#i hope this makes sense its mostly word vomit

[kissingghouls]

The Prince

Part Five - The Hungry (ao3 // one // two // three // four)

Vampire Terzo x F!Reader

Summary: With Primo's help you and Terzo try to find a solution to save your vampire. (21500 words I know. I'm sorry.)

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, BLOOD, horror themes, vampire violence, vampire bites, blood drinking, major character injury, vomiting, magic, SMUT, unprotected sex, and more tags on ao3

apologies and thank yous at the end 💜 xo Ghouls.

 Part Five – The Hungry

“Did you sleep well, piccolina?”

Primo’s deep voice carried from the far side of the kitchen barely audible over the rumble of thunder outside. It was somewhere between morning and afternoon, though the storm made it difficult to tell one from the other. Heavy rain pelted the stone walls of the cottage in a steady thrum in time with the howling winds. This type of scene used to be so comforting, but now watching water bead and trail down the windows just seemed to make you anxious. Sitting across the room and trying to make small talk with Primo Emeritus didn’t seem to help either. As kind and inviting as he was, he was still a complete stranger. An immortal stranger with superhuman strength you were supposed to stay far away from. Instead, he’d insisted on baking cookies for you.

Shaking your head, you jolted a little as the kettle began to scream from its spot of the stovetop. Sleep had been the furthest thing from your mind after Terzo’s spell. A full night’s rest would have been a dream, but there was no getting comfortable in this situation. How long could you be safe here in the middle of nowhere? How long would they wait this time?

“Primo, can I ask you something?” You wondered aloud, hoping the impending conversation would drown out the sound of the storm and your own thoughts.

He inclined his head, silently urging you to continue. A loose piece of his long, white-blond hair fell over the painted lines of his face as he moved; the rest was carefully tied back with a thin black ribbon. His focus remained on the pale green kettle in his hand as he transferred water into a dainty teapot at the edge of the counter. He moved with such precision, yet still maintained some impossibly delicate grace—the opposite of the way Terzo carried himself. There were other differences—far more than you could count—but where Terzo’s softness was an edge blunted by time, Primo’s seemed to be gently blurred into everything he did.

A flash of lightning filled the kitchen with bright light, the bank of windows on the eastern wall providing the perfect vantage point. You shuddered as thunder followed, too close and too loud for your own comfort. The storm blew a gentle breeze through the cracked windows and the ceiling fan above dragged it further in as it spun in lazy, lopsided circles. The kitchen smelled of florals and tea and rain, feeling like a Sunday afternoon you shouldn’t have access to. Everything was a little too dreamy, made fuzzy by a filter tinged with warm yellow-green like a flashback to someone else’s nostalgic past.

Someone else’s life. 

“Why settle in this place?” you asked, vividly recalling the cracked asphalt and sun-bleached everything you’d passed on your way through town. “Why…here? The secluded cottage makes sense, but why live at the edge of some abandoned nowhere town?”

He turned to look at you for a beat before reaching for two teacups. “Well,” he started as he dropped a teabag into the pot. “It wasn’t always abandoned, piccolina.”

He set a cup in front of you before joining you at the table, a sigh leaving his lips as the wooden chair creaked beneath him. “This town…it used to full of a unique vibrance that drew me in. I suppose on some level I grew comfortable here, much like the other remaining residents. But mostly I stayed for the work. That’s what I told myself anyway. I have no doubt that Terzo would have you believe otherwise, but immortality can be incredibly mundane. When I found myself in this little town, I watched it grow from nothing just like I had done with a thousand other little towns in my lifetime. But this one—it was easier to fight that feeling of boredom here, to find a purpose. I chose to put my energy toward something, to have a common goal with the people here while I could. There’s a darling botanical garden on the edge of town, built something like seventy years ago, give or take. I helped fund the project.”

“Really? So, it had nothing to do with the cute girl that delivers your groceries?” 

Black and white paint may have covered his entire face, but you could see Primo’s ears turn bright red. “That—she—hmph. She wasn’t even born yet. Neither were you for that matter.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not the reason you stay.”

“The garden— “

“Sure, sure,” you teased. “Work, work, work.”

“Don’t start picking up bad habits from your beau, piccolina,” he warned. “Youth is wasted on the young indeed.”

“Not if you have an eternity to do something about it.”

He laughed quietly as he poured the most delicious smelling pink tea into each cup. “I forgot how much I enjoy such a human point of view. What of you and your eternal boytoy, hmm? What will you do when this is all over?”

You shrugged, pausing to consider his words. “Haven’t really thought that far. I think…I think I’d like to do all the things I never could before. No matter what happens I can’t go back to my old life—I wouldn’t want to go back, knowing what I know now. If I have to build a new life, it might as well be a better one than before. And if that sounds good to Terzo, then I’m happy to try building it together.”

“Hmm,” he replied with a thoughtful nod and faint smile playing on his lips.

“Belleza, I am happy to build you anything you want. But boytoy? Is that really what you’ve settled on, fratello?” Terzo grumbled as he appeared in the doorway, half-asleep with pillow marks on his face. He dropped into the seat next to you with a heavy sigh and rested his head on your shoulder. “Is that really all I am to you?”

“No. Sometimes you’re more of manbaby,” you replied and kissed the top of his head. “It’s ok though.”

“Ugh, I am so glad you two are getting along,” he teased sarcastically. “You are a bad influence on her, Primo.”

“Me? What did I do?” Primo mused as he took a sip of tea.

“You encourage her—”

“Ah.”

“—to be mean to me,” he whined. “What happened to that wide-eyed naïve girl from before, hmm?”

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” you responded flatly.

“Ah, yes. What happened to the fierce and terrifying woman who pretended not to be watching me sleep every night?”

“She met an unbelievably arrogant vampire.”

He sat up and shot you a big, toothy grin. “Oh, bellezza, was I your first?”

Primo groaned loudly and pushed away from the table. “Whatever you’re trying to do fratellino, do not do it in my kitchen.”

“Ah, calm down old man. I’m only teasing.”

“You were the one I liked enough to save. Even with your baking skills.”

Primo nearly spat out his tea. “Oh, Terzo, tell me you didn’t.”

“I was trying to do something nice for you, bellezza. But fine, fine. Let’s all pick on Terzo!” he grumbled as he stood. For a split-second the life left his eyes, the light within him dimming like a flickering lightbulb in a haunted basement. He was completely blank—jaw slack and body limp. Primo crossed the room before you could even think to react, rushing over to keep his brother’s body from collapsing to the floor. Terzo recovered just as quickly, coming back to himself as he stumbled slightly. He wrenched himself out of his brother’s hold and glared at him, teeth gritted.

“Fratellino—"

“Don’t,” he hissed. “I am fine, Primo.”

“Clearly you are not. How many more times has this happened?” Primo asked, looking back and forth between the two of you.

You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow. It had been a few days since the incident in the bedroom and—as far as you knew—he had been completely fine ever since. If he’d started having spells again, this was the first you were hearing of it despite the promise he’d made. “Terzo?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, face washed with guilt as he concentrated on the floor and shrugged. “It… it’s happened a few more times now.”

“A few? What the hell, Terzo?”

“It was only for a couple seconds, bellezza! It wasn’t like the other times!”

“That’s not the point!”

“She is right, fratellino,” Primo agreed gravely. “You should have told me this was still happening.”

“Oh, do I need to report every detail of my life to you now? Would you like to know exactly what we did last night?”

Primo’s teacup flew from his hands and hit the sink, bursting into dozens of porcelain shards. He was so angry he was shaking; his white eye seemed to glow with his fury as his face darkened. You and Terzo jumped as he began to shout. “Satanas, Terzo you are still so stubborn!”

“Bellezza,” Terzo started quietly, moving between you and Primo. He placed a hand on your cheek and lowered his voice. “Would you please excuse us for a moment?”

You nodded silently, searching his eyes for any sign of worry as he urged you to go. You’d barely made it a few steps out of the room before the argument properly started. As you moved through the cottage their voices turned from hushed tones to an almost violent sounding shouting match. The escalation had them rapidly switching between languages to find the right words to fit their ire. None of it made much sense to you, so you let the bedroom door close behind you with a soft click.

No matter what you and Terzo had tried, the little bedroom still carried a faint smell of dust and disuse. The humidity had been so bad that leaving the windows open was hardly an option. At night when the heat broke the sounds of insects droning in the woods was so loud you could hardly think. By the time the storm rolled in, you’d given up completely on trying to air out the room.

You collapsed on the creaky old bed, balling the ancient quilt in your fists. It was still happening. Whatever they’d done to Terzo, whatever poison they’d created this time was still living within him. Things were already complicated enough, but if Terzo was still effected after this many days you knew it would only get worse. If he was hiding it from you, maybe they already had.

A tear slipped down your cheek. You’d been through so much together in such a short time, so many fucked up situations that most people would never have to think about. In some way it made sense if he didn’t trust you yet—you understood that, especially with the way the two of you had ended up together. What you couldn’t understand was why the thought of Terzo not trusting you hurt so much. Why it felt like hot knives in your chest, the searing painful burn of unease. Maybe you hadn’t done enough to show him he could trust you. Maybe he never would. You pressed a throw pillow over your mouth to stifle your cries, endlessly embarrassed by whatever this fucking feeling was.

A soft, barely audible knock on the door signaled the end of the Emeritus screaming match. Terzo said your name from the other side, speaking so gently you knew he had heard you crying.

“Bellezza? May I come in?”

You swiped at your face, brushing away whatever stray tears were left as you called out, “is that some kind of vampire joke?”

The door opened a crack, just enough that you could see his eyebrows pull together in confusion. “We don’t—that’s not a real thing.”

“I know. It’s ok, you can come in.”

He shuffled into the room and closed the door behind him. As he reached the foot of the bed, he dropped to his knees and laid his head in your lap.

“I’m terrible at this,” he admitted quietly.

“At what?”

“Apologies…relationships…honesty.” He sighed heavily. “Vulnerability.”

“None of those things are easy, Terzo.” You ran a hand through his hair as he nuzzled his face into your leg. “I’m not good at them either.”

“You deserve better than me—”

“Don’t say that.”

“I just mean…you deserve a better me than I’ve been lately. I should have told you.”

“Do you trust me?”

He looked up and locked eyes with you. “With my eternal life, bellezza. With everything I am.”

“No more secrets, ok? I want to help you, but I can’t if you keep hiding things from me, Terzo. It…it fucking hurts.”

“I am so sorry, bellezza. So, so sorry. I will tell you everything, anything you want to know.”

-x- Four Months Later -x-

Primo’s house smelled sweet—like sugar and fresh vanilla mixed with roses flowering in a gentle breeze. But underneath the pleasant scent was a hint of copper, a warm metallic tinge that permeated absolutely everything. Your entire life was covered in blood; it coated your borrowed clothes and seeped into your bedsheets, hanging in the air like a permanent red haze. You couldn’t get away from it if you tried. The taste settled on your tongue, bitter and harsh without the sweetness of Terzo’s kiss to wash it away.

Even the gardens felt wounded, the lifeless and bare shrubs now naked against the chilly autumn wind. The surrounding woods had turned as red as everything else, a dying fire against a cold, grey sky. It was hard to stay hopeful on days like this, hard to see beyond what looked like the end of the world.

Your world, anyway.

This was not how things were supposed to go. Stillness fell over the property, stretching past the woods to blot out the stars. You sat at the end of the path, knees in the dirt as you tried to decide your next move and the world just…carried on around you. Time and nature weren’t bound by the same crushing weight that followed you day-in and day-out. They just kept moving. Kept changing.

You dug your hands into the soil, grasping for something—anything—to distract you from the tears slipping down your cheeks. You were so tired of crying. Tired of thinking and feeling and being while just fucking waiting. Waiting for months with only uncertainty and pain to keep you company during the day. Waiting and watching as your lover struggled and grew weaker. You wanted to scream, wanted to scream so loud and for so long that even the old gods were forced to watch you cough up blood. It wouldn’t help but it would be something, anything that didn’t feel like this.

Something that didn’t feel like mourning.

“Do werewolves have big teeth?” you asked him, genuinely curious. Of all the things you’d come to learn about, you still had trouble wrapping your head around your sweet elderly neighbor transforming under the full moon.

Terzo gave you a half-smile as he rolled onto his side. “Not as big as mine, bellezza,” he replied suggestively, practically purring in your ear. His hand fell to your hip, pawing at the bare skin as he nipped at your neck.

“You are the absolute worst,” you groaned, but you didn’t mean it. You never did. These moments with him—these silly little conversations shared in the afterglow with bare chests and sweaty skin—you’d give anything to keep each other here forever.

“Ah, but not five minutes ago I was the best you’d ever had, no?”

“I never said that?”

“Excuse me—"

“It’s true, but I never said it. Wouldn’t it be kind of fucked up if you were bad in bed? Like how many years have you been doing this? A couple thousand?”

“Bellezza, I am not that old,” he grumbled.

“Well, that’s a shame. I’ve been into older men lately.”

“Better only be one man.”

“Aw, Terzo are you jealous?”

“What if I was, amore?” There was hurt in his tone, a seriousness that bit into you with venomous fangs.

“Terzo—”

“I’m sorry, amore mio. I know this isn’t easy for either of us, but—”

You cut him off by covering his mouth with your hands. “You are the only man for me, Terzo Emeritus. Do I need to show you again?”

A warm hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you back to the dying garden. Primo didn’t even flinch as you flung yourself at him, tears and dirt staining the silk of his fancy robe. He’d never mention it; Primo never once asked you to stop feeling, never told you to pull yourself together or chastised you for being an embarrassment to the organization. Primo Emeritus—a man you were taught your entire life to fear above all others—only ever offered you a shoulder to cry on.

And if that wasn’t enough, he’d simply offer the other.

He held you tight, quietly humming some centuries-old forgotten lullaby as your tears ran their course. He wouldn’t speak until you were ready. He never pushed or insisted that this would pass. He just waited to hear what you had to say. It took you a long time to get used to that level of empathy, for his simple acts of compassion to not feel like ulterior motives. But eventually you realized he couldn’t fix you any more than you could stop him from being a vampire. He only wanted to help you.

“It’s not fair,” you managed between sobs. “It’s not fair.”

“No, piccolina, it isn’t fair,’ he agreed, smoothing a hand over your hair. “It’s too much for either of you. But I swore to you I would help, sì?”

You nodded numbly.

He knelt in front of you, grinding more stains into the material of his robe as he placed a hand under your chin. “I would not lie to you, piccolina. I will save Terzo. No matter the cost.”

“What do you mean the cost?” you shot back, voice trembling.

He tutted softly and patted your hand before helping you to your feet. “Nothing you need worry about, my dear.”

“Primo,” you leveled. “What are you—”

“Hush now, piccolina. Why don’t we wake the sleeping beauty? We can discuss things together later, eh?”

You nodded once, knowing the vampire would hardly take no for answer. But something still ate at you, gnawing away at whatever sense of calm you had managed until you were nothing more than an exposed nerve. No amount of Primo’s wisdom or comfort could help you with this one. 

“Could I—can I have a minute alone with him first?”

“Of course,” he replied with a kind smile. “Would you care for some coffee?”

“Yeah.” Before he could get too far you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Primo.”

It was too small of a phrase for all those feelings, but someday you would find a proper way to tell him how much this all meant to you. For now, you hid your sniffles behind your hands and waited for the older man to disappear back inside before gathering the courage to face Terzo alone. 

Over the last few months, the little room at the back of the cottage had slowly become something like a home. Your home. A cozy space you and Terzo had carved out of Primo’s infinite kindness and filled with odd, yet beautiful things from Terzo’s past. A collection of his vintage clothing and accessories had been stashed away in a closet, pieces from another time left here to idly wait for him to return. Neither Terzo nor Primo had shared why he sought sanctuary here those years ago, but rediscovering his old treasures made him so happy you didn’t need to ask. You trusted him to tell you when he wanted to.

If he ever wanted to.

Your feet dragged over the rug, the soft fibers adding some kind of familiar constant in this new life of maybes and what ifs. With a deep breath, the scent of clove and cologne filled your lungs, a warm combination you’d grown so fond of. Some days you went as far as spritzing the cologne on your own wrist to feel closer to him while he was stuck like this.

As much as this place was home, it was also a mausoleum. A place your lover was laid to rest, spending most of his days in a state somewhere between life and death.

Terzo lay on the bed, his eyes closed and his skin dull and grey. His lips had turned a horrid shade of blue made that much worse the longer he “slept.” It never really looked like he was sleeping—his sleeping face was so much more expressive than this empty vessel version of Terzo. Primo once said it had something to do with circulation, trying to explain the line where science met magic to form their physiology. You listened, but it never made much sense to you. You didn’t need to know. All you needed was for your immortal undead boyfriend to be not dead.

No matter how hard it was, your days weren’t always spent in some lonely pit of despair. When Terzo was awake he was still the same old Terzo—effortlessly funny and charming in a way you had never expected. He seemed intent on making your life together as normal as it could be, still trying desperately to woo you with grand romantic gestures straight out of those movies he loved. Some nights you’d stay up well past an acceptable hour, just listening to him share stories from his questionable past, tales of “years ago” that could have meant 3 or 300 years. There were other nights the two of you poured through a book about the history and architecture of Meliora House, marveling at photos of the grandiose mansion in its heyday. He would have you close your eyes and pick a random page before telling about each room in incredibly vibrant detail. While you never stopped being impressed by your boyfriend’s ability to recall so many things over so many years, your heart broke for him that such a big piece of his past had been destroyed forever. How many other things had he lost to time in 900 years?

You made it your mission to create as many memories as you could in that little bedroom with him.

Sighing heavily, you climbed into bed and pressed as close to Terzo as you could. You gently brushed a few wayward hairs from his face, hating how cold his skin felt under your touch when he was stuck like this.

“Sorry I was gone so long,” you whispered, laying your head on his chest. You would’ve given anything to hear him take a breath, for him to wrap an arm around you and hold you tight and kiss you so hard your lips bruised. Sometimes you wondered if you just wished hard enough or found the right god to ask…

“I know you said you can’t hear me when you’re like this, but there’s something I really, really want to talk to you about,” you whispered. “And I’m afraid I won’t be able to when you’re awake. If you’re awake…then it’s real and you’ll hear it and you’ll know. But if I don’t say it, if I don’t tell you…what if you never get to hear me say it? What if you never know? If you never get to hear it because I was too scared to say it…well, that’s no good either. So, what do I do?” y ou asked with a laugh. “I mean, I know what you would tell me to do, but it’s just…I don’t know. I guess it really isn’t that easy, huh?”

You reached up and kissed his cheek as you considered your options. You’d traced every line and crease of the man’s face, memorized every mark and scar so thoroughly they might as well live on your own skin and it still wasn’t enough. You had watched him for so long now—before you’d ever met him—and you could still spend hours just studying someone so beautiful it made your heart hurt.

He deserved to know you looked at him the same way he looked at you.

“I love you, Terzo Emeritus,” you confessed quietly. “And I’m going to tell you to your stupid, handsome face. I will tell you every day, whether you can hear me or not because it won’t change how I feel.”

You swiped away a tear and cuddled closer to Terzo, holding him for what felt like hours. It wasn’t enough; it was never enough. As Primo knocked on the bedroom door, you buried your face in his chest to hide your emotions from the other vampire as much as you could. He’d seen you express everything from rage to grief and back already of course, but if you could spare him one more pep talk you would certainly try. As he shuffled in, the smell of strong coffee began to overwhelm the subtle hint of soap and sweat that lingered on your lover’s skin. No matter how hard you wished you could stay and get lost in him you knew it was no use.

Primo’s slippers scuffed against the hardwood, cups rattling on the same tarnished tray he carried in every evening. Ambling through the room, he set the tray aside and gave you a half-smile before producing a glass vial from his pocket. You sat up and offered your left arm, the right already bruised to hell from previous draws. You hated this part, hated that this had become so routine. You couldn’t get away from the smell of blood, but you’d grown numb to the sight of your own.

The next part was always easiest. A bandage for your arm and a regiment of supplements and vitamins to keep you healthy. Things that kept the blood strong, Primo had told you when it became clear this was headed toward an everyday occurrence. You swallowed the pills down and accepted the cup of expensive coffee the older gentleman had made for you.

The two of you had bonded so much in these shared albeit terrible moments. You doubted he would be so quick to let you into his life without the forced proximity, but Primo never seemed to be bothered by having you around. It didn’t take long for you to understand that he was a balancing act, a man on a highwire with bound hands and nerves of steel. But those feats of strength could not hide the worried, emotional side of a man several hundred years your senior. There was something in the way he had leaned into this caregiver role, something that suggested there was more to his story than what he was comfortable sharing with you. But there were times that he would share, absently recounting stories from his own past. He once told you how Terzo had become frighteningly ill as a child, somehow remembering that very same fear of his brother at death’s door though several centuries had passed. He swore to you in a moment of raw honesty that just as he had done everything in his power to save Terzo as a boy, he would not stop until he saved him again.

And he promised that Terzo never had to know how much you cried.

“Did you two have a nice talk?” he finally asked, turning away. He hunched over the tray and jabbed a spoon into the thick, noxious mixture of tea and herbs whatever else he used to bring Terzo back to life.

You shrugged, not willing to make any more confessions for the day. Instead, you ran a hand through your hair and gave a noncommittal sigh.

“You should rest, piccolina,” he warned with a sigh of his own. “What would he say?”

“He’d probably call you an old man,” you replied, wiping at fresh tears with the back of your hand. “Or he’d put on his grouchy voice and mumble the equivalent in Italian to get under your skin. What’s that thing he always says? Testa di Cazzo?”

Primo chuckled. “Yes, I suppose he would call me a dickhead. Lovingly, of course.”

You managed a small smile before the tears threatened to fall again. “I really miss him, Primo.”

“I know you do, cara. I miss him, too. Though it is nice that someone finally found a way to shut him up for a minute.”

You snorted out a laugh. “Primo!”

“Just trying to lighten the mood, piccolina.” He knelt in front of you and made sure he had your full attention before he spoke. “I will cure him,” he assured you. “I promised you, sì? And I am nothing if not a man of my word. I know finding a solution has taken more time than any of us would like, but—Bah! Let’s wake him, eh?”

You nodded and looked down at your hands. You’d bitten your nails to the quick and ripped your cuticles to shreds over the past few weeks, your body trying so hard to fight off the anxiety that threatened to swallow you. There was dirt deeply embedded under your nails from digging into the ground out of desperation. Pieces of earth still stuck on your skin like tiny reminders of your every fear. “Please don’t tell him—”

“I would never betray your confidence, piccolina. Are you ready?”

You drew a deep breath, centering yourself before giving him a firm nod. Moving to the other side of the bed, you propped up Terzo’s body as much as you could, fighting against the dead weight and stiff muscles. You slid behind him, wrapping your arms around his chest to hold him in place while Primo readied the last ingredient for that awful elixir.

The smell was terrible, an overpowering punch of rust and dirt and the potion stuck to the inside of Primo’s teacups like roofing tar. The final ingredient had to be added seconds before consumption, like the half-life of shots of fine espresso but not nearly as appetizing. Primo nodded once to make sure your hold was strong before removing the stopper from the vial.

Terzo’s eyes shot open as the smell of iron flooded the room. Wild, hungry sounds erupted from Terzo’s mouth, feral growls that only grew louder as Primo moved closer and poured your blood into the mixture. The older vampire took his brother by the jaw, forcing his mouth open enough to pour the tea down his throat.

What used to take seconds now took a full five minutes. Every day you waited longer and longer for the vampire’s rigid body to relax and fill with warmth again. When it finally did, he melted into you with a happy sigh. Smears of blood and flecks of herbs clung to the corners of his lips as they stretched into a smile.

“Amore,” he whispered dreamily. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Primo pushed the cup into Terzo’s hand before ruffling his hair. “Drink the whole thing, Terzo.”

“I will,” he whined. He made a face as he took another drink and struggled to keep the liquid down. “Augh, happy?”

The older man said nothing as he turned and left the room.

Terzo quickly chugged the rest of the mixture before he turned and nuzzled into your chest. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

And there it was, the last thing you wanted to hear ever again. You groaned and pushed him away, climbing to your feet. Tired of having the same conversation, you slipped into the bathroom to hide the fresh tears that filled your eyes. Primo offered you an out after the fits gradually became worse. He told you that you were free to leave, that if you wanted you could go on and start living a new life. He said you didn’t owe Terzo anything, you got him this far and that was more than enough.

You’d never been more offended in your entire life.

Part of you understood it was out of kindness, that Primo didn’t want you to sit and watch Terzo “die” over and over and over. As nice as it would have been to avoid, you couldn’t help but think how panicked and hurt Terzo would be if he one day woke up without you. The thought broke your heart into a million little pieces, just like it broke you heart that there were still days like this. Days when he’d wake up ready to push you away. His misguided, half-hearted attempt to spare you from this never ever worked. Sometimes you could even joke with him about it, but today…today, with dirt from the dying garden still stuck under your fingernails you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“Bellezza,” he whispered softly as he appeared behind you, almost panicked.  He wrapped his arms so tightly around your middle there was nowhere else to go as his lips hovered near your ear. “I’m sorry, my love, amore mio. So sorry.”

You nodded and learned against him as the walls of that tiny bathroom began to close in on you. “Terzo—”

“Forgive me, amore?” he asked, pressing a kiss into your cheek. “Please forgive me.”

You turned to face him, staring deep into his odd, beautiful eyes. It was too hard to hold onto all that sadness when he looked at you that way, when he begged you. Your request was a whisper, a desperate plea in the silence of the room for him to just kiss you. He crowded you against the wall like he had done so many times over the course of your relationship and captured you in the most devastating kiss just as you’d asked. It was easy to get lost in him like this, to forget the awful trial he was being forced through and each painful day it meant for you. To forget all of it and let him be Terzo and only Terzo. You craved the way his touch quieted your mind, a gentle reminder that he was still here—that he would still be here.

It doesn’t take long for the spark to catch—it never took long with the two of you—and before you knew it, he was on his knees in worship of you. And maybe he did worship you, but you didn’t ask. You didn’t say much other than “please” and “more” as his fingers traced over every inch of your skin, committing you to memory on that bathroom floor.

It was slow and soft and you think Terzo Emeritus might be the only person who could ever fuck you against a wall and still call it “making love.” But you know that’s what he’d say because that’s what it is for both of you. You couldn’t stop yourself as he dragged his sharpened teeth across your collarbone and looked at you through heavy-lidded eyes, so blissed out and alive. It escaped you like so many of the tears you had tried so hard to hide from him and it hung over your heads as Terzo stared back at you, unblinking.

“What did you say, bellezza?” he asked, eyes wide and hips still.

You brought your hands to his face, holding him there. “I said I love you, Terzo,” you repeated, though you could hardly believe you’d said it yourself. “I love you.”

“M-me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Oh, bellezza.” His mouth crashed against yours, clumsy and hungry as he tried to kiss you a thousand times all at once. “Love you,” he managed to say between breaths, directing most of his concentration toward carefully laying you on the floor. “I love you,” he repeated as he repositioned himself over you and slowly slid his cock back into your heat.  “I love you…and you love me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you warned.

“Too late for that, amore mio. You’re there forever now.” He grinned down at you and pointed at his chest. “And here too.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a fucking sap.”

“Sì, but you love me.” He made a point of circling his hips to watch you writhe and keen under him, smiling the entire time.

“Terzo, please.”

“Anything for you my love,” he whispered into your ear before changing his angle and beginning to fuck you in earnest. As he drove each thrust home, you could see stars in your vision. That white-hot passion that had always burned between you was a flare, a lifeline you could follow back to safety, to someone who loved you. To someone you loved.

He held you close as you came, his fingers digging into your hips as your own clawed at his back. He followed soon after with his face buried into your neck, his breath almost instantly cooling your heated skin. He stayed between your legs, lazily mouthing at your collarbone as you both came down from the high, completely addicted to each other.

“I’m so sorry, bellezza. Please, please forgive me,” he begged once more, finally resting his head on your chest. His hair fanned out, sticking in odd patterns to the sweat on your skin as he lay claim to you once more.

“I already have,” you admitted softly, carding a hand through his messy hair. “Shower?”

He nodded. “In a minute.”

You granted him as much peace as you could on the patterned tiles of the bathroom, silently lying with him and holding him close until he was ready to start the day—though it had to be close to midnight by then. Things seemed to move slower in Primo’s house, as though time itself had its claws in the two of you. Even tiny gestures like Terzo’s fascination with washing your hair could never be rushed no matter how much shampoo he managed to get in your eyes.

You were the same way, of course. Taking care to steady your hand before tracing the angles on his face in that black paint. It was no small task, especially not after he explained the meaning behind it. Every time he would tease you about the serious expression you wore while trying to even out the lines on his nose, taking this delicate, intimate part of his life and making it into some silly game. And you let him, finding yourself unable to stop doing anything that made him smile. Even if that meant you were now in charge of buttoning his shirts for him half the time.

Part of you missed those ridiculous crop tops.

-x-

Terzo settled his hip against the counter, watching closely as you moved through the next part of your routine. Preparing his midnight “breakfast” fell on you as Primo very quickly forbid him from using any of the appliances, some unspoken memory of a culinary disaster shared between them with a knowing look. Carefully, you poured the contents of a blood bag into the mug that previously held your coffee. Try as you might, you could never get Terzo to explain why he liked sharing your cup, he simply asked that you did. It was one of his more reasonable requests.

With the cup in the microwave, the two of you watched the faded design slowly spin in the ancient wood-paneled machine. What once read “Everything’s better in” some town was barely legible after at least a decade’s worth of runs through the dishwasher. The cottage was full of things like that—old and yellowing, well loved, but still functional. You cracked a smile, thinking about how similar your 900 year old vampire boyfriend and a microwave from the 1980’s could be.

“What’s so funny, hmm?” he mused and pulled you into his arms.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” He squeezed your sides, tickling you until you let out a high pitched squeal.

“Stop,” you managed through a giggle. “You wouldn’t like the joke anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but the ungodly howl of the microwave timer cut off anything he was about to say. He reached for the cup and took a long pull, savoring the rich taste of A Positive with his eyes closed. A pleased hum rumbled in his throat as he tried to lick away the leftover traces, but a deep red line formed above his upper lip.

You smiled and let your eyes trail over every little line and soft ridge buried under the paint. Such fine details were only visible up close when he was painted, but you liked the way they added a softness to the harsh angles. You reached over and swiped your thumb across his lip to wipe away the blood mustache.

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

Terzo stared back at you wide-eyed. After a beat he nodded and lowered his gaze, staring into his substitute meal with a hint of shame.

“I know, bellezza,” he offered quietly. “I’m sorry. I just—sometimes I can’t understand why you would stay with me.”

“Yeah, well. If you have to ask, you’re dumber than you look.”

“How dumb do I look?” he shot back, deeply concerned.

“Oh, bello.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You don’t look dumb. At all.”

He beamed at you. “Bello?”

“Sì, bello. Bellisimo, even.”

“I love you, bellezza, but your pronunciation is terrible.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned. “Testa di Cazzo.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he tsked.

“Said the vampire with a blood mustache.”

“Straws are bad for the turtles, bellezza,” he informed you, his mouth set in a deep frown. “I saw it on the news.”

“Ha! I’d believe you could fly before I believe you watched the news.”

He sighed. “Ok, fine. It’s something I heard Omega say once.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He was so warm after he ate that you couldn’t help but relax against him. “Do you think Omega and Alpha are enjoying their extended vacation?”

“I doubt they’ve ever been happier. They’ve asked for a swimming pool for Christmas for the last, oh, thirty years?”

“Do you even celebrate Christmas?”

“No! Which makes it that much more irritating when they ask—"

“Hate to interrupt,” Primo chimed in as he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Feel free not to then,” Terzo shot back with a wave of his hand. “We’re busy.”

“Apologies fratellino but it cannot be helped. There is something we need to discuss.”

“No,” he replied with a frown. “No ‘discussions’, no tests, no nothing. Not today, Primo. Please?”

It was Primo’s turn to frown, deep creases forming between his eyes and around his mouth. He looked older somehow, more wrinkled and tired than he had a few hours ago. His body appeared almost frail, like a distorted reflection of the way Terzo had become brighter and livelier.

“Primo, are you ok?” you asked gently.

“Always, piccolina,” he replied dismissively. “Now, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Could you two join me in the lab?”

Terzo sighed heavily and knocked back the rest of his breakfast in one gulp. “Do we have a choice?”

“No,” Primo responded simply.

Together you quietly made your way through the back of the house and down the set of stone steps that marked the boundary of the original cottage. A large glass conservatory stretched across the back of the property; an addition made sometime later where Primo spent most of his time these days. The air in the structure was sticky and humid, heavy with the heat of the day still trapped between the thick panes.

You settled on the small sofa hidden amongst the massive leaves, the pollen from the fresh blooms making your nose itch as you looked around Primo’s makeshift laboratory. A worktable that should have been used for flower arrangements and propagation was covered in countless glass flasks filled with odd concoctions and a colorful assortment of potions. Some bubbled under the heat of an open flame, while others slowly dripped into a new container like moonshine being distilled in some prohibition hideout. Each mixture had been crafted by hand while Primo consulted some dusty old tome, working tirelessly to keep his brother alive. You weren’t sure if it was basic chemistry or some magical alchemy the old vampire had his hands in, neither would really surprise you.

“What is it you want now?” Terzo asked, clearly annoyed by Primo’s insistence. “More blood?”

“No, fratellino. You should sit down.”

He looked nervous, hands trembling slightly as he sat and sank into the sofa. It wasn’t an expression you were used to seeing on the carefree vampire’s face, even when things had been at their worst. Something in Primo’s tone scared him, which only made you frightened in turn. You slipped your hand into his, fingers intertwining in a silent reminder that you were there with him. That you loved him.

The exposed skin of his hands glowed with warmth—with life. You were glad to see him feeling better. Looking better. But Primo’s solemn expression cast a dark cloud over everything in the room. Whatever he had found, whatever he needed to say didn’t look good.

“Fratellino, how do you feel?”

“Better than you look,” he replied in a suspicious tone. “Why do you ask?”

Primo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Terzo…this isn’t easy—”

“You can’t fix it,” he whispered.

“No, Terzo that’s not—” he rushed. He paused with a sigh, searching for the right words. “What’s happening to you—the poison is…complex. It took a great deal of time to break it down and discover all the components—to understand why our temporary solution treats the effects, but hasn’t made any improvements toward ridding your body of this thing—"

“You’re blaming my body for this?”

“Of course not. Will you let me finish?” He snapped harshly.

 “Fine,” Terzo huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as he pushed further into the sofa.

“Mi dispiace, mostriciattolo,” Primo replied quietly. “My temper is harder to control right now.”

You felt him tense beside you as he cautiously looked up at his brother.

“You…you haven’t called me that in at least 100 years,” he noted in a whisper.

“Fratellino, do you remember what I told you when you were young?”

Terzo nodded once and wiped away a single tear with the back of his hand. Another memory shared wordlessly between two almost ancient men. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Our enemies underestimate us,” Primo replied grimly. “They think I won’t do what needs to be done. That I—have never faced such a harrowing challenge in all my lifetimes. Surely that is the only way to survive this long, sì? Fear in the form of self-preservation. That I would choose my life over yours.”

“What are you saying, Primo?”

Primo shrugged. “The thing that binds us to each other, the thing we need to survive—they underestimate its power too. I would die to save you, Terzo. I would do it all over again without question. And that makes our family different. It is how we are bound that gives us power.” He paused to look at you. “How we can be bound to another. Our blood possesses properties humans have never dreamed of. The trouble is it will take a great deal of our blood to fix yours.”

“Like how much?” you asked nervously.

Primo didn’t answer, instead he lifted a hand to silence you as his eyes darted around the room. The faintest noise came from outside, barely more than a rustling in the grass just outside the conservatory’s walls. Both men were immediately on edge, their fangs bared in warning as something—someone—moved around the building.

“Stay here,” Primo commanded firmly before making his way toward the door.

Terzo moved so quickly it felt like missing frames in a sequence, your brain struggling to process his actions. He pressed a knife into your hand, swiped from somewhere on Primo’s table. You stared at the thing, blinking slowly until the realization hit you. Danger. Someone had finally come for your vampire.

Silently, you eased behind Terzo and prepared to strike at whatever—whoever—might present itself. You held your breath, straining to hear anything while Primo moved through the side door, his long, white hair disappearing into the darkness.

A feeling crept down your spine—forgotten yet so familiar—winding your nerves tighter and tighter like a loaded spring trap. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, dialing your senses to eleven as you scouted the room. Your pulse raced uncomfortably as the chemical tried to take over your body and mind, every cell screaming for you to fight. To run. You’d spent most of your life training yourself not to be afraid, but that was easier said when the only thing to lose was your own life. But now, with Terzo—with the man you loved—standing before you, that sense was heightened.

There was a desire to throw yourself in front of the vampire—to protect him. No matter what it might cost you.

A shadow formed in the doorway, a large and imposing figure looming in the dark. You readied yourself as it stepped forward, prepared to fight off whoever had come for you. Light hit the solid form and the familiar image of harsh black and white paint in a shape you didn’t recognize became clearer. The man leaned forward, squinting as he scanned the room.

Terzo let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he called out, “Secondo?”

You felt your heart stop as Secondo Emeritus focused solely on you. With each determined step he ignored Terzo’s shouting and shoved him hard as he passed. He crashed into the sofa, the frame completely shattering from the impact and the sharp snap of solid wood bursting into pieces became the soundtrack to your false sense of security coming to an abrupt end.

Secondo had a hand around your throat before you could move—before you could think. He squeezed hard, cutting off your air as he dragged you across the room. Tears welled in your eyes as you helplessly kicked and tried to free yourself. But it was useless. He was strong, too strong. It took no effort for him to haul you up and pin you to the wall.

He stared you down, teeth gritted and eyes filled with malice. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just snap your neck right now, little hunter,” he ground out, fangs flashing with each pointed word.

Fear and pain surged through you, swirling its way around the adrenaline already poisoning your blood. Your lungs burned, screaming for you to take a breath as his fingers flexed and threatened to crush your windpipe. Years of training flashed in your head, every weakness and warning you’d ever heard. What good was any of it now that you were actually faced with an Emeritus vampire?

Maybe, maybe you deserved to die at the hands of a vampire, but you weren’t ready to find out.

You reached out and slashed at him with the knife. The blade easily sliced through the fancy material of his suit and into the soft flesh of his forearm. Again and again you cut into him, but he still wouldn’t let go. With a growl, Secondo wrenched the knife from your hand and stabbed it into the wall a hair’s width from your head. The placement was no accident. It was a calculated move to let you know that Secondo was going to kill you slowly and without mercy.

In one last desperate attempt you jammed your fingers into the wounds you carved, hoping it would break his hold. A warm rush of blood oozed around your fingers, but the vampire didn’t even flinch.

A choking sound escaped your mouth as you fought for each breath, tears streaming down your face. “Ter—"

There was a blur of movement followed by a sickening snap and you hit the floor hard. You grabbed your neck, sucking down desperate breaths as soon as you realized you were free. But how?

Secondo clumsily stumbled backward in surprise; his arm now bent at grotesque angle. Bone and sinew poked through his shredded sleeve as blood dripped onto the conservatory’s stone floor. With a great howl of pain, he pushed a protruding broken bone back into its rightful place and rounded on Terzo.

Terzo crouched in front of you, spitting and snarling like a wild animal. His teeth made a horrifying sound as he threateningly snapped his jaws at his brother. “If you ever put your hands on her again,” he growled in warning, his voice low and terrifying. “You will beg for death.”

Secondo offered him a sick smile as he stepped forward. “I would love to see you try, little brother.”

Terzo rose to his full height, squaring off with the taller man. He was almost an entire foot shorter and his slight frame made Secondo look even more muscular in comparison, but size and scale hardly mattered when it came to the strength of vampires. As old as they were, they were both powerful and possibly deadly to each other.

Secondo’s smile didn’t falter as he took another step. “Do you really think you can stop me before I get to her?”

“Would you like to find out?”

“Boys!”

Primo’s voice rang out so loud it rattled the large windows in their frames. The noise reverberated through the domed structure, bouncing around as Terzo and Secondo completely stopped in their tracks. The vampires were now frozen in their battle stances, refusing to take their eyes off one another but neither dared to move.

“I won’t tolerate you being at each other’s throats, so you might as well get over it now,” he instructed before turning to Secondo and pointing a bony finger at him. “If you touch piccolina again, you won’t be answering to Terzo.”

Secondo narrowed his eyes but otherwise stayed quiet as the warning hung between them.

You scrambled to your feet, keeping your back to the wall as you watched for the next threat. A surge of panic ripped through you as a woman in a designer outfit appeared behind Primo. She gently brushed past him with a small nod and a hand placed carefully on his arm, an ornate ring on her finger catching the light. The gems sparkled like stars in the way only real jewels could before they were hidden under the velvet sleeve of her jacket. She moved with such elegance, even as she rushed to Secondo’s side and delicately held his arm to examine his wounds. He tried to shake her off, earning himself a stern look from the smaller woman that seemed to fix him in place. He cupped her face with his non-bloodied hand, quickly mumbling an apology and something else that brought relief to her face. They exchanged a look—the kind could only exist between two people who were deeply connected or deeply in love—before he pressed his forehead to hers. Secondo’s entire being, this massive, monstrous threat, seemed to completely melt away under her touch.

Peeking out from under her collar was the faint line of a scar. You quickly realized who she must be. Reginetta, as Terzo called her, Secondo’s little queen.

What had happened to them was no secret among the hunters. Time after time you heard about how some rogue group had infiltrated his club, ransomed his assistant, and set fire to the building. How they had nearly succeeded in taking him out in the process. It was a fairy tale full of corpses and poisons, one Terzo didn’t like to discuss at all, but in your time together you had heard the other side of the story. How the hunters had tried to turn love into a weakness and forced Terzo and Secondo to watch as they stabbed his girlfriend. You knew all about how utterly helpless Terzo had felt, how it haunted and changed him from a man you suspected didn’t have a care in the world to one who carried the entire weight of it alone by the time you met.

Somewhere within the ruins of Meliora House, Terzo had also kept a couple of Lucy’s teeth.

You weren’t a part of what they’d done, but you were hardly different. Terzo was in this whole mess because of you—because you also foolishly decided to try to take out the most powerful vampire family in history. And for what? The was no glory, no noble cause. There was just some bullshit sense of victory and justice fed to you for years. You never questioned it, not even once. Not until Terzo directed his attention toward you.

There was nothing about you that was worthy of his love and yet, he gave it freely. He loved you—a pitiful, undeserving mess of a girl with blood on her hands and next to nothing to offer him.

You tried to swallow it down, to make yourself as small as possible and disappear. A wounded cry left your lips as you thought about all the damage you’d done. All that pain and heartache inflicted for centuries by hunters just like you.

He turned as you whimpered, moving faster than your eyes could follow. Holding you tight to his chest, he began to whisper a thousand apologies into your hair before you could even think to protest. You didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve him, but he was right there with you. Fighting the urge to sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Everything the two of you had been through, every errant feeling or emotion you’d pushed down bubbled to the surface and threatened to drown you. You were afraid. You were worried. You were annoyed and happy and loved. You were so, so loved. And you were the safest you’d ever felt—the only time you’d felt safe in your miserable little life—here in his arms. That thought—that knowledge burned brighter than any of the nasty things you could tell yourself about your former life.

Terzo loved you. He’d said it a million times and now you finally understood what it meant. And you’d fight to the death to hold onto it.

“You’ve got real shitty people skills, Twos.”

You lifted your head to search for the voice. Another couple appeared, gracefully making their way into the conservatory. Gold accents adorned their coordinating outfits, glinting in the soft light as they moved. The delicate fringe of their epaulets swayed as Count and Countess Copia gave their surroundings a once-over. Their painted faces hid their expressions, but their military dress suggested they were here for something serious. Terzo however, wasn’t nearly as stoic. As Copia took a step forward, Terzo let out low, warning growl.

“Oh, calm down, fratello,” Copia called out with a dismissive wave. “No one’s going to hurt you or the girl.”

“Honestly,” the Countess started and turned to Reginetta. “How on earth do you put up with him?”

It was Secondo’s turn to growl. “She’s a hunter,” he grinded out.

“Yeah,” the Countess laughed. “A teeny-tiny little hunter in a room full of Emeritus vampires. What exactly did you think she was going to do?”

“She can speak for herself,” you spat as you tried to untangle yourself from Terzo’s arms.

The Countess let out a deranged giggle. “Not if I snatch out your tongue—”

“You’re not going anywhere near her. None of you are going anywhere near her,” Terzo sneered.

“Oh well,” she hummed and turned her attention to Terzo. “Terzo! It’s so lovely to see you dressed like it’s this century.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Well, Sorella, I lost most of my things in a fire and had to run for my life.” He gestured toward her clothes. “What is your excuse for this?”

She flashed her fangs and hissed.

“Amore don’t tease a dying man,” Copia urged, and steering her away by the shoulders. He casually dropped onto the broken sofa, barely noticing the splintered wood at his feet. “Do you have any sort of burial ensemble in mind, fratello?”

“No, because I’m not dying,” Terzo corrected. His fingernails dug painfully into your skin as he buried a much angrier reaction.

“Are you sure? You look terrible,” Secondo teased, ignoring the pinch he received from Reginetta.

“If you’re not dying then why did Primo call us?” Copia asked. “Primo, why did you call us?”

“I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t,” Primo muttered with a groan. “Frankly, it’s embarrassing that none of you can be in the same room for more than two minutes before you start acting like children. I called because Terzo needs help, your help—”

“And not because you’re trying to show off in front of the little hunter, hmm?” Secondo challenged coolly.

“Mind your tone, fratellino,” Primo warned, accompanied by a low growl as he stepped toward his brother.

“Oh, here we go,” Copia grumbled with a roll of his eyes and leaned forward to grab a sharp, broken piece of wood. He tossed the makeshift stake at Primo and Secondo’s feet, issuing a challenge of his own. “You ever see a real vampire bloodbath, little hunter?”

“Enough!” Terzo screamed. His entire body shook with anger as he looked around the room, staring each of his brothers down. “You said we’d be safe here,” he spat at Primo. “You promised me.”

“You are safe here—”

“That stronzo grabbing bellezza by the throat is your definition of safe?” He let out an uneasy laugh as he turned to Copia. “Make your jokes, Copia. By all means, please have another laugh at my expense. But let me ask you what would you have done, hmm? What would you have done if Secondo had stormed into your fucking castle and grabbed the Countess like that? If he had threatened to take her life instead of killing a room full of people so the two of you could live happily ever after, huh?”

“Well, I—” Copia started, but Terzo angrily waved him off.

“I don’t want your fucking help,” he stated tersely. “We don’t need any help from any of you if this is how you’re going to treat us. If this is how you and Secondo plan to repay me for fighting your fucking battles I don’t need you here.”

“Terzo, hang on—” Secondo tried.

“No!” Terzo snapped. “If none of you have any interest in helping, just go back to wherever the hell you came from. Leave us in peace. Let me die in peace.”

“I’m sorry,” Secondo offered softly. The room fell completely silent as he took a few careful steps forward and placed a hand on Terzo’s shoulder. “Mi dispiace. I’m sorry, Terzo. I didn’t mean to—"

“I don’t need your apology,” Terzo grinded out and shook him off. “You owe it to her.”

You shook your head, finally finding your voice. “He was only trying to protect you, Terzo.”

He whipped around with an incredulous look. “He tried to—”

“I know,” you replied quickly, cutting him off. “But I don’t blame him for that. I don’t expect him or anyone in your family to trust me. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me. The things you’ve all been through…It doesn’t matter how much you trust me; I’ll still have to earn it from everyone else. You just need to know the only thing I care about is helping you and if that’s why they’re here—if that’s what Primo needs to fix you…” you trailed off and shook your head. “I couldn’t care less about what happens to me.”

“I care about what happens to you, cara mia,” he whispered.

You offered him a faint smile before pressing a kiss into his cheek. “I know you do.”

“Well, if that’s settled. Is anyone hungry?” Primo asked loudly.

-x-

The cottage had never felt so full of life. A kitchen full of Emeritus vampires, both new and old, were all finding their rhythm as part of the task at hand. Primo and Secondo were singing at the top of their lungs, beautifully harmonizing some old Italian love song while effortlessly crafting a meal completely from scratch. Copia had shed his military jacket in favor of a novelty “kiss the chef” apron while he hovered over a simmering pot. Every few moments he would look up to make heart-eyes at his Countess while she and Reginetta stood nearby, hard at work attacking a cake recipe.

It unfolded like a scene from one of those silly films Terzo loved, a dynamic portrayal of a family that only ever seemed to be found in the most idealistic fiction. Your family, what little there was, had never once committed such an act of togetherness. Even Terzo—who was barred from helping in any meaningful way—flitted around the kitchen refilling glasses of wine and slipping into conversations like the perfect host.

He watched you from across the crowded kitchen, wearing a look of warmth and light and pure love that felt almost tangible. Without missing a beat, he seized the opportunity to take your hand and pulled you into the eye of the storm, making sure you were also a part of the greater Emeritus chaos instead of on its fringes. Primo shot you an encouraging smile as the ladies turned to ask your opinion on attempting something called “Italian buttercream.”

Maybe it was better that your family wasn’t like this, that you had never prepared a single dish that wasn’t frozen or had any idea there was more to frosting than the stuff that came in a plastic tub. Until now, you only had a vague idea of what you were “missing out” on, pieces of that “perfect family” that never seemed real to begin with. You doubted you would have been able to appreciate it for what it was prior to this past summer anyway. But now, hearing the sounds swell around you in that small kitchen meant more to you than anything ever had—including that limited edition sweater Terzo was still hellbent on replacing.

The sense of calm extended over a dinner served around 4 a.m., but it was anything but quiet. Laughter was shared around the table just as much as the food. Copia and Primo scrambled to find their most embarrassing memories of Terzo through the ages like a mother showing off baby pictures to a prom date. Secondo remained distant, though he didn’t ignore you completely. Once Reginetta had warmed up to you, he even began to use more than one word to reply.

The extent of Terzo’s situation was revealed over a dessert eaten with tiny forks. After one too many glasses of wine seeped into everyone’s bloodstream, Primo laid out what he’d discovered to an audience of vampires stunned into silence. Terzo buried his face in his hands while Secondo angrily shot up from the table and began pacing the length of the dining room. 

Paying his brothers no mind, Primo outlined the rest of his plan. He’d found a solution, albeit a dangerous one. A mix of vampire blood, a rare plant, and a little bit of magic was all he needed, a list of ingredients you couldn’t quite comprehend. You tried your best to follow along and understand exactly what was needed to save your love, but the plan was so heavily flawed you couldn’t focus on anything but how risky the whole thing was. You weren’t as strong as the others, nor were you immortal, but you knew how to strategize and how to fight. You had an intimate knowledge of how the hunters’ network operated and everything Primo had laid out looked like walking into an obvious trap.

“So, this plant…you’re saying one of the only places to find it just so happens to be your little town’s botanical garden?” you asked. “I’m guessing this is the very same garden that you personally funded?”

“It is the same, yes.”

“I don’t like this, Primo.”

“I don’t understand,” the Countess interjected. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s too easy,” you and Secondo answered, almost in unison.

“Well yeah. But we could just kill them,” she replied with a huff. “Problem solved.”

“No, problem not solved,” Secondo growled back. “Are you even listening?”

“I agree we should kill them, dear Countess, but I must insist that we do not go charging into this. We will need every single body with a pulse that we can find, or we might not make it back from this. They will most certainly be waiting for us and they’ve had months to plan for our arrival. Hell, they’re probably watching us right now.”

“Ok but I do get to kill them, right? Like, after everything? Vampire snacks?”

“Who is going to stop you, amore?” Copia cooed, petting her face with a gloved hand.

“Bellezza,” Terzo started quietly. “Are you going to be ok with this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, isn’t it possible these hunters might be people you know?”

The other discussions in the room fell away as the vampires waited for your reply. There was a definite possibility that people you once knew wanted you dead, but they were part of another life completely. Even if you hadn’t fallen for Terzo, they tried to kill you. You didn’t know if it was direct or just collateral damage, but the point remained the same. The hunters placed no value on your life or his, or anyone else in the room for that matter. They didn’t care what happened to any of you as long as they got the job done.

You took Terzo’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “If they are people I knew, they’re part of my past. They’re not people I want to know anymore. Honestly, if came down to it, I’d burn the world down to save you.”

“That’s not part of the plan, correct?” Copia asked nervously. “Don’t get any ideas, amore.”

“Must every plan involve all of you walking into an obvious trap?” Reginetta asked voice shaking as she pushed herself up from her chair. She turned and made a quick exit from the room, letting the front door slam as she escaped. 

“Tesorino, wait,” Secondo called out, chasing after her.

“She has a point, you know,” Terzo added sharply, rising from his own seat. “It’s not like this sort of thing worked out well for us last time.”

“Terzo, this is different,” Primo offered.

“Oh, you’re right. This is worse. Much worse. This time we don’t have Mary, Alpha, or Omega here to help—”

“I’ve summoned Earth and Air—”

“Fantastic. Why not call everyone so you can host a proper family reunion at my fucking wake.”

Primo slammed his fists on the table. “I’m not going to let you die, Terzo!”

He sighed. “If you want to yell at god old man, be my guest. But my time is limited and I’d rather be doing anything else, so I am going to bed. Bellezza, will join me?”

You nodded once, too lost in your own thoughts to even think about sleeping. “Yeah, just um, give me a minute?”

He frowned, worry lines setting deep in his forehead. He wasn’t very good at being alone these days, especially when your time together was growing shorter by the day. That night in your apartment flashed in your mind, his soft confession about quiet being too much for him to handle. Everything you’d done since you met was to keep him safe, whether you realized or not. But were you really doing enough? Why did it sound like he was giving up?

You placed a kiss on his cheek on your way out of the room. The garden called to you once again, its empty husk now an old friend as you winded your way down the path. In the distance, the horizon was painted a streak of brilliant pink, announcing the arrival of another new day. A tear slid down your cheek as you tried desperately to steel yourself, flexing your hands into fists to keep from screaming. 

Primo had figured out a way to help him, but you couldn’t help but think of what might be lost in the process. There wasn’t much you could do about it if this was what Primo wanted—it had never been clearer that he was in charge and whatever he wanted was the plan. But the possibility of something going wrong was so obvious even the others had spoken up, though it didn’t change anything. If the hunters were as prepared as you suspected, you would be outnumbered by an enemy armed with stakes, fire, and poisons that could literally stop the vampires in their tracks. 

Was it all supposed to be some hopeless task? A trial designed for none of you to survive? You weren’t going to let that happen, couldn’t let it happen. You’d fallen hopelessly head-over-heels in love for the first time in your life and no one was going to take that away from you. All the silly plots to Terzo’s favorite movies finally started to make sense. You were so terrifyingly in love with Terzo Emeritus that you would do whatever it takes to keep him. Forever.

“It’s beautiful out here, huh?” A gentle voice asked behind you. As you spun around, Reginetta put her hands up to show she was no threat. “I’m sorry,” she started. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes I forget how easily we can sulk around in the dark.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Um, where’s—”

“Secondo?” she finished for you. “Secondo is taking a very long walk in the woods.”

“Ah. Is everything ok?”

She smiled faintly. “I won’t try to make excuses for his behavior. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you and frankly, he’s a centuries old grown ass man—He just…I hope you can believe me when I say that he loves his brothers even if he has a very odd way of showing it.”

You nodded once. “I understand. It’s…complicated.”

She laughed, her voice high and light like she was the mirror opposite of the man she was trying to defend. “Complicated is certainly one way to put it. I don’t know how much Terzo has told you and it’s not necessarily my place to share either, but there were long stretches of time where they were all living secluded lives. They cut themselves off from the world and from each other, but when everything…happened,” she paused as she fought back tears. “Terzo and Secondo blamed themselves for things that were so beyond their control. I blamed myself for—well, that’s another story. The point is, I’ve never seen Secondo as scared as he was when he heard about the fire at Meliora House. Not even when I was bleeding out in front of him, because that—that he could fix. But if Terzo had been in that house…if Terzo was—”

The tears she’d held back began to pour down her cheeks as she flung herself at you. She wrapped you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt as she mumbled into your hair. “You saved him. You might not have any idea what that means for this family, but I can tell you it means the world to me. And I know you mean the world to him.”

“It’s funny, you know? I love him. I’ve never loved anyone. I love him so much it hurts sometimes and I…I never really thought that was possible for someone like me. It sounds stupid but I think he saved me more than I saved him.”

“The Emeritus brothers are funny like that. I don’t think I ever even let myself dream of someone like Secondo.”

You cracked a smile. “Like a vampire?”

She laughed again. “I will admit that was a surprise. Did you know the Countess was a nun? It’s probably safe to say none of us could have predicted the path we would end up on. But the vampire thing…that’s only a part of who he is—part of who they are.”

“And you.”

“Yeah,” she replied with a nod. “And me.”

“Can I ask…” you drifted off, wondering how invasive you question might be.

“What is it like?” she finished and waited for you to nod in return. “It’s…different. I imagine it’s different for everyone, but once you get used to the new teeth it’s a little easier. And having someone who loves you walk you through it is infinitely easier than I imagine doing it alone would be. But as different as it is, you’re still you. Maybe a little,” she stopped to wave a hand, “amplified, but at the core you’re still everything you were. I sleep easier now, my dreams are a bit brighter. It’s not what I would call a carefree life, especially right now, but I don’t regret making that choice. Not for one fucking second.”

“Tesorino?”

You both turned to find Secondo leaning against the gate at the entrance to the garden, wearing a look of worry under his paints. Reginetta’s face lit up as bright as a thousand stars as she held out her hand to him.

“Hello, my love. Are you feeling better?”

“I am, thank you,” he replied and joined her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He shot a quick glance your way before taking a deep breath. “Sorellina, I—my behavior—”

“Oh.” You waved your hands. “No, no don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

“No, sorellina, it is not okay. Please, please don’t tell him I said so, but Terzo was right—that was no way to welcome someone to our family. It was spite and cruelty that was directed at the wrong person entirely. I’m afraid right now I only have words to offer as an apology, but I hope that will be enough, at least until this whole thing is over.”

“It’s—uh—thank you, Secondo.”

“There. Was that so hard?” Reginetta teased, poking at his side. He flashed his fangs.

“You know, for what it’s worth you were actually pretty terrifying,” you offered.

He almost smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Just please don’t make me stab you again, ok?”

“I think you mean let you stab me—”

“Ok, we get it,” Reginetta cut in. “You’re a big, strong scary vampire and no one can stop you, my love. But it is getting late or early—either way we should all go get some rest.” She moved quickly, wrapping you in another tight hug. “I am so glad we finally got the chance to meet. Goodnight, sorellina. Sleep well, ok?”

-x-

Terzo was sprawled out on the bed, lazily flipping through channels on the TV with his mouth set in a hard line and his shirt missing. The rest of the family could be heard shuffling around overhead, their muffled voices asking Primo for incidental things like blankets or the WiFi password. In only a few hours the cottage had turned from a secret hideout to a well-populated ancestral home, transforming into a place where the Emeritus brothers could feel and act like a “normal” family. You smiled to yourself, realizing you’d landed in the middle of some bizarre vampire version of those stupid movies Terzo loved.

He looked annoyed and tired, but with his shirt off and his sweats low around his hips he also looked exactly as he did when you first met. You weren’t sure if it was the sudden arrival of his entire family or something else making him so grumpy, but even in a cranky mood he was still the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Thinking about it now, you never really stood a chance.

“There you are,” he huffed and turned, stretching his body like a cat in the sun. A tiny grin betrayed whatever feigned irritation had been on his face moments before as he patted the space next to him. “Come to bed, bellezza.”

How could you ever turn him down? You shed your clothes and crawled into the bed, pressing as close to him as you could get. He was still so warm and soft, not yet showing any signs of the poison’s horrible effects. You cupped his face, urging him to focus on you. “I love you, Terzo,” you whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing that,” he admitted softly and brushed a hair away from your face. “I love you too, cara mia.”

“You promise?”

His brow furrowed. “Bellezza? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just—I think—I have something to ask you. And I don’t think you’re going to like it, but I need you to hear me out.”

“I don’t like where this is going—”

“This isn’t something that’s going to be easy for either of us, but if this is what it takes…if walking directly into the lion’s den is our only option to save you, we have to do everything we can.”

“Bellezza, you don’t need to worry—"

“Terzo, I want you to turn me.”

Shocked, he stared back at you unblinking. “No. Absolutely not. No.”

“Terzo—”

He sat up and made a few nervous passes through his hair with his hands. “Bellezza, no. It will kill you. Do you understand that? You will die, to death.”

You sighed as you sat up to meet his eyes. “I know.”

“Then why would you—”

“Because if we do this…no matter what happens I won’t stay dead. It’s…the simple truth is that I love you,” you admitted. “And I will do anything it takes to protect you, even this. Especially this.”

He brought a hand to your face and traced his thumb over your cheek. “It should be me protecting you.”

“Do you think really I can’t take care of myself?” you asked teasingly. “We promised we would save each other and I intend to keep that promise. Forever.” You leaned into his touch, letting your eyes close as he continued to stroke your cheek. “I’m going to make them pay for what they did to you.”

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you’re angry?”

“Uh, yeah. You.”

“Come here, amore mio,” he asked softly. Carefully you climbed over him, legs straddling either side of his hips as you settled in his lap. “They were very foolish to make an enemy of you, but what you’re asking for…it can’t be undone. It is forever in a way that I’m not sure you understand—”

Your face fell. “Is that what you really think? That I’m not capable of grasping the concept of an eternity with you? That this is just some sudden whim and I haven’t considered the consequences? I have had nothing but time to think about these things since we got here. And half of that time I have spent without you, waiting every day for you to wake up and being terrified that you won’t. I have considered forever and it’s fucking scary, but I am so much more afraid of losing you.”

“Bellezza, I’m not going anywhere. Now that I have found you, I will never leave you.”

“Then why is it so crazy for me to feel the same way?”

“It’s not. It’s just—what if you wake up one day and you want a normal life, eh? That’s not something I could ever give you.”

You leveled your eyes with his. “I’ve never had a normal life. You and me? We aren’t normal people.  We never have been and we never will be. I don’t want normal, Terzo. Why would I want normal when I have what we have? I want this. I want you. I want to help my very, very handsome vampire boyfriend survive. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Ti amo tanto, amore mio.”

Your eyebrows pulled together. “You love what?”

“I love you, bellezza. So much,” he cooed and reached up to cup your face. “You are the love of my nine lifetimes and I will do anything for you.”

“Even this?”

He nodded slowly. “Even this. Forever is a long time, cara mia— “

“And it still won’t be long enough, bello.”

He smiled brightly, his sharp fangs on display. “No, but then I will have forever to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me.”

You smiled. “Well, somebody has to.”

“They don’t, but I am very grateful that you did.”

“Well, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner and that I haven’t really said it enough, but I want to be able to tell you everyday. For the rest of your eternal life.”

“It would be our eternal life, bellezza.”

“It will be our eternal life.” 

“Have you been hiding a romantic side all this time, hmm?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned in close and pressed the softest kiss to his lips. “No, I must have picked it up from you.”

“Ah, I see. Well, in that case I’ve been an excellent teacher.”

“How do you stay so humble?”

“It’s a gift, my love,” he replied with a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “So, how does this work?”

Terzo’s brow furrowed as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m not entirely sure, bellezza. I know the basics—I drink from you, you drink from me, you die, you come back—but beyond that I’m not sure I could explain the mechanics of it all. Believe me, I wish I could give you more answers. Perhaps Primo could explain it in more scientific terms. But if this is truly what you want—”

“It is.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Whenever you’re ready, bellezza.”

“I’m ready. I love you, Terzo Emeritus. And I’ll love you forever.”

He leaned in, catching your lips in a sweet, tender kiss that said more than he could at the moment. He held you close, hands desperately clinging to you like it was the first time or the last time he would ever get to touch you like this. In some ways it was, but only as something fleeting, something temporary. The end of something that could give way to something so much more.

If the two of you would be forever, you’d have to start somewhere.

You barely felt his fangs cut into your neck. He had always taken such care in moments like this, always treated you like the most precious thing he had ever handled. To him, you were—and he made sure you knew every day since that first time you’d saved him. You could tell from the way he hummed against the wound on your throat his worship of you had no end. And maybe he had loved you from the very moment he saw you. Maybe you had loved him right back.

It flashed as your heart slowed, every moment the two of you had spent together replayed in your mind. Screaming at each other in the rain. The night in the garden. The kitchen. His stupid princess bed. Your entire life had led you to those moments—some bizarre, unexpected turn in your destiny had landed you here and now with the man you’d die for. A tear slipped down your cheek as your pulse grew faint, leaving you feeling dangerously calm.

Terzo pulled away and brought his wrist to his mouth, pausing as he looked at you. “Bellezza?” He asked, his voice thick with concern. “Amore—”

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you assured him. “I just never thought I would be this happy.”

“Bellezza, you must drink from me now. Ok?”

You nodded, wincing at the sound of him biting into his wrist. He brought his arm to your mouth, encouraging you to drink as much as you wanted. As his blood flowed past your lips, you were surprised by how different it was. Terzo’s blood didn’t taste like sour metal on your tongue. He tasted like the way he loved you—warm and sweet and as endless as the edge of the universe with a heavy dash of something you couldn’t quite name. It was like drinking down something ancient and ethereal, yet just as familiar as every song or poem, book, or film you’d ever loved. As intangible as starlight and thick as honey, he tasted of beauty and joy and life.

You drank as much as you could, not wanting to waste a single drop of this gift he’d given you. It coursed through you, warm in your stomach like Kentucky bourbon and just as dizzying. You slumped against him, unable to hold yourself up any longer as his blood began to merge with your own.

“I’m here, bellezza,” Terzo whispered softly, smoothing a hand over your back. “I will always be here.”

A million questions formed and swirled around in your head, unable to travel the distance across the synapses. As they dissolved and fizzled out, your breathing slowed. Terzo kept talking, offering gentle declarations of love, but his voice began to drift until it was too far away to pick out a single syllable and you slipped into a dreamless sleep—

—and woke to the sound of shouting. The smell of blood surrounded you, dried and matted across your skin and in your hair. You weren’t sure how long you were out—long enough for all that blood to dry at least. How long did it take to die and come back as a vampire? Pain wracked your body as your heart began to beat again. Slowly at first, a heavy thump, thump, thump that pushed dead blood through your veins. Each muscle spasmed as you struggled to move for the first time in your new life.

Life? Afterlife? Or were you undead?

Fuck, it didn’t matter. You pushed yourself up, vision fuzzy as you forced your eyes open. Blurry figures with black and white hair stood at the foot of the bed, arms waving wildly as they screamed at each other. Terzo and Primo began to come into focus, but they were too caught up in their argument to notice you were awake. Pulling yourself into a seated position, you settled against the headboard and watched them repeatedly jab at each other.

“I’m not the one who’s lost his mind!” Primo yelled, his voice so loud you could feel it in your bones.

“Hah! If anyone in this house is senile it’s you, old man,” Terzo shouted back just as loud.

“Satanas help me. You idiots keep turning every woman you meet—”

“Not every woman. Just the ones we love, stronzo. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“You little—” Primo ground out some unintelligible Italian insults, repeatedly striking the back of his brother’s head as a means of punctuation.

“No, your mother stronzo—” Terzo snapped back and covered his head with his arms. “Stop fucking hitting me!”

“Nine hundred years and you still haven’t learned your actions have consequences—get back here!”

“Could you two please shut the fuck up?” You growled, pressing your fingers into your temples. Both men stopped and stared at you, stunned into silence. Relief left your lips in a sigh, the quiet filling your ears as you let your head fall back against the headboard. You unclenched your jaw, opening your mouth wide as you reached up to feel your sharp new teeth.

“B-bellezza? You’re awake?” Terzo stumbled toward the bed, quickly climbing up next to you. He took your face in his hands, inspecting it for signs of anything.  

“Looks that way, huh?”

“How—how do you feel?” Primo asked.

You felt different. What was the word Reginetta had used? Amplified. Everything louder, brighter, stronger. More. Instead of elaborating, you replied, “kind of like I want to kill you both.”

Your lover laughed nervously. “Hypothetically, right?”

“Yes, Terzo. I didn’t wake up murderous.”

“Because you were lucky,” Primo warned. “Of all the stupid things—” He cut himself off and threw his hands in the air, laughing angrily. “Mostriciattolo, you are lucky she woke up at all idiota. Ah, Mostriciattolo e Draculina. Perfetto.”

“Primo, what are you saying?”

“Nothing at all, little one.” He gave Terzo a pointed look and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

“What was that about? Why were you two fighting like that?”

He shrugged and slumped onto the bed. “Same as always—I can’t do anything right, don’t think before I act, etc., etc. It’s all very boring, bellezza.”

“He’s upset about me?”

He shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. He’s upset about the situation. Said it was ‘beyond irresponsible’ even for me, but he isn’t upset about the outcome. He’ll probably tell you as much later. Enough about my grumpy brother, how are you feeling?”

“Kinda tired. Hungry.”

He let out a happy sigh. “Oh, amore mio. Let’s find you someone to eat.”

-x-

Reheated blood tasted nothing like Terzo’s. Thick and bitter, the lukewarm liquid stuck to the inside of some old commemorative thermos instead of pouring easily into your mouth. You turned the container up and to get liquid to drain faster, a dissatisfied grunt leaving you as your attempts failed. The others tried not to make it obvious, but each of them had cast glances of pity your way. The Countess had been particularly horrified that this was Primo’s solution to your first feed, arguing with him for five full minutes before he’d ordered everyone out of the house.

Between the less than palatable snack and the endless sway of the vehicle as it lurched over long-deserted backroads, it was hard to concentrate on Primo’s rant. As distracted as you were, it was obvious that the oldest Emeritus was no longer acting like himself. The compassionate man you’d known for months was gone, replaced by someone loud and angry. His face was harsh in the dim light, his white eye eerily reflecting the streetlamps as he spun around to bark at his family.

“Have I made myself clear?” he asked and frowned hard at the muted replies from his family.

“We get it, Primo. You’re in charge,” Terzo added sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and pointed a bony finger at his brother. “Not another word from you.”

Copia spoke up as Terzo shrank into his seat. “The plan hasn’t really changed that much Primo. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

Primo growled, flashing his fangs as he sneered at Copia. “Is that what you think?”

The Countess sighed loudly and waved her hands between the men. “Are we gonna measure dicks all day or are we going to save Little Lord Terzo? Cuz I’m pretty sure I have the biggest cock around here and there’s no way our precious baby Draculina here isn’t fucking starving. And even if she’s not, I am. Your macho bullshit is far from appetizing, so can we wrap it up?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know why you have your panties in a bunch when you know damn well every single one of us will follow you straight into hell, Primo. So let’s go.”

“She has a point,” Secondo offered. “We can talk about it for ages, but we might as well just get this thing done and get the kid someone real to eat.”

“Ooh.” The Countess’ eyes sparkled. 

“No one eats anyone until the ritual is complete. Do you understand?” Primo shouted as the van crawled to a stop. He waited for everyone to nod. “Bene. Let’s go.”

One by one the vampires filed out of the van, joined by the two hulking figures of Primo’s ghouls. They’d arrived sometime before you woke, wearing similar metal masks to the ones you recalled Omega and Alpha wearing once upon a time. Earth and Air were much larger than the ghouls you’d met back in the summer, only appearing vaguely human-shaped. Their forms were almost too perfect, the details a bit too sharp to sit well. Part of it was the heightened vampire sense, but Terzo had briefly explained they simply didn’t care enough to make themselves look more human.

You filed that in your worry about it later folder somewhere between “what have you been doing for 900 years?” and “explain werewolves,” before letting it go.

“Once we get inside, stick to the plan,” Primo ordered. 

“It’s not like we have any other options here Primo. Are you going to be like this the entire time?” Secondo asked.

The two older brothers began to argue in harsh whispers while Copia and Countess brushed past and strolled through the front door. Soft lights on the interior made the tall trees visible through the glass that encased the building, giving it a warm orange glow like sunset in the summer. It was a beautiful setting, full of ten times the greenery of Primo’s ridiculously lush conservatory. As you followed the group inside, you realized the botanical garden had a familiar touch. Primo hadn’t just thrown money at something 50 years ago—he created and curated a living work of art.

Terzo gently squeezed your hand. “Are you ok, bellezza?”

You nodded. “Does Primo still run this place or something?”

“It’s that obvious, huh? I tried to tell him they should update things, but he gets all fussy when it comes to this place.”

You hummed in response, gazing up at the lofty glass ceilings. Someday, you’d ask to come back and see this place during the day, but for now you had to stick to the mission.

“We should try to avoid an ambush if we can,” Primo began detailing his plan. “There are three paths to the exhibit we need. Copia, Countess, you two will come with me. Secondo, you and Reginetta take the central path. Terzo, you and Draculina will take the left path.”

“Is it wise to split up like this?” Reginetta whispered to Secondo who simply shrugged before whispering something back. 

“Remember, if you encounter any hunters try to leave them alive. Terzo and I will need every drop of blood we can get,” Primo warned. “We’ll meet in the exhibit in fifteen minutes. Be careful.” 

He turned and quickly walked away, leaving Copia and the Countess to chase after him with mild annoyance on their faces. Secondo nodded once toward Terzo before he and Reginetta made their way down the central path of the garden. With your stomach turning into tighter and tighter knots, you and Terzo moved through the left path.

Overhead, a system of fans and misters churned out unnatural mechanical noises, but the building was eerily quiet otherwise. Even with heightened senses you couldn’t hear any extra breathing or footsteps, no tell-tale signs anyone else was in the room with you. The occasional brush of a leaf against Terzo’s ridiculously puffy sleeve was the only sound that stuck out. It didn’t make any sense. The whole plot was designed to lure the Emeritus family here and there’s no way the hunters would’ve left the building empty.

Not even for a second.

The first shot whipped past you, barely missing your face before striking a tree. Before you could think much of it, you found yourself at the other end of the room, moving faster than you ever had. A small, metal cartridge had wedged deeply into the cracked bark, its pointed end breaking off as you worked it free. Inside, a clear liquid sloshed back and forth in a tiny vial.

“Terzo—” You’d barely turned to call out to him when the second shot embedded in your chest. Fire flared in your veins as the paralytic poison began to flood your system. Primo had anticipated this, handing out antidotes and vaccines before anyone left the cottage, but just because it couldn’t poison you didn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt. You dropped on the spot as the vampire had instructed. Let them think it works, his voice repeated. Let them come to you.

It was easier to see now why Reginetta had been so angry about the stupid plan.

An unfamiliar face appeared over you with a cruel grin. “Aw, did that hurt? Funny how this stuff isn’t as effective on humans, but I hear it burns pretty bad.”

You gritted your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as long as you could. You have surprise on your side now, Draculina. They’ll never expect a turned hunter. Use that in your favor. You scanned the room as the man continued to taunt you, searching for any sign of Terzo.

“Where are the others, huh? I know you’re not stupid enough to come here alone.” He bent down, placing his boot on your chest as he wrenched the cartridge free. Pain radiated from the wound, pulsing in time with the beat of your heart. He tsked, shaking his head. “That won’t be enough.”

“Wha—”

He pressed a blade to your skin and whistled through his teeth, motioning to someone unseen. A dozen hunters silently emerged from the tree line and gathered to watch this man torture you. As Terzo feared, there were some you recognized, but not even one stepped forward to stop the attack. You held out as long as you could, biting down on your tongue to keep from crying out, not wanting to give them a single sliver of power over you. Blood began to pool on the floor beneath you and a tiny, wounded whimper escaped your lips before all that pain was replaced by something else.

The hunter hissed, pulling away to examine the fresh cut he’d accidentally made to his own hand. It took every ounce of strength you had left to stay still. Hunger ripped through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. A painful, consuming white-hot spark that could only be sated by one thing. You dug your nails into your palm, hoping to distract yourself but it was no use. You heard every drop as it moved from his hand and rolled down the knife before landing on the floor. It was so loud, a small insignificant sound made into a tidal wave.

You didn’t hear the others begin to shout as they drew their weapons.

Terzo stood at the edge of the path, his white eye glowing with rage as he stared down your attackers.

“Wha—I thought you shot him!”

“I did!”

“Why won’t you just stay dead?” the first hunter screamed.

“You threatened my family,” Terzo seethed, each step threatening. “You burned my brother’s business, killed his wife—"

“Hey, that wasn’t even us—”

“You set fire to my favorite house,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Reduced my home—my sanctuary—to ash and rubble while forcing us to flee in the middle of the night. You chased us, hunted us down in the city and sent assassins after us. And then you poisoned me and forced one of your own to make an impossible decision. I should tear you all limb from fucking limb for your arrogance. There is no honor among you, not a single shred of dignity spared for one of your own. You don’t even regret what you’ve done to her, what you all forced on her.” 

He cracked a sinister smile. “And now? Now she’s an Emeritus vampire and I’m going to feed all of you to her, piece by fucking piece.”

Your fangs pierced the first hunter’s neck before he could make a sound. The others began to scream and scatter, but Terzo was too fast. In the blink of an eye, the room filled with the sound of bones cracking and pained cries. A dozen bloody bodies lay at your feet, a sacrifice left at your altar by the man you loved.

The hunter hit the ground in a lifeless heap, his blood dripping from your chin as you smiled and reached for another.

“Bellezza?”

You tore through three more hunters before Terzo was able to restrain you.

“I love your enthusiasm, amore,” he purred as you struggled against his hold. “But Primo’s instructions were very clear. We need them alive.”

You turned your head, lips and teeth colliding hard with his just like that first messy kiss in his bedroom. Power rushed through you, fueled by adrenaline and something new—some impulse you didn’t want to control. Hunger. Power. Lust. Want. Need.  It clouded your brain, vision going red as you clawed at Terzo’s clothes and ripped through the fabric of his shirt. You pulled away whatever pieces you could, desperate to feel his skin.

You needed him now, more than you ever thought possible. The two of you tumbled to the floor, knees and elbows landing hard while never letting your lips part. He pivoted his hips and turned to pin you beneath him with a smile.

“Careful, bellezza,” he purred.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rushed, conscious thoughts returning in a flood embarrassment and shame. “I—I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s ok, amore mio. It’s ok,” he assured you while petting your hair. “It’s not your fault. I am rather irresistible and you might be, eh, more impulsive during your transition.”

“Impulsive,” you repeated with a laugh. “Fucking is an impulse now?”

His eyebrows knit together. “For you?”

“Don’t answer that.”

“I promise, bellezza, when this is all over—” He trailed off. He froze for a moment, muscles tense as his eyes went blank. His body went slack, collapsing on top of you in a heap of dead weight.

“Terzo?” You nudged him, slightly panicked until you felt him breathe.

He sat up, shaking his head as he came back to himself. “I’m ok, bellezza. But I think we should get to Primo quickly.”

You nodded and draped Terzo’s arm over your shoulder, lifting him as carefully as you could. You pushed through the exhibit door and into the next room, following the path with your head on a swivel. Getting shot with poison darts had felt about as good as you’d expected, and you were in no hurry to let it happen a second time.

As you moved through the building the path leading to the exhibit Primo had pointed out was suspiciously clear. You hoped maybe that was a good sign rather than a bad one, but it wouldn’t surprise if it was some elaborate setup either. The hunters had months or, depending on the size of the operation, possibly years to plan for this. Any part of of the building could be a trap.

You opened the last door to find Primo in the center of the room, hovering over what looked like an altar. Dozens of black candles surrounded him, their flames adding an eerie flicker to his eyes.

“Where the hell have you been?” he hissed as you approached and flew from his spot. He reached out, gripping your jaw as he eyed the blood staining your face. “What did you do?”

Terzo gave him a weak push, urging him away from you. “We were attacked, you ass. Leave her alone.”

“And you?”

“I’m not doing so well. Obviously.” He stumbled toward the odd arrangement in the middle of the room. Strange symbols lined the floor, etched in chalk and what looked like blood. “What the hell have you been doing in here?”

“Preparing, you ass,” Primo snapped back. “Where are the others?”

“How should I know? I thought Copia was with you. What happened to your grand plan—”

“A plan to save you—”

“Yes, and I will be eternally grateful once you stop acting like—”

“Don’t you dare,” Primo warned sharply.

Terzo sighed and rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to Primo’s project. He took a few unsteady steps, mumbling something in disbelief before dropping to his knees. You rushed to his side, but he shrugged off your attempts to help him stand. Instead, he leaned against you and stared forward, eyes fixed on the strange plant with its single white flower at the center of the altar. He began to shake, shoulders heaving as he gasped for breath.

You shouted his name, frantically trying to get him to answer you or at least say anything. His eyes were still full of life as you forced him to look away, but there was a profound sadness behind them you’d yet to see even on Terzo’s worst days. The vampire was crying. It hit you hard, a punch to the gut you didn’t expect as he collapsed against you, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Terzo? What—”

Primo knelt beside the two of you and smoothed a hand over his brother’s hair. “It will be ok, mostriciattolo. Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

He shook his head and cried harder, unable to form the words to answer as he held onto you.

“Primo, what the hell is happening?” you screamed.

He gave you a faint smile and jutted his chin toward the plant. “It’s…it’s a rare species, effectively extinct. Beautiful. Poisonous. It’s loosely related to datura—”

“Primo, I’m not a fucking botanist—”

“It grew around our home,” he interrupted, his voice flat as he stared at nothing. “When Terzo was a child, the grounds were covered in it. By the time we—it was all gone by the time he became a man. Seemingly lost forever.”

There was another untold story in the look they shared, one that spanned centuries and somehow now included you. You held Terzo, hoping to ease his pain or at least offer some form of comfort as he slowly pulled himself back together. With a hard sniff he pulled away from you, tears tracing lines through his paint.

“Mi dispiace, bellezza. I have not seen this flower in a very long time. I was not expecting to see it again—”

There was a rush of footsteps followed by a slamming door. Behind you, the other vampires began to shout as they dragged any and every object they could find toward a makeshift barricade. The door bowed under the force of something outside, a rhythmic thud against solid metal.

“I am going to tear out your eyes so you can watch me pull your head through your ass you little prick,” the Countess seethed, hurling her threats through the door. She leaned against the wall; her right hand pressed over what appeared to be a stab wound. Copia shrugged off his jacket and knelt beside her to hold it against her side.

“By all means, take your time, Primo,” Secondo barked sarcastically and braced himself against the door. “We’re not under attack or anything!”

“Stay close,” Primo muttered as he helped Terzo stand.

“Where would I even go?” Terzo sassed back, his body growing weaker with each step.

“Not you, stronzo.”

“Hardly the time for name calling—”

“Shut up!” he snapped and turned toward the altar. He began to toss various herbs and tinctures into a to-go cup he’d clearly swiped from the botanical garden’s gift shop. There was a familiar smell of ash and rust as the mixture took on the properties of Terzo’s usual antidote. A thick green-black sludge formed as Primo painstakingly stirred and cast a look over his shoulder.

“Is everyone ready?”

“Do we have a choice?” Copia shouted back, grunting as he twisted broken pieces of the door’s metal frame against itself.

“No matter what happens you must keep drinking. You understand fratellino? Do not stop for anything,” Primo warned in a low voice. With a careful hand he plucked the sole flower from the plant and crushed it between his fingers. He began to whisper something in Latin, a chant you couldn’t quite make out and wouldn’t understand even if you could. The flower began to crumble, turning to a pale dust that slowly fell between his fingers and into the cup. He cast one last look at Terzo and smiled. “To your health.”

He downed the contents and dropped to his knees, shoving his arm in Terzo’s face. “Drink.”

“Are you insane?” Terzo hissed.

Primo used the opportunity to jam his wrist against Terzo’s fangs and hold it there. “Drink.”

Whatever argument he wanted to make died in his throat as Primo’s blood spilled into his mouth. He tried to fight him, desperately clawing at his brother’s clothes, but his weakened state was no match for the older vampire. You watched in horror as your lover struggled, his eyes pleading for help. One by one the other vampires began to realize the seriousness of the situation, turning to look as Terzo slammed his feet against the floor in protest.

Whatever you’d been told, whatever parts of the plan you had all tried to understand escaped the room as glass began to shatter. The hunters were no longer trying to get through the blocked door, instead they spilled in from all sides, seeking any entrance to the solarium. The family formed a circle around Primo’s altar, protecting Primo and Terzo from the rapidly approaching violence, but there were more hunters than you could count. As predicted, they had prepared for this on a scale you didn’t think was possible.

“Primo—” You stopped short and gasped as your eyes landed on him. His face was gaunt, skin sagging away from his bones in a way that made him appear almost hollow. He was aging rapidly, withering away as each drop of life passed from his body to Terzo’s. “Oh, fuck.”

The room filled with the sound of hunters readying their weapons, each taking aim at the vampire of their choice.

Terzo finally managed to break his brother’s hold and pushed him away before doubling over. Every muscle in his body flexed and tensed as he tried to crawl away, pushing as hard as he could. With one great heave, a torrent of dark bile spilled from his lips onto the floor as his body rejected the poison. The hunters froze, many with a look of disgust on their faces as the puddle below Terzo grew.

Movement caught the corner of your eye, a blur of white so fast the humans never saw it coming. Shots rang out as the first few dropped, but Primo was too quick. Moving like an unstoppable ferocious predator, he cleared the room of anyone in his path. Secondo and Copia followed his lead, taking out as many hunters as they could while you rushed to Terzo’s side.

He was shaking, soaked in sweat and sick, but he was alive.

“Bello?”

He grinned and reached out to caress your face. “I’m here, bellezza,” he purred as you leaned into his touch. “I’m here. I will always be here.”

“How do you feel?”

His smile grew even wider, almost sinister. “I am starving.”

You smiled back. “Me too.”

Carnage was the only way you could begin to describe what was happening around you. A massacre—no—a battlefield stretched from one end of the room to the other drenched in viscera and severed limbs. Terzo and the others tore through the room, forced to finish a fight that had started centuries ago. The smell of blood and death was clinging to everything, sharpened senses now unable to ignore even the smallest drop. It overwhelmed you, drawing you into the fray as you bit into the first faceless hunter you could reach.

A few feet away, the Countess gave you a thumbs-up with the severed arm of one of her victims.

-x-

The cottage was unnaturally quiet. As quickly as they arrived, the other vampires had disbanded and headed their separate ways, leaving a cluttered and messy house in their wake. You weren’t sure what was going to happen next. You weren’t sure anyone did.

Primo had nearly died trying to save Terzo. That much was clear from the last time anyone had seen him, but his brothers were quick to assure you that Primo could and would take care of himself. For now, you had to let that be enough, but it felt wrong to leave your friend’s home in such a state.

Especially after everything he had done for you.

You went through each room, picking up whatever you could and putting things back together the way Primo normally kept them. There wasn’t much time, but you sensed Terzo understood this was something you needed. He simply kissed your cheek and left to pack up whatever belongings the two of you had accumulated in that little room.

The kitchen wasn’t a complete disaster, but the least you could do was rinse the handful of old coffee mugs resting in the sink. You washed them carefully though the years and dishwasher cycles had been less than kind to any images they once held. You always assumed you would have time to find out what it was about tourist traps that fascinated Primo, but now you weren’t sure how long you’d have to wait.

It wasn’t until you’d put the last mug away that you noticed the letters. Three envelopes had been left on the table, each the same red as Primo’s scuffed slippers. Each addressed carefully in an elaborate script. Terzo. Draculina. Diavolina.

“Hey Terzo?” You called out, a nervous shake to your voice.

He appeared in a blink, bags in hand as he quickly scanned the room for threats.

“Everything’s ok. It’s just…Primo…he left letters.”

“Ah,” Terzo grunted and dropped the suitcases in favor of clutching his chest. “Thank Satanas. I am too full to eat anyone else today. What does the letter say?”

You shrugged and handed him the one with his name before tearing into your own. There wasn’t much, a simple short note expressing a few wishes written in the most impressive penmanship you’d ever seen. “He says not to look for him—”

“Typical.”

“And that he wants to leave the cottage to his friend.”

Terzo made a face. “He has a friend?”

“You missed so much while you were half-dead, huh?” you teased before reading through the letter one more time. “Hey, what’s Villa Majesty?”

“Eh,” he started and sighed heavily, avoiding your eyes. “I don’t think you will like my answer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s a castle…my castle.”

“Your…what? Like a castle, castle?”

“Sì, it is the smaller one.” He offered with a cheeky grin. “But I think you’ll like it there.”

You groaned. “How many houses do you have?”

He shrugged. “You have plenty of time to find out.”

-x-

“Ah, ah, bellezza,” Terzo purred and brushed your hair away from your neck. He placed a kiss on the newly exposed skin before whispering into your ear. “Slowly, my love.”

You resisted the urge to shrug him off and followed his instructions, drawing long, slow pulls from the vampire hunter’s neck. No one ever tasted as good as Terzo, but he was determined to teach you how to make the most of every kill. Though he couldn’t bake to save his life, so far he had been right about fear and desire tasting better than anger.

You suspected he just got off on watching you feed—not that you minded. Your relationship had started covered in blood after all.

The mattress creaked as Terzo pressed even closer, lips returning to your neck. It had only been a month since you arrived at Villa Majesty—a month-long whirlwind honeymoon phase filled with moments like this and various other “vampire lessons” that were thinly veiled excuses for him to get his hands (or lips) on you. But it was easy to let him try to charm you all over again even if he had already won your heart.

“Like this?” you asked, leaning into him as the hunter’s pulse began to stutter. It was pure luck that you’d found this one, or maybe just stupidity on their part. The village below was small and picturesque enough to attract a few tourists, but it was easy enough to spot someone behaving the way you used to. Feeding on humans can with its own set of morality issues, but when it came to anyone who would take down you or your new family without a second thought the decision was much easier.

Terzo hummed against your skin, his hands reaching around you to free the hunter from your grip. You let out a small yelp as he seized you and pulled your further onto the ridiculous bed, your snack and lessons now forgotten. Much like Meliora House, Villa Majesty was also decorated like a fucking wedding cake, but your lover made up for his eccentric taste in furniture by fucking you senseless on any and every surface he could and making post-coital promises about any remodeling the entire place if you wanted.

Honestly, there were worse things than being wrapped in lavender frills and ruffles while being spoiled by an immortal billionaire.

You pawed at his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of the near-transparent fabric between your fingers as you readied yourself to rip it from his body.

“Nooo,” he whined. “Not this one, per favore. I look too good in this.”

“But you look better out of it.”

“Bah! Impossible, bellezza,” he huffed and rose up on his knees to pose. “Look at me!”

“Oh, I am,” you assured him. You pushed yourself up and let your eyes trail over his form slowly, appreciating every inch. It was growing more faint over time, but you reached up and pressed your fingers to the scar on his chest with a small sigh. “Remind me why we even bother to get dressed again?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Omega and Alpha’s rules.”

“Ah, yes the demonic bodyguards who were tired of seeing your cock.”

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and took your wrists in his hands. In one quick motion he pinned you to the bed and hovered over you. “No one has ever tired of my cock, bellezza.”

“Hmm, it is quite nice. Is that why you showed it to me the second I walked into your house?”

“If it works, it works.”

“Terzo?”

“Amore?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said with a grin and bent down to kiss you. “Ugh, ok, ok, you can tear it off me—just this once.”

He released your hands and sat back to allow you better access. He was right he did look good like this, but his cock was tenting in his pants and straining against the fabric and that was a look you preferred to any other. You ran your hands over his chest and began the delicate task of carefully slipping each of the buttons free. He groaned at the pace of your work, breath hitching any time you touched the slightest bit of skin. Teasing Terzo had become a favorite pastime of yours over the last few weeks, watching him barely maintain his composure as you found the balance between your heightened senses and his own. He could easily overpower you if he wanted and some days it was more fun to encourage that, but with your appetite sated all you could think about was having him take you slowly.

“Terzo?” You asked as you pushed open his shirt to press a kiss against his stomach. “Make love to me?”

“Every single day for eternity, amore,” he promised with a sly smile. He shook the gauzy shirt from his shoulders and cast it aside, no longer caring about its price tag or the way he looked in it. He eased you onto your back and pushed your knees apart, leveling his face with your sex and the stupidly expensive, but admittedly sexy panties he’d procured for your new wardrobe.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slowly slid them down your legs before stuffing them in the pocket of his tightening pants. He wasted no time burying his face in your cunt and letting his tongue dance a dizzying rhythm across your sensitive nerves. With a firm grip on his hair, you encouraged and praised him letting the man you loved completely take you apart. He held you down with one hand and used the other to tease and slide his fingers into your entrance, working to coax an orgasm out of you.

As you teetered on the edge of intense pleasure, he bit into the inside of your thigh and moaned loudly. At the same time you let go, your body tensing around his fingers as he drank from you. If it wasn’t for how painfully hard he must have been, you thought he could stay there for the rest of his life. Instead, he pushed your knees to your chest and kicked his pants across the room. He pressed into you slowly, eyes closed as he bit his own lip bloody.

“Bellezza, do you see what you do to me?”

You raised your head and watched your bodies connect, sighing with relief as he filled you. “Fuck,” you whispered, hands already grasping at the sheets. “Do you see what you do to me?”

When he was fully seated inside you, he stilled his hips and bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, letting you keen beneath him. Your revenge came as you nipped his throat and let out a particularly lascivious moan as his blood dripped onto your tongue.

“No fair, bella. Do you want me to make love to you or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Both,” you replied with a grin and raised your hips. “They can be the same thing. Especially when you taste this good.”

“Temptress,” he purred and began a torturous rhythm with his hips.

“Vampire,” you shot back, meeting each thrust.

He growled and bit into your neck, drinking from you as his pace picked up. The vibration of his low moans melted into your own, rattling through your chest as you neared your release. He was so loud, alternating between fucking and drinking and moaning while the bed shifted beneath you. You loved him like this, loved to see him so desperately in love with you that he almost couldn’t stand it. You told him so as he pounded into you with a ferocity that drew sounds from your throat Omega would probably leave a note about later.

Terzo’s fingers found their way back to your center as he pulled off your neck and leaned up to watch you come undone. And you did, your bliss hitting you hard in intense waves that washed over you. No one had ever fucked you like he could; no one had ever loved you as he did. No one else ever would.

He cried out, stilling his hips as he reached his own end and spilled inside you. He gasped for air, burying his face in your neck as he came down. The two of you lay like that for a while, twisted up and consumed by your love for each other.

A soft knock broke the silence of the bedroom. Terzo offered you a lazy smile and rolled off the bed, taking the sheet with him. He tucked it around his waist before opening the door a crack to reveal a slightly nervous Omega.

“Uh…sorry to disturb you…but you told me— “

Terzo threw open the door. “Is it here?”

Omega yelped and covered his eyes with his hand. He shoved a small package toward Terzo with the other hand before running down the hallway while shouting, “boundaries people!”

Terzo just shrugged and closed the door. You rolled onto your stomach to watch him rip into the cardboard box, curious to see what was so important it disturbed such a soft moment. The vampire smiled brightly as he walked toward you.

“You have no idea how hard this was to find, bellezza.”

You furrowed your brow. “What is it?”

He winked and handed you the box. Packed neatly and carefully inside was the same vintage hockey sweater you’d once owned, your favorite team’s colors still pristine and bright. Another smaller velvet box sat in the middle of their emblem. You blinked up at him, but he just shrugged and gestured for you to open that one as well.

The next time your eyes met he was on one knee, still wrapped in the sheet.

“Is this why you didn’t want me to rip your shirt?”

“I was trying to create a moment, bellezza.”

You slid off the bed and walked over to him, gently caressing his face. “I think you proposing naked is still a moment, bello. Better than your silly movies.”

He smiled softly. “Will you marry me, amore mio?”

“Yes,” you replied with a nod, tears filling your eyes. “Of course I will, you idiot.”

Thank you to everyone who waited patiently and cheered me on while I tried to complete this story. Your comments kept me going through some really tough times and I can't thank you enough.

I'd like to thank @ramblingoak for holding my hand for the past YEAR and being just the best fucking friend through everything. Suck Club would not exist without you. Thank you. 💜

here's more stuff from me // my ko-fi info

[tsunderetypea]

Little Slayer| TLoVM x platonic!reader

Preface| Every party had its outlier. For some, most people would think it was Scanlan of the legendary group Vox Machina. Yet as we know fate has its own workings on the matter.

Enter amnesiac [Y/N] who happened to cross their paths. For the most part, they appeared utterly normal as a human could be but well as the party would soon realize there is more to them than meets the eye.

Word Count| 2148

Link to [Part 02]

--

[A/N]: I’ve been dying for a platonic!reader with the group even though I just started watching the animated series a couple of days ago. I apologize if at some point some of the character's seem out of character or I get something wrong.

Think of reader as the group’s Perrito or Groot in a sense.

I’m mostly making this for shenanigans so idk if this really has a plot or if this will be a couple of chapters ordeal.

This takes place after S2 of the show and I know next to nothing about what happens in Critical Role...

“Arghh! When are the others getting back! Grog hungry!..” whined the half-giant as he hugged his lower abdomen, his expression teary like that of a child as his best friend touched his bicep.

“Soon buddies, it shouldn’t be long now.” Pike assured with a smile that went away by the sounds of loud crunches heard nearby. “I’m telling you, this is the best sandwich I’ve ever made!” chomped Scanlan with a grin as he ate his meal while Grog growled at him, taking it that he was teasing him for his amusement.

“Gimme a piece!” Grog exclaimed with a lurch, trying to grab the food from him. “No! It’s not my fault you wasted your part of the gold on ale!” the bard argued back as he backed away from the bigger man’s grab.

“It was for good reason! I needed ale for my nuts-trucian!” the axe-wielder barked as he kept trying to take the sandwich from the gnome.

Pike could only watch as the two argued over the meal, Grog still trying to take the hoagie while Scanlan played keep-away.

She hoped it would not escalate.

—

“This is taking longer than I would like,” huffed Vex with a frown as she and Keyleth watched Percy and her brother negotiate the bounty they had made.

“You tell me,” the air Ashari sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I just want to eat and… sleep.”

“No ale?” the half-elf questioned with a side-glance. “After the last time… no.” Keyleth nervously chuckled as she recalled their last drinking expenditure which ended mostly in vomit.

“But it was fun,” Vex teased with a nudge. “It was, the aftermath wasn’t.” she giggled.

“What, are we talking about our last drink?” interrupted Vax as he and Percy approached them. “You could say that,” answered his sister as she ushered them to leave to join the rest of the party.

Little did they know, something would change when they regrouped.

—

“For the last time Grog, I said no—“ were among the words Scanlan used in an attempt to get through his friend’s mind but fell through as the half-giant was successful in getting ahold of his meal.

“Ha, ha!” Grog said in triumph though no before Scanlan used his magic to propel himself as he managed to grab it back. “You were saying…” he said with a smirk though faded as Grog quickly lurched after him to get the delicious sustenance.

“Buddies, no!” Pike came forward in an effort to stop the two.

“Mine!” “No mine!” they both yelled as they both had their hands on the hoagie. “Let go!” Scanlan hollered though not before quickly thinking to use his bard power in kicking the sandwich out of both their hands.

“Nooo... my food!” cried the light-blue skinned half-giant. “Ha ha, smart thinking Scan,” snickered the gnome praised himself.

“Not really since you kept it away from yourself. Now you’re just feeding the rats.” pointed out Pike as the other gnome began to fully realize what he had done. “Oh shit, no!” he exclaimed as he ran toward the direction that he kicked the sandwich.

“No wait that’s mine! I’ll still eat it!” Grog followed running after him. “We can literally make another sandwich when the others get back!” Pike called after them but her words fell on death ears as they vanished from sight.

‘I better make sure they don’t do something stupid…’ were among the cleric’s thoughts as she also ran after them.

—

“Let’s see…” you whispered to yourself as you clambered down from the trash bins you had been searching in. “Not a bad haul if I do say myself [Y/N].” you said with a smile with your hands on your hips looking over the food you had managed to scavenge.

An orange looking fruit that was a bit mushy in some areas, some moldy bread, and the bone of a turkey leg with little chunks of meat here and there made up your score. You were truly feasting that night.

You slid down against the wall, grabbing the moldy piece of bread as you sat down to eat at last. Carefully you picked off the mold before taking a bite out of it, the staleness of the loaf entering your tastebuds as you looked up to the stars.

Normally you would have been chased off if people found you going through their trash even if it was for food, but tonight was the first time in a while that hadn’t happen.

‘Maybe my luck is finally changing…’ you thought with a small smile as you finished the last of the bread, though your stomach growled for more.

With only your name as the thing you truly knew for sure about yourself you had no idea who you were or where you came from as you wandered the land in search for… even you had no idea what you were doing.

Something you supposed.

But there was something inside you that urged you to go on despite your impoverished predicament you were in. So you had to continue, whatever it was.

That was until you heard a splat of something very close to you. “Ahh I’ve been hit!” you shrieked, thinking you were wounded as you felt something splatter on you, your eyes shutting close to brace the pain.

But you felt… nothing?

Carefully you opened one eye, looking around before looking at yourself to see if there was any sign of bodily harm on you. But all you found was a tomato slice on your cheek.

“Huh?” you uttered in confusion as you opened both eyes completely to look around at what had caused the noise from earlier and the origin of tomato slice only to find a somewhat squished sandwich on your right. It happened to land on the flipped crate you were using as a table to hold your dinner though now it was on top of it.

Seeing this as possibly a sign of some sort you quickly said a “Thank you!” before diving into the slightly pulverized sandwich.

You couldn’t stop yourself from slowly eating as you chowed down on the food, savoring each bite. Yet it was in your ignorance that you hadn’t noticed the rumbling sounds of something larger stomping close by.

“Hey let go of my sand—“ a loud voice boomed before feeling something grab the neck of your shirt as you were lifted to meet the eyes of a giant in your eyes. “AAH!” you screamed dropping the sandwich while Grog looked at you speechless at the sight of your scrawny form. He had expected to pick up a rat not a person which is why he cut off from speaking when he lifted you up.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was yours!” you quickly apologized as you averted your eyes from him. Grog said nothing yet kept looking at you. You had no idea what he was going to do to you so you kept talking.

“I’ll get you a new one! I’ll sell my uh, my arm to pay you back!” you squeaked, your mind in panic over the situation you were in.

“You better pay me back..” said a new voice.

You looked up to see a gnome coming up beside the giant with an even more pissed off expression. Though his expression faltered slightly when he saw you being held up by his friend and even more so when he saw his sandwich splattered on the ground.

“My sandwich!” Scanlan cried at his now wasted meal, his knees buckling in despair at the sight of its ruin.

“I’ll-I’ll pay you back too!” he heard you utter, though confusion crossed his expression at your words. “Why would you have to pay me back kid?” he asked as he rose to his feet.

“Because I was eating it and then he grabbed me and I dropped it!” you quickly said as you tried your hardest not to cry.

“Aww Scan, they remind me of Pike. Can we keep them?” Grog now held you to his chest which made you jolt as you thought he would crush you. Now you were just trembling in his arms.

“Look they even vibrate!” he added with a grin.

“They aren’t a pet, Grog. Besides, we would all have to decide.” the bard pointed out.

“Decide what?”

Grog and Scanlan turned to see Vex and the others join them with Pike leading the way.

“Buddies!” Pike said in relief before running over to meet them closer and it was then she saw you in the half-giant’s arms.

“Who’s this?” she asked questioningly as the others approached behind her. “Are they another person in a bounty?” Vax queried all the while looking you up and down.

“It doesn’t appear so…” Percy was quick to offer his judgment and he was proven correct when Scanlan said, “no it’s some kid Grog picked up that was eating my sandwich.”

The four of them expect Pike sent confused glances their way before the cleric sent them a “it’s a long story” glance at them.

“But I was saying we should keep them! They even vibrate!” Grog spoke enthusiastically.

“Grog they are a person not a pet.” Vex spoke with her arms crossed. “Besides they are trembling from fear not because they actually vibrate.” she stated as she took a look at you. “… unless there is a creature that can do such a thing.”

“None that I have seen,” piped Keyleth as she went forward to the half-giant. “Yes, with that said put them down, Grog.” ordered Vax as Grog groaned, disappointed before taking heed in his command.

You could feel the smooth stone under your feet as you were gently put down, though it didn’t stop you from shaking as you now head yourself. You felt your throat blocked off as if you had swallowed a frog as no words exited your lips.

“Are you okay?” asked the air Ashari as she sent you a comforting smile. “Sorry about Grog, he means no harm… most of the time.” Pike had joined in and also sent you a comforting glance.

But she tried to hide the true face she wanted to make at the overall state you were in. They all were trying to not show their pity.

You were dirty and obviously malnourished, a state no one should be in especially someone as young as you. Percy obviously saw himself in you and looked away when you felt his gaze on you. There were some things of the past that still pained him.

“I’m… okay,” you managed to croak out. “I’m sorry about your sandwich,” she turned to Grog and Scanlan. “I’ll pay you back—“ “No it wasn’t your fault. You had every right to eat it. Right Grog?” the bard elbowed the strongest member of the party.

“Oh right! Well since I can’t keep you, I’ll give you some money to eat!..” Grog looked to Percy and the twins in response as they caught on and quickly got out some of the gold they were rewarded. “Right, here’s your half,” Vax tossed him his portion of the bounty. “Mine too, I don’t mind.” Percy quietly added this time actually looking at you and sending an empathetic look to you.

You quietly gasped recognizing that he had also been in your shoes even though in your eyes he hadn’t looked like he had been. In that moment you were trying to figure out why they were helping you when you had done nothing worthy for them.

But your thoughts were cut short when Grog pressed the gold coins in your hand, you looking up to meet his brown eyes.

“I can’t accept this,” the words spilled out of your mouth. “This is yours… you might need it than I do.” you said truthfully.

“But we want you to have it darling. It’s a gift. Please take it.” came the soothing voice of Vex as she assured you.

“Yeah, take it so you can eat… maybe another sandwich,” offered Scanlan with a wink.

“We have to go now but please take care of yourself,” Vax spoke directly at you, your eyes locking to his. He wished they could help you more but they had to worry more on the journey ahead of them with Tal’Dorei at stake.

They could at least do some good along the way.

“Yeah, be safe.” Keyleth sent you another smile before leaving you to join Percy and the half-elven twins. “Who knows we might meet again,” Pike encouraged as she also left to join them.

“Bye my little pet,” Grog patted your head before leaving with Scanlan. They all waved at you before leaving the alleyway as you stood watching them leave.

However, the air around you seemed different as they disappeared from sight.

Something had changed within you.

[autisticrosewilson]

Hi its the Jason Tara and Grant all caste person again, again. I've downloaded nightshade and glaze and should be able to figure it out tommorow after my exam. However since I am apparently a dumbass, instead of going to bed in preparation for the exam I felt the need to word vomit about Jason Todd. This whole thing is about Jason being a god and now I've become one of his most devout followers. Anyways, hope you enjoy.

After seeing your posts about how Jason is kind of teetering on the edge of divinity, I kind of became obsessed with the idea and used it as a way to explain all his behaviours. Obviously you mentioned his inconsistency could just be written off as legends changing. Then you mentioned how he needed to die but also live as a human and face human hardships. He had to suffer through loosing Catherine, Willis, Nocturna and all his civilian friends and also be betrayed by Bruce and Sheila, and also had to suffer through poverty, homelessness and abusive systems so he could develop his sense of justice and gave him the tools and strength to help others.

If we're going the route of him being a justice God specifically I've come up with a terribly angsty reason for why he can't kill Joker and can never fully stand up to Bruce. Bruce's morals are kind of ridiculous when you look to hard at him. I'm not even going to touch the no killing rule but other than that what else does he have? Usually no guns? If I was going to write a strict moral code I'd probably add in no abusing my children, no stalking people and while I'm at it I'd use all that wealth to make Arkham Asylum an actually asylum so his rogues could get some help instead of being treated like prisoners and tortured since everyone's given up on reforming them. Everyone but Bruce of course... not that his actions show it but oh well.

Anyways, I think Jason and Bruce's morals are heavily impacted by their lives. Generally, other than his parents dying Bruce has had a fairly easy life. He's rich and never had the systems that were supposed to help him, hurt him, so he has faith in the system. His backstory is one awful night. He sees the rogues, crimelords, gangs, thieves etc as a few awful exceptions.

Jason despite certainly having specific awful nights he can point to, mostly just had years of awfulness that rarely let up. Death was never a a short horrific event for him. It was long and painfully drawn out. He had to watch Catherine die. He waited so long to find out Willis had passed, in a schrodinger's dad situation. Willis was both dead and alive. Jason has first hand experience with poverty and abusive systems which heavily influences his sense of justice and if he had to live and die this specific way so he could be a fair god, I imagine he'd be terrified of losing his humanity. He's seen from Bruce what a man who's untouchable in almost every way deems justice. He's seen how warped morals can become when you're too powerful for anyone to be able to stop you. The more he gives in to his divinity, the closer he is to loosing his humanity which is the very thing that gave him his sense of justice. And for Jason, justice tends to be personal. Even when he barely knew Gloria, he was so passionate about helping her which for some reason Bruce thought was a bad thing. But Bruce bashing aside, Jason comes to the conclusion that to enact justice for himself would be to come full circle and finally ascend. It was prophesied he would suffer and since he is a god of justice surely to ascend he must enact justice on those who hurt him. However, he's terrified if he does get justice for himself, he'll truly become a god, lose his humanity and then his sense of justice will be warped over time like Bruce's was.

So this leaves him unable to kill Joker out of fear that if he crosses that specific line he'll turn into a monster. Do you see where I'm going with this? In his attempt to avoid becoming Bruce he has still become Bruce. Granted he's not like abusing kids, planning to backstab his friends, doing lobotomies on people without consent etc. But I'm sure you get the point.

So Jason would still be fully down with killing, but also have a reason why he doesn't just kill Joker directly because he's more than physicaly capable (Joker's just Dc's cashcow and will never let him die.)

But anyways the son tries to avoid being the father but by doing so becomes the father. The prophecy that wasn't actually ever spoken is the one Jason is so desperate to avoid and yet still comes true. Albeit under very different circumstances. Jason just doesn't want to ascend because he's scared he'll be too powerful and loose his morality. Which technically is also what Bruce claims but I've already mentioned why I don't exactly consider him moral.

Anyways you gave me brain worms so now I'm giving you mine. Ps I love ur posts, fics and playlist.

I wasn't ignoring your ask I promise! It's been sitting in my inbox and I keep re-reading it because I love this so much!! I love unbreakable cycles and characters teetering on the edge of divinity but clinging to their humanity by their NAILS.

I love the idea that the last hoop to jump through in order to ascend is to complete some kind of circle, to tie up some loose end that has plagued your life. Choosing to do so would be choosing to give up your humanity, but the refusal would guarantee that you suffer as long as your human. It will be really interesting to see how characters like Grant and Tara react to this! Grant who's known to be impulsive and selfish and Tara who comes from a family already hailed as God's- a family she was rejected from.

I really like this particular au and characterization with my version of Tara! Where her people believed in gods that gave the royal family powers but punished them for their greed by swallowing the whole kingdom, forcing the people of Markovia to rebuild. And it's debatable whether this origin is true or not, but I think it's a fun myth to characterize the culture and beliefs of a fictional country. Especially because in many ways Tara's story mirrors the story of the Chosen One that caused the reckoning in the myth. Like the Star Girl, Tara is kept separate from the royals by her working class role, when her powers show up she's taken to a different place away from the royals to come into her powers. The difference is that Tara had no divine intervention, there was no community to nurture her gifts, she was sold into a meta fighting ring and her life was one of suffering. Sure, she could start a revolution in Markovia, tear down the corrupt government of her kingdom and let the earth open to consume the wicked castle, but if she did she'd be giving up the humanity she's fought so hard to earn back after the Dark Side Club. Refusing to do it leaves her helpless to watch as her home is torn apart by war and famine, watching as brother is thrust into the limelight of people hungry for blame, watching him become exactly the kind of man their father was.

It's interesting for Grant too, who probably has the most to go through in order to ascend - but I also think he's the character who's most likely to want it. He doesn't have believers like Jason or some mythical heritage like Tara, there's no prophecy that he can nicely fit himself in the center of. He has to fight for his divinity, piece by piece he has to build himself up into someone worth worshipping. I think his test would be killing Slade, and so a large portion of his time would be spent training to do just that. It would be fascinating to see how this goal impacts the other characters! Jason would probably see a lot of himself in Grant, he'd definitely relate because of his Lost Days era when his goals were similar. But he'd also detest Grant's ultimate desire for ascension, he doesn't think Grant is really thinking it through or in a good place to make that kind of call. Tara is both disgusted by his search for apotheosis and upset that he wants to kill the only halfway stable parent figure she's had since her mother.

A lot of chances for drama and there's a lot of choices that need to be made, I'm very intrigued by the story!

[femur-arts]

(This is really hard to talk about for many reasons) When I first started going by Femur Arts it was a really bad time, and I'm not gonna talk about it, but im gonna explain this. My mental state got really bad and sometime I ended up probably having a psychosis dissasoive episode (back in like September 23-febuary 24) and you can even hear it from the songs i made. To be fair I didn't know how to compose either, but the actual nonsense within the songs really correlates. Absolutely incohesive even for someone who didn't know how to compose.

Anyway I think im gonna turn my emotion vomit into words and repoupouse those songs, and characters. Mostly because I forgot the original meaning. Anyways anything labeled as a "Ludovic pmv" is a song from that period and then the pmv is basically my emotion vomit.

Also any time I say "emotion vomit" its literally crushed up memories, emotions from them and/or responsive. It will not make any sense unless I give you context witch may or may not happen depending on what its about.

Anyway bye. I hope this makes sense. I'm ok, its just me trying to understand something that happened in the past.

[lvlypink]

Hey! I've got a question for you see I was raised very atheist (borderline anti-religion) and later found paganism (I worship Apollo mainly) but recently I've been very drawn towards Jesus and Mother Mary What I'm most confused by is praying! I've 'prayed' to Apollo before and its never been hard to (its sort of like a one way conversation and I'm not even sure I do it right) but it feels like praying to them would be different? Basically long way to ask if you could explain *how* you pray and what praying is

ayo! so quick background on me: i was raised presbyterian, then got out of the church, explored paganism, and now i'm back to catholicism / christopaganism (?)

when i was a kid in church, i was taught praying is quite literally a conversation. its usually a "greeting" where you acknowledge god or jesus or mary or whoever else, then you ask for something if you'd like, you say thanks for another thing if you'd like, you ask for forgiveness if you'd like, praise (maybe?), and end it with an amen

there are also the very popular prayers like the Our Father and the Hail Mary/Ave Maria, which mostly don't take more than 10 minutes to memorize. i usually pray these at night, one of each at least, along with another personal prayer. if i'm really really tired i just end it with those 2, though, and i tend to compulsively pray Hail Mary's when i'm stressed lol

an example of a prayer according to what i was taught: "our eternal Lord and saviour, who art in Heaven, we thank You for providing us with food and shelter and the company of our beloved ones today. we ask that You keep our family safe from all harm as You always have. forgive us for our sins against others and ourselves. amen."

and also: "Mary, mother of Jesus, keep our family in your prayers and watch over us during these trying times. praised be our Lord, amen."

another option! read a verse or a chapter from the bible, say "amen", and go on with your life. that can also be a prayer if you ask me

I KNOW I BASICALLY WORD-VOMITED AND DIDNT MAKE A LOT OF SENSE B U T try it out with your understanding of prayer, even if limited, and see how it feels. the standard prayers like the Our Father are always a safe bet. hope we can chat more! xoxo

[jimmy-valmer-official]

Gonna be so random and unnecessarily insane about this for a minute but I made a pokémon team for Jimmy. Word vomit and some pictures under the cut.

First off, the best candidate I could think of for him to have as a partner pokemon is a Raichu. The color pallet is perfect and the concept is even more so… he could use the electric abilities to power up his microphone and cameras and stuff (he probably gets shocked a bunch of times through his crutches though).

Anyways. His Raichu could have a little microphone and sit on his shoulder while he preforms. It’s perfect. See my vision? I already drew it in a previous post.

The next pokemon I can see him having is a Mr. Mime, unsurprisingly. It has a fun-oriented personality, looks like a clown, yada yada. But the main reason I thought of it was because Jimmy showed interest in making impressions of people during his debut, and what is Mr. Mime if not an impressionist?

I think his Mr. Mine could easily be a leading inspiration for him or a breath of fresh air after getting back from a tiring comedy show. Maybe both. Sometimes it stars in the shows… Definitely has a boisterous personality that Jimmy is completely unphased by.

Coming up third is a Jigglypuff. I’ve seen a lot of people give him a Jigglypuff, and honestly? King shit. Solely wanted to put one on his team because the idea of him getting pranked and like, being put to sleep unconventionally and then waking up to a drawing of a million dicks on his forehead is both super funny and definitely something that he’d find hilarious.

Definitely attainted it on accident, and loves it to bits. Also, they definitely play pranks together as well. That’s a very crucial part of their friendship.

Also. It just has that look in its eyes.

Okay. I wanted to add some bigger pokemon now, and after some debating, I settled on a Stoutland and a tauros. Here’s why.

First off, again, the color pallets are amazing. But to be more specific. I wanted Jimmy to have a loyal and older partner to balance put the wonky first three. Because even though Jimmy loves messing around, he also has a very clear set of morals and isn’t solely a silly little guy. A dog-like pokemon fit him pretty well (i think hes an in-betweener when it comes to cats vs. dogs, but most cat pokemon are pretty snarky and i dont think he’d be a huge fan of that), and Stoutland is the perfect partner for anyone.

I’d say Stoutland is his main traveling partner, but he’d only ride on his back if he was really tired. They mostly just walk together, and they have a really close bond. Stoutland is definitely his number one emotional support system.

Tauros, on the other hand, is a pokemon that caught my eye because it matches his zodiac sign (we have the same sign and im a nerd, sue me) and tends to be more stubborn. Which fits, because Jimmy is also stubborn. He literally almost got himself shot because he refused to put advertisements in his newspaper.

I think that since Tauros is naturally built like a tank, it’d make a good battling partner. Jimmy would definitely use it just to intimidate people on the field, and I can see it as one of his main (if not the main) battler. But I also think that it’d have a very sweet nature, and maybe it was one of his first pokemon. It probably tried to kill him when they first met.

And lastly, I’m going to put my foot down and say with confidence that he would have a Nickit on his team.

Just hear me put.

Nathan’s a tricky guy, and he’s also literally the only person in the world that actively hates Jimmy. Jimmy isn’t even really aware of this either. And Nickits are very similar to Nathan in the sense that they often cause trouble.

I think that Nathan, at some point in his quest to make Jimmy’s life terrible (or kill him), gifted him a Nickit as a “friendly gesture” in hopes that it’d cause him trouble. And Jimmy would without a doubt accept the gift.

Nathan’s plans always backfire though, so I think that even if the Nickit caused trouble, Jimmy would find a way to befriend it eventually. He’d probably make an effort to understand it and end up gaining its trust.

Anyways. I think the Nickit would be a fun contrast to Jimmy and could add some small conflicts by stealing and starting shit. And Jimmy would just be chasing it around like “Oh, sorry about that miss, im not sure why hes acting like this today” after nickit steals an entire breadloaf or something (and not for the first time, either— maybe Jimmy has a little too much faith in its ability to behave). Maybe it even joined the Bloods too, who knows.

And thats it?? I had a lot of fun putting this together and coming up with everything. I might change some stuff and draw some stuff later, who knows.

Thanks for reading if you did! I had to get it out of my system.

[wildercrow]

A Meeting With Death by Nuri (SpicyIsopods)

Yet another fall/spooky prompt ("a meeting with death"), which I used as an excuse to tell an important piece of Bethany's story and introduce a minor OC (Fiadh's uncle, Cormac)~

---

Rating: Teen Characters: Bethany Hawke, Cormac Ciar Main Relationship: Bethany & Cormac Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending Words: 570 Content Warnings: Near-death experience, vomit AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50566441 Fic:

Bethany’s feet are already off the ground by the time she realizes what’s happening. She’s so focused on trying to set a hurlock on fire before it can launch an arrow at her mother that she’s barely aware of her own body.

That is, until Carver shouts “Bethy, no!”

Then suddenly all she can think about is her own body, which is in imminent danger of being either crushed or flung by the ogre currently holding her in its grasp. Which in turn makes her feel terribly selfish. How can she worry about herself when her family is—

CRACK.

The last thing Bethany hears before everything goes black is the sound of her own head hitting the ground. But she won’t remember that part later.

~*~*~

When she wakes up, nothing makes sense. Where is she? Where is everyone else? Why does her body barely move when she tells it to? Where did all this blood come from? It’s barely started to dry. It must be fresh.

Her head will hurt later, but not now. Right now she feels nothing at all, really. She hardly feels real as she takes stock of her circumstances with something that is simultaneously panic and complete indifference.

It doesn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep.

~*~*~

The next time she wakes up, it’s to voices right above her. Unfamiliar voices speaking a barely familiar language. The Chasind tongue, if she’s not mistaken. She’s heard enough of it in passing to recognize the way it sounds, even in her current state, but she barely speaks ten words of it on a good day. And today is most certainly not a good day.

She cracks an eye open to see who’s speaking, but the moment the light hits her eye, she shifts from being fully unaware of her body to being all too aware of it. Mostly of the splitting pain in her head and the nausea rapidly flooding her consciousness, bringing with it panic as she realizes she’s about to be sick. She grasps feebly at the stones beneath her in a futile effort to flip herself over.

One of the mystery people – a middle-aged man who appears to have been kneeling at her side – gets the hint and gently rolls her onto her side just in time for her to throw up what little was in her stomach. She’s so relieved not to be on her back that she forgets to be embarrassed about it.

“Glad to see you’re awake!” the man says, now speaking Trade. “Less glad to see further evidence of a brain injury, but we’ll take what we can get! I’m Cormac, my family’s resident healer. We’re fleeing the Blight just like I assume you are – would you be interested in some company and, more importantly, some medical attention?”

Relief washes over Bethany, followed almost immediately by overwhelming guilt as she realizes that not just this man, but his entire family are wasting precious time trying to help her.

For a moment she wants to say no. Tell them to go on without her, that she’s not worth risking their lives over. But then she realizes they’ve already risked their lives for her, so she might as well make it worth their while.

And besides. There’s some little spark within her that doesn’t want to die today.

So she gathers all her meager strength and replies with a half-delirious “uh-huh.”

[upsidedowngrass]

reading your and jaspers posts about bryce with silent admiration because im too scared to contribute but i really love bryce so much hes my girlfriend and my husband and i like hearing u guys talk about him because youre Right. especially as someone who struggled from grief and trauma and being abused i think bryce's case interests me more than any of the other characters (even though liam is my favorite, and it says a lot because i find all of them interesting) because there is so much to him. i doubt he has processed a single thing about what happened. i think stellas death was recent too honestly, within the last few years at least, and he copes by... not coping. burying himself in work and drinking in the hopes to forget about it. not even to mention the fact that in episode 7 it showed him driving home drunk personally i feel he was past the point of caring to the point of engaging in risky/dangerous behaviors (this speaks for itself, i dont think i need to say why). i think that the plane impacted him so much that within those 7 months after leaving he got his shit together. i cant speak for if hes totally sober or not but at the very least he doesn't drink as much as he used to and i doubt he's putting himself in danger anymore. to be honest i think bryce is one of the characters who has changed the most because of the plane, which makes him being rejoined all the more interesting to me. im probably just making shit up but i like to read into it a little more than "bryce and liam were getting along but now theyre separated and liam has to fix it oh no". sorry this ask is kind of word vomit im not in the headspace to tidy it up but i hope you get what i mean

i think if one had continued for longer than it did it would have been interesting to explore bryce finally accepting and coming to terms with his past (him not seeing his childhood home in the wr anymore kind of representing this). i love bryce and he deserves to heal

TY!!!!!!! im glad my thoughts warrant admiration to you :D!!!!!!!!!!! (i will say tho that every time uve ever posted YOURE thoughts i am like ohhhhh.... ur SO RIGHT. i think u have some of the BEST interpretations of the one characters ive seen!!!!!)

(talked SOOO so much .so there is a readmore :) )

brcye really IS such an interesting character???? ik ive said it before but i AM biased towards protagonists so i usually focus on liam but like ...... bryce really IS probably one of the more. indepth ? characters in one in terms of like. background and how he Acts. i think ALL of teh characters are written really incredibly but i think, given how much of his bg is clarified (esp in contrast with how little is shown of the other characters lives pre-one) his motives, personality, emotions all end up being SUPER super elaborate and i REALLY love how he was written ??

(that said i think the reason he IS elaborated on sm is bc like. one doesnt elaborate on character backgrounds like MOST of the time. even charlotte is mostly left up to interpretation, bc one is more about the HOW people respond rather than WHAT made them respond that way. but charlotte and bryce are both outliers, and bryce ESPECIALLY so. because both obviously have Things they havent worked through properly, but bryce is directly just. Living in it. its the fact that he WONT acknowledge the actual Things that hapepned enough to heal that warrants the elaboration. while the other characters stop acknowledging ANYTHING about their lives , save for charlotte, who gradually works out her issues themselves, because THATS whats effecting her, bryce is CONSTANTLY just. he Needs to go back, but his problems ARE about what happened, and the fact that his life outside of the plane was what MATTERED to him, but that even then, he just Wouldnt acknowledge that life when he Needed to. idk if that makes sense but ohhh i think about the decision to elaborate on some characters and to not on others bc it feels Important)

hes so. he mirrors all of the contestants in some ways, but he mirrors amelia a LOT in that both of them respond to trauma by Setting It Aside. like That Trauma Cant Affect Me If I Dont Look At It. like. ur right bryce has NOT processed ANY of his trauma. which like it makes SENSE bc. it prob feels so much easier to him to not think about it by drinking instead, because its a Lot to think about. its a Lot to come to terms with. but bc he WONT acknowledge it but its still AFFECTING him he just gets More and More miserable (the detail about him driving home drunk and not even caring is so. :( )

what IS one of the most. compelling? aspects of his character to me is the way he responded to Everything after getting eliminated. bc it just feels So Real. because he IS healing, not completely, and not in the best way, but he clearly like. started putting SO much work into improving his life??? (the detail of him finally getting an end table for his bed instead of just... using a cardboard box ALWAYS gets to me. and that + the fact that the photo of stella is put up makes it seem like. THATS what was in that box. he LITERALLY started Unpacking thigns. its like poetry to me.) because it IS hard, and i think hes still putting things to the side, shoving the trauma from the plane to the side now instead of all his other grief and trauma. and the removal of the cans from his room yknow?? that hes getting up for work on time now?? its like. yeah i agree idk if hes necessarily SOBER yet but he really does seem like hes working really hard

its not perfect, but its BETTER and it feels. correct?? (and tbh? trying to brush off the plane as a dream isnt even teh worst thing he couldve done with that, i think, bc reasonably what WAS he supposed to do w that experience?? i dont think there WAS a good answer) bc the plane was a whole new kind of trauma. and i think surface level, one would THINK hed get WORSE after further trauma but like. i think he DID in some ways but in the ways that actually affected how he acknowledged and responded to his pre-existing trauma DID get better bc, as he puts it, hed Thrown his life away before, and didnt want to do it again. bc this time, he very well couldve died. and while he was on the plane, being home, on earth was SO much better than the plane, and it recontextualized Everything. hell, maybe after that, the earth finally felt Less daunting, like somewhere he Wanted to be, because for once, he WANTED to be back, and rationalizing That and the fact that he got Lucky, that something Worse couldve just full on Killed Him Forever really DID mean he didnt WANT the worse to come, at least not as much as before. but that meant he HAD to start actually Working on improving things, and i think he may not have Intended to acknowledge Worse things, but simply because the things he had to do to improve his life, like drinking less, making his house more Livable, they all Forced him to think about things More. hes still certainly not thinking about them as much as he Should, hes still not Processing things, but hes Heading in the right direction . he really was SO changed by ONE

and then liam showing up forces him, once again, to think about something he tried to push to the side. aaaaaaaandd then he rejoins and its so. it feels thematically fitting and IS so so SO interessting. because for once in his life hes REALLY facing his trauma head on. but then is brought straight back into it. and i need to think about that aspect more bc those thoughts are a bit less Focused than my other thoughts but given how complex his writing is after he gets OUT, its. SO interesting to think about how being BACK affects him

esp bc like. him starting ep 18 Pissed Off- which historically his responses to trauma are to either just Be Shocked, as depicted a LOT in ep 14, or to get Very Vocally pissed, as shown through the first half of s1, esp ep 6, and ep 11, and ep 13, and ep 18. ive seen it written as 'he doesnt have anywhere to direct the sheer amnt of STRESS and fear so he just. ends up yelling at people bc what else CAN he do' and i think thats?? probably fairly accurate. i dont think hes as Constantly Irritable and Irrationally Angry as fanon presents him , bc it tends to be. excessive. but he DOES get reasonably angry in response to stress !!! i always think abt how his body language in the 'credits' scene of ep 6 look like hes yelling at airy. and im. lays on the ground. i dont even know if thats ever as much 'just anger' as it is Fear and it FUCKS ME UP

but the way i see it, that ties to ep 18 a LOT. because he was really Getting better. hell, what he thought was the WORST that could happen HAPPENED (dying) but he. came out OKAY? its like he was being forced to think about and work through his trauma and he survived and was ok. but being sent back is like. 'oh god i did that all for nothing.' but i think it also sort of?? serves as the Last Push for him to really, REALLY acknowledge the plane (which is why it makes sense so thematically for him to be the rejoiner. he WAS the only contestant whod Chosen to ignore it all. but that has nothing to do with the plane, he cant choose if the plane ignores Him.) past talking about its affects, how its affected people. because after everything hed worked toward, hes Back. hes back, and everyone else is STILL HERE. liam had said they were all still There but seeing them there is a whole other thing. hed SEEN the effects of making it out after 7 months. but he never saw what it was like to still BE there after all that time. and bryce CARES about them (fanon sometimes treats him as if he is a bit. coldhearted? but i think people misattribute him being unhappy with liam as him not caring. i think the problem is that he maybe cares too much, and was affected a LOT, but didnt and doesnt know how to handle that. so he WANTS to ignore it, because it was all he could do, and haaving to backtrack on his haphazard healing from the plane is. highly daunting and uncommfortable and terrifying. thats not being cold though, thats VERY different) and now he HAS to acknowledge Everything, has to be a part of it Again. and i think its a combination of 'liam was here for 7 months after we all thought itd only be a few weeks. Anything could happen. who knows how long ill be here for?' and 'liam didnt have anything when he came back. will I have anything when i come back?? will i have worked so, so hard to heal and fix my life for Nothing?' and 'i dont WANT to be here again.' and 'oh my god all of them Really Really Are Here. Theyve been here the whole time.' and i think all that culminates in an appropriate amount of horror, and that prompts him to do what hes STARTED doing, which was All He Can. and hes pissed off cus hes terrified, so he spurs everyone into pulling out the plug. and then. it doesnt work. it doesnt work and thats the LAST of what he had, and i think iirc hes the LAST one to close his eyes afterwards. because hed BEEN off the plane, hes the one of them who had any hope to give them anymore. and it didnt work

(i also think a lot about how it mustve felt seeing the contestants all so. resigned. because bryce was like that before all this, but ever since one began he was stubborn, and didnt WANT to give up. and i think finding out that these people youd seen try so, so hard just to Handle Any Of This be SO resigned would be. so fucked up. he knew amelia when she was so determined to leave, and while charlotte seems a bit saddened by her resignation, bryce was there BEFORE that happened. he wasnt there like liam or charlotte was to see it gradually develop, and to develop that despair alongside them. all hes seen is that amelia was so determined. and that he may not have known her THAT well before, he knows shes different. he knows she Gave Up and like. GOD. and also i think abt how he mustve Felt seeing the plug for the first time because ehs the only one of them who hadnt seen it before (given its likely all the other characters had, since they casually refer to it). and given the short time frame between him getting there, and the contestants trying to pull the plug? it almost seems that that was like. the last straw. and ive never posted it but i once drew stuff abt it bc. the damage to it is noticable. and i think hes already aware liam was fucked up, but this is like. a tangible, permanent record of that on the plane. and he cares about liam, and has been grappling with all the things liams told him, but thats. thats something he can See. And i think it all of it culminates in him deciding that what hes been avoiding is doing Soemthing about all this, because before he couldnt, and then it was. an awful idea to, and then he didnt have many choices BUT to help. but now theres hardly anything to do, but he has to try. he doesnt want to give up. and it makes me soooooooooooooooooo. head in hands.)

anyway that was a LONG tangent the point is. YEAH. i think rejoining would be. very very significant for his character i dont think youre making shit up its DEFINENTLY a topic w a lot of things to discuss about it

but god. yeah it wouldve been SO nice to see him come to terms with everything hed been through before one. i think the show purposefully included what it did and ended when it did because it makes more sense thematically for it to go unresolved, because the point was that NOTHING was able to be resolved nicely because unfortunately, many things are Out Of Their Control. things COULDVE resolved almost perfect but enough things went wrong at just the right (or more fitting, wrong) time for all of that to not work. i think him no longer seeing the suburbs may have signalled more that maybe, just maybe, he could Do something to help the other contestants even if HE was Dead, that now he finally HAS a goal, if that makes sense (though i think even in the timeline of the series it still wouldve taken way longer for him to process everything Fully, they WERE only in the waiting room for probably about a day) but the idea of finally seeing the waiting room as it is bc hed finally worked through everything .... man.............. man

ik ive already said it though but i DO think it is sooooo so possible for him to heal post canon. im a firm believer that no matter what, at LEAST bryce and ameliaa get home (liam and charlotte have more room for error but i DO generally interpret the ending as them both getting home too, theres just less room for things to go wrong w amelia and bryce). and i think after everything? hed be able to heal. it would SUCK but i think hes, shockingly, in a better place Logistically for things to improve, because he has a support system, he has what hed already worked on in those 7 months, he has so much to aim for. it would be rough and take long but i think ultimately? hed be able to heal :) and its what he deserves

[idyllic-affections]

Not to out myself as a law student but— I've been thinking wayyy too much about law in Teyvat since the start of my contract law course. It may be because I don't know enough lore about this peculiar topic in the game (Please feel free to point it out if what I say doesn't make sense lore-wise) but.... International law must exist in Teyvat in some form, right? At least to regulate international commerce and disputes related to it. I also believe there would be some international meetings. Maybe the archons do not participate in such meetings but they MUST exist, once again if not for discussing the future of Teyvat then for commercial matters. Which also raises the question of the potential existence of ambassadors in Teyvat. Nationality doesn't seem to be such a big deal in Teyvat, but ambassies might be useful for issuing death reports for residents who pass away abroad, navigating foreign police, legal, and medical systems and assisting residents who get arrested or detained abroad! Which reminds me!! There must be some international law concerning criminals in other countries ? Like,,, I haven't played Fontaine's Archon Quest entirely but could Childe ask to do the rest of his sentence in Snezhnaya rather than in Fontaine? Is it even legal for Fontaine's court to try defendants from other nations?? As a Fatui and thus some kind of Snezhnayan diplomat, shouldn't he be tried by his homecountry or in a specific trial formation?

And I've talked about law but maybe the commerce and such is mostly regulated by customs? Which would be so interesting?? It's more flexible than law but it would still be a form of international law. Is there some kind of Warfare international law? Some kind of humanitarian law?? I'll never know.

I'm not even going to mention Liyue's contract law or the way each nation would create juridical or administrative rules, or constitutional matters ('cause you CAN'T tell me that all nations do not have a Constitution— Mondstadt would have to be regulated in some way because of Barbatos' absense and they'd definitely have some human right constitutional document, considering freedom and all). From what I've seen no one have written an essay about any of it. Even on Liyue's contract law. I'm going crazy. Maybe I'll write it myself. I'm thinking way too much about it ughhh. As you can guess, if I were Isekai'd in Genshin I'd be having a field day.  Hopefully you found my word vomit somewhat interesting?

LAW STUDENT?!??!?!?!? doudou that is so cool i hope it is going well for you <3

law in teyvat is SOOO fascinating. all i know for sure is that fontaine laws are internationally considered the hardest to understand. i haven't played fontaine's archon quest yet so who knows? but anyways.

international meetings in teyvat are SO real to me. i think about them really often actually! i personally believe, when it comes to commerce, ningguang and pantalone are the ambassadors for their nations. i'm not sure about the other nations! but i know in my heart its ningguang and pantalone for liyue and snezhnaya respectively. 🫶 i feel like when they meet, they shoot one another dirty looks when they think the other isn't paying attention. i'm soooo normal about them. Anyways.

reading the manga makes it clear that there ARE some kind of proceedings for when diplomats die internationally--if you haven't read the manga, this happens when fatui diplomats die in mondstadt in an ✨️ accident ✨️ and it was handled by dottore, so they were probably his agents. idk i haven't read the manga in a while, but yeah! it wasn't very detailed about how exactly if was handled unfortunately.

AND YEAH???? ARE THEY EVEN ALLOWED TO ARREST CHILDE? i feel like they shouldn't be allowed to? shouldn't he just be deported back to snezhnaya, since he broke the law in a nation he is a noncitizen in? just send him back to snezhnaya bro let his coworkers handle it 🙏🙏🙏🙏 it is true that nationality doesn't seem very relevant in teyvat, but it's clear it does matter in some way (based on what we see in inazuma, where it is a whole HASSLE for the traveler just to get into the main island). of course, it is a fantasy setting, but i do know a little bit about law and fontaine does seem SOOOO confusing LMAO

and yeah i suppose childe is a diplomat--i imagine all of the harbingers are regarded as such. actually i think they would all be regarded as ambassadors? at least, when they get sent to a nation SPECIFICALLY to do their duties. like. la signora was an amassador, dottore was an ambassador, scara was an ambassador, and i imagine arlecchino will also be an ambassador. but i don't think childe is, because he seems to have less responsibilities than his coworkers do when he goes abroad.

anyway it feels weird for him to be tried as a citizen. bro does NOT live there!!!! he is NOT a citizen!!!!

YES YES i imagine the godless nations have constitutions, mainly mondstadt & liyue (but i also think liyue's constitution would have existed before rex lapis' "death" since he... you know, only came around once annually). i don't think snezhnaya or inazuma have constitutions, because tbh they kind of seem very... heavily reliant on their gods. fontaine might have one but it's probably insane LMAOOO and idk about natlan yet. sumeru 100% has one too though!

sumeru also has free healthcare canonically????? bro i want that..... i'm american btw /hj /lh

but you're soooo right this is all so fascinating!!!

[pumpkin-spice-whump]

yellow! its me again!! its much earlier now than the last time i messaged here😗 (though it is still admittedly late🤡) i think i am going to sleep soon but i wanted to tell you that i had begun reading your story for Kensington!

i am currently at Bonfire (i think that was the name? im sorry if i butchered or mistaken it for other fics i have been reading😖) and like your stories for Jesse, Kensington's story is also incredibly painful to read😭

i think its the fact that unlike Jesse, Kesi has (arguably) even less dignity as his status as an ouright slave rather than at least a pet or boxboy coupled by the fact he also has (definitively? at least in my interpretation) much much less external reason/s to continue struggling and living (i guess there is Miss Ashley🥺 but Jesse at least got to spend so much more time with the three sweet Bakeman daughters)(i dont want to spoil much to not ruin the others' experience)

i know the two squishy whumpees arent exact copies of each other but i still find it so deliciously heartwrenching that Jesse is much more submissive mostly in part because of the bbu brainwashing or mind/memory wiping (i think this is common in bbu whump so i think its okey for me to mention it explicitly?) while Kensi who (i understand/interpret) was born and raised and lived his whole life as a slave is much more stubborn and defiant.

again i apologize if im missing or misinterpreting something also i know i cant or at least maybe shouldnt draw direct parallels between the two because theyre from two similar but still different worldbuildings with their own set of messed up rules and hiarchies.🤸‍♂️💔

again again it is late and i hope to fix my sleep schedule soon so i can read your works and message you when my braincells can organize my brain goop into something more coherent. i really hope you understand that all this word vomit is laced with love🤕💗

-💌

When i tell you that yesterday and today's asks both made my crappy days instantly better --

First of all thank you so much for reading both of my boys' stories and I'm so glad you like them

Yes, Jesse is extremely submissive in part because of the brainwashing WRU does, but also because Joshua was like that too. His dad passing away when he was younger gave him pretty severe OCD and anxiety that made Josh an unassuming, nervous boy, so his already quiet disposition was only worsened when coupled with the torture he had to face. One thing that always stuck with him though is his protectiveness over those he cares about. WRU did not give that to him, that was just Jesse.

Kensington's story takes place in a different universe where they do have a slavery system where slaves are born and raised that way. I like that you mentioned that Kensi is more stubborn and jaded, because that was not how I meant for him to turn out originally! I meant for him to be more submissive like Jesse, but the more I wrote the angrier Kensington got until I really came to a head in his story (can't wait for you to read the next few parts!)

Never apologize for analyzing my characters! I live for it, and I actually appreciate you drawing parallels between these two. They may be from different worlds, but they both come from me and I enjoy seeing them compared to one another actually! We're to a point in both stories that I have been very excited to come to and this gave me the motivation to keep writing!

(Sorry if my response doesn't make sense or isn't what you were looking for!)

[twd-obsessed-bitch]

Is it just me or does 6 episodes not feel like enough for the amount of story building they were tryna do. I feel like a lot of things went unanswered and like I know thats the point of a cliff hanger and that we're getting a season two but

Spoilers

We barely know who this woman is that the Croat took Negan too, we met her TWICE one of the times being when Negan met her.

And yet we're supposed to be concerned and scared of her, and the hold she has on Hershel, even though she cut off his toe?? And kept it???

Like I can see her becoming like the other mother in Coraline and playing a part of a doting woman who cares solely for Hershel, and how that would make Hershel kinda stockholmed into liking her etc. But you can't start that by cutting off his toe. Actually cutting off his toe at any part during the process would kinda fuck it up, would it not???

Speaking of Hershel, he's so angsty, and I love it to an extent but like where's the background for it? Where's the reasoning why he feels so cut off from his mom to borderline hate her for everything she does, including saving him?? Why does he feel the way he does. He's got about as much development as RJ in the main series and just is coming across as a whiny teen to me, I might be reading his character wrong but it's my opinion atm

And then you got new Babylon, and we have literally no explanation about them, barely even spoken exposition being like "oh yes new Babylon the people who are trying to bring back the old world and it's rules and are succeeding" like there's just barely that. That's all we know about them.

It doesn't help that pretty much the whole of episode 5 was just them walking through the sewers and not really doing much else, and that was mostly just to kill off Tommaso and Amaia, and to see the walked king. It was an hour long EP that got like a good 25 minutes of anything done besides walking.

So they basically wasted it.

And like don't get me wrong, I did enjoy the series, this isn't me saying I hated it or anything. Im just... Underwhelmed? Like it's been so hyped up as something newer than the main series, in a city that nobodies explored, that they made to be an epicenter for the whole thing. And its just kinda the same plots as the main series done a little bit differently by giving the viewer less knowledge of what's going on.

Like we kept getting that flashback to when the croat took Hershel, and he's screaming for Maggie and Maggie is screaming for him, and I thought they'd give us more, show us the conversation they had or something along those lines. But the extension of the scenes is just a wider angled shot of Maggie looking upset. It's underwhelming

And maybe that's on me for expecting more from AMC than what they've given us, and maybe I need to rewatch it to pick up on the things I might've missed the first time around. But like, overall, I'm underwhelmed and wished they used the 6 episodes more to their advantage or greenlit them for some more episodes in the season.

Cause like season one of the main series, that was 6 episodes, and every single episode was stuffed full of story telling and character building and exposition. It threw you into the world from minute one. Dead city is kinda just relying on you knowing the characters and their backstory and using that without expanding any further even though we have no idea who the Croat and his people are, who the marshals of new Babylon are, no clue who Hershel has grown into, or what happened in the time jump with Negan and Annie and their son.

This is really long, so anybody that's read it thanks lol, it's all kinda just word vomit so I hope it made sense.

[dragon-communion]

Was doing a little warmup with my favorite OC to bully. Introducing: Kell.

•••

Getting dragged through the multiverse by an overenthusiastic houseplant was not Kell's idea of a good time, and they maintained this opinion with steadfast but increasingly frayed determination in the face of the fuckoff huge tree made of sunlight.

Somewhere between the cerebellum and the soul, there was a distinctly smug rustling of dark leaves, phantom thorns coiling across their shoulders like manicured claws.

"....what is this, a family reunion? I'm not interested in meeting your cousins." Clearing their throat and shuttering their expression, Kell glanced away and curled their lip derisively at the array of shattered crates and rotted rope littering the dubiously safe flagstones. The chapel had more hole than roof, and the wind was vicious when it wasn't being fickle.

Ahedres always took them to the nicest places.

There was an unhappy noise of protest like teeth scraping bone, and Kell rolled their eyes at it before continuing to poke around carefully, mindful of the edge. The place was mostly a wind-blasted ruin, with some sort of weather-stained deity or saint overlooking the shattered pews in grim benediction. Kell sneezed, violently, and took a few hasty steps back... but if this place belonged to a god once, it was now as much of a moldering box as the crates outside.

Resssst, purred dead branch and withered petal, cold salt briefly overwhelmed by the velvet scent of decay. Nothing lives here.

"Someone has to live here, or else you wouldn't have dragged me along." Its favorite form of entertainment was making Kell talk to strangers in some effort to see the beauty of life, smell the roses, or perhaps just annoy them into finally biting someone. It was hard to say. At least Kell occasionally found some interesting books into the bargain, but this place hadn't seen a book in years. Minimum.

No, murmured the shadows between stones, nothing lives here. Not even you.

Kell tetched, side-eyeing the statue again to be safe. "Of course I don't live, I'm-"

Dead.

Oh this absolute motherfucker.

I do not fuck, the motherfucker chimed in helpfully over the sound of Kell's internal screaming. Though you are welcome to try.

"Every day," they prayed fervently, dropping down to sit at the foot of the statue and tilt their head up to the strange, too-harsh light, "I hope that you're just a nightmare in my head. That all of this is a dream, and I can wake back up in my familiar hell with the sounds of dismemberment through the wall and nothing to keep me company but carvings and coffins. It was nice knowing what to expect every day, you realize that?"

The dead things did not talk back.

"True," and Kell pushed down the yearning for that old tomb to finally speak, to vomit up answers like black bile and finally make sense, "but the dead are terrible for conversation, even when they answer. Better to leave them alone."

Above them, the rain-blackened hand of the nameless saint stretched out like a withered branch. The gap-toothed hole in the roof howled faintly in the sea air, perhaps a breath away from crashing in entirely, and still that beckoning saint seemed to say go.

For the briefest moment, the graven robes were almost heavy wool, and starless eyes peered down from a cracked face.

The thing rooting in their head and heart did not speak. Kell did not speak, either, but let the image of that glowing tree fill their thoughts for a long, long moment, until they groaned like a rusting door and smacked a hand against their knee, levering themself back up to stand.

"Am I kidding myself, or were those sunbeams... treebeams... made of words?"

Do you want to find out?

Kell grunted, flicked a lock of hair over their shoulder, straightened their sleeves and swatted the dust off their ass.

They did, indeed, want to find out.

[darkimpala1897]

Twenty questions for fic authors!!

Tagged by @clevenhq

@austeenbootler @spinteresting @onyxsboxes

Sorry if you've been tagged already, also anyone else wanting to join.

How many work on ao3???

I have 149 works.

What's your total ao3 word count?

506,180 words!

What fandoms do you write for?

Masters Of The Air duh and Stranger Things, Fear The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead and other fandoms sprinkled in there.

Top 5 fics by kudos

Cheaper By The Dozen Or Annie- 9-1-1, 196 kudos

Pebble- Masters Of The Air, 119 kudos

Oh My- Masters Of The Air, 103 kudos

Right Round- Stranger Things, 89 kudos

Gimme Some Lovin'- Masters Of The Air, 88 kudos

Do you respond to comments??

Sometimes! I have terrible anxiety, so just know I love them. It makes me feel like I'm doing my job correctly. It's just coming up with a response never works out.

What is the fic with the angstiest ending?

Originally this would have gone to Windy 100th but @trashbag-baby666 convinced me to end it happy, so I guess it goes to Bubble's Final Moments or I Always Thought It'd Be You And Me or Hold On or Sacrifice or Final Moments, any one of those.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Windy 100th and Chronicles Of Hambone it's a tie at least for me.

Do you get hate on your fics?

Once but that might have just been criticism, but my anxiety took that as hate. But other than that no!

Do you write smut?

Yes and it's so fun to write, but it's difficult to write even though I love to write it.

Craziest crossover?

Stranger Things and Band Of Brothers, though I never posted it because who would read that, so I broke it down into lore and now its locked away.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of, but I really do hope no one has burrowed my stuff without asking.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No not that I'm aware of, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone has translated it for themselves.

All time favorite ship?

This is very tough, it would be like picking a favorite child. But if I had to pick it be:

Mota- dougbone

What's a wip you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hmm the raising Ham series, so many ideas just can't seem to get it from my brain.

What are your writing strengths??

Definitely not grammar, but my humor for sure, and the fact I can write decent smut, and the fact that I'm so versatile whether it be fluff, angst, or anything.

What are your writing weakness?

Grammar, me and grammar don't get along, mostly because I word vomit and hope it all makes sense in the end.

First fandom you wrote in?

Grimm, though that fic is definitely something don't go looking for it.

Favorite fic you've ever written?

I really love Sin In The Name Of A Loving God, but Heavenly Day that fic I love it so much, but I absolutely adore all of my Mota fics.

[steadfastmockingbird]

A career in wildlife rescue is not in my future.

We found a badly injured and very much in-shock pigeon (it let me walk over to it and pick it up without any resistance, and was uh... bloody) in my mother's garden, and took it in to an emergency vet to be euthanized, and I've been crying for over an hour.

I'm trying to tough it out and say it's just a pigeon, but nothing deserves to be alone in the dark, especially stuck on the ground exposed, alone and in pain, in the dark - away from its roost and familiar surroundings, hungry and acutely aware that at any moment one of the myriad of outdoor cats in the area could decide to use it as five minutes of entertainment. We took it to a vet so it wouldn't have to have a cold, slow, painful death.

I'm trying to tough it out and say it's just a pigeon, but I'd want that same compassion for me, I think. If I was found hiding in a dark corner, bringing up blood and with bits of me broken, I'd want to at the very least be wrapped up warm and have the pain go away, even if I couldn't be fixed. Do I deserve that if I can't extend the same compassion to other creatures?

I'm trying to tough it out and say it's just a pigeon, but if I say just a pigeon what does that make everything else? Just a cat? Just a dog? Just a person? Just me? Maybe I need to re-frame it; to me it's just one pigeon, but to that pigeon, I made a whole world of difference. If I can afford to care, and clearly right now I can, why shouldn't I? How does toughing it out help me at all?

To her absolute credit, the emergency vet who was working this evening (a Sunday, I sincerely hope she's getting GREAT overtime pay) was very understanding and reassured me that we weren't silly or wasting her time, and that the pigeon would be gently put to sleep. She thanked me and my partner for having compassion.

What am I trying to do here? Mostly I'm trying to stop myself crying. There's nothing particularly deep. I'm just vomiting words on a page in the hope that when I come back to this later it makes some sense.

[kaustic]

Yea no definitely I was on the outskirts of septiplier… so I def get you and yea screenshotting posts and sending hate is so dumb

I think I got a hate anon the other day for posting and reblogging jack neg like I think it was from someone who I sent an anon too like asking about why they’re calling Dream ugly and stuff it’s someone who used to be in the fandom not just some random anti… like I don’t have proof it was them but I feel like it was but like there’s a difference in me reblogging stuff about not liking jack and insulting dreams looks… Tbf I did forget to tag them at first so maybe that was their problem with it and in the end I wound up deleting it and I can’t prove and don’t care to prove it was them it’s just a hunch but anyways

Yea idk like shipping is fun I like shipping DNF it’s cool it’s cute and all but yea people get way too pressed sometimes and I mean from both sides but it can seem like a little too much from the other side

Like a few weeks ago I had sent someone an anon like we were discussing MCC teams and the subject started as Dream and George and stuff and like teams for them and someone had said Tommy and Tina and that reminded me (I have ADHD djdhxh so I make connections a lot) of Tina,foosh,Tubbo, and Punz playing valo and made me think of like would any variation of those five be too OP and I like jokingly apologized for getting off the subject and the person didn’t even give me an answer they like said I wasn’t gonna get one I think because I strayed from DNF and I was just like ?!? Like idk I know it was probably/lh and just my emotions being stupid but I was asking a genuine question and couldn’t get an answer all because I made a connection to Tina and strayed from DNF teams like…

Also very glad to be giving you some hope! I just kinda word vomit mostly so when it makes sense and people enjoy it it makes me happy

yeah no shipping dnf is a ton of fun! i just now feel like i have to do most of it in private because of how weird people have gotten about it. or maybe they've always been weird and my tolerance for things has just lessened and lessened. its. god yeah, i just wish people could think about things with their brains. people get so serious about this stuff when it really is meant to be fun and not creepy or weird

BUT YES THAT VALO GROUP WOULD BE SO GOOD I WOULD WATCH THE SHIT OUT OF THAT!!!

[yanankim]

Idk you well and I’m usually all for people speaking about their controversial opinions but also since I don’t know you well I’m just hoping it isn’t pure hatred and vitriol for a person or something (bcs I have zero idea what the censored thing is. Maybe Dawn related?? I feel like he’s the thing most people have acidic ideas over lol, it fits your censor and he also has a small fanbase)

uhm okay it is *kinda* dawn related but not really. its under the read more bc yeah

naughty boy's entire era leaves just a really bad taste in my mouth. dont get me wrong, i love the entire mini and i know the boys put so much effort into it, but it was their first comeback without all of the members. i mean, during half of gorilla era shinwon had to sit out and critical beauty yanan couldnt be in live stages, but they at least got to participate in the songs. naughty boy was the first time they were.. incomplete? i suppose? and it was just a time filled with so much uncertainty. we werent even sure if yanan was gonna come back, especially after it was confirmed that dawn got kicked. for the longest time, i couldnt even listen to any of the songe on the album bc it just felt so empty without either of their voices. hell, you could *hear* where dawns voice was supposed to go in naughty boy.

its an era that, even though im able to listen to the songs now and not feel this emptiness, i still cant fully enjoy it. what makes it worse for me is that they were riding off of the coattails of shine's success. they had the entire kpop community's eyes on them as they had to go through losing a member and criticism over making a shine copycat and so much uncertainty. i still remember kino crying at a fanmeet and reporters asking them questions about dawn leaving and them having to be civil about everything.

and as much as i love naughty boy as a song now, its so obvious they WERE trying to capitalize on shine's success. thats not a criticism! shine is a good song and so is naughty boy and it introduced ptg's now well-known fun concepts! but hui has also talked about how ever since shine, he hasnt been able to make songs with such a carefree attitude. he constantly has to make songs with the success of shine looming over him and how cube is trying to push him into making a hit like it again.

the reason why im scared to say all of this is that when naughty boy was released, a LOT of unis were just.. awful. it was more of a problem on twt, but i saw my fair share of tumblr unis being disgusting too. they all said that it was okay to take ur time and heal from dawn leaving however long it took, but as soon as someone was open and vocal about their hurt, they would be called a fake uni! if you didnt support hyundawn, you were a fake uni; if you didnt support dawn's solo debut, you were a fake uni; if you posted hui crying during bomnari; if you are ot10; if you are ot9— all of it somehow signaled that you werent an ACTUAL ptg stan or that you were a bad person. ive talked about this before, but there are a handful of big-name unis (specifically on twt i dont think any of them are active on here anymore) that tote a Specific Way Of Being A Universe and if you Werent That, then you were somehow doing it wrong. they were are are super protective of the boys, and i get it, theyve been through shit and i want to protect them to, but it was getting to the point of sending hate to other unis for simply being a uni in a different way.

im ot10. i was pretty vocal about it in the past. in my eyes, pentagon will always be 10. they talked about how pentagon wouldnt be pentagon if it werent the 10 of them, dawn got a bigass 10 tattoo on his hip, they fought tooth and nail to debut as 10. to me, that signifies that, if it werent for cube, they would still be 10.

ive stopped being vocal about it because there are a few ot9 stans that tell ot10 stans to get over it. it happened years ago. theyre 9 now, so theres no point on being ot10.

ptg are my ults. they still are. they debuted the same month i tried to kill myself, and while recovering, their debut album was the only thing i could listen to. it comforted me in a way i cant explain now. i think thats why dawn leaving had such an impact on me, and why i had to take a break from everything for months after he left.

theres so much in-fighting that ive seen within the universe community. its hostile and bitter and i hate it. its died down since shalala, but i still see it. it makes me sick to my stomach.