#Okay so I made Tav more of an asshole than I originally planned

[scrapsovereign]

That One Time I Got Kidnapped By An Evil Vampire Lord Ch. 2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57838303/chapters/147393754#workskin

Summary: To say that Mackenzie's day starts off on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. A stranger shows up at her work and is about to make her day a lot more interesting.

Pairings: past Ascended Astarion x Evil male!Tav, Ascended Astarion x Original Female Character

Trigger warnings/Tags: cheating, intimate partner violence, abusive relationships, medical settings, body shaming, internalized fatphobia

Renton Highlands, Washington  

Thursday, August 21rst 

8:30 AM 

“What’s the deal with Nurse Brad? He blood sugar shamed me, which I think was low-key fat-shaming,” Mackenzie complains, her mouth full of breakfast sandwich. “I’m getting bro podcast vibes from him,” she says out one side of her mouth as she chews her food with the other.

She reaches into Rob’s cup holder and takes a sip of the Annihilator she’d ordered from Dutch Bros. She takes a moment to savor the taste of 6 espresso shots, half and half, and white chocolate macadamia nut while Rob finishes chewing to say his piece.

“Lo-ki? I need the Thor-ough details- ohwhoathere!” Rob’s eyes go wide at the Tesla that almost side-swiped his Subaru Outback as he drives down the road to Mac’s.

“He said that if I went paleo and went to his CrossFit gym my A1C wouldn’t be so bad. Like excuse me, I’m on my feet all day already, and today’s the first time in weeks I’ve had fast food and a fancy coffee drink. Oh! And that I need to start reframing my paradigm to embody a ‘high value female’,” Mac rants, imitating the tone of voice Brad used with her earlier. “What does that even mean?!”

“I hate it when dudes say ‘females’,” Rob says, letting his long, salt and pepper brown hair down from its bun. 

“Right? It's so Ferengi-coded. Like, try me again when you have the latinum, small-ears…you haven’t got the lobes,” Mackenzie snickers, Rob utterly lost on what Star Trek deep lore she’s referencing.

“Is that the Star Track? What do they say, ‘Live long and let the force be with you’?” He says with a mischievous grin, turning down Mackenzie’s street.

Mackenzie sighs, taking another long sip of her coffee drink to hide her annoyance. “Yep. And also with you,” she says, deadpan. 

Rob pulls up on the side of the street across from the house she rents with Ari and turns the car off, squinting at her driveway. “Whose car is that?” 

Mac feels that all-knowing lump inside her gut solidify as she sets eyes on her car beside the other in the driveway.

“That’s Ari’s friend Jasmine, they met at ECCC this year,” Mac says blandly, taking another bite of her half-finished breakfast sandwich. 

It turns to ash in her mouth.

She gulps it down, wrapping up the other half and shoving it into her work backpack. Hopefully she’ll remember to eat it on the way back to work. 

Her phone buzzes in her hands- it’s her boss, Amanda.

“Hey-“

“Are you okay? How are you feeling? Are you still there? Do you need someone to come get you?” Amanda blurts out in a run-on sentence.

Mackenzie’s throat feels tight contemplating Amanda’s concern for her. 

Rob’s attention perks up from his phone. “Is that A-man-da Hug n’ kiss?!” He asks excitedly.

“Is that Bobbertina I hear? Heeeeeey Bobby boy!” She shouts, her voice easily heard through the phone’s speaker.

“You know, you can do this over text, or the D and D sessions where you see each other every week,” Mackenzie says flatly, watching Rob shake his head.

“Nah, it wouldn’t hit the same, you know? Hey, so, how you feelin’ Mac? Should we see you tomorrow?” Amanda asks, offering Mac the out if she wants to take the day off. 

Mac sighs wearily, rubbing her forehead. “Nah…I’m coming in. I don’t have any PTO left for a full day. Probably about 10 at the latest?” 

“Hmmm…if you’re sure…okay. Dr. Anderson called off, so it’s inbasket hell- I mean, fun for you today. I’ll help cover until you get in,” Amanda says proudly, her car door closing in the background of the call. 

Mackenzie feels a chill come over her- Amanda working in anything else other than her nurse triage inbasket is a nightmare. 

She’d better get to work before Amanda makes too much of a mess in there.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then,” Mac says lamely. She likes her unhinged grand-millennial manager, but always feels awkward wrapping up a conversation with her.

“Okay, see you soon!” Amanda exclaims before ending the call. 

Mackenzie slumps in the car, closing her eyes for a moment to steady the flip-flopping of her stomach. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home?” Rob asks, his brow furrowed in worry. “Ari’s home, he could help take care of you.”

“No…he’s streaming today and I don’t want to impose on him…” Mac slides further down in the seat, hoping that it renders her invisible. 

Rob’s jaw tenses, his fingers tap on the steering wheel. “You’re too nice. He’s supposed to do that for you, you know that, right? Sickness and health and all that?” He states to the road ahead of them, turning to look Mac in the eyes.

“I do,” Mac sniffles, fidgeting with a straw wrapper in her hands. “It’s funny. I spent all night wishing he would reach out and now I don’t want to go inside and see him. Or talk to him.”

Rob sits quietly with her, allowing her the space to feel her grief as it permeates the silence between them. 

“Kim said they couldn’t find anything wrong,” Mac says after a few moments, unable to tolerate the intensity of her unspoken sadness any longer. “She thought that maybe I was pregnant, but my HCG was negative and nothing showed up on the imaging. Which is fine, I don’t think I could take care of a kid right now.”

“I agree, one kid is enough,” Rob observes, curling into a ball, his gangly limbs shielding himself from the straw wrapper that hits him in the face. 

“Hmmph! Give not into anger, for that is the path to the dark side! Much fear I sense in you, young Skywalker.” He exclaims in his best Yoda impression. “But no really, Maccy. You’ve gotta be having some big feelings, you have health stuff going on, and you need some support. Have you tried to explain how you feel to him with your ‘I messages’?”

Mac huffs a laugh, wishing it was that easy. “You think I haven’t? Nursing school Jedi Mind tricks don't work.”

“Have faith in the force, padawan,” Rob says dreamily, switching to his rather good Obi Wan Kenobi impression.

“Listen. I did that when I went full motivational interviewing interrogation mode on him after he gave me COVID the first time. He said I’d picked it up from work, but then I found out about Sara, and that he got it from her and gave it to me because they were…you know.”

“I…” Rob flexes his arms, rolls his neck to the side to stretch it. “I know you’ve forgiven him, but I haven’t,” he states evenly, quietly. A sign that Mac knows he’s angry. 

Mac unintentionally twists the ring on her finger as he mentions it. “Yep, that’s…yep. Well, if anything we’ll have a chance to talk about it tonight when he wants to bang and I have to explain why we can’t. I should probably head on in and get cleaned up. Thanks for letting me crash in that empty stock room after I got discharged.”

Rob yawns and nods, leaning over the seat to give Mackenzie a tight hug. 

“No problem, facilities owed me a favor. Anything for you, anytime. You need help inside?” His brows pitch upwards, ready to spring into action. 

Mackenzie winces as she gathers her things, opening the car door, seeing it scrape on the brown grass of the curb.

“I’ll be fine,” she smiles. She’s lying to him.

Rob smiles back and turns the key in the ignition. He knows.

Mackenzie trudges to the door, goes to open the lock, but feels no resistance. She opens the door quietly, mindful of the background audio that might pick up on his stream. 

She steps over the craft foam and fabric, pins and half-finished garments as she makes her way to the kitchen table. She lets out a heavy sigh in disapproval when she sees the cookie sheet that lies directly on it littered with bagel bites, half-eaten and grown cold.

She has her work backpack almost empty when she hears the sounds of two voices moaning together, one male, the other female.

A wave of nausea surges through her, her limbs going numb.

No. That can’t be it. He’s not cheating on her with Jasmine in their bed. Mac is just being crazy again. He’s probably just watching porn. Yeah…Ari’s just taking a break from streaming Minecraft speedruns to jerk it, it’s not the first time he’s done it.

Her guts ache, a ripple of deep knowing washing over her so strongly it almost knocks her over. It helps her remember Jasmine’s car is still in the driveway, helps her see the line of discarded clothing in the hall... 

“Mmm, Ari…you fuck my pussy so good, ” the female voice echoes from the bedroom door.

Mackenzie has to be hearing things. 

Yes, it’s just an intrusive thought, she’s more than likely going crazy and hearing things others can’t hear. It would make sense- she’s sleep deprived, not feeling well, and she’s in pain. She’s just losing it, she didn’t actually hear anything, she’s imagining things.

That is, until she hears it again, accompanied by a rapid cacophony of combined moans and wet flesh slapping together.

“Yes, Ari…yes just like that…I’m gonna fucking cum on your dick daddy, ooohhhh…Ariiiiiii… ”

“That tight little hole feels so good, Jas! Cum for me, cum for daddy… ”

The floorboards creak underneath her feet as Mac tries to stealth down the hall, giving her presence away. 

Mac takes a deep breath or five to still her pounding heart. 

“Get dressed Jas, I think Kenz is home… ”

Ari’s panicked instructions all but confirm what her intuition is telling her. It did the same when she had caught him in the act with Hayleigh, a 16 year old fan that he’d brought to their hotel room at PAX last year. Mac recalls with deep shame that Ari had almost successfully gaslit her into thinking the whole thing didn’t happen. Ari might have gotten away with it if Hayleigh’s father hadn't shown up at their door 2 months later, angry as hell and demanding $750 to cover the cost of her termination.

She walks quietly towards the hall closet, opening the door carefully, pulling her go-bag out that her therapist insisted she make. 

She wraps her tingling hand around the master bedroom door, making a mental checklist of the additional contents in her room she needs to grab, keeping her mind busy to forget the sudden urge to vomit all over the floor.

The open door reveals Ari and Jas, but not in the position she expected to find them. She takes stock of what she sees, trying to ground herself in the facts. 

Ari and Jas are sitting on the bed next to each other against the headboard, disheveled and flushed, wearing what could be interpreted as sleepwear. They’re an odd pair. Jas is a tiny thing that couldn’t be taller than five feet and some change and a hundred pounds soaking wet, Ari being a few inches over six feet tall and built like a comic book hero-well, a retired one. He had a bit of a gut and some fat under his chin that he’s self conscious of.

If she had only given Ari a brief glance, he would pass her inspection with flying colors. He’s been known to walk around the house with only gym shorts on. The sight of his broad, naked chest with the slight bit of a tum hanging over the elastic waist isn’t suspicious. 

The pillow he has on his crotch is, though. 

So is the musky, slightly fishy odor of sex lingering in the air. 

Mac notices Jas’ long black hair has been pulled into a tight, hasty ponytail. Her small, slender body is slick with what she thinks is sweat even though the shirt of Ari’s she has on is dry. Her dark eye makeup around her jade eyes is smeared in streaks down her face. 

Mac then turns her scrutinizing gaze back towards Ari. He beams at Mac with his ice blue eyes, sweeping back his bleach blonde hair to show its mousy brown roots, putting his muscular, trembling arm on display. 

“Oh…ah, hey there Kenz. Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?” He inquires with his SoCal accent (that he claims isn’t an accent), his thumb drumming on the pillow he has atop his lap.

“Yes,” Mackenzie says calmly as she desperately tries to keep her shit together, “Usually I am.” She throws extra clothes into the bag unceremoniously, turning sharply to grab her ADHD meds out of the bathroom.

“Kenz…it’s good to see you,” Jas calls politely from where she’s perched on the bed. 

Mackenzie ignores her, looking down at the bathroom trash can briefly. 

It’s clean for once, after two months of reminding Ari to take it out.

Interesting.

“Is it?” Mackenzie asks, her eyebrows raised, her voice pitching up to a squeak.

“Why would you say that babe?” Ari asks, swallowing thickly. 

Mackenzie stares at him, emotionless. 

“Look, you guys,” she starts, zipping up her pack, throwing it over her shoulders. “It’s pretty clear what was going on before I came in.”

“We…we were uh, just waking up,” Jas stammers. “Ari was about to start streaming and I was going to keep working on our cosplays,” she says playfully, twirling her ebony hair idly with her long, manicured nails.

Nails that match the welt marks forming on Ari’s shoulders. 

“Gotta rise and grind, huh?” Mac snarks, her voice catching in her throat. 

She looks at her bedside alarm- she’s lingered too long, she’s going to be more than a few minutes late if she doesn’t leave for work now.

“You know it babe! ‘The Might Way is the right way’,” Ari smirks, parroting the way he says his catchphrase from his stream. 

“I’m sure it is,” Mackenzie clips out as tears sting the corners of her eyes. She makes her way out of the bedroom, the fibers of the tan carpet crushed underneath the stomping of her feet.

“Kenz,” Ari calls out as Mac walks swiftly down the hallway, ignoring him. “Kenz!”

She grabs her keys and her work bag, ready to walk out the door when his large, calloused hand grabs around her wrist.

“Hey. What’s going on? You didn’t come home last night,” Ari asks, his voice low and soft. 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I was in the ER,” Mac snaps, wrenching her hand away from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?,” he furrows his brow in worry, reaching up to cup the side of her face with care. “Why didn’t you text or call?”

Mackenzie flinches, pulling away.

“I could ask why you didn’t do the same. You know, I had been in the ER alone for almost four hours when I saw you replied with kissy heart faces to Jas after she’d tweeted about coming over,” she counters. 

“You’re acting crazy,” he coos, brushing his thumbs that smell like somebody’s else’s genitals against her cheekbones. “It’s just an emoji, it doesn’t mean what you think.”

A strong wave of nausea rips through Mackenzie- she really is going to vomit all over her husband if she doesn’t leave now. She backs away from him and opens the front door to leave.

Mac pauses and turns around to look Ari dead in his arctic blue eyes.

“You know what? This is stupid. Ari, I heard you and Jas when I came home. I know why you didn’t check on me. You were so busy fucking Jas you didn’t even think about me, where I was. You know where I slept last night until Rob was done with his shift?” she rasps, wiping away the fat tears that drip down her cheeks. “A closet. I slept in a storage closet with a pile of musty hospital blankets while you screwed and slept in our bed! Rob had to bring me home-“

“Rob brought you home ? You’re cheating on me with him, aren’t you?” Ari recoils in disgust.

Mackenzie shakes her head, so angry with him she’s unable to think of a reply she won’t regret later. 

“I have to go to work. At least I’m getting paid to get fucked over when I’m there,” she sobs out, barely able to see the sidewalk as tears stream down her face, power-walking to her ancient Toyota Camry. 

“Wait, Kenz, please,” Ari whines, following her to the driveway as she tosses her bags unceremoniously in the car and pauses to hear him say his piece. 

“What are we doing for dinner?” He asks like he hadn’t just accused her of cheating on him.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Mackenzie curses under her breath, slamming the door, turning the ignition and peeling out of the driveway faster than her sedan was built to do.

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she sees Ari chase after her car barefoot down the street in nothing but his gym shorts, so she does both.

…until she sees her check engine and her gas light flicker on.

Downtown Seattle, Washington  

Mercy West Medical Group Primary Care Clinic

Thursday, August 24th 

10:30 AM

“Hey boss, I’m here- what happened to you?” Mackenzie’s eyes rake over the crime scene of a nurse manager.

Amanda closes her eyes tightly shut as she tips her head back, holding pressure to a nose stuffed with cotton balls that had dripped blood into her mask. 

“So…we had a walk-in for chest pain…no insurance, of course, not our patient. And so I figure I’ll just grab him, do a quick EKG, make sure he’s not dying,” she gestures with her free hand. 

“When I go to grab him and take him back…Mackenzie Elizabeth Eriksson, with the Flying Spaghetti Monster as my witness, I didn’t think the anime thing of having a nosebleed was real,” she nasally groans, changing hands to continue holding pressure. “I was today years old when I learned it was real.”

“Did you get vitals? Does he still need an EKG?” Mac inquires smoothly, positively dead inside. She prays to whoever’s listening that Amanda can’t tell.

“Yeah, orders are in, machine’s in there. He’s in room 7. His name’s Rion Ahncooneen. Ankhunin? I didn’t ask him how to say it, you get the idea. And uhh Maccy? You might wanna prepare yourself for this one. You ever seen Labyrinth?” Amanda side-eyes her, lifting the tissue to check and see if her bleeding has stopped.

“A long time ago, why?” Mac asks, all business as she writes his name and exam room on a sticky note, her gut tingling in an odd way she can’t explain.

“You…uhm. You’ll see what I mean. I didn’t think people that pretty existed in real life, but here we are,” she chuckles, tipping her head back again. “Hey, you alright?” 

Mac cringes at being called out. Of course Amanda can tell she’s upset. She can always tell.

“No, and if I start talking about it, I’m going to start crying and I won’t be able to stop,” Mac sets down her personal and her work bag on the chairs in her boss’ office, grabbing her stethoscope. 

Amanda eyes her go bag with somber recognition.

“I’m here for you, Cheesy. Anything you need. I have a copy of my house key in my desk- top right drawer. You can take the spare bedroom, I’ll wash the sheets and everything-“

Amanda must really be serious if she’s calling her Cheesy, the name Mac had received from an angry patient while they worked together at urgent care during the early days of the pandemic. Mac gives her a quick side hug in reply, avoiding her eyes, and marches down the hall, catching a generous glob of hand sanitizer foam when she reaches halfway there.

She opens the exam room door, rubbing sanitizer over hands that don’t feel like they belong to her, putting her best patient care game face on. 

“Hi, I’m Mackenzie, I’m one of the medical assistants here. I’m going to get an…an…” Mackenzie’s brain shorts out, her stuttering words robbed of her as she stares at the shirtless man in the exam room. 

Amanda calling him pretty is the understatement of the century.

The corners of his eyes tug up at her with a cocked eyebrow. He leans back on the exam table where he sits, playfully puffing out his hairless, smooth, perfect tits as if on purpose. 

Oh no. He knows he’s pretty. 

Mac exhales, annoyed at his preening. He’s one of those. Great. Just…great. 

She rakes her eyes over him critically; down to the slender, cut muscles of his abdomen and back up to the sharp, delicate features of his face covered by the blue surgical mask.

This is a man who takes great care in his appearance, unlike Ari. His skin practically glows in the fluorescent light of the exam room. His short nails are impeccably manicured with a layer of clear polish, his silver brows shaped to perfection, with a hint of kohl lining his eyes. His black lightweight woolen trousers hug his waist perfectly. She eyes the crisp white linen shirt that hangs on the door with a blazer that matches his pants- they probably cost as much as her rent. 

“Yes darling, you were saying?” he states airily in a posh British accent that sounds like silk velvet would feel, carding an elegant hand through his impossibly perfect, long silver waves. 

“EKG. Yep. What’s your name and birthday?” She requests, flipping the machine screen up to put in the information. 

“Rion Ancunìn. October,” he pauses to think about it, his head tilted to the side. “October the fourth…1983.”

Huh, a Libra. That explains the pompous airs he puts on. 

“Birthday’s coming up soon. Any plans for the big 4-0?” She inquires with empty interest. 

“You could say that,” he drawls flirtatiously. “Nothing set in stone as of yet, but I suppose a bit of hedonistic debauchery might be in order for the occasion.”

Mackenzie pauses and blinks after she takes out the leads and alcohol swabs from the machine, reflecting on the phrase ‘hedonistic debauchery’. She’d more or less grown up under a rock, she doesn’t know the first thing about what that’s supposed to be. She’s dying to know more, but isn’t a question like that inappropriate?

Mac’s impulsivity wins. “I might regret asking this, but what does ‘hedonistic debauchery’ entail?”

“It’s better experienced than described,” he purrs seductively, giving her a once over with half-lidded eyes.

Mac almost starts laughing. 

Is this guy hitting on her? Is he fucking for real?

“Sounds like it’s different than the usual board games and beer that’s popular ‘round these parts,” she chuckles politely. 

“I’m going to have you lay down for me,” Mac instructs, avoiding his gaze that follows her as she comes closer to him. She pulls out the table extension, turning her back briefly to sanitize her hands and put gloves on. 

When she turns around he’s watching her keenly, like a cat would observe a mouse. 

Like she’s his prey.

“And you’re not going to join me? Pity,” he pouts, looking at her out of the side of his keen ruby eyes as Mac chokes on her own spit from his remark. 

She tears open the alcohol wipes and he hums as she quickly swipes them across his left ribcage. Touching him feels like playing Russian roulette with an electric fence, her nervous system sending lightning rods of electricity down to her core. She fans him with the plastic card that houses the electrode tabs to dry the alcohol and he groans. HE GROANS. 

“That feels rather nice. Are you looking for a job? Because I could pay you to do that all…day…long,” he drawls, his eyes closing in bliss. She feels a hot flush creep up her chest, a bead of sweat dripping down her back. 

She quickly assembles the leads with shaky, fumbling  hands, her brow furrowed in concentration as she hovers her finger over the button to run the test.

“I need you to relax for just a moment,” she says monotonously, feeling another bead of sweat run down her back.

“Difficult to do when a pretty thing such as yourself is near, but I’ll give it a go,” he smirks roguishly underneath the blue mask that covers his face, giving her a sly wink. 

Mac feels her whole body tense and ache as she watches the lines turn green on the machine. 

She presses the button to capture and print out the report. She should set some boundaries with him. She should tell him that was inappropriate. She’s pretty sure too that there’s a policy about this kind of thing, not that she’d ever had to look it up.

So why do her guts tell her that the attention from him feels right? Why do they beg for more? 

A flood of shame washes over Mackenzie from head to toe. Her sex drive had been dead for almost a year and a half, so what is it about this stranger that’s made it come alive so inconveniently? Why is her body betraying her like this? Can’t she stay in control of herself? 

While Ari had incorrectly guessed she was cheating on him with Rob, had he been able to accurately detect that she would have feelings like this for another?

The tears she’d held back successfully return at the thought of Ari enduring what he has made her suffer, flooding her eyes and fogging up her eye protection. 

No, no, no. She’d done so good holding her shit together for the last 15 minutes she’s been here! She’s not crying in front of a patient…

A warm, strong hand reaches out to grip hers with care. She looks up to see Rion sitting up on the edge of the table, his eyebrows soft over his gorgeous sparkling eyes. 

“What’s troubling you, pet?” He coaxes, rubbing his thumb in reassuring circles over the back of her hand. 

Try as she may, a waterfall from her eyes streams down her face, soaking her mask as they run down in a steady river. 

“I’ve had a pretty bad day,” She explains vaguely, tearing the sheet off to show the on-call MD.

“Obviously. It must be something truly horrid to upset you so,” Rion chuckles, one of his hands coming up to trace a knuckle down the side of her tear-soaked face.

Mackenzie casts her eyes downward, fat tears pooling in the clear plastic of her eye protection as she nods with a sniffle. 

A knock at the door startles her, reflexively moving a footstep away from him.

“Everything okay in here?” Amanda asks nonchalantly as she lays eyes on a shirtless Rion, her mask hiding the lecherous smile Mac knows she wears underneath.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready to show it to Dr.Calloway,” Mac sniffles. 

Amanda takes the EKG tracing and pushes a pretend pair of glasses further up her face like an anime character, humming as she looks the sheet of paper over. “I think you’ll be fine sir- are you still having symptoms?”

“The healing touch of your lovely colleague has cured me,” he confirms, giving Mackenzie’s hand a squeeze. 

Another bead of sweat runs down Mackenzie’s back as she tries to pull her hand away.

He holds her firmly in his grasp.

Amanda’s eyes squint at Rion, at Mackenzie, and at their joined hands.

“I think we can get unhooked and dressed. It looks normal to me, but I’m just going to run everything by our on call doc just to make sure you’re safe to be released into the wild,” Amanda advises, closing the door behind her. “I’ll be right back.”

Rion lets go of Mackenzie and she goes right into autopilot, unhooking the leads with practiced ease. 

“I think my husband’s cheating on me again,” she blurts out, the confession spilling at the impulse of her traitorous gut.

“Oh dear. Do you have a lawyer?” he inquires softly, Mackenzie shaking her head in reply. 

“Would you like one?” He hops off the exam table, taking a card out of a smooth metal case, presenting it to her with a flourish.

“Astarion Ancunìn

Attorney at Law”

She looks it over, turning the card stock in her hands.

Astarion’s an unusual name. She imagines it got him teased or bullied as a kid, no wonder he goes by Rion. She finds it interesting the card doesn’t have any contact information on it. It looks custom-pressed, the paper has a good heft to it, and she can detect the smallest hint of fragrance through her mask. 

“I don’t know if I could afford your services,” she says dejectedly. “And I don’t know if I want to get divorced just yet. I feel like we could still work things out, I still love him,” she explains, her eye protection fogging up as she speaks.

“Oh, my sweet. Look at me,” he raises her chin up, his eyes darting back and forth to search her own despite the barrier of plastic and condensation between them. “Love, true love is not self-sustaining. It is a choice, and one must make that choice every day. It takes dedication, sacrifice, hard work…mutual effort from the parties involved. Honesty. Clear, effective communication.” 

His hand drops and he turns away from Mac, slipping the fine linen shirt on, buttoning it up with nimble fingers. 

“Speaking of being clear- I would hate to mislead you. I fear that I am not a divorce attorney. My legal specialty is rather, shall we say, unique? That being said, I dabble in a few areas that are relevant to your…situation.” He shrugs on the coat of his impeccably tailored suit. “Join me for a drink tonight? We can continue this discussion in a more…appropriate setting. Think of it as an informal consultation of sorts.”

Mackenzie fidgets with the card in her hands nervously. He looks like he has champagne tastes, and all she has in her go bag is an extra set of scrubs, underwear, handmade linen shorts and a t-shirt. “I don’t know if I have anything to wear…ah!”

She cries out in surprise as Rion’s hands shoot out towards her and pull the royal blue fabric of her scrub top taut at the sides.

“What’s your dress and shoe size?” He murmurs his question, holding her at arm’s length to analyze her frame and the shape of her curves.

“Depending on who makes it, anywhere from a 16 to a 20, shoes are always an 8.5,” she grouses, ashamed of how much weight she’s gained in the last few years.

Rion tsks in what Mac fears is disapproval at her larger body size. “A pity that women’s sizing remains inconsistent across the realms. No matter. You close at 5pm, correct?” Mackenzie confirms his assumption with a nod.

“I’ll have the appropriate attire delivered to you by then. The address of where we are to meet will be included with the garments.” He sweeps her hands up to his mouth covered by the disposable mask on his face, lingering a moment too long as he presses his lips to them.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, darling.”

Mackenzie stares dumbly into space as he exits the room and disappears, the realization of what she just agreed to crashing down upon her. 

[bladekindeyewear]

Time to read hs^2′s third non-bonus update!  I have not had a single portion of an image spoiled this time, and have no damn idea what it’s about.  Not even any asks in my inbox.  Will we have more of Ghostflusters, maybe a reason Jane didn’t know he was gone even when he supposedly received divorce papers?  A cut back to the good guys in pursuit of Dirk and crew?  Will Jade be a black-eyed zombie, or finally fucking awake like she deserves to be???

Let’s find out!

Oh god damn everything, please no.  ==>

...Oh!

Oh that’s MUCH better than it could’ve been!  We’re still in Candyverse, but cutting over to the Vriskas’ perspectives.  So that on the right would be the “mostly identical” Vriska who Rose and Kanaya raised, and the aforementioned logistics are just dealing with a dead clown body (that hopefully isn’t being refrigerated in the unseen spot Dirk was hiding from Terezi on their ship).

Kid Vriska looks pretty cool!  A fair bit Aranea-y, with that collar feeling like a nice hint of the Pagey version of her who originally earned the (Vriska) title.

(Vriska) pockets John’s phone before she can worry too much about waiting for a reply from Terezi.

Right, stolen phone... an anon in my inbox pointed out that Vriska “has a direct line out to Terezi” because of it, but I didn’t take it that seriously because I thought it wouldn’t come into play at all later.  Guess I was wrong, with the narrative taking the trouble to point it out-- especially considering that whatever she said, she EXPECTS a possible reply.

Other than some fun banter, I can’t figure out where this particular upd8 is going.

> (==>)

Oh that is a smug, self-satisfied Vriska look if I ever saw one.  (Vriska) over here is still dust under her heels, isn’t she?

VRISKA: If you want to keep Hanging Out, I mean. Which I assume you Do.

Holy shit, she’s throwing a bit of Kanaya Caps in her language.  That’s SUPER adorable.  That was probably in Candy too and I just forgot about it.

VRISKA: So, Nickname me, 8itch. And make it Cute.

Huh!  You don’t stake too much on your name, then?

> (==>)

Vrissy!  That’s surprisingly genial of you, it’s pretty damn good.

VRISSY: So now that we have that locked down, what’s First on the list of Awesome Shit we’re gonna do Together?

Oh no.  No, no Vrissy, you’re gonna be disappointed.  :(

VRISSY: I told you already, I don’t ever get up to Anything nearly as Interesting as you did. VRISKA: Till now ;;;;) VRISSY: Heh. Yeah.

...yeah, FUCK.  Vrissy is gonna get used and thrown away so fucking hard.  The slightest ounce of hero worship thrown Vriska’s way is an ounce that’s gonna get exploited to hell and back.

I suppose from here we’re going into the rebellion, aren’t we?  I hope badass eyepatch Karkat doesn’t look too silly in this art style.

> (==>)

God, this art style is so CLEAN and makes her look so ADORABLE.

--ah, okay.  We’re gonna see how the dynamic between Vrissy and human Kid-Tavros works.  Hope this won’t be too painful.  Besides, like... the kind of hilarious starting-pain that she’s asking HIM to help take care of a dead body.

VRISSY: That was Tavros. He’s on his way.

Oh man, Vriska didn’t know.  :D

> (==>)

Huh!  That’s a more thoughtful expression than I was expecting.

VRISKA: Unless he’ll rat us out to his mom???????? VRISSY: Nah. He’ll get too much of a Kick out of seeing this dead Piece of Shit, don’t Worry.

Oh man.  Tavros’ll probably just be sad or freaked out a bit, but what I wouldn’t give for our first look at him to be him dancing on this clown’s grave.

> (==>)

Vrissy hates that ostentatious prick-mobile, mostly because it is not her ostentatious prick-mobile.

Heheheh.

Hm?  “Actual spy shit”, other than hiding a body?  Did you have some bigger anti-Crocker stuff in mind, Vrissy?

> (==>)

Oh Jiminy Christmas!!!  You’re the spitting image of your parents!  And, like... perfectly visually suited to induce Vriska-macking, unwanted or otherwise.

> (==>)

TAVROS: These are normal things you expect to happen, when you are picking up your kismesis and her,,,, ah,,, new friends,

Oh right, that’s the relationship.  More that I forgot from Candy.

VRISSY: Who is VERY Cool and Sexy with her Eyepatch--

--remind me again why Vriska has an eyepatch?  Something in the Lord English fight, a stray shard of universe fabric inflicting more random meaningful damage?  *Looks it up.*  Oh huh, so THAT was the vague damage to her head she played off-- the shard literally got her eye and she refused to admit it to herself or the narrative.  I was wondering about that weird damage back when I read it, but never inferred the answer.  And did she put the eyepatch on when she landed in Candy?  *Looks that up*  Wait, no, it couldn’t have hit her eye.  From Candy:

Vriska’s face snaps up, eyes blazing. Eyes. Actual eyes, with expression, color, pupils, and everything.

[...]  There’s a bleeding gash on her head and something lodged in her chest.

Okay, fuck.   Then whence the fucking eyepatch?  *Keeps skimming Candy...*

(VRISKA): The 8attle was hitting its clim8x when I got hit in the head with... with...

(Vriska) paws at her head wound, fingers numb and vision blurry.

(VRISKA): Wh8tever the fuck it was that hit me in the head!

Hmm?

JOHN: do you wanna see a doctor for that or something? (VRISKA): No!!!!!!!! (VRISKA): I w8nt to know what the fuck is GOING ON!!!!!!!!

Hmmmm.....  *Keeeeps reading...*

Dammit, that’s all there is.  So this is an inference either Andrew intended or the other authors/artists did from the tail end of all that -- Vriska either took head damage that deprived her of sight in that eye, made it more light-sensitive/blurry, OR that eyepatch is essentially a makeshift bandage over the bleeding parts.  (Which might remain medically necessary, or she might just keep wearing for style points.)  Hmm.

I’m mostly just relieved that whoever’s helping write HS^2 didn’t fuck up.  Okay, that’s enough Candy-digging, back to the story now:

After a few beats, he propels himself off the car like a swimmer at the sound of a gun, his body plunging in a graceful arc toward his goal.

Huh?  I mean, good execution, very Jake, but... huh?  Is someone gonna get clobbered?  Vrissy?  The corpse?

> (==>)

Ooh, the corpse!  Yes!!!  Kick that corpse.

Why did the head honk?  Hopefully this stays a corpse.  (I’m surprised his strikes are as weak as the narrative’s saying; even if he’s really Tavros-natured, he’s still the son of two of the strongest, fisticuff-iest players.  Kind of a rebellion against his parents both, then?)

> (==>)

--unrelated, I just saw the Bonus blinking with Catnapped Part 2.  Guess I won’t be finished once I’ve covered this, just yet.

VRISKA: I am in no place to 8egrudge a man his cathartic ass-kicking moment, but that was a loud fucking scream. VRISSY: No kidding. My ears are STILL ringing from your 8ig attempt at breaking the sound 8arrier.

Y’all are ones to talk, I just reread the part of Candy where you two found Vriska fucking Gamzee.

> (==>)

> (==>)

Please don’t move, clown.  Stay the fuck dead, please?

> (==>)

Calm down, Tav, you’ve got this.

> (==>)

Nice suspenders.

> (==>)

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAA WHO IS THIS AGAIN IS THIS HARRY OR SOMETHING IS THIS JOHN AND ROXY’S ASSHOLE KID

--sorry I got overexcited because I clicked next and saw that hair spiral aaaa.

...I hope it isn’t a DIFFERENT kid of theirs that I somehow forgot exists or such.  That’d be embarrassing.  This guy/girl/person looks infuriatingly suave, also.

> (==>)

YOU’RE SO CUTE IN A WAY THAT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE.

--Yep, dialogue confirms it’s Harry Anderson.

Heh, he’s pulling an Early Acts John and not believing a word of it, but playing along.

There is no possible way that this stuff Vrissy is saying isn’t horeseshit, but he is not about to crack.

--just wanna point out the probably-typo before they fix it.

Ah, bringing it there.  Good luck, Harry.

> (==>)

Oh, that was fast.

> (==>)

...That’s what you get for relying on Harry.

> (==>)

VRISKA: We can just dump it in the inciner8or. That’s pro8a8ly what his plan was to 8egin with. VRISSY: The what???????? VRISKA: The inciner8or. Like, for 8odies?? VRISSY: At SCHOOL???????? VRISKA: Yes? TAVROS: It is somewhat pleasant to be reminded,,, in my darker moments,,,, that the grass is not really ever greener on Alternia,

No comment, this is just pretty hilarious.

I still keep revisiting how easily Vrissy gave up her given name, here.  As if she feels like her real name ought to be associated with the hero instead of her, in a kind of... lowkey low self-esteem way.

VRISSY: I should have known he was fucking with us. VRISSY: GOD he is such a Stupid 8astard.

--Well, they know each other well enough.

Hm.  Does Vriska think they can just kill any human kids they run into?

> (==>)

...GOSH, Vrissy is stupid adorable.  And like, shockingly chill, in general.

> (==>)

Huh.  Vrissy, are you chickening out on an adventure because you’re afraid you’ll get caught?  ...well, good for you, honestly!  Not that I think it’ll last.

...yup, there she goes after ‘em.

> (==>)

I think you’re still going to fuck up, Vriska.

> (==>)

None of them know where they are going, but Vriska is leading the way, hunched and purposeful

I guess none of this is surprising, really.

Is Jane going to, like... hear about the corpse found in a human school’s basement and blame the rebellion some more somehow?  Not that it matters, I guess.

There is something incredibly reassuring, Tavros thinks, about someone who has absolute outward confidence in themselves.

(There’d better not be any relationship conflict involving Vriska upcoming in the future.  BETTER not.)

> (==>)

Gamzee managing to fuck everything up even when he’s dead.

> (==>)

VRISKA: No, he’s right, I was going to count to eight.

Hah.

> (==>)

Are they gonna end up dumping him at Harry’s feet?

Nice way to force him out of school and into the rebellion, that.

> (==>)

VRISSY: Keep looking for Harry Anderson. He’s In The Shit with us now, whether he likes it or not.

Guess so!  Fair enough.

> (==>)

oh no

(I also understand why I haven’t gotten any asks about this upd8 yet.  This is mostly just character (re-)introductions and hijinks.  Totally up for some Harry, Vriska, Vrissy and Tavros adventures now that I can actually SEE them, it really adds a lot.)

> (==>)

And there it goes.  Slide into Harry’s classroom on the waterslick maybe?

> (==>)

The human students, trained to respond to a fire drill with speed and enthusiasm for missed class time, are out in the hall in a matter of seconds.

Oh, the worst possible outcome.  :D

> (==>)

Shit, they’re all on camera.  Nice job, Vriska!  Welcome to Earth.

> (==>)

> (==>)

Oh my fucking GOD, this image.  Vriska is LOVING the chaos!!!  She doesn’t even care!

VRISKA: I thought this planet was gonna be a snoozefest desert devoid of 8oth agency and fun, but I am honestly having a gr8 time.

Pfff.  I should’ve known.  She just cares about being where the Action Is, as Aradia put it at the end of Meat.

> (==>)

She sees it, and she can’t breathe. Her lover, her confidante, her clown of many years, being desecrated by a bunch of treasonous monsters.

You threw him out of a ship.

Yeah, of course she draws that conclusion.  Everything and everyone is either with her or against her, after all.

> (==>)

--Wait, you didn’t even know Tavros was missing until that moment???

So did the lawyers send the divorce papers on their own, or did the authors really just forget?

> (==>)

Your John is showing SO hard, Harry.

> (==>)

Congratulations!

> (==>)

Yep!

> (==>)

HARRY ANDERSON: oh fuck

*slow clap*

I’ll cover Catnapped 2 in a bit, though circumspectly as it’s a paid bonus.  See y’all!