#scar cause I've been through stuff I guess?

[tuulikannel]

Just for fun XD same as prev, tagging anyone who wants to do it. ^^

Let's all be in a TV show!!!

> Do this quiz

> do this picrew (Based on urself + quiz answers)

> tag ppl

> profit.

Tags (/nf ofc):

@mxlilly @circus-of-horror @yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair @microsoupmouse @the-firefly-jar-system @punkrockinchair @theplushiesystem @coded-pup @florasolarsystem + ANYONE else who wants to join

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[fizzie-frog]

Look I've never been much of a shipper but Fizzarolli with Asmodeus really demolishes me I swear to God. Just the way they know each other inside and out (which, obviously, they've known each other for possibly a decade). The way Fizzarolli sleeps without his cute little jester hat on, the way he, in general, trusts Ozzie with his body and his being and just-- Agh.

And the little things too like how he finds comfort in things from Ozzie and helps him calm down (as showed above). The way Fizz can just be bare, scars out front and broken horns and know that Ozzie will continue to think he's the best fucking thing ever. How Ozzie is always so supporting and finds just the right words and brings him up when he is down.

Also I know it tends to be shadowed cause it's not discussed much, but let's remember that Fizzarolli is disabled. And I'd assume he has more issues than just being an amputee (I love fics that approach that subject but I understand why there's not many as you can go wrong with this so easily).

He was in the god damn middle of an explosion as it happened and he survived something that by all means would've killed him, by some miracle (side note: omg just the thought of him being conscious even long enough to see Blitz while burning alive, I don't doubt he'd have preferred to just black out right away). I highly doubt such a thing wouldn't give him some other sorts of physical damage too. The whole speaking and hearing thing (why he probably knows sign language), the pain stuff, so many things.

Not to even go over the mental trauma and probably years of help and sleepless nights he'd have had on a psychological level. So when I say Ozzie has been through thick and thin with him, it's probably an understatement. But he loves him and aaaaghhhh I'm just so happy for Fizz that he has someone who will be by his side no matter what, to bring him up and help him out. Not many people get that, so many turn and run the moment their partner hits even the slightest hard time.

But hey, I guess this is why it's a fictional couple.

Btw, maybe I missed it but I haven't seen anyone mention this: I don't know if I'm overthinking it - I've already seen the whole pointing out of Mammon's mirror being shaped like him, specifically his mouth, but I'd like to also go into the metaphorical senses of the mirrors. With Mammon's mirror, he's looking into Mammon's mouth, like he's eating Fizz alive. But then he turns his attention to Oz's mirror, the heart shaped mirror, and looks in it to calm down. He opens the heart shaped mirror that reads "Oz". He's looking into Ozzie's heart, and Fizzarolli is reflected in his heart.

Could totally be accidental lmao but I think it's such fkin good symbolism I-- Don't even get me started.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

om gosh just- alister getting into some trouble with some mean people but then, out of no where- a odd looking & powerful Zoroark (Hisuian) comes out to protect them! and they're badass! they got one eye damaged, their body is littered in scars and maybe a arm is missing? they been through some tough stuff but they see Allister as one of their children. and surely, allister has them on their team now? also, what would the other gym leaders think of his new pal?

"How does a kid like him get a gym leader position?"

"It should've been me, I have way better ghost types!"

"And he's always wearing that creepy mask. What's he hiding from us?"

Allister could feel his heart hammering in his chest every minute he was out in public. All he wanted to do was take a quiet walk through the Slumbering Weald and not draw too much attention to himself.

He really didn't want to be seen by anyone right now.

It's already been a bad enough day for him; the last thing he needed were cameras and phones being shoved into his face--he's gotten enough of that during today's interview.

He was asked how he felt about Victor/Gloria defeating him in the championship tournament, and he didn't have a solid answer. He only found himself getting upset over the whole thing again.

Even though Leon always told him to take his defeats in stride..it was still hard.

So he cut the interview short and ran away, making it clear he wanted to be alone without the company of bodyguards.

Why would he need them when he had Pokémon like Gengar? They're the only ones who really understood him. They never gave him weird looks for talking to the dead.

Yet he suddenly began to second-guess his decision, considering he now had no shelter from the comments of passerbys.

They doubted him all because he was the youngest of the gym leaders and wasn't as confident as the rest of them..and it wasn't right. They didn't know him like the others did.

He worked so hard to get to where he is now....not to be heckled and ridiculed for just being a kid.

Luckily, the Slumbering Weald was rather quiet at this hour-

"Use Thief!"

A flash of black and orange suddenly dashed in front of Allister, causing him to help as he stumbled forwards and collapsed to his knees, scraping them hard into the stone. The shock of the surprise attack led to his mask falling off and clattering to the ground.

Before he could reach for it, a Thievul snatched it up in its jaws, darting back to someone who was whistling for it.

He looked up, a hand over his face as he stared at the duo who attacked him: a teenaged trainer boring a smug grin, and their dark type by their side, holding his mask hostage.

And they weren't alone, as another trainer showed up with their Obstagoon, who took the mask from Thievul and wore it on its own face as mockery, laughing.

"You better give that back!" He cried out, horrified and angry. "Y-You two don't know..who you're messing with.."

"I think we already know." The Thievul's trainer sneered cruelly. "You're just a weak little kid. Did you know that you're the most unpopular gym leader in this week's poll?" They waved around their rotomphone

"..I-I don't care about popularity.."

"Pssh. That's a bloody lie if I've ever heard one." Obstagoon's trainer huffed. "Ya really showed your fans how selfish you actually are. Ya wouldn't stick around for autographs and just ran off...how do ya think Leon and the rest of 'em will feel when they hear about that?"

"Stop it..please." Allister begged, his hand grasping Gengar's dusk ball in preparation.

"I doubt they'd want someone like you representin' the-"

"VUL!!"

Out of nowhere, a blast of dark purplish energy careened into Theivul, causing it to slam into the nearest tree and flop to the ground like a ragdoll. Its trainer looked bewildered, confused as to where that shot came from.

Then a blur of white appeared and snatched the mask straight out of Obstagoon's hands, much to its shock as it looked all around...unable to see who it was.

But soon they all heard a spine-chilling howl, spinning their heads to find out that the source was you.

A white Zoroark standing in the fog.

Yet while you certainly looked like one, your hair was drastically different compared to the usual tied-back look of normal Zoroarks. Instead, it appeared as long shaggy wisps with red streaks waving all over the place and covering one of your eyes.

Not only that, but your whole body looked as though it's been through the toughest of battles: scars littered your torso, some patches of fur were entirely missing, and--to Allister's shock and sadness--you only had one arm. The other was nothing more than a stump.

Even so, you weren't backing down as you stalked towards him, the bullies, and their Pokémon, teeth gnashed in anticipation.

Thievul and Obstagoon both took up protective stances, ready to attack on their trainers' commands.

Except..

No commands were uttered for a few long moments, and they looked back to see the sheer horror plastered on each of the humans' faces.

"I-It's...a...a....IT'S A ZOMBIE!!!" Thievul's trainer shrieked, forcing their fox partner back into its ball. "So the rumors are true..y-you really CAN summon the dead!!"

"...huh..?" Allister blinked in immense confusion.

He didn't summon you..

"W-We were just kiddin'. You're great!! You're worthy of wearin' that ghost badge!!" The other stammered, recalling Obstagoon. "We won't bother ya..e-ever again...just...."

They took one look at you, and as you growled lowly, the two trainers screamed and ran away.

"WAAAAAAHHH!!!!"

"DON'T EAT OUR BRAINS!!!"

After their voices faded and Allister watched them disappear for good, he looked back up at you in wonder. No longer was he covering his face, so you could see his eyes practically sparkling.

"They were wrong." He whispered. "You're no zombie. You're...the Hisuian Zoroark I've read about."

Of course you were. He's heard about this variant from what he believed were just myths of the Hisui region that existed long before Sinnoh. From what he knew about them, and judging by your current appearance...the agony you suffered in life was also reflected in your death.

Had he not been a ghost trainer with such a unique connection to the type, he would've thought you were a zombie, too.

As your gaze pierced through his soul, he remained on the ground, feeling as though he got hit by a frozen status effect. He didn't dare to move, knowing that a Hisuian Zoroark's anger was not to be trifled with.

Perhaps you saw him as just another human to take your rage out on.

For you likely held the same grudge as all the others of your kind...

One that was bitter, eternal, and cold as the frost that took your life after you've spent all your energy and hatred in battle; your scars and lost arm were simply the products of you flinging yourself into vicious fights with humans and Pokémon alike--no self-preservation instincts to be found.

Allister had no clue what you were thinking, but as you suddenly crouched down in front of him, he flinched back, arms shielding his face in fear of what you might do.

"Zo...."

"..wh-what..?" Uncovering his face, he was stunned to see something familiar in your grasp being handed over to him:

His own mask.

Of course. He forgot you swiped it from that mean Obstagoon earlier.

Yet he didn't take it back right away, instead looking up at you and seeing nothing but warmth in your eyes. He noticed the one covered by your hair was blind, given the milky look and the deep scar that went through it.

Despite seeing how you've suffered countless hardships, likely endured an agonizing death, and came back out of pure spite and hatred for humans...

You reached deep into your cold, dead heart and rediscovered strength and kindness--both of which you used to protect this young ghost trainer when he needed it most.

You knew he wasn't like those who exiled you.

No.

He was a friend.

He reminded you of all your children back at home: the Zoruas who followed you in life, death, and the after..fearful of what they've become, but feeling safe when you were around.

You couldn't reach them anymore, yet you wanted to protect someone. Anyone.

And you found Allister.

A small sniffle and whimper snapped you out of your thoughts, noticing the tears rolling down the young boy's face. You frowned a little, looking down at the mask.

Was this not his?

"D-Don't worry, I'm....so happy, Z-Zoroark..thank you.." He whispered shakily, smiling as he took it back, putting it on to hide the rest of his tears. "I..d-don't know how you got here, but you saved me. You put those bullies in their place. Nobody takes me seriously as a ghost type gym leader..much less a trainer..but you do, don't you?"

"Ark-ark.." Nodding, your gaze went to the dusk ball clipped to his belt, and you tapped on it with a rugged claw.

At first, he flinched at the sudden motion, before realizing you just wanted to see the pokeball. "Oh, this? I-It's a dusk ball..a version of a pokeball that helps me catch Pokémon at night. Or in caves.." He showed it to you, allowing you to sniff it curiously-

Only to accidentally boop your nose against the button, causing it to open and capture you.

At first Allister panicked, dropping the dusk ball to the ground as he watched it shake several times, scared out of his mind.

A million thoughts were running through his head right now:

Was it going to break?

Were you going to be angry?

Did you want to be captured?

What if-

*click*

'Huh...?' Bewildered, he looked down to see that the accidental catch was successful. And he picked up the dusk ball, opening it and letting you back out, expecting you to be enraged.

Yet..you seemed content.

You looked surprised, sure, but you soon smiled upon seeing him and nodded your head.

Indeed, you wished to become his partner Pokémon.

"O-Okay..I guess you're coming with me from now on." Allister quietly laughed, brimming with joy on the inside. "But first you should meet Gengar. I think..you two will get along well."

"Zor...ark, ark!"

[polkadotjohnson]

Warning - this has about 19k words

So I just finished posting Inamourada and then I was like, wait, protag slashes their arm every other day to give it to him and is fine and he was making all that drama about not wanting to touch silver just because… it would burn a little? So I wrote this.

Tried to fix/address other stuff also that didn't make sense in part 1 because I wrote that in a 3 day frenzy. Don't know if I got all of it… I've been trying to post this for like a week, but everytime I try I find something new to fix, to add, to delete, and this is the last time or it will live in my Drive forever along with many, many others. If you do find something that doesn't make sense tell me so I can cry try to fix it or something thank you for your services

There's... smut? Kinda? Can't really write detailed stuff when I can't even decide protag's gender fml and I wouldn't really feel comfortable posting explicit stuff here even though my ao3 is pure filth Speaking of ao3, this would probably be rated 'M' there.

🦈 guess I'm jumping all kinds of sharks 🦈 with...

Your Best Nightmare, a sequel to Inamourada

1

"So... When are you going to bite me for real?" You don't take your eyes off the road, but can still see him squirming beside you.

Even with the small orange plant now in the backseat, he's still visibly uncomfortable in your tiny old car. He's too tall, his legs are too long, and you know he's more of a perching than sitting kind of guy. "I'm not sure what you mean. I bit you just the other night."

This time you quickly glance at him so you can scoff while looking directly at him. "It didn't even break the skin!" Although you really, really enjoyed it. You thought that would be it, that he was finally granting your wish, but it seems his words were more real than you imagined. He really was just toying with you.

Drinking his blood did heal you, but it didn't change you. And his emergency self-surgery left a nasty scar on his neck, which you were quick to clean and bandage. The piercing burned his fingers too, but he didn't even let you look at them. You tossed all your silver accessories away.

"Just... wait a little longer."

You want to ask, for what? But annoying him doesn't seem the way to get things to happen.

You glance at your watch. "An hour and a half til dawn. Wanna stop at the next town and search for a place to crash?"

"Yes." He sounds so relieved that you smile. "You are going to ditch this shoe box and find a bigger one."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've brought your limitless vampirican express card then? Because I do have my savings, but it's hardly enough to just drop it on a new car, especially when this one still does the job. Or you're suggesting we joyride?" You shrug. "Cause I'd probably be on board."

He sighs as if completely exhausted of you. "You have so much to learn."

*

You're digging through your bag, trying to find your wallet, when the clerk starts to greet you. "Good evening, what can I-" You raise your head to see what interrupted him, and Vincent is standing beside you looking at him with almost feral intensity. You still have a moment to see the man's eyes turning glazed and unfocused before he turns and takes a key, leaving it on the counter. You grab it with a gleam of fascination in your eyes. "That is so neat! I mean, it's not the Ritz but still… wow."

"Which room?"

"Uh, fourteen." He leaves quickly and you follow, wondering what's the rush. Does he need to use the bathroom?

…Does he-

Well, you don't really want to go there right now.

"Lemme open it." The moment you take a step into the room, he's on you. His hands cradling your head and his entire weight causing you to take several steps back until you're right by the bed. "Woah, take it easy, stud! I… I'm…" Your heart is hammering in your chest, because you can't even pretend that you don't want this. That you don't want him. But you never thought he'd move this fast. You just kissed a couple of days ago. And you're still not even sure if it meant anything or just a pity goodbye, since you were dying and all. "At least let me take a shower first, and…" He's a dead weight on you. "Vincent?"

"...Bed." His voice is a little more than a whisper, but not in a seductive way. More in a 'I think I'm dying again' way.

"Oh, shit. What happened?" You try to get out of his way so he won't fall on you and push him as high up on the bed as you can.

"...Tired. Let me sleep."

You eye him suspiciously. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Hm."

"Do you want some blood?" You make to grab your new (steel) dagger. No response. "Vincent?" He's fast asleep, his chest rising and lowering slowly. His face is paler than usual and his forehead is cold, despite the droplets of sweat that just started forming there. This can't be good.

Careful not to wake him up, you lift the bandage on his neck and flinch. You have no idea how you couldn't smell it before. The wound is festering, pus leaks from it freely now that it's uncovered. You quickly grab your first aid kit and try to clean it as best as you can. It continues leaking until you cover it with a fresh bandage.

It takes you six tries to light up your cigarette with how much you're trembling, and you don't even realize you've lit up a second one until you finish it and see two butts in the ashtray.

What are you going to do? This is all your fault. Titanium, steel, gold, aluminum, brass, bronze, copper, plastic, bone. Why did you have to be wearing silver piercings? Why did you have to try and do something you knew you weren't going to be able to?

Why did he have to help you? He should have just left you there. Isn't he supposed to be a monster?

You grab your blade and make a small cut next to other scars and stand next to him. "Please." Please have some. I'm sure it'll make you better." You let it drip into his parted lips just like you did that night that now seems like so long ago. The blood runs down the side of his mouth and dies in a red dot on the bed. "Fuck! What do I do?"

"...Be quiet and go to sleep…" His tongue does peek out to lick at the blood you tried to feed him.

Making sure the blinds and windows are well closed, you take off your shoes to do just that, but not before removing his first.

(You were wondering if his feet were clawed too. They aren't.)

His face is still cold to your touch, and you throw a blanket over him before you turn out the lights and lie down beside him.

*

The bed looks like a crime scene. Besides the blood you've spilled over him, you completely forgot to dress your wound, and apparently you tossed and turned all night, spreading red everywhere. You were so scared to fall asleep only to wake up with him dead by your side that the stress ironically made you so tired that you blacked out.

He's still breathing slowly. If it weren't for his flaxen complexion, you'd think everything was okay.

Your watch tells you it's 3:15 p.m., and your stomach complains about being neglected. "I doubt this place has room service," you say with a weak laugh as you get up. "Try not to die while I'm away, okay asshole?" He doesn't stir, and you open the door just a little, hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the doorknob.

After raiding the vending machines, you grab your laptop from your car, searching through your spell books, which you took the trouble to digitalize. But they're all mainly about necromancy, there's nothing about silver poisoning. The internet isn't helpful either. To the world, things like vampires and necromancers are nothing but fiction. You're lucky your grandma left you those books. Reading about the various different resurrection spells, you found there was a specific one for vampires, which is when you found out the possibility they could actually be real, and that's when your whole obsession to find and become one started. You knew the books were serious when your cat was run over and you tried a spell on him. He lived to be 28, which is highly uncommon for a cat.

And no matter how many books you read, one law was always the same: no creature can be revived twice. You still tried with your cat a second time, but nothing happened. At least you got to spend a long time together, and you were thankful for that.

But this has nothing to do with your current predicament, and you need to figure out what to do. He was fine the past few days, why did he suddenly collapse like that? Was it after he used his powers on the clerk? That had to be it. "I could have paid for the room, you didn't have to show off."

You return to the room and sit beside him, leaning against the headboard. He rustles under the covers and your heart hurts a little looking at his pained expression. "You really don't know what I should do? How do you get better?"

He takes a deep breath, but doesn't open his eyes. "...I'm trying to sleep it off."

You groan. "Dude, it's not a hangover! Your neck is fucking rotting!" 

"You're being dramatic."

"No, I'm really not! You have to know what to do! Last time you were dying you didn't say anything, so I had to figure it out on my own. Don't be like that again." He doesn't say anything to that, and you sigh. "I could try to stitch it…"

"Wouldn't work."

"Why?"

"...It just wouldn't."

With the way the wound is necrosing, he's probably right. There's something you've been meaning to ask him ever since that day but kept forgetting. "Why didn't you cut yourself with your claws?"

"I… can't hurt myself with them, only others."

"Oh. It's probably for the best though, I mean what kinda mishaps you could have in the toil- uh, I mean…" You look at your watch. "Oh, look, it's uh, 4:08 y'know, dessert time. Be right back." You're off the bed and out the door before he can even open his mouth. You think even your hair is burning. Why don't you think before you speak?

You don't really want dessert, and besides, you left your wallet behind. So you just sit on the floor beside the door with your head down, wishing a hole would magically appear and drag you to hell.

"...Come back."

"Shit! How did you know I was still here? You're not using your powers again, are you? Because I'm pretty sure that's what got you like that."

"I can see your shadow."

"Oh." Betrayed by your own shadow.

Closing the door behind you, you lie on your side so you can face him. You try to tell yourself he's looking slightly better, hoping it's not just wishful thinking. "Does it hurt?"

The smallest movement of his shoulders. "Less than being staked through the heart."

You wince. "There has to be something we can do. Someone that can help us."

For the longest time he doesn't say anything, and you think he's fallen asleep again. Then he raises a hand. "Give me a map." You immediately bring up one on your phone. He points to a name, probably a small town. Doesn't seem to be far away from where you are right now. "I know someone here."

"...You have friends?"

He chuckles silently. "Something like that. Although I doubt any of them were ever stupid enough to get silver in their bloodstream."

"Well, let's go then!" You start to get up but he holds your arm.

"Show me."

For the shortest moment you have no idea what he's talking about. Then you fish the silver pendant from under your clothes so he can see it. An owl sitting on a crescent moon. You fell in love with it instantly.

It was in a jewelry box he handed you a few hours after you were on the road. It belonged to his mother, and you wondered how his life would have turned out if she had been wearing it the night the vampire who turned him showed up.

"Can you walk?"

He pulls you with enough force that you fall back on the bed. "Wait until the sun sets."

"Oh, right. That probably would be for the best."

2

"Are they cemetery ghouls like you?"

He's reclined the seat as far as it would go, but it still looks uncomfortable. "You mean like us. Don't worry. They'll know when I'm nearby, and they'll make themselves known."

Before leaving, you offered him your arm again and he took it, drinking enough to regain some of his strength. And his wound looked... only slightly worse.

"Who-"

"Let me rest."

"Ugh, fine." It's probably for the best anyway. The radio is low, and you sing along, quiet enough that you don't think you're bothering him.

"You have a nice voice."

Your hands clutch the steering wheel tight, unsure if you heard him right. Because other than the taste of your blood, this is the first time he's ever complimented you. You look at him to make sure you didn't imagine it, but his eyes are closed, arms crossed and breathing slow. "Watch the road."

"Shit! How-"

"Listen. They can't know I'm… unwell. If they do, they might do something." He pulls up on the collar of the overcoat he put on before you left, making sure it's covering the wound.

"They might do something? What kind of friends are those?"

"I never said they were my friends."

"Alright, alright, whatever. But then… how are we going to ask them for information about silver?"

"I guess we'll just have to… work it into conversation."

"Great." You drive in silence for a while longer. But there is something you just have to ask. "So… what if I asked for one of them to bite me?"

He yawns. "You wouldn't. You want me."

It hits all at once: face burning, cold, freezing butterflies in your stomach, anger, resignation. You barely pay attention to his explanations that not everyone has the ability to turn others anyway, certainly not them. "You're so full of yourself."

"Am I wrong?"

You rather not give him the satisfaction. Instead, you go back to the song on the radio, raising the volume a little. But you have to lower it again, because you don't think you've heard him right. "What's that?"

"I said you're under my spell right now. I could make you do whatever I wanted."

"Are you… is your fever back? Are you delirious right now?"

"Hit the brakes."

Your head feels fuzzy all of a sudden, and you obey him before he even finishes speaking. It makes you speechless, like you have so much to say you don't even know where to begin. "You… you idiot! You're gonna get worse again! Why… what…"

He sits up and holds your face with both hands. "This doesn't affect me like that. But thank you for your concern." He leans towards you, gaze going from your eyes to your mouth, but you can't stand to look at him right now, instead lying your head on his chest and trying to pull him closer.

"Is it because I drank your blood? He hums in affirmation. "So? What would you have me do, then?"

"...That is your instinct? I say I can control everything you do and you get closer to me?"

"I've never had much self-preservation, what do you want me to say?" Besides, he's said so himself. Why waste energy when you're so willing?

"You should definitely never get near Sebastian." He pulls away from you and lies back down, and you resume driving after a moment.

Nothing he says or does makes much sense to you. Why did he even tell you if he wasn't going to make you do anything?

You suppose he's just a hedonist, doing what he wants, whenever he feels like it without thinking too much about it. 

…Not that you're all that different if you're being honest "We're almost there."

"Hm." You can hear a tinge of grumpiness in his voice that makes you giddy, but you try not to let it show in your face.

You want him to kiss you all the time. You want him to kiss you until your lips fall off. But to know that he might feel the same even if just a little makes you almost happier than if you had let him.

You park the car next to a sign that indicates the name of the town. "I think this is it. What do-" A sudden bump on the roof of the car interrupts you, and he sits up quickly.

"Remember, whatever you do, don't-"

"Hey, Vincent, so it's really you!" Someone's upside down face appears out his window. A woman, you can't tell much about her other than she's obviously a vampire too, the pale face and red eyes giving it away almost immediately. "Long, long time no see. What brings you back to my humble abode?"

He smiles pleasantly. "Grace. Still as much energy as the last time we saw each other, I see."

"Oh, you mean when you left me for dead and ran away with your next conquest? Yeah, good times. He's here too, by the way. Said you got tired of him even faster than you did me." She plops down to the ground, and someone opens the door on your side, pulling you out of the car before you have a chance to protest.

"What's that, are you bringing us fresh meals now?" The vampire starts to examine you, his eyes going straight to the pendant you're wearing, but Vincent pulls you away from his grip, snaking an arm around you.

"Sorry, not for you." Despite his condition, you feel safe enough now that you allow yourself to check them out. They're both so unnecessarily attractive that it makes you feel inadequate. The woman, Grace, has a doll face, black hair with a white strand that makes her look like a Hollywood starlet. You still don't know the man's name, but despite him having a more generic beauty, it is the kind that makes you think of superhero movies. "I seem to remember having taught you well how to get any prey you so desired, Paul. So eyes off what's mine."

His words shouldn't floor you like they do, you know it's mostly for show. And looking at them does make you wonder what he's doing hanging around with you when apparently those are his standards.

Then again, you are his willing food source.

Grace checks you out, much like you did with her, and turns to the man. "Have I told you Paul, how many times he told me I was perfect? I bet it was the same with you."

"Nnnope." Paul crosses his arms with a smirk, still eyeing your pendant. "We weren't much for talking, anyway." He winks and clicks his tongue, and Grace slaps his arm.

"What can I say." His voice is right in your ear, making you shiver. "The heart is fickle."

Grace moves a hand to touch you, but pulls back after looking at him. You can only imagine what kind of face he's making. "Feel free to come find us when he's done with you. Vincent's rejects club. Although if he still hasn't turned you by then, I can't guarantee how long you'll last." She frowns. "Why hasn't he turned you yet?"

"You know, I was wondering the same thing." Her words don't really affect you, probably because you're still somewhat in shock that, of all the things you could have possibly found out about him, the fact that he's apparently a player wasn't one of them. It shouldn't have surprised you, really. You did see him go from the blonde cougar to the girl in a matter of days. "I've been asking him for months now, and nothing." His arm tightens around you, but he doesn't say anything.

"Months?" Grace raises a hand to her mouth. "Have you... have you actually settled down, Vincent?" You notice Paul isn't around anymore. You also notice you have no idea where you are. There's just an empty field and a barn. The third thing you notice is that you missed his response, and you curse under your breath.

A black cat jumps on the hood of the car, and you try to go to it, but his grip around your waist stops you.

"Brought Tony." Paul rests an arm around Grace's shoulder and she holds his hand. The cat looks at you, and his eyes have a red glow to them.

"Wait. Them, I can understand." You manage to turn around a little so you can see his face. "But are you gonna tell me you've bitten a cat? Why… how… you know what, I don't even know what question to focus on…" You call to the cat, and he approaches you, rubbing his head on your hand. "You poor thing. Damn, how hungry were you?" Vincent just smiles enigmatically at you.

It's the first time in your life that you're jealous of a cat.

"Oh, cut it out, Tony." Grace playfully slaps the cat's hind, and he hisses at her, then goes back to rubbing himself on you.

"You're such a handsome boy." You try to pick him up, but Vincent shoos him away. You turn again to chide him.

"Aw, thanks."

You freeze, finger halfway to Vincent's face. That's not Paul's voice. So who…

When you look at where the cat was, the only one there is a young Asian man with a sweet smile. He's cute. And naked. "Okay, what the fuck?"

Paul hands him some clothes he'd been holding, and the guy just starts dressing up like it's nothing.

Vincent smirks. "Tony. Was it everything you've ever wanted?"

"Oh man, I love it! Okay, like, I lost my job at Wendy's because they only had day shifts, but it doesn't matter. I'm having so much fun, you have no idea. Speaking of which, let's spar, I want my sire to see how much I've improved." He's already getting onto a fighting stance.

Vincent's smile tightens. "...I'm weary from the trip, maybe later. I'll trust your word."

"Really? Aw, man. Okay, okay. Oh and by the way, I'm loving this reunion thing, but it's gonna start raining in about two minutes, so we should get inside."

Grace and Paul start walking towards the shed. "Good idea. Then maybe you can tell us why is it that you're alive, Vincent, hate of my life. Or are you a zombie vampire now?"

Oh, right. They felt him die too, just like Sebastian. 

"It was just a… misunderstanding, that's all." He starts following them, but you stop him.

"Should I park the car closer? What if-"

"Just leave it. Nobody will want that piece of junk anyway. It doesn't even start without you having to sacrifice a small child to it."

"Oh, that's a little too much, don't you think? I just have to… talk to her gently. Give her a little encouragement, that's all."

"It's okay, honey." Grace turns to look at you. "I promise you no one's gonna touch it."

You can't argue with her conviction, so you follow them. She opens the door, and just a few steps in, you can't believe your eyes. The barn looks like something out of a catalogue. It was modified into a cozy, spacious house, every room separated by different kinds of partitions and an actual walled part, which you imagine are bedrooms and bathroom. "Wow, this is incredible! I thought every vampire lived in squalor like you." You turn around, but Vincent's still outside, the first droplets of rain already starting to fall. "Uh, are you planning on showering in the rain?"

He smiles condescendingly at you. "I can't come in. Which is strange, since I've been here before."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Grace watches him with, well, with a graceful smile. "I put up all kinds of protection spells so no one would find this place, and I think your credentials have been revoked. Oops." She doesn't invite him.

He glares at you. "Come out. Now." His usually calm and tranquil voice now completely stripped of every emotion but rage. Your head starts feeling fuzzy again, like it did in the car. The desire to do what he says is bigger than anything else. As you take a step towards him, Grace holds your arm.

"Don't be mean, Vincent. You don't want your dear friend to catch a cold, do you?"

Not being able to do what he ordered makes you feel like you're being torn in half, but Grace's grip on your arm is unrelenting.

His face as he looks at her holds the same ferocity he used on the hotel clerk, and you want to tell him not to do it, but your head is too hazy. You see her eyes start to glaze as both sides release you, his in your mind and her hand on your arm.

"Vincent, stop it. You can come in." For the first time in the night, Paul's voice is serious. He pulls Grace into his arms just as Vincent all but stumbles into yours. Despite being wet from the rain, from his expression you can tell he's already sweating.

"Why did you do that? You know I have this." You show him the pendant and quickly tuck it into your clothes so it won't touch him and pull him to a nearby couch.

"Still… too risky…"

"Why did you even give it to me, then?" You desperately need a cigarette, but despite seeing an ashtray on the coffee table, you're not going to smoke inside before they tell you it's okay, and going back outside is out of the question. You look around, hoping they won't try anything, but Paul seems to be making sure Grace is okay, and you have no idea where Tony is. "Do you wanna drink some before you rest?"

"No!" He opens his eyes, and almost looks like he wants to use his powers again, so you make sure to send him back the same exact kind of glare. "Not now."

"Calm down, I get it! I'm not gonna cut myself in a house full of vampires. Not even I am that dumb. I was gonna ask if maybe they had some to spare." You try to get up, but he holds on to you with whatever strength he had left.

"Stay… stay."

"Great." You smile unamused. "As if I didn't feel like your pet enough already." There's barely any space left to sit down since he occupies the entire couch, so you push him to the side a little so you can sit down and put his head on your lap.

"Aw, that's adorable."

"Grace… you…" You feel his shoulders tense like he wants to get up, so you hold him in place.

"It was a joke, Vincent. You used to have a sense of humor." She hands you a towel, and you immediately start drying his face and scrubbing his hair. Luckily his clothes didn't really get wet, just a little damp. "And what happened to you? Why are you like this? Does it have to do with that misunderstanding you mentioned?"

"...Bit rough… for a joke." He points at you with his thumb, but you have no idea what he means. "Arm."

"What? Oh." Only now do you see the clear handprint on your arm. Grace's nails aren't long enough to be claws like his, but they left an indent too. "It's okay, it doesn't hurt or anything."

"Says the… m-maso-"

"Shhhh, go to sleep!" He can barely speak and he mocks you. You laugh nervously. "You big baby! Tomorrow you'll be brand new." You're still laughing, but you know by Grace's raised eyebrow that she has made you. "Um, any… anyway, after some… things that happened, he gets a little bit tired every now and then. We're looking into it. But I'd really prefer if you could wait for him to wake up so he'll tell you all about it, I'm not very good with explanations." You hope you were vague enough not to give anything away, because you have no idea what he's going to tell them. "Can I smoke in here?"

"Sure." You fish the pack from your pocket and she hands you the ashtray. "Some human pleasures never leave us." She lights it for you with her own lighter. "Sorry about your arm."

"It's okay, really. I'm used to doing worse."

"...So you're just feeding this parasite out of your own free will? What do you get out of it?"

"I, um… well…" You weren't lying when you said you weren't good with explanations.

"It's alright, I get it. Your face says it all. He… are you asleep, Vincent?" No response. His breathing deep and slow. "He's terrible, and it took me a long time to forgive him. Him and Paul, of course. But I get it." Her tone gets a little jaded, but not fully. "When you're young and in love, it's like they've hung the moon and the stars."

You choke a little on the smoke. "In love? With him? Me? Ah, no, no, no, I, I just follow him around because I want him to bite me, that's all! I'm not in-" She looks at your hand, which has been ruffling his hair in the gentlest manner and you hadn't even noticed, and you freeze. "I was just… his hair is gonna look ridiculous when it dries and we're gonna make fun of him. Yeah." He turns in his sleep, pressing his face against your stomach and grabbing your shirt. Your heart goes ballistic, and you wheeze a little.

"You're swooning."

"I'm… sighing. He's too heavy and my legs are falling asleep."

Grace's smile tells you she didn't buy any of it. "My mistake, then. And besides, there's no point in holding grudges when you're eternal. Supposedly. Y'know, other than the own perils we go through being the way we are."

"Do you like it? Being a vampire?" You're so glad for the opportunity to change the subject.

"I hated it at first. Couldn't go to the beach, I miss the beach. Couldn't eat my favorite meals. Couldn't see my family anymore." She raises her eyebrows at you.

"I'm sorry. But me, I'm… there's no one anymore. I don't have anyone who will miss me."

She smiles. "Not a very smart thing to say in a house full of bloodthirsty monsters."

"I've known monsters. You're not one."

It takes her a moment to continue. "Are you sure? The whole blood thing was so difficult to get used to. And learning how to stop before you kill someone. I can't tell you there haven't been casualties." Her words do nothing to change your opinion. But you do wonder if you're the only one here who's never killed anyone. Has the cat guy…? "But now, honestly, I revel in it. There's so much freedom to do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. Well, other than consecrated ground, of course. Which did make some of my life harder, since some of my spells do use holy water."

"Spells, oh, like you mentioned you did with the house? So you're a…"

"A vampire witch." Her voice is full of pride.

"Cool!" You almost ask her if she knows anything about silver, but it would probably give too much away. And you want to tell her about your own little dabbles in magic, but feel it's better not to. At least not until you're sure you can trust her. "So you could have put a hex on him!"

"Who says I didn't? Probably left him with a bad indigestion at least for a few weeks."

"How long… uh, how long have you and Paul been together?"

She lights a cigarette. "Do you mean how long since this trash dumped me for him, then kicked him out too, and I was the bigger person and decided to give him a chance? Oh, about ten years and five months, give or take."

"Ten… ten years? Holy shit, then he must have left a trail of broken hearts all over the world!" You thought this was a recent situation, but it's clear this playboy has been playing for a long time. 

"You're lucky vampires can't impregnate or get pregnant, or he would have left a trail of bastards too."

You can feel your face burning, so you look away, hoping for anything that will allow you to change the subject again. Tony saves you by sitting down beside Grace, holding a bag with a straw.

"Capri Sun?" He offers the bag, then laughs dismissively. "Nah, just kidding, it's blood."

"That's right, you! You can… you can change! Can you all change?"

"Nah, I'm special." He slurps noisily on his plasma juice.

"Tony's the only one I know that has that ability. And it's not just a cat he can turn into, you know."

"Babe, come to bed, I'm cold." Paul does look like the kind of guy who would call his partner 'babe'.

"And with that, I'm off." Grace stands up, patting Tony on the shoulder. "But not before this. Raise your legs." You do so, and she crouches in front of the couch, raises it with one hand a little while messing with something outside your field of vision. The couch shakes a little and stretches. It's a pull-out. She waves and leaves.

You stretch your legs a little, trying to get Vincent to move too, but it's like moving a rock. Tony's watching you with a smirk, which you return to him. "So, you're from the heartbreak club too?"

He laughs. "Me? Oh, no, no. Me and Paul used to work together and one day he introduced us, and I just thought it'd be pretty cool to be a vampire. So I asked and he bit me."

"You… and how long it took him?"

"Hmm I think it took a while. I had to pester him all night until he did it."

You can't believe your ears. "Night? It took you one night? You just… asked and he did it?"

"Yeah. Why?"

You feel like punching something. "No reason." Just as you're about to ask him about his ability, he stands up abruptly.

"Um… you know what, I think I'm gonna finish this in bed." He leaves quickly, not giving you a chance to get a word in. Did Vincent do something?

"Listen, mister. If you're using your powers again, I'm dragging your casanova ass back to the rain."

"Hmm…" He releases your shirt and stretches beside you.

"Are you really asleep?" No response. So you sigh and reach for the lamp on the coffee table, clicking it off.

Even in this state, the couch is still smaller than the hotel bed, so you're much closer now. Even in the faint light coming from elsewhere in the house, you swear you can see freckles on his nose and trace them with a finger, then his sinfully beautiful lips.

You're not in love. You want him, sure. For a long time now, and this desire grows with every passing day. 

But it's going to break you when he leaves you like he did with the others. Whether you got him to bite you or not, you know you won't be strong enough.

So you tell your heart to shut the hell up because you're not in love.

*

The tinted windows don't let any light pass through them, but you can tell it's morning from the birds. You yawn and stretch, and then something else makes you startlingly aware that it is, indeed, morning. Right against your hips.

Any trace of sleep has left your system. Someone threw a blanket over you two while you slept, and you push it away, too hot for it now.

"Hmm…" He pulls you towards him, and in a second, you're in full contact with him. Then he starts to move.

"He… hey…" As much as your entire body is burning for him, you don't want to let him do something like this in his sleep.

"Yes?" Oh, he's awake. So it's fine then.

"I, uh, see that you're feeling better."

He hums, hand in your hair to pull you to his lips, and it's so much better than the last time. The time you were dying. Now you have the wherewithal to give just as much as you're getting, sucking his breath into your lungs and biting his lips whenever there's a break in the kiss.

Your hand moves without your permission, popping a button, then his fly.

"Wait." He holds your wrist, and your face burns even hotter than before.

You pull your hand from him in a flash. "I'm so sorry! I-"

He kisses your chin. "Wait. Let me drink. They're well fed, they won't mind even if they wake up."

"I… the knife's in my boot." He shakes his head.

"Do you trust me?"

The rational part of your brain tells you you should say no. But your instinct says otherwise. "Yeah."

"Take it off."

"Wha…?"

"The pendant."

You do so quickly, pulling it over your head and storing it safely in your pocket. Either it's bright enough out now or your eyes have grown used to the dark, because you can make out his outline as he raises his claws to your neck, scratching it softly. You feel anything but fear, turning your head to give him more access. You can feel your skin tearing and you sigh wholeheartedly.

Then his mouth is on you, lapping and sucking languidly, as if he were giving you a hickey. Also known as a love bite. You'd laugh if you weren't so stirred up. 

Your head is in a warm, comforting haze; it feels so good to have his mouth there, where you wanted it for so long. Even if it isn't exactly how you wanted it. He takes your hand in his, guiding it, silently asking you to continue from where he interrupted you. You palm him through his pants first, and he sucks a little harder. Your hand goes inside, touching him in earnest, and he stops to sigh against your neck for a moment before continuing. Then his hands are moving, all over you as if he knew exactly how to touch you, every spot that makes you go insane. Your unoccupied hand finds his hair, and you pull a little so he'll look at you.

You can see your blood on his lips, and you bring him down to you, tasting yourself. Bitter, salty, sweet, all blending together, and when your hand speeds up, you swallow his moans too.

When you open your eyes, he's holding your knife to his arm. "Just a couple of drops, or you'll never manage to escape me."

With your breathing still normalizing, your mouth has a hard time catching up with your brain. "I really don't think I want to." You freeze, feeling like you've said too much, wanting to take it back.

"Well, you have to. It's not just your neck." To your luck, he misunderstood you. He clicks the lamp on the coffee table and you see the scratches he's left all over you. "I know you like it, but I imagine you wouldn't want to give them a show."

And while you're sure you'll be wearing on your face how you spent your morning, you really don't want to make it too obvious. So you accept his blood.

It's ironic really, how while all your wounds are closing up, his seems to be the same. "Shit. I'll go grab the first aid, I need to redress the one on your neck too."

Even though the bedrooms seem to all be in the back, you open the door just a little, feeling like a single ray of light getting in would taint their home. It's still pretty cloudy, but you wouldn't want to risk it. You take the first aid kit, a change of clothes for you both and at the last minute, his orange sapling.

When you return, he's under the covers again, and after quickly washing up and changing, you sit beside him to dress his wounds. You try to keep your composure while you clean his neck, but he can tell what you're thinking without even looking at you. "That bad?"

"We need to talk to them today. Even if we have to tell them everything."

"Go find something to eat. They won't wake up before late noon."

"Okay. Get some rest too. Oh, I was thinking." You show him the pot. "If they're okay with it, we could plant it here. It's not going to survive long staying in the car so much. Then if we… if we find some other place, we can take it there. I mean, if you want to."

He smiles, sweeter than you've ever seen. "Sure. We'll do it tonight."

You stand up to leave, but stop suddenly worried. "And Grace… are you sure she…"

"If she hasn't killed me by now, she won't."

You're still a little uneasy, but he does know her better than you. "Alright, be back soon. Here." You leave his clothes on the sofa and he nods. When you're at the door, he calls you back.

"There is something I forgot." The seriousness of his voice makes you worried all over again. "Come here." You stand beside him, but he shakes his head. "Closer."

"What? What is it?" You sit down next to him, hoping he won't tell you he just remembered silver infections only last a few days and then the afflicted dies or something like that.

But he just lays a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. "This." He smiles. "You can go now."

That's… that's not fair at all. You're out of your element. You're fighting a losing match. How can you lie to yourself when he gets you so worked up with such a simple gesture, with a chaste kiss. "You're… you're infuriating." Face on fire, you stumble on your own feet before you leave.

*

The town is small and quiet, but there's a diner that catches your attention because of the tall booths you can see from outside. It's been ages since you'd stop caring about what other people think of you, but you don't know this place, so it's better not to draw too much attention.

Half the patrons inside eye you up and down as you enter, but return to their meals after a moment. You grab a menu and choose the booth furthest in the back.

The pie is big and hot, and biting into it, you just can't help remembering this morning. His touches, his smell, his taste, his noises… 

You're so not in love with him.

Just as you're deciding what to take for dinner so you won't have to return here, someone sits across from you. A pale man with blonde hair. His eyes a light red, almost orange. Your hand instinctively goes to your neck, and you try not to have a panic attack when you realize the pendant isn't there. You took it off and put it… where? Oh no, is it back at the house? No, it's in your pocket. In the pants you changed this morning. In the trunk of your car.

"I can tell you're not from around here. What's a little thing like you doing in a town like this?"

Thing. You hate being called a thing. But you smile sweetly at him "Just visiting some friends."

"Oh yeah? Wanna make some new friends?"

"I… I don't know, they're waiting for me and I'm supposed to bring them some stuff. For lunch." You start to get up, but he grabs your hand.

"Nah, stay with me. They can wait."

You sit back down, feeling a little drowsy just like last night. But it's different, his persuasion or whatever it is doesn't seem to be nearly as strong as that controlling power Vincent has over you, or his own persuasion. While the people you've seen affected by it seemed to be in a zombie-like state, you remain pretty aware.

"Don't make a scene, no one's gonna care. They know not to mess with me. I want you. And what I want, I get."

You look around and it seems like everyone is making a point to not look in your direction. "Oh wow, that's a little fast, isn't it? We don't even know each other."

"Easy to fix. I'm Noz, and what is your name, little thing?"

You'll stick a fork in your eye before you tell this guy your name. "Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way."

"Awesome name!" From the shit-eating grin on his face, he really seems to like it. "See? Now we know each other, let's go." He stands up, pulling you along, glancing at a man sitting on the next booth. "Pay it for me, will ya?"

What is he going to do, just walk outside in the middle of the day? Will he burst into flames? You hope so. But once out, he seems just fine, and you wonder if it has to do with the weather. The clouds are so heavy you don't even know where the sun is in the sky. "Um, where are we going?"

"I live right around the corner. I'm gonna give you an experience like you've never had."

"We could take my car, I just have to get something in the-"

"No need, it's right over there." He starts pulling you away from where you parked.

You need to find a way to get to your car, but nothing comes to mind. "Um… what kind of experience are we talking about here? 'Cause let me tell ya, I've been through a lot. I could show you pictures on my camera, and-"

He stops suddenly, pushing you against the wall of the diner. "If you're so eager to know, here." He shows you his fangs, running his tongue over them.

They're minuscule compared to Vincent's.

"You're… you're a vampire? Wow! That's awesome! I… I… I've always wanted to meet one! Could you-"

Then he's all over your personal space, sniffing you. You try not to cringe. "You can cut the act, sweetheart. I can smell it all over you. Especially…" He sniffs long and hard around your neck and you close your eyes, holding in a whimper of disgust. "Here. So what's the story, morning glory?"

"I…" Thinking on your feet, you cover your face with both hands, pretending to cry. "He's holding my son hostage! And keeping me as his personal supply of food! Look!" You show him your arm, littered with scars. "I can't take it anymore, and I don't know what to do! I'm sorry I lied to you, but if he finds out I talked to another vampire, he's going to kill you. He's too powerful."

"Oh, I doubt he's got anything on me, baby. I've been like this for years. Experience counts in matters like these." Years, not decades. Okay.

"Really? Because he said he turned about two months ago. So you're probably right, you must be much more powerful than him. Maybe… no, I couldn't ask."

"I'll destroy him with one hand."

"You promise?"

"Yup."

You brace yourself for the sell. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" You wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. Now you're going to have to shower again. "Can you turn me too? I've always wanted to be like you."

"Well, I don't think you can be like me, but yeah, yeah sure. I'll turn you." You can tell from the way he speaks he doesn't really have the power to do so.

"Great! I'll take you to him." And just in case he doesn't buy it, you add in the most seductive voice you can muster: "And then we can have all kinds of experiences afterwards."

"Hmm yeah, baby. It's your lucky day, you better show your appreciation." 

As you turn to thankfully go back to your car, he slaps you, and you take a deep, deep breath before you turn back and wink at him. "C'mon, tiger." Oh shit, you hope you haven't ruined it.

"Rawr!" Ew, nope, you didn't.

He sits beside you, and while you could take him to the house, you don't know just how capable any of them are in a fight, and they're most likely still asleep. Vincent could definitely take care of him. If he weren't... unwell, as he put it. Besides, you've gone too far now to give up. You turn the key, but the car doesn't start. You try two more times. "Shit, not again. Stay here, I'll get a jumper cable in the back. Do you think someone at the diner will help me?"

"If they don't, I just have to tell them to."

Vincent would only have to look at them.

You get out of the car and close your eyes, silently praying to whatever dark deities might be around. The pendant is peeking from the pocket of your pants, almost falling into the mess that is your trunk, so you quickly grab it before it does.

"What's that you got there?" You scream in surprise at the sudden hand on your shoulder and press the pendant to it. "Ow! What the fuck?" Before he can move, you do it again, wishing you could cut him with it, but it doesn't have any sharp edges. But your knife does. "You fucking freak! You goddamn piece of-" You slash his stomach once, but he dodges it the second time and punches you in the face. You stumble backwards, the knife flying from your hand, and you watch the glinting blade with longing as he gets near.

Glinting?

The sun burns your eyes. It's just as sudden as Vincent said. 'Noz' or whatever his name is, doesn't even have time to scream and he's gone, dust and ashes already scattering in the light breeze.

You were never a big fan of the sun, but today you'd kiss it if you could.

With trembling hands, you put the pendant around your neck again, just about to reach for a cigarette when you notice everyone that was at the diner is now watching you from the sidewalk. "Uh, you guys serve steak?"

*

No one laughed at your attempted joke, but at least you got a couple of free meals out of it.

You turn on the radio but can't remember how the player works. Then you hit the brakes and throw up on the side of the road.

Did you just kill someone? Now… now what? No one seemed to make a fuss, no one called the police. Although it would be hard to convict you without evidence of an actual crime, other than the witnesses. Is that how it went with vampires? No laws, no punishment, no justice? Not that you want to go to jail for that garbage. But… it's the same the other way around, isn't it? They kill too, and no one bats (haha) an eye at it. Well, you highly doubt they're ever mentioned in any law book so that's the only way it can be.

You grab a bottle of water to wash your mouth and start the car again, the right way this time. Even though you're done with adventures for the day, you don't want to get back too soon while everyone is still asleep, so you drive around, trying to find something to do. There's a tiny movie theater, and you buy a ticket for the next session, barely paying attention to what the movie's about and sleep through almost the entire thing. When you leave, the sun's hidden again, and it's considerably darker. Almost 5 p.m., your phone tells you. Time to go back.

Your three new acquaintances are playing cards on a table, while Vincent still rests. "I thought you guys would be playing baseball or something."

Vincent sees your face and is beside you before you take two steps in. "What happened?" He takes your face in his hands, clinically examining the bruises that have already formed around your eye.

"You should see the other guy. Oh no, you can't, because he's pixie dust now. What are you guys playing anyway? Guess I should put some ice in this, huh?" You let him pull you to the couch, and Tony hands you a frozen bloodbag.

"Sorry, it's all we have."

You thank him and hold it against your eye, trying to sum up the events as best as you can while ignoring the tears flowing down your face.

"I know that guy. Well, knew." Paul winks at you. "Real douchebag. You did good." He frowns. "What kind of stupid name is 'Noz' anyway?"

Grace chimes in. "Besides, if you're worried about it, you did not kill him, he did so himself. Any vampire worth their salt wouldn't be scurrying around outside during the day, cloudy weather or not." She raises her eyebrows haughtily. "He was asking for it."

Their words do put you more at ease, but Vincent's face is dark. "I should have. I should have turned you." He shakes his head. "You wouldn't make it."

"...How do you know?"

"Because you're just like him!" Vincent's usually smooth voice now marred with despair. "Haven't I told you? He was weak, and so are you!" He gets up to stand by the window.

"But he did make it! And I think I just proved I'm strong enough, didn't I?" You want to be angry at him, but the fact he doesn't want to do it because he's worried about you allays you a little. Then something dawns on you. "You said… you said you fed him all night. Your blood, right? Which is why he made it." He nods. "So that means… if you bit me now…" You look at the bandage on his arm, then at his face.

"I told them everything."

He's the one who's too weak. If he thinks you'll need him to look after you and feed you his own blood, right now is not exactly the best time to do it. "Did you know? Even before the hotel? You knew there was something wrong, didn't you?"

"I had an inkling, when my neck wouldn't stop broiling."

You follow him to the window, hitting his chest with your fists. You imagine this whole scene must probably look like a soap opera to the others. "You idiot. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you do the thing with the clerk?" You hear Grace whispering, "Ooh, thing with the clerk?"

He wraps his arms around you, and you already know you're going to start crying again any minute now. "I didn't know. I didn't know what would happen."

"If I… if I hadn't almost killed myself, none of this would be happening. This is all my fault!"

"I heard you scream. If it hadn't been for you, we'd both be dead." He wipes your tears with his fingers. "Come on." He brings you back to the couch and hands you the frozen bloodbag. "I could give you more blood to heal this quickly, but I have the feeling you would say no."

You take the bag and press it against your face again. "You're damn right I would say no."

"You could take mine. Or any of ours, I don't think any of us would mind," Grace offers.

Vincent intervenes before you can reply. "That is out of the question. After last night, I don't know if I'm very fond of your… jokes. Best not risk it."

You elbow him. "It's okay, guys, thanks. Not my first black eye. More importantly. Do you know anything? That can help us?"

Grace shakes her head. "We told him already. The only contact any of us had with silver after turning was that I was wearing a silver ring, and it almost burned my finger off. But it healed after I took it off. I'm sorry."

"I gave him a suggestion, but…"

"Paul…" Vincent's voice is low and menacing.

Paul shrugs. "It's all I got."

"What? What is it?" No matter what it is, you have to try.

"Nothing worth trying. At least nothing I would-"

"Please!" You grab his shirt with both hands, your voice filled with desperation. "Please. I'm begging you. Anything is worth it."

"...He suggested I go to Sebastian," he says with an unamused smile. "Apparently, he's been studying all kinds of things about… us. Guess he really wants to be the expert in vampire lore."

You shake your head, not believing what you're hearing. "Then what are we still doing here? Let's go!"

He backs away from your hands, still strangely leering at you. "Do you seriously want so bad to be turned that you'd ask me to subject myself to him?"

It's like the world vanishes around you and a black hole starts forming in your chest. You can faintly hear Grace yelling at him, but can't make out her words, can't make out anything. "I'm… going for a walk. Thanks for the ice, Tony." You drop the bag on the couch and leave, ignoring everyone.

No amount of cigarettes can make you stop shaking, so you drive to a nearby convenience store and buy a fifth of whiskey, something you haven't abused in years. But you don't care. You just want to black out. You can't think. Don't think. Don't think, just drink.

*

"Ugh. Wha…?" There's a crowd of people hitting your head with tiny hammers. Over and over. You can't see them, but you can feel them there. And apparently they made you drink out of a toilet, because that's what your mouth tastes like. Why is it dark? Is it still night? You can't see anything out the windshield. But you can smell smoke and vomit. "Bleh, I need a toothbrush."

"And a bath."

You scream, searching for your knife. Vincent turns on the dome light, and you point the knife at him. "What are you doing here? Where am I?"

"Crashed against a tree. I found you last night. You've been gone for two days." Your watch confirms he's telling the truth about the date.

It also tells you it's half past noon. And judging by the heat, pretty sunny outside.

All the window covers and blinds you haven't had the need to use before are in place, and the one on your side is dangerously flapping thanks to a small opening on the window, which he probably did so you wouldn't suffocate. Or because of the smell. You close it quickly and fix the cover back in place.

"I'm grateful you still care for my life."

"Vincent…" You sigh. "Is there any water in the back?"

He shakes his head. "I looked for it to see if I could clean you up."

You look down at yourself and almost throw up again. "Oh, gross." You unceremoniously strip as carefully as you can, staying in your underwear, and ball the soiled clothes, pushing them as far in the back as you can. "Since when… you said you found me last night?"

"Earlier today just before dawn, to be exact. I'd have taken you back but we're too far away, there wouldn't have been time."

"Where are we?"

He shrugs. "Somewhat far into the woods. You swerved off the road and came rolling down the hill for a good while before this big, beautiful oak tree interrupted you."

"Does it look bad?"

"Your shoe box is done for." The above light goes out as he says it, as if signaling the fate of the car, and you remain in the dark. 

"Great." Now that you're properly awake, you notice it isn't actually that dark, you can see his shape quite well as he stares ahead.

The silence isn't uncomfortable, just irritating. Isn't he going to say anything? Does he still stand by that bullshit he spewed last… two nights ago? Are you the one who's going to have to bring it up?

"So…"

"We're going. To see Sebastian. If we don't die of sunstroke first."

You take a deep breath. "That was not why I said it and you know it."

For a few minutes, he doesn't say anything, and if you're not going to discuss it, you might as well try to fall asleep again.

"Do you love me?" Well, that plan is out the window now.

"Wha-what? You… you… you don't just ask people that!"

"Why not? I love you."

To say this is not exactly the type of situation you thought you'd be in if you ever got to hear him saying that is an understatement. Your jaw starts tingling when you try to speak, probably because you've been taking so many deep breaths, you think you're hyperventilating. After a moment, you try again. "You'll have to forgive me if I say I don't believe you."

He's still looking straight ahead, but you can see he's frowning. "Why? Because I've had other lovers? Haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, but… you seem to get tired of them pretty quickly." What did he say? The heart is fickle?

"So… how long is love supposed to last?"

You can't believe him. "Forever, Vincent. Love is supposed to last forever." He seems so childish at first, but then you remember who was it that taught him about love. And how big of a lie it was. "Listen, can we talk about this later? My throat is dry and my head is killing me." When he doesn't answer, you get a little annoyed. "Hey."

He doesn't just look at you. His eyes devour you from head to toe and he's breathing hard, panting. And you can only imagine the state you're in. Without even mentioning the smell, your hair is probably a nightmare, your makeup making you look like a mime from hell. And don't forget the black eye. But he looks at you as if you were a centerfold.

"...Can I have your shirt?" He unbuttons it and gives it to you without a word. He's so tall that it goes to your knees. His naked torso does put you in some state also, but nothing like he was. Still is, judging by what you can clearly see under his pants.

Even if he doesn't love you, his desire seems to be big enough to confuse his head. You're not sure you can sleep after such a revelation.

When you wake up, you're not in the car anymore, and you're… bouncing? "Um… hi?"

"Good evening." He's carrying you bridal style, and you can only imagine the scene. You, only in an oversized shirt and shoes in the arms of a pale, shirtless man.

"You can put me down."

"Alright. You smell, and you're heavier than you look."

You snort loud, once again in total disbelief of this person. "This is the first time I hear you joking."

"Who said I'm joking?" He does put you down, and you walk beside him, still laughing and without any idea where you are.

You look back. "What about the car?" You can still see it in the distance, not that far into the tree, just enough to have ruined the engine. You're lucky not to have a single scratch.

"I've locked it. We can go back for whatever's inside later." He takes a deep breath. "Listen. I get... irrational when it comes to Sebastian. We never got along, not even when we were kids. Which is why I've kept my distance from him. And our incompatibility only made us drift further and further apart from each other with ever year. Every decade. Before that night he showed up at my house, I hadn't seen him in well over fifteen years."

"But..."

"But... we're still going. I... I won't let him cloud my judgement like that again."

You suppose that's as close of an apology you'll get, and you're fine with it, you'd honestly didn't even think he'd say as much.

After that, you walk mostly in silence in the cold evening, and when he sees you shivering, he offers to pick you up again. Since when was he this chivalrous? But you refuse his offer, on the account of you being too heavy and all. He just laughs, and you have no idea what's going on.

*

Grace can't stop pointing from him to you. "Okay, you're gonna have to tell us this story."

You sigh. "Please. I need water. And toothpaste. And… and clothes and a bath. Please."

"Of course, I'm sorry." You let her help you out, devoid of energy to do much more than just sit in the bathtub and let it wash this entire day away. The pastel purple shirt with a Count Dracula holding a book and the words, 'My favorite thing to sink my teeth into' makes you smile. Something tells you it's Tony's, and when Vincent sees you wearing something that's such a contrast to everything he's seen you wearing so far, he even does a double take. 

Later in the night, you and Grace plant Vincent's orange tree in her own little orchard, and when you tell her where it came from, the look in her eyes tells you that you really can, in fact, trust her.

"Listen, if you ever need- if one of you-" Vincent casually calls you, using what he calls blood control.

He whispers in your ear. "It's best if you don't." He doesn't use the control as he says this, making it only a suggestion.

"How did you know-"

His hand on your face is so gentle you don't mind the interruption. "You're kind. You're too kind for the likes of people like us. Keep it to yourself. If they ever need it, I'll know. I just told them the same story I gave Sebastian. I never told them I died."

"...Fine."

"I don't like it, for the record. Using that on you. It will pass, but it is a vile power."

You had no idea he felt that way. "I'll try not to… make you have to use it." You close your eyes and lie your head on his chest. "You're not… the worst person ever."

His chest rumbles in quiet laugh, and he starts speaking, but Grace interrupts.

"Oh? Have we really kissed and made up then? Are you unconditionally and irrevocably-"

"Don't. Please don't." That's a trainwreck you're only too happy to derail.

A bat flies around a little in front of you, and then Tony's there again. "Found him." He grabs a robe that's hanging from the wall and slides into it. "He has places all over Romania, but he's staying in some secluded castle for the moment, middle of nowhere. I'll write down the directions for you." He eyes you up and down and says with a wink: "Nice shirt!"

"...You're a bat too? What else? Can you turn into like, a frog? A goat? A dragon?"

He just shakes a finger at you. "Secrets of the trade, my dear. Need to know only."

"And by him, do you mean Sebastian? You were looking for him? Why don't you guys use cell phones?"

"Well, after our friend Vincent here deeply regretted his harsh words-" Vincent slaps him over the head. "Ow. I set out to find him. And Sebastian is a hard man to find, don't think he just gives away his number to mere mor-, uh, immortals."

"Well, you know what they say." Paul's voice surprises you, because you had no idea he was home.

Grace smiles, rolling her eyes. "What, Paul? What do they say?"

"A mere mortal… shuffles not their own coil."

You have no idea who says that, and what it means.

"Did you get it? Is it like I asked?" Vincent sounds almost… giddy.

"See for yourself." Paul hands him a set of keys and Vincent all but drags you to the front yard.

The monstrosity is at least twice as big as your car, and it looks like something a government agent would drive. All windows are tinted, including the windshield. 

"V8, baby. Carbon body, alloy wheels, 2% ceramic tint. Should let you drive during the day no problem. I'm almost getting one for myself."

"It's perfect." Vincent looks at you. "This is a car." You had no idea he was this enthusiastic about cars.

"No, this is a fucking boat! Do you even drive? Because I don't know if I can handle something this big." A very, very intrusive thought crosses your mind, and from the way both Grace and Paul are looking into nothing, scratching their heads and clearing their throats, you can tell it crossed theirs too. Only Tony smiles innocently, looking a little lost. 

Vincent shrugs. "I've crashed a few vehicles here and there. Broke my arm once."

Resignedly, you take the keys from his hands. "At least I have the excuse that I was drunk."

"Wait. You guys can't go now!" Grace takes the keys from your hands and gives them back to Vincent. "I need to do a protection spell on you. On you both, actually. You do know where you're going, right?"

Tony raises a finger in the air, as if he just had a great idea. "You guys should take us to be your muscle, the car is big enough. C'mon, it would be like an adventure. Like, y'know like Lord of the… of the Flies!"

You frown at him. "...Not where I thought you were going with that."

Vincent glares at Grace. "Well, can't you do it now?"

"No, I have to gather the ingredients. Now come on, you can leave at tomorrow's sunset."

*

"Is your charisma natural or part of your abilities?" You're so far on the edge of the couch that you're almost falling.

"How do you mean?"

"Well… Grace said you left her for dead. And now she's in the backyard picking up stuff to make you a protection spell. So, y'know, I was just wondering."

"I didn't 'leave her for dead', she had plenty of time to run back inside before dawn, and she did. It was a long time ago, and we are very resilient."

"Hm. What about Paul?"

He sighs. "Paul knew it was just a fling, I doubt he's ever held any grudges. Are you scared of me?"

He catches you by surprise with the abrupt change of subject. "What? No."

"Then why are you so far away?"

"Listen." You get infinitesimally closer. "I don't know if this will be bad for your ego, but there has never been any moment since I met you that I was ever afraid of you." You lower your voice to a whisper. "But Grace is right outside, and since it's almost dawn, she'll come back at any moment, and I don't want her walking in on… anything. We are in the middle of their living room. And judging from the noise, Paul and Tony are still up and playing video games. So keep your pointy claws to yourself tonight."

"...Fine." He turns away and moves to the other edge of the couch.

He's sulking. Vincent, the master vampire, heart-breaker extraordinaire, is sulking.

"I mean, it's not like I don't want to touch you, but…"

"No, I understand. Good night."

He is not going to guilt trip you. He won't. You know this is what he's doing, so it's not going to work.

…

Sighing in disappointment at your own weakness, you get closer to him. "You're such an asshole." You pull on his arm so he'll turn towards you.

"What? I'm respecting your wishes."

"Yeah, you can cut it out now. The whole manipulation thing does not look good on you."

He smiles, running a hand over your face and neck. "I was so wrong about you. Unremarkable? You're anything but. You're clever. Astute. And you have your own strengths too."

"Yeah, well…" You pull on his arm until he's halfway on top of you. "You're clearly not one of them." You kiss him softly, the knowledge that neither of you will want to stop if it goes too far sending a most definitely welcoming shiver down your spine.

The back door opens. "I'm not looking. I'm not looking. Carry on, kids." Grace traverses the room quickly, holding a basket by her side, while Vincent rests his head on your chest. He smiles at you after she leaves.

"You were clearly right. We might as well sleep, it's a long drive."

Now you're the one who wants to sulk, but you know you really should sleep. But you don't let him get back to his side, instead keeping his head on your chest, fondling his hair until his breathing turns deep and slow.

*

"This will make you immune to anyone trying to control you, unless you look them in the eye. Lasts ten days." Grace rubs something on your forehead and has you drink from a crystal glass, and it tastes surprisingly good. You were wondering what you were going to do if a vampire simply used their powers to order you to take off the pendant. "And Vincent," she rubs it on his cheeks and hands. "This will allow you to use some persuasion without draining your own energy, but only on humans. It will also give you an aura of power, making it seem to anyone you're at least thrice as strong." He drinks it too, and something about the word 'aura' makes you smile, although you're not quite sure why. "Lasts five days. It's all I can do for you."

"Thanks Grace, for everything." You hug her tight, then Paul and Tony.

As you start the car, you glance at Vincent, who looks particularly content with the amount of space he'll have to stretch as much as he wants to. "Guess you can't deny that you do, in fact, have friends now."

He sighs, but the corners of his mouth do turn up. "And just like that, the air of mystery, solitude and superiority I've been cultivating for decades is shot to hell. My reputation has taken quite a plunge."

You smile too. "Aw, I'm happy for you!"

The new car is surprisingly smooth on the road, the seats plush and absurdly comfortable. But it will take you a while to admit out loud that it is much better than your old one. You do stop by the crash site to transfer the contents of the trunk and everything else you need.

"So, we just abandon it?"

Vincent shrugs. "It's so far into the woods no one's going to find it. Not in a town this small. Just let nature claim it."

You nod and pat the trunk. "See ya, old girl."

3

You were weary about driving during the day, but Vincent assured you it would be okay, it's specifically why he asked for such dark window tint. But you still stick to mostly driving at night, there's less traffic, and you really don't want to hazard him being wrong.

You try to pay for the room this time, but he decides to test Grace's spell before you can stop him, and you almost slap him. But it goes well, and as the clerk starts to wake up from his haze, he can't keep his eyes off of Vincent, shaking a bit as he hands you the key. It makes you grin when you imagine what kind of vision the man is seeing in his head as he looks at him. A boxer? A bodybuilder? Or he just sees him the way he is and inanely ponders about how that tall, yet slender man is the most powerful creature he's ever seen? 

While you shower, you think about your decision and wonder what he'll think of it. But when you come out and he's in bed already, shirt hanging on a chair, you almost go back on it. "I have a request." You lie down beside him. "Can we wait? Until you're better? Because I wanted it to be just like that morning, but I can't just walk around all bruised and scratched up. Sure, they'll look at me funny, but that part I'm used to. But everyone's gonna think I'm dating some abusive asshole, and I can't have that." The moment you realize you just said, 'dating', you choke on nothing, already thinking on what to say to fix it.

But he just pulls on your arm so you'll wrap it around his waist and runs the back of his fingers over your face. "I was barely awake that morning. You have seen nothing yet." And with that promise and all its implications on your mind, this time it does take you a long time to fall asleep.

*

Twice you are stopped, because of the non-regulation tint, you imagine, and both times Vincent just glances at the officer and he lets you go. It is a very helpful spell, especially since you were not looking forward to those tickets.

You grab the map Tony made you, trying to make sense of it.

"What does it say?"

You study it a little. There's a drawing of what looks like a castle over a hill, surrounded by trees and a nearby lake. "It's kind of like this place, but there's no lake here. I think it's on the other side."

He sighs. "Why couldn't he have used an actual map?"

"Well, he said it actually wasn't on the map. It's not any of the famous ones, which I think are just museums now, for tourists?" You watch the landscape dreamily. "Do you think we could visit Bucharest afterwards? I've always wanted to."

Vincent watches the castle you just passed. "Sure. But these… I just don't see the appeal, living in a place this big when all I need is a bed. Sebastian was always… excessive."

"Go ahead and call him extra. But um, I guess it does look kinda cool? And it has a nice view."

He glances at you. "Is it where you want to live?"

"Oh, no, no. I also think it's too big. A place like your house would work just fine for me. Even that I think it's too much, actually."

He takes the map, turning it one side then the other. "Turn here."

"Into… the forest?"

"Supposedly there's a path up ahead." It's late afternoon, so it's still bright enough that you're not afraid of getting lost, so you follow his instructions. "Where did you live?"

"I, uh…" You thought you wouldn't have to talk about it. "Just a small place, bed and a toilet. Couldn't afford much."

"Mobile home?" You nod quickly, shame creeping up your face. "I can only imagine how clean and tidy it was, after all you did for my house. Too bad it was all for nothing."

"It wasn't. Even if it was just for a short while, at least you got to see it kind of like what it used to look like."

You drive in silence for a while, and just as you're about to ask him for directions, he touches your hand softly. "Thank you." His voice just as soft.

You'd admit it, all your feelings for him if he asked again right now.

"You're welcome."

"Look." He points at a lake in the distance and a white structure atop of a hill that you can only imagine is your destination.

The moment you start approaching the castle, it's like the atmosphere changes, becomes more oppressive, and you feel like you're going straight to the final boss in an RPG, but your character is level 1. "Any last minute advice?"

"Sure, turn around and go back to Grace's. I'll call you when we're done."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Oh, you're being funny again. That's nice."

He sighs. "I could order you to. But you know I won't."

"I wouldn't forgive you if you did."

"Just… don't go anywhere alone with him. Don't tell him you're a necromancer. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I say he is dangerous. He was fine at first, but something changed after he moved here. Bad company, I imagine. And… there's something else too." He looks away, seemingly unwilling to continue, but you wait patiently. "I lied to you. She wasn't the one who turned him. I did. She… wanted to test to see if I had the ability, and told me to choose between him and Christopher. Of course I chose him. I thought I was protecting Christopher, but in the end it was all in vain."

"But… she made you do it, it's not like it was your fault."

"Well, he holds a grudge regardless. And do you know the reason? He can't turn others, and he thinks if she had been the one to bite him, that he would be able to, like me. But that's not how it works. You… you don't know what's going to happen. You don't inherit the traits of your sire, it's all random. Tony's the only person I've turned that can transform. And there was a girl once who could create illusions, I've never seen anything like that afterwards. I imagine it could be related to your personality. Or maybe your physiology. I don't know. I honestly don't know." Just as the sun sets, he takes your face in his hands. "If something happens to me, go back to them. They'll look after you. Even if you don't want to stay with them, they'll help you out."

"But I-"

"Promise me. Promise me this one thing."

"...Okay." He kisses you with such fervor that you moan a little, blushing when you realize you've done so.

"Don't look in his eyes, don't forget." He opens the door and you do the same.

"I won't."

The door to the castle has a knocker, but it also has security cameras. Vincent examines both. He points at the knocker. "Silver. His traps aren't only to keep humans out, it seems." Just as you're about to use it, the door opens.

And it's an actual butler. At least he seems to be, judging by how he's dressed. He makes way for the both of you. "Come in. Right this way, please." He leads you into some brightly lit hallways, then dark ones. You take Vincent's hand for these, weary someone or something might separate you. The butler finally leaves you in a big, round library. "Master will be with you in a moment." With that, he leaves.

There are so many bookshelves that it makes you wonder how anyone would have time to read all that. "I want to laugh but… it seems all humor has left my body."

"If he brings blood in a teacup, I might." You do laugh then, but stop quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. And as much as you want to get this over with as soon as possible, you still kind of hope it's just the butler with the cups of blood.

But it's not the butler. "Ah, my dear brother and the Re-Animator. I called you Renfield, when really you're more of a Herbert, aren't you? To what do I owe the honor of such esteemed guests?"

He… knows?

Before either of you can speak, he continues. "You think you fooled me that night? I know what it's like to feel one of my beloved brothers die. You were gone. For a few minutes you were gone. And then you were back. What conclusion did you want me to draw other than you died and someone brought you back? And I see you two that night, being all friendly and domestic… it wasn't exactly difficult to put two and two together." He crosses his arms. "Who killed you, by the way? It must have been a powerful hunter of beasts."

Vincent sighs. "It was a girl. I was careless."

"Hm. And where's she?"

He shrugs. "Gone."

"And that's where you come in." He turns towards you, and you quickly avert your eyes, looking down. "Did your hocus pocus and… brought him back. Simple as that."

"That's right."

"Interesting. And how does it work?" He gets closer, and your eyes remain on the floor.

"I… well…"

"Aren't you going to ask what we're doing here, Sebastian?" Vincent is suddenly beside you.

"What do you mean? I was thinking you wanted revenge against this girl, who's apparently so powerful you couldn't do it on your own."

"I couldn't care less about her. But I've run into a certain… predicament. I got silver poisoning."

Sebastian huffs. "What? How? The girl?"

You decide to take that one. "No, it was me. He did it to save me." His eyes are on you. You can feel him, trying to peek into your brain, trying to get in. You don't know if he's just trying to get you to tell the whole story or what, but you do so anyway. "I was dying, so he cut himself with my piercing so I could have some of his blood. But it was a silver earring. And it infected his neck."

"His neck? Why-" He thankfully turns his eyes back to Vincent. "Why didn't you cut your arm? That way all you had to do to heal was cut it off and wait for a new one to grow."

"Because… damn you, Sebastian. Get out of my head, you know it doesn't work."

"I was wondering why you were about to lie to me. I didn't pry much that night out of respect, because it was your home. But you're here now, and you're going to tell me everything. You know, out of respect. And by the way, where is all that power coming from? Because I know you're not that strong."

"It's a spell. A witch made me a potion and I drank it." Well, it's not a lie. "And…" he sighs. "I didn't think it would work anyway. The blood transfusion. So I wanted it at least to have an… intimate moment, at the end."

"Aww, you're so soft it's giving me nausea." You can't imagine how embarrassing this might be for him to admit it. But the one who's blushing is you.

Sebastian examines Vincent's neck wound for a while. "Well, then, here's what I propose. Why don't we cut your head off, Vincent, right below the infected gash. That way a new one can grow, and you'll be all fine and dandy again."

You almost choke at the absurdity of his words. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Absolutely not!" You look him in the eyes, then quickly avert your gaze to the floor.

"Why is it that you're so demure? It doesn't go with that mouth of yours. Are you trying to hide that black eye? Did he do this?" You feel him peering into your head again. When you don't say anything else, he grabs your chin so you'll look at him, but you close your eyes at the last moment. "Tell me!"

It lasts only a second, then he's gone. When you open your eyes, Vincent has Sebastian's arm in his grasp, pushing him against a bookshelf and choking him with his other hand. A couple of people rush into the room, security guards apparently, holding what seems to be silver-studded batons, but you could be wrong. Because they're clearly vampires too. Then you notice they're wearing gloves.

"Down, boys. It's just my little brother being a pest. Oh no, wait. I'm the little brother. I'm always forgetting that." He dismisses them with his unrestrained hand, and Vincent lets go of his throat. "Fine. I was kidding about the decapitation. That would obviously kill you. But I do know a way. Follow me." Vincent releases his arm, and you both follow him. More dark hallways and sets of stairs. Down, always down. 

After a while, you reach what seems to be a laboratory, clean and brightly lit. A vampire sits in a corner, smoking, an IV strapped to his arm. His leg on a chain that goes into the ground. You can't help but ask. "Who's that?"

"That's ah, Turner. Hey, Turner."

'Turner' flips him off. He stops next to a table full of creatures in jars, some of which you have never even seen. "Our sire had the right idea. She wanted to train us, to have enough of us so we could assert our dominance in the world."

"That's what you got out of it? Because to me, it seemed all she wanted to do was feed and fuck."

You look at Vincent, flabbergasted, because it's the first time you hear him using such language. Sebastian just smiles at him. "I guess our relationships were different. You were clearly her boytoy. But I was her soldier. And I intend to honor her legacy."

"She killed Christopher!"

Sebastian frowns. "I thought it was the other way around, Vincent."

Vincent actually growls. "If she hadn't bitten him-"

"He would have died. Didn't you know he was sick?"

"...What?" He's so taken aback that he shrinks a little, shoulders hunching and hands closing around his elbows.

"I found some documents. Medical exams and whatnot. Something to do with his lungs. It's a miracle he lasted that long, actually."

"...You told her to bite him." His voice is so muted you wouldn't have heard him if you weren't standing right beside him.

"I have many more guards down here, so keep your cool, I don't know if I can call them all back fast enough. But it was for his own good. She poisoned you too much with her blood, that's why you couldn't see it."

You take Vincent's hand on both of yours and he looks at you, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

"Ours wasn't the only house, you know. She had many others. And I've spoken to some of her other… children."

This time it's Vincent's hand that clutches yours, as if he's trying to hold back from doing something hasty. "Didn't you say you knew a way? To heal the silver infection?"

"We're getting there, we're getting there. Look. All my mad scientists. Dr. Brown, Dr. Doom, Dr. Octavius, Dr. Frankenstein… We've been studying it for a while now." He grabs a jar from a table where all the doctors, which clearly sport name tags with their actual names, are huddled around. 

There is a putrid, rotted hand inside.

"Yeah, that's mine." You immediately look at his arms, but he still has both hands. It's also when you notice he doesn't have claws like Vincent. You wish you had paid attention to Turner's hands. "It got cut off by a silver sword. Then I did that thing I said. I cut the stump further with a regular steel sword, and it grew back, free of poison. That one started necrosing pretty fast, though. How long did you say you cut yourself with the piercing?"

Vincent's still looking at the hand, so you answer him. "About twelve days ago."

"Oh, good, we have time then. That thing took about twenty days to get like that."

"Twenty…" Your hands squeeze Vincent's. "What do we do?"

"It's simple. Didn't you hear me calling all the doctors names? I'm clearly missing one. Dr. West." He looks at you with a smile that is nothing if not nefarious. "So here's the deal. We can't do it. Yet. But… we're close, really close, and with all of you together, I'm sure we can find a cure. And we have a whole week to work on it."

"Okay." You only realize you were staring at him after Vincent pulls your head to his chest. But it's too late. It doesn't make much sense, because you would have accepted anyway. Not that you know what you could possibly bring to the table. You have zero knowledge in anything medical related, or biological… and your head is going numb. You think Vin- who? someone is calling your name, but you can't really say for sure. All you can hear is Sebastian.

*

There's a man strapped to a table. He's really handsome. But pale, too pale. He tries to raise his hand in your direction, but can't due to the straps. And you want to touch him, he makes your heart hurt, and you don't know why. But the voice in your head reminds you that's not what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to collect tissue from his neck, the wound black and festering. It stinks, but you don't care, you just feel so bad for him.

*

You give your own blood too, and you do spells in both creatures and body parts. It doesn't seem to work very well with the body parts, but Franky helps you out with that. He says his name isn't Franky, but that's all you can call him.

*

The pale man is even paler now, and the wound on his neck looks much worse. You think you're crying, but you keep moving towards him, until someone grabs both your arms, and it's only after some struggle that they get you to open your hand, and the scalpel drops to the floor.

*

You're strapped to a table.

*

The black hand moves.

*

The man is gone from the table, but there's a black stain around the area where his neck used to be.

* 

You cry, and more Latin spews from your lips.

*

He's watching you. Watching you sleep. You know that. You know if you open your eyes, you'll see him, and everything will be okay. But you can't open them, it's like they're stitched together. Your mouth feels the same way. But your hands are free. You try to pry them open, but nothing works. Then you reach for your neck and feel something there. It's round. A pendant? 

The owl. The owl and the moon. 

You open your eyes, but there's no one there.

*

You're on a hill, there's a fight going on down there, it seems to be a man and a woman, but you're too far away to tell. Then you realize you've been following him, because you want something from him. You didn't feel anything for him then. You just wanted the one thing. But now you do, and when the girl impales him with the stake, you feel it in your own heart.

"Vincent!"

"Quiet, you're going to wake everyone up."

He's there. He's sitting right there, right beside you. Why isn't he in bed with you? Oh, it's a stretcher, not a bed. You reach to him, but can't move your hands. "Why am I tied up?"

"You were clawing at your mouth and eyes. I did it so you wouldn't hurt yourself." He moves as he speaks, untying the restraints, and the moment he does, your arms lock around him.

"I… I thought you were dead."

He chuckles. "Well, you almost tried to kill me once, but it's okay, I won't hold it against you since you were high out of your mind. Well, high on whatever Sebastian's persuasion is."

"I tried to… wait. Did…" You push him away from you so you can look at his neck. There is nothing, no bandage, no scar. His neck is tantalizing and irresistible and unmarred, just like it was before. "We… we did it?"

He nods. "Sebastian has more knowledge now than he did before. I don't know how bad this could be. But it doesn't matter. Something to worry about some other time. He's gone for now, said we could stay for as long as we wanted, but I wouldn't like another minute in here." You remember very vaguely of your time at the lab. It makes you feel guilty that you could possibly have aided someone's perverse experiments. "Let's go." He starts to get up and pull you with him, but you remain on the stretcher.

"Wait. Shouldn't we do something? How about that Turner guy? Do we release him? Do you think he's using him to… y'know…"

"What? What do you suppose we do? Rescue the poor soul? We don't even know who he is. He could be better off locked away for all we know."

"But… but we… I don't know. Maybe we could try to find out what his plans are? Try to thwart them?"

"Thwart them?" He smiles unamused. "This isn't an espionage movie, and we're no heroes. What we can do is keep an eye out for him, there's no point in acting blindly."

"...You haven't felt it, have you? You said his power doesn't work on you?"

"He has tried it, and I can feel him digging in, but no. None of our powers work on the other. To each other, we're just regular people." He has given up trying to get you to follow him, but hasn't sat back down.

"It's… dangerous. I can still feel it. I can still…" You can hear a voice in your head. StayStayStayStayStay. It's not quite Sebastian's, but it's somewhat similar. It's weaker, but at the same time stronger, because it's making you want to stay.

"I'm sorry." This time, Vincent does sit down beside you. "That you had to go through that. But there's no point in dwelling here anymore. Let's get as far as we can from here."

Stay.

Your head starts to muddle. "I… I have to stay."

He frowns. "What? Why?"

You want to keep helping on the experiments.

"I want to… keep helping on the experiments…"

"What? No, that's insane, why are you…" You don't hear the rest of his words with how loud the voice is..

You have a gift, and you want to share it for the greater good.

"I want to… I… to share my… gift?"

He glowers at you. "Who is inside your head?"

Grace's spell is still in place. This is all you.

"No one, Grace's spell is still in place. This is all me."

He continues glaring at you, and you can only imagine he's trying to get inside your head too. "Tell me the truth."

Your mind gets even muddier, but nothing comes out of your mouth. His blood control has been broken.

Let him go. The truth is you know he's not right for you. And you lied to him, you do in fact want to live in a castle. This one.

"You… we shouldn't be together…You should go. That is the truth. I want... I want to live here." The words feel disgusting in your mouth, and your heart feels like it's physically breaking. It only worsens when you look at his face.

You've never seen him make such a face. Such a betrayed face.

That's right. He'll be okay, you've done your part. Let him go. You don't want to be with him. Time to say goodbye.

You let go of him. "You're okay now, I've done my part, but… I don't want to be with you anymore. Goodbye." Something keeps your tears from falling, but your eyes are burning.

"...I see." He stands up again and starts walking away. That in itself already feels terrible and wrong. But there's something else. Something else that's wrong. 

Not knowing what to do, you grip the pendant with both hands. The grasp of that voice vanishes for a moment and you stand up, walking around slowly, head still jumbled, and you look for him, but he's gone already. Your heart is on the floor. You try to follow, but the place is a maze, hallways that lead nowhere, rooms full of people sleeping. 

Something's wrong.

"Vincent!" 

You'll wake everyone up. You don't care. Finally, you see light up ahead and you follow it, someone must still be up. It's such a bright light. You hope you're not back at the lab. No, the lab lights are white, this one is more yellow, and brighter. Way brighter. And warm. "No." You look at your watch. 5:58 a.m.

You step into the sunlight and see him outside. He's walking away from the castle, closer and closer to where the shadow of it ends and there's nothing but sunlight. "VIN-"

STAY

The pendant touches your hand and you grab it. "NO! FUCK OFF!" You jump out the window, trying to roll as you fall so you won't break anything, and when you look up, he's right there, and so is the sun. "Vincent!"

He turns around just as the sun hits his face, and you try to stumble to your feet, but your legs aren't working, but you have to pull him away, away from the sun, you have to, you have…

But the sun is already shining all over him, and he's turning to dust, getting smaller, vanishing… your heart is turning to dust too, he…

He's kneeling beside you. "What's wrong with you?"

"You… you're okay. You're okay. You're okay. You're… how, how are you okay?"

"I thought you wanted me gone?"

"No! Never! There was something. I don't know. Something in my head. Telling me awful things. Please let's get out of the sun."

His face softens, and he stands up slowly. "Come on."

"I… can't move."

"What? It doesn't seem like it was such a big fall. You're probably just in shock." He tries to pick you up, but fails, then he sits down in the shade of a tree.

"What-"

"Shh. In a moment."

You just nod and watch him. He's not dead, that's all it matters. When clouds cover the sun for a moment, he picks you up, still with a bit of trouble. You think about joking about being too heavy, but there's no mood for that.

Soon you reach the car. You can feel some movement returning to your legs when he puts you in the driver's seat and gets to his side, closing both doors.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I said those things. There was a voice like Sebastian's making me say it. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it. And I'm sorry I tried to kill you."

He watches you for a long time, then rests his forehead on yours. "It's fine. It's probably that thing. He said it was harmless, but… we should really get as far away from here as possible. Are your legs okay now?"

You try to move, and they do, but it still feels too weak. "Not really. But Vincent… it knew about Grace's spell. When I told you it was still in place, it was the voice who reminded me of that. It knows about it… and the spell doesn't work on it."

"I will talk to Sebastian about it. But we are leaving now, although I should warn you. Once again, we might not survive." He picks you up again and basically throws you in the back seat. Then he moves to the driver seat and turns the key, looking at the pedals. "I don't even know which one is the brakes."

"Oh, no." You cover your face with your hands, but the car seems to be moving just fine. "Wait. What thing? And you haven't told me how you haven't… disappeared yet."

"You said you trusted me, right? Then don't ask, you don't want to know. We won't ever have to deal with it again, since we're going far, far away. Where do you want to go? Bucharest?"

"Anywhere, anywhere is fine. Vincent, please."

"I… I can stand it. For a while, at least. I told you there are people with rare powers. I can stand it. Can barely move in it, though, and it hurts. And it makes me powerless for a while. I can feel it burning. I just… don't."

You want to yell. You want to scream on his face. Why didn't he tell you? But you don't. Something in his voice… "Are you embarrassed of it?"

"Of course! It's a weakness, not a power! It doesn't do me any good. When I stepped into it and realized I wasn't burning, I wanted to laugh at first. Then it did start to burn. Smoke actually started to rise from me, and I changed my mind. I dragged myself back to the shadow until I could move. So I suppose if I stay in it long enough…"

You open your mouth then close it again, realizing what he just said. He walked into the sun, willingly. Thinking he would turn to dust.

You don't know what he sees when he looks at you through the rear view mirror, but his voice is soft. "It was a long time ago."

You can't stand being in the back seat anymore. "Pull over." He does so without a word, and your legs are well enough that you can open the back door and walk to the front. You sit beside him, a hard fit, but when he tries to go to the passenger seat, you don't let him. Then you hold him so tight he actually gasps a little. "It's okay." You breathe him in. "You're okay. Everything is okay."

He whispers something in your ear, and you revel in the elation it brings you. "Do you believe me now?"

You take a deep breath, and it takes you so long to exhale that you can't say how long you've been holding it. "Yeah. I love you too. So much you wouldn't believe it."

*

You don't know much about stars, but you can tell the hotel has five of them. The receptionist watches you approach the counter with visible disgust. Then Vincent does his thing, and you grab the keycard.

"There's a jacuzzi! I've always wanted to try it. Can you call room service?"

"Sure. What would you like as your last meal?"

*

It hurts much more than you thought it would, but you try not to squirm too much. You just hold his head in place, fingers splaying in his hair as he sucks the life out of you.

*

Both the pain and the hunger are unbelievable, and he gives you his arm to suck on, warning you it's not going to really ease the pain, only help you heal faster. You black out, and when you wake up, there's someone else in the room. A zombie? No, just a girl. She's holding your knife, and there's a gash in her wrist. "I won't let you get too much. You're not going to kill her." He brings the girl's arm to your mouth and you suck, you couldn't care less if she died, you just want to feed. It tastes good, so good. Delicious. More. More. More.

But he's pulling her away from you, and you whimper, trying to follow. But once again, you're restrained.

"Shh, it's okay. I brought more." You manage to look around, and there's another girl and two boys, all zombie-like in their expressions. You feel loved.

*

Vampires do go to the bathroom. But only number one.

*

"...They don't remember?"

"They remember what I want them to remember. Those two couples? Made a suicide pact all together, but regretted it last minute."

"I… I didn't even care if she lived or died. But I do. I do now. Is she okay?"

"They all are. And it's part of the initial hunger. Next time you'll be aware enough already."

*

You feel more vain than you ever did looking in the mirror. "Huh. I don't think I need makeup anymore."

*

You want to make it special, something you'll both always remember. An idea strikes you, and you drag him to the car. You take off your clothes, staying only in your underwear. "Much more space, no vomit, no sunlight."

The effect is almost immediate… you can see it in his pants. "I'm not sure if any of that would have been enough to stop me, to be honest."

"Ew." He's still watching you voraciously. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He pounces.

Mouth on yours hungrier than ever before, claws making short work of what little you were wearing. Then he sits back on his seat and pulls you onto his lap. You kiss him just as he enters you, and you moan into his mouth, legs parting to get more of him. Then his teeth are on your neck and his nails all over you. You barely manage to pant your desires. "Harder… More…"

"Which?"

"...All of it."

He makes a feral noise that has you swooning. "Perfect is not nearly a good enough word to describe you."

You look at your arms and almost feel bad for bleeding all over the upholstery. Almost.

He speeds up, hands on your hips gripping so tight as he brings you down on him over and over that you're sure those marks will take longer to heal than the scratches. You die in his arms, the best death of your life, and he follows soon after.

When your breathing starts going back to normal, you kiss his neck and return to your seat so you can smoke, and when you look down at yourself, still panting a little, you can see the scratches have already started to heal. "Aw, man."

He chuckles. "Really? I won't feel bad for you next time, then."

"Oh? And when is next time?"

He's still smiling, gloriously naked and beautiful, and you wonder when was it that he took off his clothes. Then you see his pants are still around his ankles, and his shirt is on the floor of the car, buttons scattered all over. Your dead heart has never beaten harder. "Have mercy, I'm an old man. Give me at least five minutes."

Being a vampire fucks.

"That long? Maybe there's something I can do to help speed up the process." Cigarettes completely gone from your mind, in a moment you're between his legs, once again thankful for such a spacious car, and the gesture alone is enough to get a decent reaction out of him. You don't dawdle too much, or at all, taking him in your mouth as far as you can, almost choking, then going further and further, until he pulls you away.

"Okay, that did it."

You grin, returning to your seat. "Harder."

"...I haven't even started yet."

"Why not?"

Something snaps underneath you. You're pretty sure the poor car seat isn't supposed to recline that fast and without using the handle. Now the car's going to need both a wash and a mechanic.

He bites so hard, it's almost like he wants to turn you again. You moan your appreciation and try to move against him, not that the position helps much. You almost regret not settling for the bed. One of your feet ends up on the ceiling, while the other hits the horn.

"Oops. Do you think someone's gonna come?"

"You and me, hopefully."

You laugh and kiss him again.

*

"Let me try it, I think I can do it."

"Not with that attitude, you can't."

"What?"

"What? The movie we just saw last week? With the green old man? Do or do not, there is no try."

You grin. "Never in a million years did I ever think I'd hear you quoting Star Wars. Alright, I'll do it." You look the realtor in the eyes, focusing hard. Give me the key, all the documents are signed, everything is paid for.

Her eyes go out of focus for a moment, but then she just shakes her head with a frown. "What just-"

Vincent does it with a glance. She hands him the key and leaves.

"Showoff."

He kisses your head. "It's okay, you can try it on the car guy when we go pick it up. It just takes a little practice." The house isn't big, but there's a mantel in the living room, and you place the box with the pendant. It's a little crooked since you had to handle it with a piece of cloth, but it looks good. There's catnip in the garden, which you hope will bring many of your favorite creatures for a visit. There's also a place perfect for an orange tree. You hope it hasn't grown enough that it won't fit in the car. But by the time you decide to go pick it up, Grace tells you it's grown so much it would be dangerous to uproot it. She has a new sapling ready for you on your next visit.

*

Your hand still hurts where the sun touched it. Vincent chides you, but you had to know. You just had to know.

*

"I don't know, guys. It's not the same thing." Grace removes her sarong and spreads it over the sand so she can sit on it.

"Why, just because you can't tan? You can moonbathe, isn't it better? No burnt skin, no need for lotion."

She shrugs. "Moonbathing does make my spells stronger. Alright, where's the picnic basket?"

"Oh, I have it." Tony brings the picnic basket, a beach ball, snorkels, flippers and many other things you had no idea were in the car.

The picnic consists of jello blood cubes, blood popsicles, just plain old blood in a jug of juice and a watermelon. Which was Paul's idea.

"We can hit it with a baseball bat. I saw it in an anime."

"Why, Paul? Why?" Vincent rubs his face.

"For fun, you curmudgeon. Fun. Still know what that is?"

"Fine, but don't blame me if I accidentally hit your head instead." He doesn't, but the watermelon explodes with the first hit, so that's an activity that ends too quickly.

Later when everyone's too tired from playing and it's just the two of you by the fireplace, you can't hide a satisfied smile. It went great, and everybody seemed to have a good time.

"Why the beach, though?" he asks between kisses on your neck and ear.

"Well… it's been a year today. I wanted to celebrate, then I remembered something Grace said once, and I thought, why not, y'know? We're allowed to have fun at the beach or wherever the hell we please. To hell with the sun, who needs that stupid ball of fire."

There has been no news on Sebastian, whatever he's planning, if he is planning, none of you heard a thing. Besides, is it even your job to… what? Stop him? Keep him in line? Defeat him? You snort. If it comes down to it… when the time comes…

"I know what you are thinking." You eye him suspiciously. "No, I haven't secretly had telepathy this whole time, I just know you. And I really don't think you should worry all that much. He's a procrastinator. Whether he plans to gather an army to, I don't know, lead the 21st century vampire uprising against the world or he just wants to increase his harem size, it will take a while either way. And he'll end up doing neither."

"... Harem?"

"I used to be like him, in a way."

"Harem?"

"No!" He laughs and pushes you away, then immediately brings you back. "I looked for someone too, someone who would be by my side. Someone strong, someone… perfect." He takes your face in his hands. "But then you came along and threw a wrench right in the middle of that plan."

"Um… y'know, I think we should try to see if you would survive that decapitation after all." You put your hands around his neck, but the sensation of his pulse under your fingers and the expression in his eyes are enough to assuage you. "Asshole." You kiss his neck and look around. Your friends, something you've never had much of in your life. Grace bathing in the moonlight, even wearing sunglasses (moonglasses?), Paul apparently sleeping while Tony buries him up in the cold sand. Then your eyes return to him. Your lover. The person who hung the moon and the stars. You really couldn't ask for anything more. "I love it, you know? Love this life. Thank you for giving it to me."

He lies down on the sand and pulls you on top of him. "You know, I think that should be my line."

LeEnd

(some notes)

I should say that in my canon Cora can endure the sun because her transformation isn't complete, and to be honest I'm unsure if she defeated the 'curse' by the end or not. And her mother can kinda stand it? idk, her mom's probably a ghoul, who cares about her bleh

(Also they were in Europe all along?? Even though the campers in the film all seemed to be American?? What? Uh... tourists.) But yeah, I know it was filmed in California but it kinda gave me a European feel. Who cares, not important.

Also2 I know I set up some shit with Sebastian and his... thing, whatever that might be, but I don't think there will be a part 3. It's not impossible, but it's highly unlikely. Unless a muse comes and bites me right in the ass

This was all inspired by London After Midnight (the band not the film) and to me they're Vincent's band now. Either Spider and the Fly or Love You to Death could very well be his theme song. Actually no, scratch that. Their entire discography is his theme song 🧛

Part one and this are hands down the most absolutely self-indulgent thing I've ever written in my life. No joke. And there's barely any smut

Thanks for reading.

No, wait, there's more. Eh, just a couple of dialogues that I didn't end up using because things went a different way.

"Y'know, we should have a double date sometime now that we're officially dating and all."

He looks at you as if you've grown a third eye. "Officially? I thought that was settled since I kissed you the first time. Have I not been a proper boyfriend to you after that?"

Well, of course not! crosses your mind, but then you think about it, really think about it. Every word. Every action. Everything he said and did and you thought he wasn't serious. Yes, you realize your mistake. Your big, dumb mistake. Because he has. Ever since that day in the attic he's been so much… well, you wouldn't say nicer, or sweeter but… less of an asshole?

Really? This entire time?

You're about to speak, but then he continues. "We've been looking for a place to live. Together. As… roommates, then?"

"Oh no."

"Your face is really, really red."

You cover said face with both hands. "Shut up! Oh no. I'm so stupid. I'm so, so stupid."

"That's okay." He pulls your hands from your face so he can kiss you. "You can be stupid all you want, I love you regardless."

*

"You kissed my what?"

You can't bear to look at his face. "I don't wanna talk about it."

He ignores you. "Because, I seem to remember you calling me a creep, you, who stalked me for weeks, who watches me sleep…"

"How do you- I mean, uh…"

"And while I was sleeping, you said you kissed my what?"

"I don't want. To talk. About it. It was a slip of the tongue."

"Oh, I'll bet it was."

"Vincent…!"

"It's alright, I don't mind. The creep and the freak. I bet people will have a hard time figuring out who's who."

You can't even be mad at him for that. Because he doesn't even know the worst part.

Okay now it's really the end.

[vanillablankcanvas]

Sable's Secret

Even with his eyes closed he could feel Sable freaking out.

Sable's voice shook. "Promise me you won't freak out."

"Sable, baby I promise."

He heard Sable try to control her breathing as she exhaled slowly and she placed something weighty in his hands.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

...

..

.

John Dory blinked in confusion at the object in his hand.

"Oh" he said softly as he recognised it.

Sable's heart dropped and her shoulders sagged.

"Is this pine?"

.......what?

"Eh?" Sable replied with the most elegance she could muster.

"You shouldn't be using pine that's just silly. Gets all bent all out of shape and cracks at the slightest breeze. Willow wood is where it's at! It more flexible."

Sable was utterly baffled by his reaction.

"It... you don't think it's weird?"

"That you have a wooden leg? Pffft noooo."

Sable's eyes darted around the room in confusion. Surely he's bluffing?

"Is this a joke?"

John Dory looked up from the leg to find Sable starting to visibly shake. He quickly placed the leg down on the table and held her hands.

"Sabe, I'm not joking...why would you think I'm joking?"

She couldn't look at him.

"You were really scared to tell me, weren't ya?"

She could only nod a little bit.

"What happened?"

She brought her gaze up to meet his but didn't reply.

"We were in the tunnels...."

***

Flashback to teenage Sable running through the tunnels with her parents. The Bergens had already discovered they'd escaped and were trying to dig them out.

Sable was running alongside her parents. The shaking from the Bergens footsteps and shovels cause the tunnel to rumble and Sable loses her footing and falls.

Just as a Bergen shovels through the dirt above her.

Right through her leg....

Flashforward a a year or two later

Sable is in a makeshift hospital in the forest. The Pop Trolls are trying to rebuild their society but she can't do much to help.

Only her parents visit her.

Not Summer

Not Sage

Not Sonnet

Not Scout

She fell into a dark place.

She was grey for a short time.

After that, the only thing she found herself being able to do was read. She found comfort in the books. She found an escape. This was her beginning towards her extensive education and her acting career.

***

"So when you didn't wanna go swimming?..."

"Yes"

"The long ass skirts?..."

"Yes"

"The 'always turnin up to stuff too early' thing?"

"I prefer not to have an audience if I am forced to use stairs."

"....No dancing?"

She turned to him sadly. Her ears drooped.

"That one hurt the most."

"So the reunion rumours...?"

"I did not refuse the reunion because I am, as they said, 'too good for my pop star past'. I physically cannot do the dances anymore!"

"Do the other Sugar Girls know?"

"No. You are now one of the very few who knows."

"I'm honoured."

Sable tried to smile but she really couldn't.

John noticed she had gone quiet in her thoughts.

"Babe, I've met Trolls with lost legs before. Heck, I've met Trolls with eyes made of glass, some with more scars than skin, one guy had half his stupid face missing, trust me it was an improvement! A wooden leg isn't scary."

"This-" she gestured to the leg "-Is an everlasting reminder of the most horrible time of my life. I was alone and afraid and-"

"-and you survived!"

Sable gasped. Tears began to formed.

"And you're here! You coulda thrown yourself in hole and never come out but you said 'not today' and look at you now! You're a smokeshow who kicks the ass of everything thrown her way. " He playfully punched her arm "Myself included!"

She wiped the tears before they had a chance to fall and leaned against his shoulder.

"Will you tell me what happened to your hand?"

John looked down to his glove. He sighed and slowly took it off.

"Well I guess you showed me yours, I gotta show you mine now huh?"

"Jonathan Dor-" she stopped short when she saw his exposed hand.

The hand did not look good at all. She felt like a hypocrite having thought that. At least her stump had been cared for and healed properly. John's hand looked like it had been crushed and had no care given to it at all.

"How?"

"For a while, folks from all over thought I was the last Pop Troll. They hadn't taken a liking to Pop yet so I had a bounty put on my head. They thought they could get ridda Pop for good. Some Yodeler was on my tail, got me with an ice pick."

Sable was shocked and blinked at him almost not believing him.

He tried to flex his hand, but not much happened. "This thing kinda reminds me of when I was alone too but-"

"-but you survived. Just like I did. And look at us now."

He used his now ungloved hand to grab hold of hers and bring it to his lips for a gentlemanly peck.

"So you really don't care about my leg?"

"Nah, makes me love you more."

"John?"

"Yah babe?"

"You realise that is the first time you've said that to me?"

"What?"

She looked at him waiting for him to connect the dots.

"........I said the L word?"

"You did."

"...No I didn't"

"I heard you"

"...I take it back"

"John Dory-"

"-Nononoono, nope it didn't happen." he covered his ears.

"John!"

"Nopenopenope, didn't happen!"

"I love you too, you moron!"

He stopped and uncovered his ears.

He smirked as he ran over and scooped her up bridal style.

"Leg, shmleg! What is so wrong with you that you somehow love me back?"

Sable could only laugh as he pulled her close.

Yeah

Leg shmleg

There is also an NSFW reason she was hesitant to tell him if anyone wants to know 😏

[gaylienz]

sharing some of my ocd intrusive thoughts for the first time jic it might help someone else feel less alone;

the fear that i dont have enough friends and that all the ones i have are going to realize i’m not worth being around were some of the first thoughts that would NOT leave my mind and would keep me up and make me sick and ironically caused me to lose friends (a self fulfilling prophecy). tbh these are still some feelings i struggle with despite carrying on years long friendships now.

it hasn’t happened in a while but sometimes i would hyper focus on my breathing or swallowing or blinking etc and would drive myself to the point of tears with how it took up all my attention

the worst ones are the thoughts about incest. there’s been a lot of sexual trauma in my family and my brain likes to find the worst moments (like when i’m trying to jerk off or sleep) to remind me and torture me with all the what ifs. its gotten slightly better but i would have dreams/nightmares and memories from childhood haunt me

i used to do this really cool (/sarcasm) thing where i would be so self conscious about my race, being white-passing, and racist (aka a potential threat to any poc around) that it circled right back around to being super racist (another self fulfilling stupid prophecy) bc i would get nervous anytime someone not-white was around that they would be anxious about my presence….

classic suicidal thoughts even when im not feeling suicidal (something goes wrong even a little bit—my brain: well this wouldnt have happened if you were dead. me: wow thanks) even now today im struggling with the awful 'im gonna kill myself' jokes. trying to replace with 'i need rat bites to live' lol

the way i dealt with the obsessions was a combo of things which never really felt compulsive but now i see they might be? i used to read a lot. like to the point where i would skip meals and be inside for the entire day, unmoving. i liked reading but mostly it was how i kept my mind busy and away from other more dangerous thoughts.

i guess body-focused repetitive behaviors (BFRBs) are a thing with ocd which i didnt always know—basically its really gross and im ashamed of it but i autocannibalise….i’ve been doing so for as long as i can remember but im so ashamed i’ve never really talked about it bc i just thought i was disgusting (and maybe i am) but i catch myself doing it without thought which i believe is impulse (or habit?) idk but it hurts my body so probably would be considered mildly concerning? i've pulled out my hair and given myself many scars through this kind of stuff.

anyway just letting you know that you're not alone, don't be afraid to ask for help, and if that doesnt work then never give up and keep asking for help, be excellent to each other you never know what someone is experiencing <3

[animatedjen]

Hi! So I am relatively new to the Jedi games but became so quickly and deeply obsessed, and seeing another user send you a headcanon has inspired me to share one too, because I have no one I can talk about this stuff with IRL, haha. I guess a warning that it's kinda nsfw (like, VERY mildly), so it's TOTALLY okay if you don't want to post this.

Ever since finishing the game I've been thinking so much about Merrin and Cal and how their relationship will change now that they've admitted and embraced the fact that they have feelings for each other. Part of me for a while was thinking maybe Cal had his "first time" with someone he met through the Rebellion in the five-ish years between Fallen Order and Survivor, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it would be more in character for him to uphold the part of the Jedi code that forbids romantic attachments. Like, he was just so focused on fighting the Empire that even when a slight interest in a person did arise within him, he convinced himself that it was not only against the code, but a distraction from the fight. So, he pushed all those feelings away.

This leads me to my headcanon that Cal's first time is with Merrin after the events of Survivor. While I don't have lots of specifics in mind as to when or how it comes about, I imagine that when it does happen, it is the softest, slowest, sweetest first time in the history of first times. I like the idea of Cal, this person who dives headfirst into everything and (as Cameron once said himself) "kind of likes to fight," just being incredibly thoughtful and deliberate and maybe even nervous about allowing himself to be that vulnerable with another person. Like, all these powerful emotions and powerful physical feelings would be overcoming him, and the sheer magnitude of it all would cause him to slow down and ask Merrin to lead the way, and he'll follow, so that he knows he's not hurting her or taking things too fast.

And Merrin, who is always ribbing him and teasing him and having silly banter about who's stronger, who's faster, etc., abandons all of that during their first time and is just purely kind, patient, attentive, and present with him, taking pleasure in taking the lead and cherishing the trust that he's put in her. And when it's over, I like to think they just lay together talking quietly for who knows how long, with Cal holding Merrin tight against him and Merrin tracing her fingers along his skin, maybe along his tattoo or his scars, while they tell each other stories and pretend like they'll never have to get up and leave this wondrous place <3

My offline Star Wars community is pretty small, so it's nice to have people on here to share ideas with :) So glad you enjoy the Jedi games!!

There's a lot of narrative weight to Cal and Merrin: the Nightsister massacre being led by a lightsaber (Grievous), the manipulation from Malicos, the Jedi views of attachment and dark magick. They're both survivors of a war that destroyed their families, and they take turns helping each other heal and grow.

Almost every main character in FO/Survivor is a foil to Cal in some way - but unlike all these fallen Jedi, Merrin looks to the future and finds new purpose while still honoring her past. I think that's something Cal really admires in her.

I love the trust and steadiness that they have together regardless of romantic attraction. Admittedly I haven't read Battle Scars and didn't go into Survivor wanting a relationship for Cal, so I may not be the best person to share intimacy headcanons with?? But I'm supportive of the story Respawn wants to tell, and recognize the weight/importance of their connection when it comes to Jedi 3. These tags on my recent post are kind of where I'm at:

Also Star Wars is very much lacking in the "healthy relationship that LASTS and no one DIES" department so if these two can break the trend, that'd be great 🙌

[disenchanteds]

okay now ep 2

the wild card is literally they are always starving but they cannot eat normal food they have to chomp on stones and dirt and grass and wood and everything that isnt usually food and each one gives them a different effect (including poison) and they have to figure out which foods actually feed them AND THEN it gets randomised every like hour or so? (they have 3 hour recording sessions so idk exact timing so) and so they start from square one again and there was A Lot Of Death

now so every life series cows are important for food u see but then thats where all the mayhem and stealing happens and impulse goes over to gem and joel to accuse them of stealing his team's cows when they didnt and it was actually martyn but none of them know that and so the next time scott cleo pearl and impy comes over gem says "i dont like you impulse" AND THEN SHE TURNS AROUND AND SAYS TO PEARL "and i dont LOVE you because you betrayed me last season" and just the pure fact that gem said love instead of like for pearl??!? the fact that she just rounded on pearl like that even though pearl has done nothing??? *cries in despair* and now we have gempearl divorce arc

TO MAKE THINGS WORSE bdubs found out that cobblestone wall causes poison and gives it to pealr and asks her to eat it but pearl already knows what it does so bdubs asks her to give it to someone else and she tries to give it to gem but gem refused and did not want to trust her even when pearl said she would eat it with her and then pearl eventually gives up and walks away while saying "i should try this on someone else but everyone else is my ally" BUT GEM OVERHEARD IT and turns to scott who was just standing there and said "wHy would she say that SHES INSANE" even though from pearl's pov u can basically tell that pearl believed that with gem she wouldnt take the aftermath too hard and would laugh about it with pearl and then forgive her while others might not but GEM TOOK IT THE WRONG WAY AND UGHHHH

and then heres more stuff they've said on livestreams

basically gem has been playing through subnautica and there was this one scene where a person breaks up with someone else and says the line "i would like to reduce our hours together. to zero" and gem basically reacts to it by saying "wow i've never heard a breakup line so cold before...reduce our hours together to zero. i should try that line on pearl" head in hands WHY gem WHYYY

and then pearl on her stream said "why are people saying i betrayed gem when she was actively trying to kill my mounders (her alliance team) the whole time and i actually allied with scar for the last episode and never had any actual alliance with gem so really she betrayed me first" and guess what SHES RIGHT. i really need to lock them in a closet and have them talk it out i swear. and during the secret life finale even, pearl literally said to gem "lets sword it out gem lets sword it out" when pearl couldve killed gem with a bow easily and pearl is also better with an axe and has lost to gem multiple times with a sword but idt gem heard it and scar and gem were already battling it out so now we have gempearl divorce. i am both so enthralled but also in pain. save them please

there is actually so much more that happened in this ep but i'll prob talk about it tomorrow together with ep 3 because im sleepy eepy and i have to watch ep 3 that just came out too

OKAY OKAY TOXIC YURI TIME OKAY. gem NO DON'T DIVORCE HER but also I am SO here for it they should get more toxic but also PLEASE DON'T CAN YOU BE HAPPY PLEASE but also YESSSS TOXIC YURI

[bluebudgie]

So... what's up with these two?

(I love recycling old pictures.png)

You may or may not have seen me draw these rats repeatedly and you may or may not care what's up with them.

Well, in case you do... buckle up, we'll be here for a while.

Just in case: very vague ableism mention. I'm cutting down on pretty much all details, but just so you know the general topic comes up at some point. Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.

Unrelated disclaimer: words are difficult.

It's probably smart to start with a general character introduction so you get an idea of who you're dealing with.

So, Petthri.

(Shared most of this stuff about him before, now it's gathered in one place at least.)

The outgoing guy, grew up in a supportive family, always been the popular kid among peers, and later a pretty popular professor with his students (less so with some other colleagues, but hey). Very passionate about animal bioacoustics. Very hands-on when it comes to research and teaching. Infodumps a lot.

He's got his heart in the right place, but he's obviously not flawless. Has his thoughts constantly drifting in twelve different directions at once, can definitely not read the room, and has absolutely said and done things that hurt others just because he didn't think (and probably never realized). Likely to nervously laugh his way through most dangerous situations, but does manage to pull himself together and get things done if things turn really bad.

He got – at some point (precise date TBA, sometime around PoF events) – kidnapped by the Inquest because they wanted some of his research but didn't manage to sort through his mess. So they just took the entire man to the CoE and decided to keep him. Niche knowledge could always be useful after all. They were even kind enough to gift him an additional facial scar during the welcome interrogation! (The other one was a field trip accident). True hospitality.

Not sure if it's incredible optimism or naivety, but he's generally been doing alright during this whole prisoner situation. He's not locked up, they let him work on things he actually cares about (albeit not for the right cause), and overall he's had enough hope to believe he'll get out of there one day. Make the best out of the present, it'll be fine somehow.

I'm sure if you were to dig deep enough he'd find out he's actually less alright than he thinks he is. Oh well.

Let's talk about the other guy. Lahpp.

Me. I created you. (I've said barely anything about this man on here so far bc while I could fill the 20k essay with him alone, writing about him intimidates me lol. Also in case you're ever asking yourself this, no I did not realize his name sounds like 'lab' until weeks after I created him. Unfortunate coincidence. So, anyway...)

Obedient Inquest scientist, questions but doesn't oppose orders, has been doing the same work for the better part of the last two decades. Day in, day out, getting up early and staying up late. Somewhere in the middle of the pyramid scheme, he's definitely got a bunch of heads above him but he's nowhere near the bottom end of the chain. Got his own little lab space. Enjoys music theory in the little free time he allocates. Assertive, lets people know when not to bother him, but very polite nonetheless. Has mastered the art of superficial small talk. The guy who holds open doors and pulls your chair back for you with an acted but convincing smile. Truly employee of the month material.

He's never known anything but this perfectly ordered working drone life so he's fairly content with his current position.

....

Yeeaah you guessed there's more below the surface.

So this man's life started with being the subject of a failed genetic dragon magic experiment, first one in a handful of infants that actually lived, but ultimately he got nothing out of it but a fair share of various health conditions and disabilities. The initial project was dropped after a few years of surveillance with no results, and instead he got handed over to one of the medical departments so they could "at least make use of him" and test some cutting-edge medical tech. No wasting ressources, am I right? (:

Fastforward some years, a miserable childhood full of abuse and ableism (and by extension just as much of it internalized) essentially left him with the obsession of wanting to fit in with everyone else, wanting to be like everyone else, never having anyone find out anything about his conditions and his past. Worked his ass off in college so it wouldn't be apparent he struggled when others didn't. Created a work environment for himself that he knew would be accommodating to him while not raising any possible questions.

He's been doing fine for some time now; while he definitely hasn't gotten rid of his insecurities he has somewhat accepted that he just... is who he is. Some days are worse and some days are better. His brain has done a very thorough job suppressing pretty much all his early childhood memories. He has also convinced himself that being a perfectly exploitable asset to the corporation that abused him for years is definitely the right way to stick it to the system. They said he'd never be useful for anything and die an early death? Ha, showed 'em! (I am saying this with a lot of sarcasm. He is genuine.)

He's definitely a product of the environment he grew up in, which is a shame because if he hadn't been indoctrinated by the Inquest since birth he would have probably turned out a pretty decent person. He doesn't have the absolute worst inner moral compass. Alas, as it is he has contributed to [some fucked up things] and has [some fucked up views]. And he's not about to change that.

So... at what point do the stories of these two actually connect?

Petthri and Lahpp first met within a larger group of mostly scientists from mixed divisions that were sent on a trip to Rata Primus.

I won't go into the full details of The Rata Primus Odyssey now because that is a whole different story arc involving a total of six of my characters, but the relevant information is that they arrived in the wrong place at the wrong time (A Bug In The System says hello!), and got trapped in the main complex together (alongside Phlish and my charr engineer Leto) when Awakened shit hit the fan.

In short, the following escape mission lasted way too long, and made for an incredibly exhausting 0/10 experience for everyone involved. Cooperation between our two relevant asura actually went surprisingly smooth for the most part, at least way better than with the rest of the small group.

(Bringing that old edit back. Two criminals actually getting shit done in the back while the others are about to snap each other's head off.)

I did once offhandedly mention that Lahpp held Petthri at gunpoint exactly one time – that was here. He was not going to risk getting onto HQ's watch list for letting a prisoner slip away while he's even remotely involved.

Ultimately exhaustion and having no access to important medication for a prolonged amount of time got the better end of Lahpp, and while the other two would have probably just left the "dead weight" behind, Petthri made sure he made it out with them. Not a great time for the little Inquest criminal, both physically and mentally given his inclination for secrecy regarding certain topics.

A few days after they returned to the CoE Petthri checked up on Lahpp to make sure he's recovering, but afterwards... radio silence from both sides for the next few years.

–

Fastforward, it's now Cantha time!

If Lahpp had a piece of gold for everytime HQ sent him away on a "business trip" that'll end up nearly killing him, and likewise Petthri had one for everytime he'd be witness to that, they'd both have... two pieces of gold, which isn't much, but it's still weird it happened twice.

Once again as part of a larger group, our criminals find themselves in New Kaineng City. And because I am a mere human being that is not above resorting to overused tropes, they do of course end up having to share the same room for the time of their stay. I never claimed to be a mastermind storywriter.

At least this time the trip starts out fairly unspectacular, with mostly guided group tours through the city and its labs. Lahpp is not feeling too great (understatement) during all of this for reasons he can't quite grasp, but he's got a really bad gut feeling. Petthri actually notices he's lingering a lot and falling behind, so he suggests they split off from the rest of the group and go back to their room early. Get some rest, the journey to Cantha was long after all.

The next days are pretty calm, the Inquest is snooping around while our two heroes actually have some time to talk and get to know each other a little more. Petthri finally gets to tell someone his whole 'and this is how I was kidnapped!' story. Petthri's questions are getting a little too personal for Lahpp's taste, but overall they get along alright. It's almost like two people that have been way too lonely for several years are actually finding a bit of comfort for a moment. (Side note: Petthri warms up to people very quickly, and he might be (without realizing it) getting a little too comfortable with the idea of having found someone "redeemable".)

Now wouldn't it be great if a nearby reactor blew up and an elder dragon escaped?

The event itself isn't really affecting them (yet) but I do think Lahpp must be questioning the Eternal Alchemy at this point. Thaumanova. Multiple near-meltdowns in the Crucible. Rata Primus. Now this. Seriously, at some point it's just ridiculous.

With each new information surfacing, the "bad gut feeling" is slowly but surely turning into mild but continuous panic. Something is off and it clearly has something to do with dragons. Now, Lahpp never really cared about the whole elder dragon business. Whatever sort of magic experiment he was used for, it's the outcome that affected his life, not the source of it. Still, the thoughts are starting to occupy his mind more than he'd like to admit. Petthri is entirely unaware of any of this.

Oh wait – what's this? A new unknown form of raw magic rapidly spreading and threatening to destroy Tyria? Obviously this is something to be investigated, so the larger group coordinates an excursion to Dragon's End. And obviously they end up getting into the battle for the jade sea.

I guess at this point you see where my art is coming from.

Petthri and Lahpp never get to fight Soo-Won herself (no canon meta participation alas), but they are busy enough fending off Void creatures on ground level anyway. It's unclear (to me) if or how much the Void actually affects Lahpp on a physical level, but regardless he is not having the best time being confronted with something that is so unknown to him and yet so closely connected to his very being.

Some resurfacing traumatic memories combined with a not-so-pretty panic attack (and the physical stress of fighting) later, it's poor Petthri's task to once again take a blacked out criminal to safety. Meanwhile he's got absolutely no idea what is going on, but he's definitely going to demand some explanations.

For some days after this Petthri's playing bedside vigil in a New Kaineng medical facility. The two have a lot of time to talk. Personal topics. Uncomfortable topics. Lahpp does tell Petthri to go back to Rata Sum, he's beyond caring at this point. Quite frankly he thinks HQ won't care either. Petthri refuses to leave just like that. Asks Lahpp to come with him, he'll be better off away from the Inquest. Obviously Lahpp is not having any of it, he's very well aware the Inquest is as corrupt as it gets, but so is Rata Sum. That's just how the world functions. The Inquest has the meds and tech he needs to survive. He's not leaving. And he certainly doesn't need anyone acting self-sacrificial out of pity. It's degrading.

He tells Petthri to sleep on it and make up his mind the next day.

–

Aaand that is pretty much where the somewhat coherently planned part of my current rat-timeline ends. A glimpse into vague concepts for the future:

Enter a third character to the roster! It's Luqqah, Inquest medic-turned-biochemist. She happened to be in Cantha for a while now, doing her own research. She gets involved treating the injured after the whole Void mess. Naturally she ends up finding Petthri and Lahpp. Lucky for the latter, because she obviously has better knowledge dealing with asura than any of the human medics. And... in fact... she has pretty detailed knowledge about what's up with Lahpp specifically. Dealt with his medical papers in the past. Oh, also... they're exes. Don't worry, parted on good terms. Haven't seen each other since shortly after the Thaumanova meltdown. What a reunion.

So... yeah. It's gonna be trio time from now on. I don't know yet for how long the three of them stay in Cantha, or if they're going to get involved with the whole Gyala Delve storyline (or whatever comes out of it). Lahpp's not doing great, he'll need a while recovering. If he ever fully recovers. Petthri has a few of his own inner demons to fight. Time will tell.

As a conclusion... Petthri's saviour complex sets him on a good path towards a corruption arc while Lahpp's as close to a redemption arc as he'll get. They're both questioning their life and views a lot. Spoiler from the Omniscient Narrator: Both of them will be back in the Crucible. But with more thoughts to think than before. And more time to spend together.

And that's what's currently up with the rats.

[a-commas-a-pause]

Was doing some cursory research about low concentration salicylic as an over-the-counter acne treatment (been having a flare-up, likely due to a combo of stress and shifting environmental factors, and since I'm a terrible skin picker I'm trying to find ways to avoid giving myself scarring without needing to visit a doctor) and as I was scrolling through the Wikipedia page I learned from the epidemiology section that acne apparently affects women slightly more than men:

...and I don't know why, but this really struck me.

I guess I grew up with the belief, picked up from the culture and media around me, that acne was this "greasy teenage boy" problem, in some way inherently unfeminine. I didn't really think boys got it more than girls, I figured that was a stereotype, but I kind of assumed the stats were pretty much equal. And back when I still thought I was a girl, I felt worse about my own acne, since it felt like yet another way I was performing girl/womanhood incorrectly.

Finding out it's actually slightly more common in (cis) women is throwing me for a loop, even though it rightly shouldn't be - that's a very neutral and harmless fact! But you never see acne treated as just a feature of a teenage girl's face, it's always something awful that needs to be fixed (never mind that in real life, you often can't "fix" acne completely, can only manage it). That's not to say it's treated as something positive in boys either - usually boys with acne are also treated as undesirable, be that a loveable nerd or just a creepy loser - but I'm not sure I've ever even seen a girl character with even moderate acne (like I had at that age, though it certainly felt severe at the time) on screen.

I took isotretinoin for my acne in school, which is a pretty powerful medication that is highly effective at stopping acne but also comes with some serious risks - I had to take regular blood tests when I was on it to make sure it wasn't killing my liver. Due to my (mentioned before on this blog, lol) massive phobia of all things medical and spiky, I fainted for every single one of these. On top of that, it increased my already very high (I'm about as white as you can get) sensitivity to sun, so I couldn't go out even on cloudy days without suncream. And it causes birth defects, so they kept making me take supervised pregnancy tests "just in case" for months, until I changed dermatologists and the new one was like "what? why? no, you don't have to do those, just sign a thing saying you're not sexually active and it's not our fault if you're lying about that and you're chill".

It was a Lot, is what I'm saying.

Isotretinoin isn't the first port of call for treating acne - my GP tried several topical solutions and two different kinds of antibiotics (one of which I was allergic to, which naturally, me being me, I discovered by fainting about it. Again. in music class, this time) before finally referring me to the dermatologist who was allowed to prescribe me The Serious Drugs. Moreover, I stand by my decision! I wasn't pressured into taking it by family or friends, I was allowed to make my own choices, and going through all that rigmarole was absolutely my choice.

...I might even have taken the same choice if I'd lived in a society without all this weird stuff around acne, to be honest. As mentioned at the top of the post, I have a skin picking problem and acne not only doesn't help with that, it was causing me actual pain.

But also. I don't know. The societal stuff didn't help at all. My dermatologist suggested at the time that insecurity about my acne might be contributing to my chronic neck and upper back pain, of all things (much like the acne, something that started in my teens but hasn't stopped since I left them), since it might be making it harder for me to stand up straight with confidence. I laughed the idea off at the time, but now... I don't know. It could certainly have been a contributing factor.

I wish I had a call to action here, but I don't really know what can be done about this, especially not at the individual level. This is a societal gender discrimination issue, and I guess an ableism issue as well? I wouldn't normally call my acne a disability, but it is certainly a medical condition, and it does affect my life (and acne can certainly be the basis of unconscious discrimination, though I'm very grateful that that hasn't been something I've faced personally). If anyone has any more productive suggestions, feel free to add them onto this post. And I guess, put characters with acne in your stories? Including women, and including adults! 5% is one in twenty. One in every twenty 40+ year old women (according to that cited study, anyway, which I can't currently verify because my institutional access is fucking broken again) still "have problems" with acne. That might be worth representing.

[logicaldelta]

Me when the brain rots collide and I make the silliest crossover aus known to man

RvB / WoF crossover -- Delta and York

Prince Delta had never been one to be very social. His brothers made many comments about it throughout his childhood, and he wasn't deaf to the whispers that followed him throughout the Summer Palace.

It was rare to see a member of SeaWing royalty on their own. The SandWings made their comments very prominent when the alliance between their tribes was forged. There were many rumours from both tribes, each side trying to discover the supposed "reason" for why this particular prince seemed so reclusive.

They never guessed that he just preferred the quiet. The calm, peaceful moments that he could steal here and there throughout the war were all he had. His upbringing in the Deep Palace was chaos, marred with the stress of war and the secret assassin that murdered his sisters. Prince Delta didn't have time to waste with forging connections. He saw it as pointless. What use was there in growing close to dragons that he may lose to war?

And though he knew that he would be expected to join the ranks eventually, he wasn't expecting his mother's decision on how that would happen.

"You cannot be serious," his scales flashed frantically, shock coming through in the distressed flashing of his Aquatic scales.

"I am." His mother's response was simple, and it was during times like these where he was reminded that he was just one of her many sons.

"But Epsilon wasn't expected to work with them," he argued, faltering only slightly as his mother narrowed her eyes at him.

"Epsilon doesn't need to work with them. He already has his own squadron of SeaWings. You, however, seem opposed to that idea."

"Prince Delta?" His father gently swam between him and Queen Coral, who was beginning to lash her tail in aggravation. Delta nodded to confirm that Gill had gotten his name right. "What your mother is trying to say is that Epsilon is needed here to defend the Deep Palace. But we need you and your brain on the front lines, helping the SandWings."

Delta wanted to continue arguing. He wanted to protest until the queen changed her mind. But he knew it was pointless, especially with his father on her side. He had no talons to stand on.

He took a deep breath, focusing on the water flowing through his gills. "Alright. I'll do it."

Gill grinned, placing his talons on Delta's shoulders. "Excellent! I knew you wouldn't let us down." Despite the pride in his father's actions, Delta couldn't help the sickening feeling in his stomach that grew with each flash of Aquatic.

The SandWings were... not what he had expected.

When Queen Blister had told him that he'd be accompanying her most elite spies, he had expected seasoned professionals. Gruff, big, scarred dragons with tough attitudes, like those in his mother's stories.

Captain York was anything but that. Besides one large scar spanning across his left eye, he looked relatively normal and friendly. He had a big grin on his face, and he sounded genuinely happy to be meeting Delta.

"Pleasure to meet you, Prince Delta! I'm York, captain of Queen Blister's spies!" He proceeded to wink, his scarred eye being the one he chose to close. "But don't tell anyone you've met me, or we'll have to kill you!" He slapped Delta's wing with his own, causing the prince to stumble forwards for a moment before regaining his balance. The SandWing was much larger than him, after all. York laughed good-naturedly, grabbing Delta with his talons to help prevent him from falling. "Careful there! You wouldn't want to get sand between your scales. I've heard the stuff irritates your soldiers."

"I am not just a soldier. I am a prince." Delta held his head high, the way he was taught to when he was younger. "I will not complain about such trivial matters."

"Nice to know, because we," he gestured to his spies, "prefer sleeping in sand dunes."

Delta scrunched up his nose, staring at York in an attempt to determine if he was joking or not. "Unfortunately, I will be unable to join you for that. I cannot be too far from the water when I sleep, or I could become dehydrated."

York grinned at him, seeming amused by his serious tone of voice. "We'll make sure there's a river nearby for you!"

Delta couldn't place the uncomfortably warm feeling within him at that comment, choosing instead to ignore it. "What is your next mission, Captain York?"

"Right." York's smile grew smaller, not disappearing but still making him seem much more serious. "The Queen has tasked us with infiltrating an army camp belonging to Queen Glacier. Apparently, the IceWings have been growing too close to the hidden island of the Summer Palace, and it's with respect to the SeaWings that our Queen wishes to see this dealt with quickly and without fuss."

That was a mission that Delta could easily agree with. The location of the Summer Palace was too important of a secret to risk the IceWings discovering it, and he found himself nodding. "Alright. Where do we start?"

[keeganmantle]

Well, it's been 2 months since that situation, and everything is back to normal, but you might be wondering how I'm feeling right now. Well, at least Tumblr is fine now. I feel fine, but of course I'm never gonna get over what that guy did. In case you don't know what I'm talking about, 2 months ago I got in some beef with this guy. I'm not saying his name since I moved on, but I'll say that I did not start it. I don't know what his deal was. He liked my stuff, said my art was good. He asked about an art trade once which I said no. What did I do to deserve this? Was he mad I turned down an art trade? Was he jealous of my work? I'll never know, and I don't care. Because as time passed, one day I'm just on my computer and I get mentioned in a post where he just keeps going off about me. When he doesn't know me at all! Talked smack about me. What was he so mad about?! Why was I a target?! I did nothing to this man. And I don't care about him at all because he's crazy. Here's why. So I just called him out and blocked him. Nothing too crazy. But then the next morning, I wake up, check my Tumblr, and I get this DM from him. He was using different accounts to harass me. He sent me very disgusting and disturbing art of him killing me. Then said he knew where I lived, knew my parents. Like, how? What a freaking maniac! I should mention he's from China and knowing what they're capable of it should be no surprise.😐

I still don't understand what he's so mad about. He kept saying awful things like he was gonna find me, do horrible things to me, all because I blocked him. If you get so butthurt about someone blocking you that you decide to threaten them, you need some serious help. I have all the evidence of what he did. I took screenshots. They're all over the internet. He was mad at me because he's crazy that's my guess. Because I like to post about my comfort characters so what? They helped me through a lot. I came to Tumblr to expand my social media content and also because Twitter keeps crapping itself. And now thanks to that guy, I kinda have trust issues on here. I'm trying to be careful interacting with people. I just don't want this to happen again. And he made me really scared of DMs. When I was on Facebook 3-4 years ago, I was 17 at the time, a bunch of middle-aged perverted women kept DMing me. It really scarred me. That was the start of me having comfort characters. I just wanna stay away from awful women. Is that so wrong? Also, since I'm in a distant relationship with my girlfriend, comfort characters help me through being lovesick.😊

But yeah, that man has traumatized me. C'mon, he said he knew where I lived, said he was gonna find me and kill me and my family! He's a psychopath! I hope he's doing his own thing now. He should've got off the internet because he came back claiming he's the victim. It makes me laugh. I know I have nothing to worry about as you guys know the truth and I know crazy people usually try to gaslight the whole situation.😁

He said I made up the whole thing. How in the world could I make this up?! He also said I made those drawings. Dude, I don't draw like that! Why would I waste my time trying to make him look bad and make those drawings myself? Why would I do that to myself?! I was just documenting what he was doing. He ruined his own life. I'm not going to apologize. I'm not gonna forgive him. Why should I? He doesn't know what I've been through. And he just cause even more anxiety. Now you see why I need my comfort characters? Because people like him exist. Also I was having suspicions about him. This thing of him threatening me in the Tumblr DMs went on for a few days. He also said to have s*xual fantasies about me. And what he did that made me lose it and end his whole career was something that would make your blood boil too. He sent me something very awful. It was an art of him violating my girlfriend! The love of my life! Then said very perverted things about her and my mom. Now see why I think he's a pervert? A predator? More importantly a r*pist?! He might as well be! You don't do that to people. Words can hurt. Actions can hurt. It all hurts.😥

I love my girlfriend so much. We met nearly 2 years ago. She was a fan of mine. Then we became good friends and then eventually started dating.😊

The whole situation of what that guy did made me feel insecure, but I know that she loves me. She told me so. Our bond is strong. I know she's fine. I feel like we were meant to be. I feel like I found the woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. What that guy did made me really worried about her. I know it was just an art but it felt real. I get very sensitive when it comes to violence towards women. It really makes my blood boil!😡

I still cry a bit from that art. I don't want her to get hurt. Anything about women getting hurt makes me cry a bit. I don't know why, I just don't wanna see that stuff. Especially if it's my girlfriend! Whenever something like Lifetime is on TV and they're playing a movie about a girl getting abused or something I sometimes have to either try to lock my eyes to my screen if I'm on my phone or playing a game, or sometimes just walk out of the room. I'm sorry, I just can't do it. I can't handle it. Just goes to show how much I care about women at least.😁

Really, he knows nothing. He traumatized me. What he did made me wanna let out some stuff I've been holding back or at least wanted to tell you but Twitter limits so much. I can have comfort characters. These female characters helped me remember there are good women in the world. As I still deal with some disgusting cougar moms mostly p*rn bots!😐

Even on here. I got weird DMs of women saying they're h*rny and wanted to chat in a sussy link. Just give me a break! I'm not that kind of man! Anyway, thank you all so much for the love and support. It was a really embarrassing yet traumatizing situation. You don't do that to people! If you hate something, just ignore it! That's what I do. Let's make this year even better. Let's try not to let any mishaps happen. Screw the haters. Lowlifes suck! Love you guys. Thank you.❤️

[kate-m-art]

Gosh it's late, I shouldn't be up and might change my mind in the morning but brain just won't let it go tonight sjdjfk

I just,, I've been going back and forth about sharing these cause on the one hand I'm very emotional about them right now and happy with how the sketches turned out but on the other ajsjfk I'm Very Emotional About Them right now and harder to put stuff out I'm attached to and feel a little self conscious sharing anything heavy but sjdjkf for now I guess

Putting below the cut because,, well, dealing with grief (and also partial nudity I guess)

--------------

First set I was just rambling about it to Arin a lot but I don't know, haircuts have been getting me emotional this week. Theres a few scenarios in our different stories w emotional or significant haircuts, but Maggie's has been on my mind a lot.

Any pics I've shared with modern au Link and Maggie's family you'd see 5 kids, but they actually had 6. Their second oldest son Aster's twin (think we decided her name was Autumn, before Autumn Link was ever a thing) passed away at only a few days old. The loss was awful for both of them, even harder to navigate while still having a toddler and newborn to take care of. Maggie especially struggled with her body still trying to recover from twins. She'd usually be the one between them both to be able to stay hopeful but,, I kinda think she already had a tendency towards PPD and following months really were some of the darkest moments of the lady's life. Grateful that Link was right there for her the whole time.

And yeah, at the point she's just trying to survive, her princess-length hair isn't manageable anymore. Link's been something of a hobby stylist since his teen years, so he helps her with it. Hurts him too though, not because she isn't beautiful in his eyes, he just knows how much it used to mean to her. For as long as they've known eachother, she wouldn't let him dye or cut it and always took extra special care to keep it healthy and pretty.

It took a long time, and the pain never goes away but the two did manage to find peace eventually and keep going (bigger age gap between Aster and Ivy than any of the other kids though.)

---------------

And I guess haircuts got me thinking about visible changes and lots of feelings about these two aging together. Link doesn't always look like a rockstar, chronic illness leaves him pretty weak and frail at times. And then Maggie, I mean the lady had 6 kids, she doesn't keep the same petite pixie figure she had when they met- softer, stretchmarks and scars but- I mean just get really emotional I guess about how none of it is a turnoff for either of them. Just love each other even more deeply as time goes on. Knowing the story and sacrifice their partner's gone through for every "blemish" just makes them find each other even more beautiful then when they met

[strange-eorzean-tales]

A cool breeze blew through Sharlayan, causing boughs of the tree above her to sway. Normally, the desert raised miqo'te would find herself shivering, but she was so lost in thought, her body was numb to the world around her. The only movement from her was an idle thumb tracing the outline of a faint scar on her wrist. It was hardly noticeable unless you were scrutinizing her, but to her the cause was still fresh. Her eyes closed, and soon she found herself drifting off.

A voice called out to her, the words garbled behind the fog of sleep.

"Livia? Livia!" It was her brother's voice calling out, and finally she shot up, alert and present looking around. Just spotting the outline of a figure coming her way with long purposeful strides.

"Livia? Liv! there you are...I was worried when you left without saying anything. Why in the hells are you out here?"

The brown haired miqo'te finally made his way to her, looking her over, checking to see if she was wounded.

The girl turned her head towards him, rolling her eyes.

"Mikh'a, I'm fine. Quit your fussin'."

He heaved a sigh and sat near her, back pressed against the same tree, he glanced up to the foliage as leaves danced in the wind.

"You sneak off a lot. Why?" The question was blunt, and quite unexpected. Livia didn't know how to react at first.

"You hole yourself inside your lab all day, and you're questionin' me on seekin' solitude?" Her lips pursed as she thought, finally she turned her head towards him. "Sometimes I just need to clear m'head. Lots of stuff happens an' ...I just need time t'process it...I guess."

He nodded, "I... Suppose I understand that. I'm sorry."

"Why are you really out here, Mikh'a?"

He was quiet for some time. "The ship gets stuffy. I wanted fresh air."

"...You're hidin' somethin'..."

"Maybe, but it's not anything you need to concern yourself with."

Silence filled the air, though only briefly, as Livia finally spoke up,

"Y'used t'tell me everythin'. We used t'tell each other everythin'....What happened?"

Mikh'a gave a sigh, shrugging a shoulder. "We went our separate ways. Grew apart, endured.....different battles that changed us."

Her brow furrowed at that answer. Not quite satisfied.

"I don't think I changed. You did....th' others....they say things 'bout you. Things I don't want t'believe but....they've b'come m'family. I trust them."

"You don't trust me?" He asked,

"....Not like I used to...how could I? You've been gone for long, with nary a letter 'bout your whereabouts."

There was more silence, both miqo'te anxiously waiting for the other to speak.

Mikh'a sighed and looked over to Livia, who stared back with those wide green eyes, filled with hurt.

"Shit... Liv... I couldn't. Everything I've done was... I wanted to. My studies were....arduous and the situation I was in...the man that took me away he...he wasn't a good man. His true colours exposed once he knew I couldn't get away. He used my attachments against me. Used *you* against me."

Livia's ears folded back and she shifted from her spot, turning to face Mikh'a.

"What... What do y'mean?"

His eyes narrowed and he looked off to the distance, "It's... Not really something I want to talk about, but...just know what I've done...*everything* I have done was just to give you a better life. I don't think I've succeeded."

"Y'can only control so much, Mikh'a."

He fell silent, shaking his head in disagreement.

"I'm sorry for failing you, Livia. I'm sorry for continuously failing you...."

The girl shook her head. "Don't do that. I'm th'one that pushed for you t'go away. We can stay here all nigh' jus' blamin' ourselves but... Maybe... Maybe it's time we jus' move forward...yeah?"

He cast his sister a look from the corner of his eye. "...Aye....I can try that..."

Livia pushed herself up from the ground, quickly dusting her pants off. "Good. Let's get outta here. M'freezin'."

He sighed and followed along, "If you took better care of yourself..."

"Yeah, yeah...whatever."

With that, the siblings returned to the airship.... Playfully bickering the rest of the way.

[lighthouseborn]

Character Survey

basics.

name: Henry James (Swann) Turner (and I'm not sure he'd have much reason to give it this way but if you were to throw a 'Sparrow' in there he would not object)

nicname/s: I have yet to encounter any, actually. His name doesn't really lend to it? and I don't think anyone has chosen anything that isn't one of his given names, yet? If they have I forgot it I'm so sorry.

age: mid-twenties vibes these days, 23-25 thereabout

species: Human (...son of a psychopomp, which sometimes seems like a Something, but also not really? Blurry. Human and mundane and normal in all the ways you need to worry about.)

personal.

morality: lawful / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

religion: No formal adherence to any structures, and he's not much of a praying type either. He's got some superstitions and general beliefs, they just... don't necessarily steer him into thinking any of the things that exist are things he would give sway of his choices to.

sins: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath

virtues: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

known languages: English, Mandarin & Malay, Shipwreck's Pidgin, Latin (or some bastard form of it, at least), Greek, many many many partials via a mixture of exposure, study, and educated guesses based on the languages he has a firm grip on. Loves loves loves languages. Descendants verse has a sign language he's getting good at. Modern verses,,, I don't know if he knows any sign languages but he'd be excited to learn if he doesn't!

secrets:  

physical.

build: scrawny / bony / slender / fit /athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average

height: 6'0" (1.83m)

scars / birthmarks: So many. Most tend to be covered, except the ones on his face and neck and hands. And the one on his face is fairly faint. I have not moved the scar chart to this blog yet (and I've been thinking of redoing it) but it is viewable [here.] [And also here for the D:BH verse, which is different, but it definitely needs updating.] I think there's also a Descendants verse one but I've lost it. It's around somewhere.

abilities / powers: Disarming puppy dog energy. (That's a joke it's not a real superpower or anything but it is true he's got a knack for being just. very earnest in a way that encourages people around him to put down their guard (or at least let him, specifically, through it.) This is not an intentional effort on his part. Like I mean sure he wants to be trustworthy but I mean he's not purposefully trying to trip or trick or manipulate people into liking him he just. Is how he is and it's very open, and it tends to endear people. (Or drive them crazy, or both s;ldkfjg;dlkfgj.))

restrictions: Hates feeling trapped or cornered into things and will bite and claw and kick about it; not a huge fan of enclosed spaces for this reason (it looks like claustrophobia sometimes and it's technically true he doesn't enjoy little bity tiny spaces, but it's less about them being small than it is about the enclosed/trapped feeling.) "How is this a restriction" it makes commitments something of a challenge and also literally being trapped or tied down, etc., can cause legitimate panic if he can't see a way out of it.

favorites. 

food: Curry! He's not especially picky about what kind, he's always interested in a curry. Also most fruit! But specifically a big fan of mango and lychee.

drink: Spiced tea. (Like, true teas blended with spices, not teas mostly made of spices, but that second thing is cool too.)

pizza topping: I sincerely doubt he's picky at all in any way about pizza.

color: He's got a lean for jewel tones and earth tones, especially blues and greens, a measure of gold, and the occasional red or burgundy. 

music genre: He's not crazy into music but generally prefers simple vibes, vocal pieces and acoustic guitar and memorable verses, stuff you can hum and carry around in your head.

book genre: Myth stuff for sure. I think even before he became obsessed with the Trident he was just into stories and legends as a kid, the kind of stuff that makes the world seem mysterious and magical, and he just. Never outgrew it. He's got a liiiiittle bit of a history lean, but more for sociology-esque things than like, foreign policy and infrastructure and war facts. The things that unite people, rather than push them apart.

movie genre: Modern Henry is a tv/movie hater sry (he gets bored with it really easily.) 

curse word: Despite what people say of sailors he really doesn't tend to swear very much? Typically only if he's very frustrated, which usually ends up aimed at an inanimate object, which usually means he's saying something along the lines of "this BLOODY (thing)" which is fairly mild all things considered. He's definitely dropped a few 'damn [it]'s and the occasional "for fucks sake". Arse is probably part of his lexicon but I feel stupid/wrong when I try to use it lmfao 

scents: Fresh outdoor air, especially coastal. Florals are nice! (Plumeria & hibiscus & orchids & irises) Brewing tea. Book smell is a good smell. He doesn't know this is what it is but cocoa butter.

fun stuff.

songs: [There's a a whole playlist for this] but big ones include: Wild I Am by Vocal Few , Eulogy by Charlie Allen , Seven by Sleeping at Last, Rubik's Cube by Athlete, Give It Up by Cody Fry, Here I Am by Brian Adams. [There's also actually a second playlist for this.] ...[And this one too.] ;dkjg;ldkfjg;kj (There's reasons for them to be on separate playsts it's just. very hard for me to articulate why.) [This is the angsty one] though that's pretty straightforward.

aesthetic: patches of sunlight and coastal winds and waist high grass waving in the wind and lanterns and lamplight and tropical flowers and the heights of a ship's rigging and adventure through uncharted places and books and sketches and maps and shells and walls papered with thoughts and trinkets and hammocks and humming and cliffsides and dancing and stories by the fire and port wine and rum and spiced tea and warm sturdy hugs and light linen shirts dried in the sun and flushed sunkissed skin and. more but my brain stopped working and this is already quite a list. you get it though you get the energy,,

sings in the shower: Hmmmm I feel it's unlikely but humming is possible?

likes puns: ..Neutral about them? (Hetty thinks they're funny though she likes to harass him with puns sometimes.)