#anyway probably the ducks and the vampires will be after me for posing as one of them too

[lemonduckisnowawake]

I'm scared. I'm getting more notes on things than what actually shows up. Time to play the game: have I accidentally blocked someone, is it just a private blog, has someone blocked *me* by accident, or am I being haunted?

From all circumstancial evidence, I'm gonna go with the last one

[thatfanficstuff]

Impossible - 21

Pairing: Eric Northman x Reader

Warnings: Nan Flanagan

A/N: *looks at Godric suspiciously* He's up to something.

***

When you woke you found yourself in bed, laying between two vampires who were quite literally dead to the world. Despite that, you felt safe and loved. You smiled and took the opportunity to do inventory of your injuries. You seemed to be fully healed. At the very least you were a damn sight better than you’d been when you passed out. You spared a second to wonder if you would have survived had Godric not been there to give you his blood.

You turned to face the vampire in question to find him laying so he faced you. You trailed a finger down his face to trace his profile. A ghost of a smile curved his lips. It must be nearly sundown which meant you needed to get ready for the night.

You climbed over Eric to get out of the bed and pressed a kiss to his cheek on your way by. His hand brushed your leg. A glance at the clock confirmed that sunset wasn’t far off. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand where it was charging and headed into the bathroom to clean up. You scrolled through the texts from your father as you turned on the shower so it would warm up. “Shit,” you said as you read his latest text. Nan Flanagan would be here within the hour. God, you hated that bitch. Your father called her a necessary evil.

You responded to let him know that you were awake and healed. You also provided a summary of the events and who was responsible before Nan got his ear. After tossing your phone on the counter, you climbed into the shower and scrubbed yourself clean which took longer than you liked. Only when the water ran completely clear did you shut it off. When you got out, you wrapped yourself in one of the robes on the back of the door.

The bed was empty when you opened the door to go back into the bedroom. You quickly dressed in a pair of black jeans with a red top and your boots. You fixed your hair as best you could without drying it. You simply didn’t have the time. When you left the bedroom, you found Eric and Godric both waiting for you along with breakfast.

Eric was by your side in a flash. “How are feeling?”

“Good, thanks to the both of you.” You hugged him and gave him a quick kiss before releasing him to eat.

“Hello, Godric,” you greeted with a smile. He merely smiled in return. “When are we meeting with Nan?”

“How did you…your father,” Eric said. “Ten minutes.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here. Don’t tell her.”

“Are you not planning on attending?” Godric asked with a frown.

“Oh, I am, but if she realizes I’m there she’ll be on her best behavior. I’d rather catch the bitch causing trouble.”

Eric chuckled. “Should I even ask how you intend to keep her from seeing you?”

You pursed your lips. “Probably not.” You finished your breakfast and ducked back into the bedroom to grab your necklace. You slipped it on and smiled at the other two. “All right. Just don’t talk to me until I speak and we might be good to go.”

The amulet you wore had been gifted to you by a witch. It didn’t disguise you or anything, it simply made it more likely you’d be overlooked. The three of you arrived at the room where the meeting would take place. You stood along the wall in the shadows and kept your head down. Sure enough, Nan came into the room and her gaze moved right over you without pausing.

You smirked and pulled out your phone to hit record in case there was an issue later. Nan lied like it was crucial to her survival. Your father claimed that’s what made her so good at PR. He probably had a point. She didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything before she started in.

“Do you have any idea of the PR mess you’ve created? And who has to clean that shit up? Me. Not you. Me. I should drain everyone of you bastards,” she spat out. You rolled your eyes. As if she had the authority.

“Stan acted on his own. None of us had anything to do with the attack on the church,” Eric said.

“Oh, yes, because no one could have possibly predicted that Stan Baker would attack humans. Especially not his nest mates.”

“And how were we supposed to know that this time he meant it?” Isabel defended.

“Not my problem. Yours,” Nan said with a lifted brow and a glare at Godric.

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the back of Nan’s head. Why was she always such a raging bitch? Couldn’t she talk to anyone with respect? And if she knew that Stan was a threat, why didn’t she take care of it? Her logic was flawed, as per usual.

Eric was apparently done with her shit as well. “Don’t talk to him that way.”

“Don’t talk to me that way. Do you enjoy being Sheriff? Because I can take it all away.” The arrogance in her voice pissed you off more than anything. Well, that and she was threatening your mate.

His lip curled in irritation. “You don’t have the authority.”

“I’m on TV try me.” She turned her attention to Godric. “How did they capture you?”

Godric’s gaze flicked to you and back to her. “They would have caught one of us eventually. I offered myself.” Oh, and didn’t that make your heart hurt. You suspected, but to hear him admit to it was too much. Eric’s face reflected your own thoughts.

“Why?” the bitch asked in disbelief.

“Why not?” your friend responded.

“They wanted you to meet the sun and you didn’t care?”

Godric simply stared at her without responding. Finally, Nan scoffed. “You’re fired.”

“You cold bitch,” Eric responded while Isabel tried to get Godric to fight for his position. You glanced at your phone and pressed an icon before sliding it back into your pocket.

“Listen, Viking—” she started until you stepped from the shadows and interrupted.

“Stan Baker was to blame for the attack on the church,” you said and Nan’s eyes went wide as she paled ever so slightly. Her gaze moved from you to where you’d been standing and back. She was wondering how the hell she had missed you being in the room. “He was killed in the subsequent attack on Godric’s private residence. The Authority was aware of the danger Stan posed and had already ordered his execution. The order unfortunately could not be carried out prior to the attack.”

Her jaw was tight and her eyes were cold. She didn’t like you any more than you liked her. “That’s your failing, not mine. Someone needs to take the blame and as Sheriff of the area, Godric is the best candidate.”

You took a step forward and narrowed your gaze. “You are a glorified mouthpiece. You don’t get to throw someone under the bus to make your job easier. The fucking humans don’t know about all this shit anyway. You’re supposed to find the truth, not make it up as you go along. You don’t get to decide if people live or die. You don’t get to threaten to take away someone’s territory for defending themselves or someone else. If you weren’t such a power hungry, raging bitch maybe they wouldn’t have to.”

“You don’t even work for the Authority anymore,” she said, but she sounded unsure. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re not doing your job, Nan. I literally moved from area to area to make sure everyone was doing their job. What makes you think you can get away with it if no one else can? Because there’s no one to dispute you? No way for anyone to tell the Authority what you did? And if they could why would they believe them over you, right?” You pursed your lips in thought before shaking your head. “You’re abusing your position. That pisses me off. It pisses me off even more when you do it to my friends. So, here’s how this is going to go. Godric, without admitting any culpability, resigns his position as Sheriff and will be relocating to Louisiana. Isabel will take over as Sheriff. She’s level headed and had nothing to do with any of this.”

She stood then, fists at her sides as she glared at you. Eric and Godric both stood as well, taking position behind you and to either side. “Who do you think you are? You can’t dictate to me.”

The corner of your mouth lifted into a smirk as you pulled out your phone. “You’re absolutely right. But he can.” You handed her the phone and her face twisted into confusion. When your father started to speak her eyes darted back up to meet yours. She didn’t speak, only handing you the phone when she finished. You slid it back into your pocket.

Her eyes never left you though she spoke to the room as a whole. “Stan Baker is responsible for the attack on the church which caused the subsequent bombing. Godric holds no blame for any of the events that occurred. His resignation is accepted as is his relocation to Louisiana. Isabel Beaumont shall report to the king of Texas to be sworn in as the new Sheriff.”

She walked past all of you and out of the room. Once she was gone, everyone looked to you. Godric turned you to face him and laid a hand along the side of your face. “How did you accomplish that, little one?”

“I would like to know that as well,” Isabel echoed.

Eric smirked and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “She is Y/N. That is all you need know.”

[nervously-spouting-poetry]

don’t breathe too deep (don’t think all day)

@watchwhathappensfromafar day 2 of au week! It’s a little late but I don’t care fhksfdlb Werewolf/vampire stories are my favorites, so I hope I’m doing this justice hadslkfkljas. Warning for swearing and mild body horror. Didn’t go off the shits for this one because I wanted to do something sorta fluffy with it.

Jack Kelly smelled wrong.

Or, he would’ve smelled wrong, had he had a proper smell to him, but he didn’t, which, as far as Davey was concerned, was worse than wrong.

See, Race smelled like his cigars that usually remained unlit, and Crutchie smelled like dirt more often than not. Romeo always smelled like the perfumes he was trying, Spot smelled of sweat, and yes, Jack smelled like paints, like paints and city smoke, but he didn’t have any scent that was distinctly his own, which was odd. As far as Davey knew, most humans smelled of something that he couldn’t quite explain. Something that was just... human. But Jack just didn’t. He didn’t smell like anything.

Which was weird.

To be fair, the fact that Davey noticed to begin with was also pretty weird.

He couldn’t help it. Being a werewolf in Lower Manhattan of all places was exhausting, and being a part of the newsies there only made it harder to keep it a secret. He’d caught himself growling at Racetrack once, though to be fair, the full moon had been the next night, and he’d reluctantly had to hawk headlines about infernal barking and dog attacks the next morning.

Keeping the secret was difficult-- but he had to do it. He didn’t get a choice in the matter. If word got out that one of the Jacobses was a were... he didn’t want to think about the consequences. They’d go after him, of course, but Les... Les wasn’t like him. None of his family members were, and as far as Davey was concerned, it was going to stay that way.

One werewolf was more than enough, as far as he was concerned.

With his bag slung over his shoulder and his cap slightly crooked on his head, Davey walked side by side with Jack, the scentless wonder himself, and tried his best to focus on the words Jack was saying. It wasn’t normally hard to focus, and he was fairly certain he was doing a good job at pretending to focus, nodding along in all the right places as Jack rambled on, but he was too busy thinking.

Too busy thinking until Jack cuffed him on the shoulder, that is, with a hand cold enough to make him yelp on contact.

“Ey, you’se been actin’ weird all day,” the other boy piped, earning a low, irritable little huff from Davey.

“I’m fine, Jack,” he intoned.

Another swat to the shoulder made him roll his eyes and shoot a glare in Jack’s direction.

“You’se not,” Jack insisted, “you’se been actin’ all funny ever since th’ sun went down. Scared ‘o gettin’ jumped?”

Why don’t you smell like anything?

Why am I worried about this?

What does it even matter?

Oh. That’s right. It doesn’t.

Davey made a noncommittal noise and shrugged as well as he was able. Yes, the sunset was making him antsy, but it wasn’t the darkness that was setting him off. After all, he could see just fine.

Apparently I can’t smell all that fine.

Turning his gaze to Jack with his eyes semi-narrowed, Davey offered a false smile. “Nah. I’ve got you as bait, haven’t I?”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “Why’s I th’ bait?” He asked, “you’se the one who can’t fight worth shit--”

“I’m faster.”

This time, Davey avoided the smack to his shoulder and gave a soft snort of a laugh. It wasn’t all that bad an end to a day that also, really wasn’t all that bad. The only real bummer was that he’d had to sell some paper about a freak series of attacks around Lower Manhattan, and it was really getting to some of the other boys. It was one of the few instances that Davey had really, really wished there hadn’t been a nice clear picture. An oozing, bitten wound on the side of someone’s neck really wasn’t something he’d wanted to see bright and early in the morning.

“Right, yeah,” Jack agreed, snapping him back into the present again, “’cos you’se faster and I tastes better, is that it?”

You probably don’t taste like anything.

Seeing as you don’t smell like anything.

Why was now the time he’d picked to notice Jack’s lack of scent?

Scrubbing a dirty hand across his face to mask a confused frown, Davey shrugged. “Wouldn’t know, Jack. Should I ask Katherine--”

Jack’s bag swung hard enough into Davey’s side to make the air leave his lungs in a startled, wheezing little gasp, though it quickly turned to a laugh when he caught sight of Jack’s almost offended expression.

“You know Kath an’ me ain’t--”

“Kath and I,” he corrected, automatically.

“Whatev’a. You knows we ain’t like that no more, yeah?”

He knew. He’d been the first to hear of the breakup, though, not from Jack. Instead, it had been from a pale-faced Katherine, who he didn’t see much of these days, just in passing glances. Whenever they met eyes, she was always quick to look away, though he didn’t know why.

“What,” Davey started, innocently eyeing him, “you don’t taste each other anymore?” He was already halfway ducking when he said it, and when Jack made to swing, Davey shot just far enough ahead of the other boy to cause his bag to swing into the nearest alley wall with an empty thump of fabric, just behind him.

“We nev’a did, ya ass!” Jack shouted after him, though there was no real malice in it. His voice had a laugh just beneath its surface, close enough to bubbling up through his words to make Davey’s lips twitch upward into a smile.

“How was I to know?” He shot back, turning to walk backward while grinning at Jack. “For all I know, you two are the ones going around biting people!”

He swore he saw Jack pale in that instant, though, it must’ve just been a trick of the light, the way his eyes had flickered with something close to fear before Davey blinked and it was all gone.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Dave,” Jack huffed, “watch yourself, or we’s gonna get ya next!”

With a playful shout, Jack leapt at him with his hands outstretched in false claws and his fangs--

His WHAT?

--his teeth, that was it-- bared in a snarl.

First my nose, now my eyes.

Swinging his hands up to stop Jack from crashing full into his front, Davey shook his head and gave the other boy a good shove in the chest. “Right, though I bet you’ll be doing the biting,” Davey said through a laugh.

“Ey, bett’a than that stupid-ass dog that the whole city’s been goin’ apeshit about. You’s gonna be lucky if ya’s bit by good ole reliable Jack Kelly!”

Davey swallowed. “Lucky?” He asked, trying to pull focus away from the way that Jack seemed almost eerily focused on him. “Why?”

“Oh, lot’sa reasons,” Jack explained. Striking a pose, the shorter boy shot Davey a look that could only be described as embarrassing. “Fer one, I’s handsome,” he began with a twitch of his brows.

Davey snorted. “Find a better reason.”

Jack brought a hand to his chest dramatically. “I’s crushed, David! You’se a real bastard, ya know that? I ain’t even given ya th’ best reason! That was jus’ a warm up!”

Turning on his heel, Davey shook his head, using it as an excuse to look skyward. No moon yet. None that he could see through the city smog, anyway, and it wasn’t supposed to be a full moon yet. Still... his skin was starting to itch, that animal inside him begging to be unleashed, and being in the alley with Jack was only making it plead with him in a louder, more convincing voice.

Davey shook it off. “Well, I don’t need to hear the rest--”

“I’s polite about it!”

He didn’t look up as Jack quickened his step to walk in time with him, bumping their shoulders together. “Really! I is! I’ll ask ya first an’ everythin’!”

A laugh escaped Davey at the almost offended tone snaking its way into Jack’s voice. “What, you just... come up and ask ‘hey, can I put my fangs in your neck?’” As he gave a laugh at the mental image, he heard Jack make a low, offended little noise beside him.

“Yeah-- well, not wit’ th’ fangs,” Jack corrected, “that’s a little too much, ain’t it?”

“Fangs?”

“Yeah. Feel like they’d make it ‘ard to talk.”

“Well...” Davey mused, stopping himself mid-step to look at Jack out of the corner of his eye. “Not like you’re talking all that well without them--”

“Ey!”

Again, Jack bared his teeth and lunged for Davey,and although Davey managed to catch his shoulders and stop Jack from slamming into him entirely, he felt his back connect with the alley wall.

Panting, sweat trickling down his forehead, Davey lolled his head back and gave a laugh. “What happened to asking first?” He prompted, though the joking edge to it had faltered, just for a moment, because there was something... different about Jack.

It was his eyes. Gleaming in the darkness in a way that Davey knew human eyes didn’t, and it was there in the way his lips twitched slightly and his jaw tensed, just enough to make him look like he was really considering it--

“I ain’t asked yet.” His hands didn’t move from Davey’s shoulders. It didn’t seem to matter that Davey was taller-- he’d slid far enough down the wall that they were practically at eye-level as Jack finally, finally shot him a grin. “Can I?”

He couldn’t explain his response. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to explain his response. It had been a joke at the time, though to Davey, it had seemed as though there had been an almost serious feeling hanging in the air above him. Locking eyes with Jack, Davey tipped his head back, exposing his neck completely. “Bite me, Kelly.” He breathed, though it quickly turned to a soft snicker.

It was the first time in a long time that Jack had ever gone silent in front of Davey. He wasn’t blushing, but in the darkness, it looked almost like he was trying to. His eyes were blown wide, trained, however, not on Davey but on his exposed throat. They looked almost hungry.

They’re not, Davey rationalized, because Jack isn’t actually going to bite anybody.

Adjusting how he was slumped against the wall for a split-second and looking into Jack’s eyes-- eyes that still weren’t focused on him-- Davey cocked his head. “Jack?”

That broke the spell. Jack’s hands fell from where they’d been on Davey’s shoulders, and when they were removed, it hit him just how hard Jack had been pressing against him. Hard enough that when Davey stumbled momentarily in an attempt to get back up to his full height, he felt a small twinge of discomfort across his shoulders.

Is it bruising?

Suddenly, it felt rather hard to breathe. With a hand that trembled and itched a tad, Davey loosened the collar of his shirt and watched without speaking as Jack stalked away from him.

He didn’t go far. He stopped a few feet ahead of Davey and brought his hands up to his face, and for a moment, Davey could’ve sworn that Jack was shaking.

Did... did I do something wrong?

Swallowing nervously, Davey inhaled and started after him, already trying to speak, but--

“How,” Jack began, calmy, “th’ FUCK did you know?”

The volume caught Davey off guard. His heart began to thrum heavily in his chest.

How did I...

An uncomfortable feeling settled across him as the figure of Jack heaved, still keeping his back turned to Davey in the darkness.

“H-How did I know what?” Davey stammered. It was all he could think to say. He had a feeling-- a squirming, writhing sort of feeling-- settling in his gut like a lead weight that told him he knew exactly what Jack was referring to.

But it couldn’t be right.

He stepped closer when Jack didn’t respond. “...Jackie?” He tried, the nickname earning him the noise of Jack taking a quivering, shaking breath.

“I’s tried so damn hard t’hide it,” Jack croaked, “I-- an’ you just comes into my life an’ you knows-- you-- you KNOWS! I ain’t told anyone-- I ain’t done nothin’ s’picious, I ain’t-- I goes out in th’ day like all the other boys, an’ I sells my papes an’ I don’t read too much into what’s on ‘em, I don’t-- I jokes about ‘em, fer fuck’s sake!”

Davey took another step closer to Jack, and hesitantly put his hand on the other newsie’s shoulder. “Jack. You-- slow down, what’re you so worked up about?” He asked, a desperate, pleading sort of lilt coming into his voice. “You-- you’re shaking like a leaf, you-- do you need to sit--”

And then Jack turned to face him. In the dim light of the alley, Davey could see something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Two somethings. A pair of sharp fangs curled out from behind Jack’s lips, and as Jack’s wide eyes met his own--

“I’m a vampire, Dave.”

The words came out in a rush, and once they were spoken, Davey’s ears started to ring, though not to a point where he couldn’t hear the noise of Jack choking on the air when he turned away.

“I-- I ain’t been th’ one bitin’ people, though, I’s not a-- I’s not some monster, and I don’t know-- I ain’t-- how--” Jack was starting to spiral. Davey could hear it in his voice. “--how did’ja just figure it out like that? That ain’t--”

He was cut off by Davey giving a sharp, disbelieving laugh. It was a small noise, really. More of a snort than anything, but by the time Jack turned around once more, fangs gleaming in the darkness, Davey had begun to shake with the force of his guffaws.

“Dave, this-- this ain’t a joke.” Jack sputtered, though when he opened his mouth to say more, Davey beat him to it.

“That’s why you don’t smell like anything,” he wheezed through a giggle, “and-- and that’s why you burn so easily in the sun, a-and--”

“Why I don’t smell?” Jack echoed. The look of confusion on his face was enough to send Davey over the edge.

He clutched at his stomach and stumbled back toward the alley’s brick wall, doubled over and cackling. “I-- I mean-- what’re the odds?” His voice was wobbling, though as he broke into another round of giggles, Jack made an exasperated noise.

“The odds of what? You’se really gonna lookit me an’ say vamps don’t exist? I’s got fangs, fer fuck’s sake, David!”

Davey shook his head. When he inhaled, it was shaky, and he threatened to break into a laugh with the air left in his lungs. “Jack,” he started, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, “it’s not that you’re bad at hiding it, it’s because I’m a lycanthrope.”

Jack’s confusion only seemed to grow. His brow furrowed, and although his words were a little slurred around the fangs, it was more than a little understandable. “Dave, I don’t gives a shit about yer religion, I wants to know why th’ fuck the way I smell was any clue!”

Davey lost it.

Gasping for air against laughter that bubbled up from his throat, he shook his head and put out a hand on the alley wall for balance. It wasn’t even that funny. As he wheezed and giggled almost hysterically to himself, he looked up at Jack with a wide, crooked grin. “It’s not a religion, Jackie. I’m a werewolf.”

There was a beat of silence before Jack’s eyes widened.

Davey managed to stifle his laughter as the other boy slowly, slowly began to slot the pieces together in his mind. He could practically hear the wheels in Jack’s head turning, probably squealing from years of misuse as they clicked and whirred until--

“Well, that would’a been nice to know.”

The laughter doubled in volume, now that two boys were in on it. It was nothing to laugh at-- vampirisim and lycanthropy weren’t exactly laughing matters-- but they didn’t care, because for the first time in a very, very long time, they’d let their secrets spill. It felt great.

Almost as great as when the pair scaled the fire escape to Jack’s rooftop penthouse, with the vampire in question still a little red in the face from his laughing. “So you’se-- you’se been sniffin’ me?”

“No! Just-- you notice things like that when you hang around people a lot. It’s why I figured out that you hung around Medda’s so much. Whole place smelled like you.”

As Davey hauled his way up onto the roof with help from a cold, strong grip, Jack frowned.

“Ey, I thought you said I didn’t smell.”

“Your clothes do,” Davey explained, “they smell like Medda’s.”

The night air was clear and crisp, now. It always seemed nicer up on the roof with the city far, far below them and the sky stretched out like a map above. It was one of the few times Davey could actually hear himself think. Having sensitive ears-- sensitive even for a were-- was tricky when you lived in Manhattan, where the city never seemed to quiet down, but...

Davey sighed, thoughtfully. “Never would’ve guessed the vampire thing,” he admitted, earning a shrug from Jack.

“Never would’a pinned ya as a wolf, though I guess that explains the sheddin’...”

The taller boy blushed. “I,” he stated, firmly, “do not--”

Jack jutted out his chin with a snicker. “Prove it, then.”

“How?”

That stumped him. Davey watched with an almost morbid fascination as Jack chewed on his lip with fangs he’d never noticed before.

They’re probably retractable.

Even now, his analytical mind was kicking into overdrive, putting together pieces from what he’d observed and realizing, with an odd sort of astonishment, that it had been fairly obvious. After all, he’d never seen Jack eat anything, and he was a little pale for a Manhattan newsie...

What does he even eat?

The answer was easily deduced, sure-- blood-- but where did he get it?

He didn’t bother asking Jack about it. Questions could come later, once the pair of them had figured out where they stood with the whole thing. It wasn’t as though Davey knew everything there was to know about being a werewolf. Keeping the conversation light seemed to be in his best interest, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Sitting on the roof in a spot usually occupied by Crutchie, Davey crossed his arms against the cold and waited for Jack to rebut him.

He didn’t need to wait long.

“Change,” Jack finally prompted with enough force and genuine command behind his voice that it caught Davey off guard.

His eyes widened a tad. “Here?”

“Why not? Nobody’s gonna see, an’ ‘sides, I wanna know if you’se really all as big an’ scary as wolves is s’posed to be.” There was no fear in Jack’s voice as he sat on the ledge of the roof, back toward the city and eyes expectantly on Davey, who shifted his weight under Jack’s gaze.

“I... I don’t know if that’s a good idea...” He tried, though it was met with a scoff.

“You seen my fangs, so I’d say it’s a good ole even trade. One fer one, hey?” Jack wheedled, leaning forward and baring his teeth as if to prove it.

Davey swallowed. “It’s not exactly the same. If you could turn into a bat, it’d be the same.”

“That’sa loada shit, Dave,”  Jack huffed, “I’s tried. Must be for them pureblood fuckers.” For a moment, Jack seemed to lose his train of thought, though he was quick to put his attention back on Davey. “But I wanna see! C’mon, only for a minute. It don’t hurt you, does it?”

Shrugging, Davey scuffed a foot against the roof. “A little. Just itches, mostly.”

“An’ ya don’t need a full moon?”

“That’s bullshit,” Davey admitted with a sigh.  

“Then get itchy, Jacobs!” Jack exclaimed.

Davey laughed, though it was a little strained sounding.

The roof would hold... and he’s not gonna let me off the hook for this one, is he?

A glance at Jack’s expression confirmed it. There was a childish light in his eyes, something eager and excited, like Les every Christmas when he’d wake up extra early and practically drag Davey down the stairs and into the living room. It was startlingly similar.

“...promise you won’t tell?” He finally asked.

Jack’s eyes gleamed. “Ey, ‘course I wouldn’t. You’se... you’se not th’ wolf attackin’ people though, right? You’se... you’se still you when ya change?”

Davey nodded. “I-- I’m still me,” he confirmed, already shakily getting to his feet, “th-though I usually do this alone. Could you... erm... could you turn--”

He didn’t need to finish the request. With a mock salute, Jack turned to face the city lights, leaving his back to Davey.

Right.

He actually wants me to do this.

There was something almost like excitement rising in Davey’s chest as he carefully shed his vest and cap, tucking them neatly away, though he couldn’t tell why. It wasn’t like he’d never shifted before.

“Don’t look--” He started to say.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack interrupted, “get itchy, whatev’a.”

A soft snort escaped Davey before he could stifle it.

Okay.

We’re doing this.

The animal under his skin twitched. It was disorienting, having it so close to the surface. He’d never forced a transformation before-- never had reason to-- but it couldn’t be all that hard, could it? He had to resist the urge to change most of the time, so... it would happen fast.

Right?

Okay.

He thought again, and with a nervous little breath, he let his eyes slide closed.

It all happened so much faster when he let it.

He barely had time to brace for the stinging sensation of fur prickling up across his body, and with a dull thump, he was brought to his knees under a new muscle weight his body wasn’t prepared for, and once he hit the ground--

He could feel his form changing-- claws pressing through where his fingers had been, his jaws elongating into a muzzle with a pain that was dull enough to go through silently-- and as his bones shifted and cracked into place, he struggled not to focus on the nauseating sensations of his internal organs shifting.

His breaths came quicker.

A canine tongue lolled past his sharp teeth.

His claws dug into the roof’s surface as he felt his vertebrae beginning to pop and click against each other in an elongated spine, and then with a searing, awful pain that made him give an animal little yelp--

A plumed tail thumped against the bricks.

Davey’s heart was beating a little too fast as he carefully, carefully stumbled a little ways away from Jack-- who was still standing with his back turned-- and tried to process how easily the shift had come. It hadn’t hurt like the last times-- not really-- it hadn’t--

“...Dave?”

His ears perked up at the familiar voice. His eyes-- wild and a little scared-- tracked to Jack’s shape.

Can I speak like this?

He’d never tried. He’d never had a reason to try. Inhaling, forcing himself to step closer with his claws skittering slightly on the roof, he looked down at Jack and gave a low rumble in the back of his throat. “...okay.” He breathed. It was raspy, sounding more like a bark than anything else, but it prompted Jack to spin around.

When his eyes met Jack’s, at first, he thought he saw fear there.

He couldn’t blame the other boy. He was huge. Huge and animal with teeth designed to bite and tear up prey before they could get a word in edgewise, and not to mention, his hulking shape was taking up a good amount of the rooftop. Thick fur covered him from head to toe, and although it had a bit of curl to it, it was murky looking, patchy around his shoulders and down his back.

His ears pinned back. His tail tucked between his legs.

“...Jackie?” He tried, inwardly cringing at the rough, grating tone escaping his lips.

Jack’s face lit up.

Before Davey could do so much as flinch, a pair of cold, careful hands were on the sides of his shaggy head. “Holy shit! An’ t’think all this time I thought you was a weakling,” Jack exclaimed, already grinning from ear to ear in a way that made his fangs pop out. “You’s fuckin’ huge! Jesus, is all wolves this big? Do you know?”

Already, he was creeping closer.

Davey slumped into a sitting position and tried to shrug. Moving slowly, as not to scare the other boy, Davey laid himself down in a mess of matted, brown fur and let his head rest atop his enormous, clumsy looking paws.

Jack looked like he was going to implode. Davey could practically hear the questions Jack wasn’t asking as the other boy looked him over, striding closer by the second. “I-- you’se-- wow, Dave, this-- this is somethin’,” Jack praised.

Davey’s tail wagged in response.

“And...” The vampire drawled with an almost smug smile. As he spoke, he let his hand press against Davey’s side and come downward in a gentle, petting motion. “You does shed.”

Davey didn’t remember much of the rest of the night. He remembered trying to speak and getting laughed at. He remembered the soft noises of the boys in the lodgehouse below them stirring in the night. He remembered the feeling of Jack’s cold hands tracing patterns against the fur on his side.

But what he remembered best was falling asleep, wrapped around the cold shape of Jack Kelly, and wondering if the other boy was warm.

[rainbows-fanfics]

Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 17)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

She keeps running until she finds a generous shadow cast from one of the walls. She ducks into it and hides, trembling and holding herself together while she listens to Finklestein's voice in the distance. His wheelchair buzzes closer in her direction. She squeaks when he comes into view. He's still wearing a scoff, his lips quivering from the position as if he's held it for hours. He looks around angrily but winces. The bare sunlight must be bothering him. He never really leaves the tower, so the lighting must be awfully hard for him to adjust to. And it's a good thing it is, because if he looked around any closer, he'd have found her only a foot away from him. He finally turns his wheelchair around and disappears out of view, leaving her to sit there in utter silence until the beating stops sounding in her ears. "Oh, now I'll be grounded even longer..." She groans to herself. Why did she have to run!? She could've just let him take her and save all the effort. That's where she was going to end up, anyway! She hears footsteps coming in her direction. Not just one pair, but many. She curiously looks from her spot and finds the Halloween Town band looking around while fumbling with their instruments. They scan every part of the floors and walls, and she doesn't move from her position. Eventually, John's eyes find hers in the dark, and he points in her direction while resting his other hand on his chest. "There she is, fellas!" The members follow his finger and come rushing over. She finds no need in hiding anymore as she surfaces from the dark. She keeps her head down in shame, ready for the judgement of her friends. For them to bring her back to Dr. Finklestein... "Dolly!" James exclaims. "We were lookin' for ya! Are ya' alright?" She frowns but nods her head slowly. "I am. Were you looking for me?" "Finklestein." Jimmy explains as if it was obvious. "He's been looking for you. Said something about locking you up for life once he finds you." "We just wanted ta' make sure yer' okay." James clarifies. She looks at them worriedly. "You aren't going to tell him I'm out here, are you?" The three of them shake their heads, making her sigh in relief. For a moment there, she was worried that they were going to actually blab about her whereabouts. They all come forward to lay assuring hands on her shoulder. Despite the feel of their cold, bony hands...she can't help but smile at their company. "We promise we won't tell. N' anyone who does will be hearing from us." James said. "Don't worry, Dolly." "I don't know how to thank you...really, I appreciate it." "No need. Yer' our friend, n' it's th' least we can do." James assures.

Sally tenses hearing those words, remembering the time Jack said them. It causes her to smile softly, and she brushes a strand of her hair out of the way. The four of them continue to converse as they bring her back to their usual spot in the Outskirts. She decides to catch up with them in this time - asking them about their routines and more of themselves. Getting to know them more was the least she can do as a thanks for helping her out. It turns out that the three of them are homeless, and they describe themselves as "starving artists". They survive off of what monsters tip them, usually getting quite a sum from Jack. They described to her the things the skeleton would do for them, like offering them shelter from the rain and giving them extra blankets when the nights were cold. All this talk raises her admiration for her friend, reminding her of such a wonderful person he is. She knew beforehand that he was friends with the band, but hearing how much he did for them reminded her of what he has done for her as well.

She eventually dismisses herself in fear of overstaying her welcome. She thanks them one last time before wandering around, keeping an eye out for the Doctor. She doesn't know where to go exactly. She decides to follow the path to wherever it may lead, finding a lot of other wonderful sights in the Outskirts while she's at it. There is a hidden garden full of dead trees and plants somewhere, and finds future potential hiding spots if she ever needs them again. She comes back into town and finds Jack is nowhere to be seen. The others he was with are now spread out around town, and she isn't very interested in talking with any of them. She sticks to the corners and backgrounds of the scene before sunset comes. That's when she leaves for the Outskirts again and stands a few feet from Finklestein's Tower. She debates going back. Climbing the steps and sneaking back in...but there's a strong urge pulling her away. She turns on her heel and rests her back against the wall, watching as the sun soon turns into the moon. In the next moment, she's fast asleep with her head on the wall. ------------------------------ "Cock-a-doodle-do!" She wakes to the sound of a dead rooster crowing. It comes from the direction of the Skellington Manor. She jumps up with a start before finally coming to her senses, realizing she's now on the streets instead of her bed. She looks around and sees some of the Vampires shielding themselves from the sun and scurrying into the shadows. The lake dwellers are surfacing from the water and other monsters are walking down the paths into town. She helps herself up using the wall, finding her back hurts just a tad bit. Her hair must've gotten ruffled sometime during the night because she feels her yarn in knots. Her clothes are dirty and she hadn't slept the greatest. She kept waking up, and all she can recollect are the sounds of crickets and footsteps during the night, but nothing else. She rubs her eyes for a moment, ridding the blurriness of her vision. She wonders what to do for the longest time. Then, she remembers what happened yesterday and makes a firm decision to not to return to the Doctor. But where else can she pass the time? The answer is obvious as it was morning. Sally picks herself up and wobbles over to the Graveyard. She pushes through the unlocked gates and climbs down the path. She feels quite shaky this morning - she probably slept on her legs wrong. She keeps having to use nearby graves to support her as she drags herself along. She stops just before the Witch Hazel and Deadly Nightshade, and goes to put her basket down before realizing she no longer has it. She panics and looks around frantically, wondering where it could have gone if it wasn't in her hands. "I lost it!" She exclaims to herself, placing distressed hands up to her face. "No, no, no..." In the midst of her panicking, the gates open. She has no time to hide as the footsteps grow closer and closer to her. When she finally looks up, she finds Jack coming towards her. Unlike her, he seems to be wide awake and as energetic as ever. She can tell by how quickly he skips over to her. He doesn't seem to be surprised to find her here, contrasting to her open mouth and frozen pose. She feels embarrassed as he reaches her and waves at him shyly. "Hello, Jack." "Sally! It's great I found you here. My next guess would've been the Doctor's place, and I didn't want to head there so early in the morning." He moves his hand from behind his back to present her basket. "-You left this yesterday. I tried finding you to give it back, but, well..." She takes it from him, the smile widening on her face. She wants to hug him in thanks for finding it, but has to restrain herself. "Oh, I'm so sorry I ran off like that...I just didn't want to be seen-" "Don't worry about it. I would've spent all morning looking for you. I had a feeling you were going to need it eventually." That reminds her of what she was thinking about only a few minutes ago. She dips her head in thanks before collecting some more witch hazel and deadly nightshade. Jack watches her from the side and remains quiet until she's finished. She tucks them into the basket and shyly looks away, unsure of what to say to him after everything that happened yesterday. Should she apologize for running away? Thank him again for getting her basket? Explain to him why she's here? "Are you alright?" He suddenly asks. She blinks once or twice. "Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" "You look like you've suffered a rough night. I can only assume something is wrong." She pats her hair down and adjusts the ends of her dress. So he did notice the change in her appearance...it makes her flustered knowing he pays attention to that, and she regrets not fixing her hair before coming out here. Still. It wouldn't hurt to open up to him, right? He already lied to the Doctor for her countless of times before, so this shouldn't be anything new. Taking a deep breath, she decides to spill the truth. "I just wanted to get out. So, I left." "I can see that." He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Would you believe me if I told you that's the sixth time I've ever seen that man leave the tower?" Her eyes widen. "I wouldn't." "At least he didn't catch you." His shoulders relax. "I heard a rumor he couldn't find you and gave up. I figured that's what happened." "I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble..." "Oh, not at all. I'm here because of our prior engagement. Today's when we were supposed to meet; that's why I'm here." She gasps, placing a hand to her chest in surprise and grimacing at her appearance. "-I'm so sorry! I should have dressed right, fixed my hair, certainly not cause trouble with the Doctor-" He places a hand on the side of her arm to calm her down, and she relaxes under the contact. As if it is her body's natural instinct to succumb to anything under his touch. It feels nothing like what she experienced when the Devil touched her in the same place just yesterday. She calms down instantly as she stops talking. He's wearing that smile of his that always manages to send chills down her spine, and wonderful butterflies into her stomach. He soon removes his hand and her side goes cold without it.   "No need to be sorry. I could really care less about your appearance." He pauses. "I think you look just fine." "That's rather silly to say..." She blushes. "Seeing as you're wearing a suit and all..." "I always wear this." He corrects her. "I didn't say a thing then, and I won't say a thing now." She smiles and looks at his suit, admiring it once more. She's always loved his taste in fashion, though she has yet to tell him. It's a flattering combination of a pinstriped jacket and a black getup. His clothes fit him snugly and reveal just how thin he is underneath. It's a perfect match for him that nearly fits his tall frame. She becomes interested with it and takes a step forward to get a better look, turning her head to admire the tails resting against his legs. How has she not noticed them before, from all this time being around him? "I do love your outfit. Who tailored it?" He watches her carefully before replying, "A seamstress, long ago. Back when we had one, of course." She hesitates as her hand hovers over the tails. Her eyes meet with his for a split second before she goes forward to feel its fabric. She feels hot being so close to him like this, and touching his clothes is giving her the same sensation as touching any other part of him. He isn't objecting either; he actually looks interested in what she's doing. She flushes as she slowly drops them back to their rightful place. "What's the story with your bow tie?" "This guy was my inspiration, funny enough." The skeleton taps it. "Bats are my favorite animal. And what wonderful creatures! Quiet things that love the shadows. I'm quite fond of them." She looks at his chest and holds a hand in front of her face. She may not see it herself, but she knows she's completely red by this point. An innocent look at his undershirt made her thoughts go wild, trying to picture what could be underneath that. She tries to rid these provocative thoughts while he glances the other way. "Shall we sit on the Spiral Hill?" He asks politely. She nods and grabs her basket, lifting the ends of her dress up to step over the fence. She's getting used to climbing over it now, finding it was a little of an issue. She's accustomed to its steepness and she knows how to maneuver her way along the hill nowadays. She sits by his side while he rests himself beside her, and they both take a moment to absorb their scenery. It is still very early in the morning - there's a dampness in the air that gives slight chills, but the pumpkin sun should be warming them any moment now. "I'm glad I found you here. It's good to know you're okay. I was worried about you after seeing what happened." "Really?" He nods. "I thought something bad had happened to you when the Doctor threw in the towel. If he couldn't find you, I was hoping I at least would." She feels something soft come into her heart. Like the butterflies that are in her stomach are climbing her body to flutter around in it. She sighs and smiles. It touches her to know that he was concerned about her. The Band was worried as well, but...well, Jack is different. He's everything to her. A "I'm okay," She concludes. "Thank you for worrying about me. I can handle on my own." "I'd say. Hiding from Fink earns a spot in my book. That man's always so thorough with everything he does. You must be good at hiding." "Only if it's necessary...I really didn't want to, but he just looked so...so..." "-Scary?" He finishes. She nods, causing him to chuckle. "He can be persistent. I'd know." She looks at him curiously, the thought of Finklestein's life now coming to mind. He was always so cruel that it never occurred to her how he can be friends with someone as great as the King. The Doctor once told her that she was a burden, and as guilty as that made her feel, she wasn't sorry for it. A question lingers in her mind, and she plays with her hair to grow enough confidence to ask it. "Jack, was the Doctor ever...happier, before I came along?" He looks down at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the sky. He ponders the question for a moment. "He's always said his greatest goal was to create life. I'm guessing he got tired of being alone with his work. Igor was his friend, but I think he needed more love in his death. That might be why he made you."   She tsks. "I think he just wanted a slave. And he didn't get what he wanted, either way." The skeleton looks like he wants to disagree with her, but doesn't. He rubs the back of his skull and passes her a look. "I guess he didn't...I suppose that's what he deserves for treating you like this, after all." "It serves him right." She concludes with a firm nod. The smile returns to his face as he shakes his skull to the side gently. The pumpkin sun is getting ripe in the sky. Afternoon is approaching. Sally wants to take advantage of this time. He's the one who suggested being together like this again, so she isn't going to bore him with sitting here and staying quiet. He's always so informative - maybe she can learn some more out of their session today? She'd love to ask about Halloween, but ever since the topic of the Doctor came along, she can't get her mind off of it. She unknowingly plays with her hair again as she pries once more. "Was he ever nice, before I came along..?" "Oh, Sally, he's always been a good man. Some of the things he said were unpleasant, but he's honest about everything. That's usually what comes with being around for so long; you call it as you see it. People were distant with him, but I always found his intelligence to be inspiring." "Inspiring?" "Believe it or not, I used to hang around his lab often when I was younger. It made me want to do science. I couldn't get anywhere with it, being the Pumpkin King and all, so it's just a hobby of mine nowadays. But the Doctor was who inspired me to try it out in the first place." She listens to the story, trying to picture a younger Jack. Was he shorter? Thinner? It was hard imagining him as a child or anything but an adult. He notices her silence and picks up his story, getting her attention again as he motions around with his bony hand. "The Doctor is a smart man. He's just grumpy after being around for so long. The dead kind of get tired of being dead." She frowns and brings her knees closer to her chest. "He can be nicer to me if he tried..." "I don't mean to be the devil's advocate here, but try and put yourself in his shoes. If you created someone you loved, but they didn't feel the same and poisoned you all the time, I think you'd be a little disgruntled yourself." "I hadn't even thought about that." She presses her finger against her chin. He waits for a moment or two until she shakes her head again. "-I still don't want to go back, though." He laughs. "You really are something, aren't you?" Her cheeks burn while the thudding in her chest beats intensely. She feels tingly with these emotions again...she attempts to distract herself from these feelings with another question. With all of this information he's giving her, she can only assume he and Finklestein have known each other for a long time. And if that's the case, what kind of relationship did they have? The Doctor looks at him highly, but the two act like they've known each other their whole death. There must be something about them that she doesn't know. "Were you two close friends?" She asks. "He's more of an old idol of mine. We've spent a lot of years watching the town grow. We used to partner in experiments, but I haven't done those in awhile. It's hard to keep in touch when he's all the way out of town." "But you stay in touch with me." She points out. "You even invited me to meet you here again." "That I did, Sally." He admits. "That I did." She gently lifts her legs down and plays with her hands. "It's nice to know a little more about him...he doesn't open up to me. Back when I wanted to know, of course." "Do you two talk a lot?" "No. I'm too busy doing what he wants, and even then he tells me not to interrupt him with his work. I'm not interested in what he has to say, anyway. I'd rather talk to you." She looks at the skeleton with a hopeful smile. He returns it, and she finds he's getting more adorable every time she compliments him. She can see the way his shoulders move and the way his stitched smile stretches. She thinks it's very flattering, and wants to see it more. To push her shy boundaries so she can see him, even for a moment, flustered - to fill her hopes in which he may reciprocate what she feels. "I enjoy talking with you. I really should visit the Doctor's more often...A chat every now and then doesn't hurt." He pauses before adding, "-You can try it with him, too, you know. Get his attention by complimenting him." She cringes. He notices her look and rolls his eye sockets. "-I still think it's ironic how the man wants to marry you, but you two know nothing about each other. What would you even do if you were married to him?" She bites her lip nervously. "I don't think he'd appreciate me seeing you, for one..." He looks troubled at her response. "I'm sure I'd have wanted to see you anyway, even if you WERE courting him...You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?" She notes, right away, the apprehension in his voice. She hasn't noticed, however, the way his posture stiffens and the worried expression spread on his skull. That he truly does believe, for a moment, that she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him if she was already committed to someone else. "Of course I would..." He sighs in relief. "That's good to know." She thinks more about his words. There is no possible way she would ever consider courting the Doctor. He treats her badly and she isn't interested in him. He's very different from Jack. She's already at terms with her feelings for him, which means she loves him and no one else. Even if he doesn't quite feel the same about her...Her eyes travel to the skeleton frowns. Does he even like her? He's giving hints of slight fondness, but the impression he gives elsewhere is different. There's still the possibility he's courting someone else - but why make a big deal of her being with Finklestein if he was? She doesn't know what to think. "Well, I don't want to take up too much of your day." He suddenly stands beside her, noticing the sun burning high in the sky. "I'm sure you have other things to do besides talking with me." I don't, she wants to say, but instead winces. "I..." She corrects herself and fakes a smile. "-I want to thank you for doing this with me, again. And telling me all of these things I don't know." "That's partially why I'm here, isn't it?" He leans down and offers a hand to her, which she takes and lets him help her to her feet. "I'm just letting you know you're welcome to be curious around me." She flattens down her dress modestly. "Yes, that's true. But I still enjoy your company. As...a friend and all." The end of his stitched mouth falls for a second, but rises the next. He nods and starts climbing down the hill, constantly checking behind him to see if she's following. He doesn't understand this sudden feeling of doubt - of course she'd follow him. Why did he get so much uncertainty after that last question? What could possibly be bothersome about the idea of Sally being committed elsewhere? "Shall I walk you back to Finklestein's?" He asks, ridding these thoughts right away. She waves it off. "Oh, no, I'll return to him later." "Are you sure?" He presses. "He seems quite upset. I could make up an excuse for you if we went now." "No, I'm fine." There it is again. That feeling of doubt - or something along those lines. The skeleton's hand clenches as he returns it to his side, and looks around in thought. The sky is now a healthy orange, but he isn't so much as concerned with the time as he is with...finding what to say. There's plenty he can talk about with her, but the matter was feeling right about it. To discuss marriage and the Doctor...and an uncomfortable combination of both... "Can we do this again?" She asks. "I'm quite enjoying it..." He looks down at her and smiles. She wants to see him again? That's...incredible! And he knows for certain that he feels the same. His talks with her are the highlights of his day! He mentally works through the calendar in his head and thinks of when would be the best. A puzzled look suddenly comes across his skull. "I'm busy the rest of this week with a little more planning." He admits, rubbing the back of his head. "But if you'd like to meet back here Tuesday, I can do that." "Tuesday." She repeats. "That's fine." He grins at her. "You don't ever seem to have any prior engagements, do you?" "I don't talk to anyone much besides you," She rubs her arm. "The Doctor just wants to keep me home, so I can sneak away any day..." He turns around and climbs down the hill to approach the gates. He goes to leave the graveyard, but stops to glance over his shoulder. She is still where she is, watching him with curious eyes. He turns around completely to face her but keeps one hand on the gate. His mind suddenly processes over what to say...he knows it should be a proper goodbye or something meaningful...why else would he hesitate for this long? He'd have already left if it was anyone else. "I'm sure the Doctor misses you." He suppresses the burning in his throat. "And he cares about you, in his own way." "He sure has a funny way of showing it," He hears her mutter to herself. He chuckles and lets his grip release for a second. "If I were him, I'd never give you a reason to leave." Before he can explain himself any further, he leaves through the gates. She eyes his direction in complete awe. There is nothing but silence after his presence is gone. She shuts her jaw and looks around in thought, getting filled with many emotions all at once. She starts to feel tingly again and shifts her weight to her other foot. He is right. If Jack was the one she was supposed to be engaged to...she'd be euphoric! There is no doubt he'd treat her better than the Doctor ever could. He'd probably tell her sweet and gentle things. How much he loves her and how important she is to him...and he'd probably sleep with her and wake her up with kisses on her cheek. And then he'd make breakfast for her so she wouldn't ever have to leave the bed. She blushes at these thoughts and holds a hand to her lips. She can only dream...        

[seasonofthegeek]

Just for Tonight: A Fairy and Her Vampire

I’ve wanted to write background stuff for Rose in the Just for Tonight universe for a while now so this feels like a good time to do it during Rose Appreciation Week. :)

1 Year before Just for Tonight

“What are you anyway?” 

The vampire’s voice was soft but Rose found herself so attuned to it, she was sure she could’ve heard it from any distance. “I’m a fairy.”

Juleka’s face screwed up in confusion. “A fairy? Those are real?”

“You soul-gazed me. Didn’t you see?” Rose tilted her head as she studied the other woman. She was pale but she’d always been pale, even as a child. Rose had seen that much in the glance of Juleka’s memories she’d gotten in the last few minutes when they’d touched for the first time.

Soul-gazes often occurred when soulmates first touched and each received what Rose could only think of as a summary reel of the life the other had led up to that point. She saw Juleka as a little girl running to keep up with her older brother. She’d seen Juleka grow and laugh and cry and change. She’d seen her lose both of her parents as she and her brother clung to each other. She’d felt the emptiness Juleka felt and what made her latch onto the idea of something permanent. She’d craved stability and thought she would find it with the vampires. She thought she and her brother would be accepted in and changed and finally belong. Part of that had happened at least.

She could no longer doubt Juleka was indeed her other half but her new existence did pose an issue. She was a vampire of all things and a fresh one at that. She would have no control over her urges, especially without a sire to guide her and while Marinette seemed very nice, she was obviously out of her depth. Rose couldn’t very well bring a vampire back to the Realm either. She’d be killed on the spot so that she could be reborn into something else; it’d been done before.

“I saw...” Juleka’s voice was still bordering on too quiet as if she wasn’t used to anyone listening when she spoke. “You looked different in what I saw. Pinker. And you had wings.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “That can’t be right.”

WIth a wry smile, Rose dropped her human glamor. Her rose-gold wings unfurled behind her and her skin transitioned to a decidedly pale pink that wasn’t natural to humans. “I try to blend in around here,” she shrugged. “This is my true form. Well, one of them anyway.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I can change my size when I need to and I’ve tapped into magics to change into animals before.”

“Like a shapeshifter?” The curiosity in Juleka’s question felt comfortable and inexplicably familiar and Rose felt herself relax. 

“Not exactly. It takes complex magic and doesn’t last for long. There are those who can do it easily though; I’m just not one of them.”

“Your wings are so pretty. Can I...” She visibly sank back in on herself.

“Can you touch them?” Rose prodded. “I don’t mind if you want to.”

Juleka pushed away from the headboard and crawled to the edge of the bed to get closer. There was a faint alarm bell in the back of Rose’s mind warning her to put distance between herself and the predator but there was also an overwhelming sense of certainty that her mate wouldn’t hurt her. It was an odd sensation when logically Rose knew she didn’t know Juleka from a stranger on the street but the feeling persisted nevertheless.

The vampire reached out with tentative fingers to graze them along the edge of the delicate-looking wings. “They’re firmer than I thought.”

“They’re pretty strong. They can carry me after all.” Rose flashed her a bright smile.

“You can fly?”

Rose was beginning to wonder exactly what Juleka saw during their soul-gaze. The thought struck her that Juleka’s viewing had surely been as intimate as the one Rose had been privy to, which meant she’d probably seen things more important than Rose flying and changing sizes. She watched Juleka’s face as she continued to explore the wings.

“What did you see?” Rose asked, trying to keep her tone even.

Juleka gave her a startled look. “When we...when we touched?” She swallowed hard. “Why did that happen? You called it a...” Her face screwed up in thought. “Something gaze.”

“A soul-gaze.” Rose had the itching temptation to lift her wing from the other woman’s gentle grasp but she resisted it. Her soft touch was reaching the edge of almost too stimulating. “It happens when soulmates touch, usually the first time, like with us.”

“Soulmates,” Juleka repeated as if testing the word. “You’re my...” She pursed her lips together. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” Rose felt her confidence faltering. She was sure that they were soulmates but what did that really mean? Some mates found each other and then parted. What had she expected from this interaction?”

“So you love me?”

Rose blinked in surprise. “What?”

Juleka ducked her head shyly and a curtain of brightly dyed hair swung in front of her eyes. “Nothing,” she murmured.

“What did you see?” Rose asked again. It suddenly felt very important that she know and she watched Juleka pull away again, scooting back towards the opposite end of the bed.

“I saw you and...your sister maybe? She looked like you but different.” Juleka gave her a quick glance and Rose nodded in confirmation. “She was blue.”

“Her name was Marigold.”

“You lost her. I recognized that feeling.” Juleka hugged herself. 

“She got herself mixed up with vampires and went missing.” Rose went very still and didn’t meet the other woman’s eyes. “I felt it when she died. It was excruciating. Her magic was drained and...” A golden, shimmering tear slid down her cheek and she let it continue its trek without interference. 

“Vampires aren’t good, are they?” Juleka chipped away at the fractured black polish on her thumbnail. “I think I knew that, but I wanted to believe. I needed...” A sob broke off her words and she hung her head. “And...and now Luka...” She brought her knees up and hugged them as she hid her face. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Like your sister.”

“I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “It’s possible.”

“He was...he was all I had.” Juleka began to shake as wracking sobs tore from her throat. 

Rose floundered, unsure of what she should do. She could leave and wait for her mate to be reborn. It was worth the chance. They couldn’t be together like this and Rose still had an eternity ahead of her in this form if she watched herself. She’d be patient and allow Juleka to go about what little life she could make as a vampire and once she’d expired, Rose would try to find her again in her next life. That was the way it needed to work. She knew that. The Fae weren’t to interact with vampires; they inflicted too much damage and upset the balance of things.

She could do it herself, here and now. She wouldn’t have to wait long then. She would know that at least Juleka’s soul would be starting over in a new body somewhere and when the time was right, they would meet again.

Rose gathered her courage and strength around her like a cloak and stood. She had powerful magic. Lethal magic was frowned upon but in this case, it would be forgiven. She was only doing what was right. She would make it quick and painless. Juleka didn’t want this life; she didn’t deserve it. She could be reborn as mostly a human again or maybe even one of the full Fae and everything would be as it should be.

Rose reached the side of the bed and felt the power for the deadly blow gathering in the palm of her hand when Juleka looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. And with only a second of hesitation, the vampire wrapped her arms around the fairy, carefully winding around the wings so as not to hurt them, and sobbed against her chest. Rose froze, the power to kill her dying immediately at Juleka’s touch. 

“Am I bad now?” she cried, the words cracking as they spilled from her lips. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Rose felt warmth and need and the desire to protect. She hugged Juleka to her and the other woman melted into her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Rose searched for the feeling of vampire, the feeling of danger that had been there before, but it was gone. There was only Juleka, her mate who needed comforting.

“I’m here,” she whispered as her wings curled around them both. “I’ve got you.”

Just for Tonight

Before Just for Tonight drabbles

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