They really weren't so different after all.

❝ It is quite literally my job to be concerned for your health. ❞

Factually murmured, as the Fracture settled to lean against a nearby wall, black fingernails tapping roughly against the shelf that its hand had settled on for stability. He should have been angry, perhaps, by the knowledge that his host was being manipulative — was using something usually so sweet, to disarm him.

He wasn't. If anything, he was PROUD. It was a glimpse of the REAL Vincent. Of the boy that he'd been so desperately trying to take care of all this time.

"Maybe, but still - don't stress over it."

Another innocent smile, the tips of his fangs briefly showing in the expression. Precious as ever, even when he was being difficult.

"More importantly, are you okay? You don't seem very steady either, y'know."

Bittersweet laughter briefly drifted through the air, having formed somewhere deep in the Fracture's chest and then dissipated into an echo of the actual sound. A harsh glitch flickered through its corporeal form, though he still managed to be smiling when that re-stabilized. Darling, foolish Vincent.

❝ My leg is giving me grief today. It's fine. ❞

Not to mention the mirrored dizziness and pains that only served to worsen Glitch's own health conditions, but that was... well, it was the literal point, but he didn't care to make Vincent feel quite that guilty. That wasn't an effective way to actually get through to the boy, and it never had been. Besides, his bad leg was legitimately half of the problem today.

"You should try to rest it, sweetheart."

❝ When I'm convinced that you aren't going to fall out on me? Perhaps I will. ❞

Ah, accidental foreshadowing in the world of stressed minds.

———————————————————————

It was only a few hours later that Vincent stumbled again — and this time, the world briefly went black, a series of seconds lost in time that would only ever be recalled as distressed nothing.

When the world came back to him again, his vision was blurring, spots dancing in it. Though to his own shock, he wasn't on the damn ground. Instead, he was wrapped up in the safety of his Fracture's arms, its mouth twisted so far into a worried frown that the tips of its fangs had sliced open its lip. Pretty scarlet stained across greyscale skin, and his throat ached, vibrant eyes blinking harshly as he tried to make sense of reality again, tried to shove those thoughts back down in the same moment.

"Vincent, are you alright?"

That soft accent curled beautifully through the words, comforting as the day he'd first properly heard Glitch's voice. Something about that... helped, made things feel a bit more stable. Several soft breathes, his fingers curled into the elder's blazer, trying to find his own balance.

( Needless. Glitch would never let him actually fall. )

❝ Yeah, I'm... Yeah, I will be. ❞

Probably.

"Come here then. You need to feed from somebody, whether you'll hunt or not."

———————————————————————

[gliitched-realiity]

@theabandonedones asked:

ø from Glitch to Shay

TXT MEME.  ||  Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

Another day, another night of restlessly turning in the confines of his apartment's bed. He should have been asleep hours ago, all things considered. There were far too many tasks during the weekend  —  grading papers, setting up the next week's PowerPoints, editing videos, filming, keeping Vincent from losing his fucking mind, the list went on  —  to find himself unable to rest like this. And yet.

Pale fingers coiled into the black satin of its sheets, a frustrated growl rumbling in its throat. Perhaps attempting to sleep at its own apartment had been a poor idea, but he was loathe to admit that it had any craving for its host's company.

Disgusting.

Perhaps Shay was still available to talk.

[✉ → Princess]  Are you awake? I can't sleep.

Message tapped out and sent before the Fracture could think much better of it, a small snarl curled across grey lips. It sincerely doubted that the little princess would be awake right now  —  and she really shouldn't have been  —  but... well, what was the harm in trying?

Not that she really needed her lonely professor's nonsense right now, but it being a bit selfish wasn't anything new.

[gliitched-realiity]

TAG DUMP: Glitch

( ♔ | ᴰᵉᵃˡ ᵂᶤᵗʰ ᵞᵒᵘʳ ᴳˡᶤᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴵᶰ ᴾʳᶤᵛᵃᵗᵉ | Glitch’s Thoughts )

( ♔ | Glitch’s Likes )

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( ♔ | Glitch’s Desires )

( ♔ | Glitch’s Aesthetic )

( ♔ | Glitch’s Wardrobe )

( ♔ | Crack ft. Glitch )

( ♔ | Glitch HCs )

( ♔ | ᴬ ᴾᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ˢᵘᶤᵗ ᴼᵛᵉʳ ᴬ ᴸᵒᶰᵉˡʸ ᴴᵉᵃʳᵗ | Glitch IC )

( ♔ | Glitch / Victor )