#and then she'll go ham on Trent's jaundiced stupid face and Caleb and Astrid might fight over letting vamp!Jester tear his head off

[blorbologist]

Vampire Bashter is everything.

if you have time/spoons for it, I would love a follow up to the last one with Jesters first meal.

HEY! Last Valentines ask, woo - I went a slightly different direction for this one, I hope you don't mind. It started as a little tiny leadup to a first nibble, but was starting to get a touch long for a quick snippet.

Everything after is pretty blurry. Not like she has something in her eye or anything - if anything, a few blinks in everything is sharper. Acute. But blurry as in smeared, as in everything is moving fast and she can hardly keep up, as in she’s moving fast and her head’s still looking a little too far to the left. 

Oh. Oh man. She gets it now. Gets why Yasha’s eyes trail over the aftermath of a fight. Gets to feel her blood, what’s left, sloshing to lazy heartbeats. Gets is really doing work, is what she means.

Caleb’s blurry with blood - Jester skids through it when she throws herself down to help. There’s a second where she licks her lips, runs a finger through the caterpillar crawl, coaxes it onto her finger to admire, before - before it hits her this is Caleb, their Cay-leb, and he’s dead and she’s - 

She casts Revivify. Expects it to hurt. It doesn’t. 

Caleb breathes again, and his wounds give one last gurgle, and Jester gurgles something of her own and pats his head and stumbles away.

The fleshy, weeping walls of Cognouza look juicy.

--

Jester almost forgot about the whole ‘oh yeah I’m a vampire now’ thing. Honest. Really!

(They’d saved the world, and Lucien was dead, and Molly was too, and whoever was here was scared, and she wasn’t scared, she was just tired and hungry. So. Nothing to talk about! It could wait.)

The afternoon sun is drowsy, filtered through clouds like satin sheets. 

It burns.

Yasha throws a wing over. The feathers don’t sear, though her exposed skin does as she gently shuffles Jester into the shade. A shove would have done the job.

“Yasha -”

“It’s fine,” she says, when they’re both under the trees. The rest of the Nein hasten to explain the broad strokes to the Clays, celebratory return (a heroes’ welcome! And she’s missing out!) dampened just a bit. 

She isn’t, she really isn’t. So Jester huffs and - and she has to really lean up on her tippy-toes, so high she thinks she might topple, to take Yasha’s face in her hands and cast Cure Wounds. Just enough to help. 

“Now it’s fine,” she declares. Hesitates  - she can almost hover like this, with Yasha’s jaw as an achor, and feel the muscles pulling there. It’s almost normal, not like it was around the others. Because they’re both vampires, now. 

“Yasha?” 

“Hm?”

Jester bites her lip. Doesn’t think it through - her fangs are more, now, and they draw a nice little gash in red ink. She doesn’t have enough blood for that, anymore. “It - it’ll be fine, right, Yasha?”

Her brows furrow, her wings fold. “I - I mean. I can’t promise that. ‘Cause it wasn’t alright for me.” Jester winces. The honesty is nice, though, even as Yasha stammers. “But! We’ll try. Okay? We’ll try for fine.”

“Thanks, Yasha.” Jester sniffles.

She isn’t crying, even as her eyes burn, desperate for tears. 

They always tell you how vampires get blood from other people. Like how Yasha drinks from Beau, sometimes from bad guys they’re killing anyways. Not that Jester’s seen her do it, but - she’s read a few books, okay? 

No one ever talks about where the tears come from. Apparently because they’ve only got so many, after they turn.

Guess she used all of them on Molly’s body. Haha.