An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
My @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @deathshadowrules! Some post-canon moonrot, please enjoy!
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Vampires SMP Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Pearl | PearlescentMoon/ZombieCleo Characters: Pearl | PearlescentMoon, ZombieCleo (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Flashbacks Summary:
Some of Cleo and Pearl's conversations in the time after the curse on Oakhurst is lifted.
Fic below the cut:
One day after the curse is lifted, Cleo and Pearl have a lot to talk about, and a lot to do.
First they tour the area around Oakhurst that everyone had been trapped in, the land they'd decided to protect. They find some bodies, and give them proper graves; even the ones that didn't seem to deserve them. Especially the ones that didn't seem to deserve them. At the end of the day they end up back on the path, two ways to go: the ruined and partially rebuilt castle, or the rebuilt and then ruined town.
"You know, we could move into the castle now," Pearl says. "Who's gonna stop us? We have the whole place to ourselves for the next century!"
"And then humans are gonna show up. What's the first impression we wanna give, massive castle or… a house?" Cleo raises an eyebrow. "I say we go for a house. Makes it clear that we're normal people, too."
Pearl nods. "Cottagecore vibes, and all that."
"More importantly," Cleo adds, "Do you have any idea how much work it'll be to continue restoring that castle? I don't, but I don't want to find out."
Pearl snorts. "I mean, it's not like we don't have the time. But, you do make good points. We'll do your plan, sire," she says, amused.
At that, Cleo's voice turns sharp. "Don't call me that."
"Sorry. Just a joke."
"I know, but…" Cleo exhales. "And don't do what I say just because I'm your sire. Or your elder, or whatever."
"Well of course not," Pearl says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "If you ever have a bad idea I'll tell you, Cleo, don't worry." After a few seconds, she adds: "…Are you my elder? You don't look it. You were human before getting here, weren't you?"
Cleo hesitates. Then opens her mouth to speak. Then hesitates again. Finally, she says: "It's a long story."
"Alright," Pearl replies. And for the first day, that's the end of that. They continue talking about the work ahead of them: which buildings to restore and which to allow falling into ruin, how they'll feed themselves, mundane things. The sun sets and rises on their discussions.
. - . - .
One week after the curse is lifted, Pearl asks.
She's sitting next to Cleo, having a rest after chopping some wood for their cottage. They're quiet. Pearl is the more talkative one, but ever since the most urgent tasks around Oakhurst have been finished, she's found it harder and harder to come up with things to talk about. Her mind just keeps circling back to… it.
She has to ask.
"Cleo… I'm sorry." is how she starts. "Do you think we have time for a long story now?"
Cleo inhales slowly through her nose, then exhales the same way. "Do you trust me, Pearl?"
Pearl hesitates a beat— only a metaphorical one, of course. Then she says: "I do."
"Then can you trust me to keep this to myself?"
Again, Pearl hesitates. Rationally, she shouldn't trust this. She hunts monsters that hurt others; that's been her modus operandi from the moment she started this work. And that's what been bothering her: Cleo has hurt others. They've killled others, they've told her so themself.
But Pearl also trusts her gut. Cleo didn't sound proud of the killing. Pearl's seen plenty of monsters that fake remorse, and Cleo is not one of those. Somehow she's certain of that.
So she nods. "Can you at least tell me how you're older than me?"
Cleo sighs, but then nods. "I was a thrall."
"Vampires were never my specialty, mate, I don't know all the terminology," Pearl replies softly, earning a snort from Cleo. "What's a thrall?"
"A human that's been fed vampire blood. A lot of it. It… increases the lifespan, among other things." Cleo looks away, at a cow in the distance. "I'm thirsty," she mutters, and stalks off. Pearl doesn't pursue. They'll come back soon enough.
. - . - .
One month after the curse is lifted, Cleo tells Pearl.
They and Pearl are on an expedition further out from the town, looking for more livestock. The herds around Oakhurst are thinning, and the two of them have been rationing their crimson for a bit. The trip is quiet. Cleo is thirsty, and this is the particular type of thirst that reminds her of before, living at the mercy of Aric's blood. She appreciates Pearl's ever-cheerful commentary, but she can't bring up more response than the occasional hum in agreement.
"Wait! Look!" Pearl calls out, poining forward. "Sheep!"
Cleo looks up at once. "Oh, finally!" she says, with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. She and Pearl jog towards the sheep, claws poised, veins growling.
Pearl reaches the flock first, but waits for Cleo to get there before attacking. Wouldn't be good to scare the sheep before they can get their claws on one. "Go on, Cleo, dig in!" Pearl says cheerfully, and Cleo is ready to do exactly that, and-
and suddenly they're fourteen again, looking a shaking, tied-up human in the eyes, Aric's impatient gaze boring into them from behind. "Go on, Cleo," he would say. "We're waiting." The blood would burn in Cleo's veins, and she would slit the victim's throat with a dagger modeled after her master's own claws. "I'm sorry," she would mouth, but the remorse would be accompanied by equal parts relief as her master was satified.
Now, a sheep is looking them in the eye, slow and meek and innocent, and just as before, Cleo needs to kill it. Just as before, Cleo tears into its skin with a shining claw and hears its scream choke on blood. The only difference is the relief now comes from putting her own mouth on its neck and drinking. Just as before, someone smiles a bloody smile at Cleo from behind. Just as before, Cleo feels relief, and hates themself for it.
Pearl's smile fades. "Hey, wait, Cleo, are you alright?" Cleo hears her say through their sobs. When did they start sobbing? A hand touches their shoulder, and Pearl crouches besides them as they continue feeding and feeding and feeding.
Eventually the sheep is emptied out, and Cleo gasps for air. Pearl gently wipes blood and tears off of their cheek. "Aw, Cleo," she says softly, "If I'd known you were this hungry, I'd have let you have more of the bottles." There's little more than bones left of the sheep Pearl got— she'd clearly been hungry too.
"No," Cleo brings out. "That's not- you wouldn't have to do that. I can handle hunger-" she pauses a second as she feels her body get filled, rejuvenated again. "I can handle hunger. I just- got reminded of something."
"From before? When you were a thrall?" Pearl guesses. She looks down at the bloodless carcass that Cleo made. "Does sheep blood taste like vampire blood?"
"No- What?" Cleo can barely get out two words before breaking down into a laugh. It's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. How does Pearl do that? After everything she's seen the past months, how is she still the same cheerful, curious, silly person? Anyone else, and Cleo would be infuriated. Now they just want to laugh.
Pearl smiles apologetically. "I told you, I don't know how the vampire stuff works."
Cleo sighs, then starts up laughing again. They pull Pearl into a hug and the two of them sit there for a bit, giggling, getting blood all over each other's clothes. "Never change, Pearl," Cleo says after composing themself.
"I'll try not to."
Cleo huffs as she lets go of Pearl. "No, the thing about being a thrall is… you're living off the blood of somebody else, and that means their desires become your desires. So whenever he- my master wanted me to do something… I would want it too." Cleo looks at the ground. "Even the worst things."
"Oh." Cleo looks up to see Pearl looking at the ground too, processing this. "So that's why you…"
"Yeah." There's not much else to say. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," Cleo mumbles. She could have chosen not to kill anyone. She could have chosen to bear the pain rather than give in to it. She could have chosen to choke on Aric's blood rather than keep drinking it, eighty years long.
Pearl hums, a dissatisfied rumble. "This 'master'… he's dead now, right?"
Cleo nods. "Yeah. I wouldn't be here, otherwise."
"Good. I was worried I'd have another job to do."
Cleo manages to chuckle at that. Pearl gives her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, then gets up to look at the flock of sheep that fled a little ways away. "Are we good to take these guys back to Oakhurst?" she asks.
"You go on ahead with some of them," Cleo replies. "I'll catch up with the rest. Just give me a moment."
"Okay!" says Pearl. "Just don't take too long, or I'll get sad, alright?" With those words, she starts bounding towards the sheep. They turn to look at her, having already forgotten the bloodshed from earlier.
"I won't!" Cleo calls at her, then turns her attention to a few stragglers that fled into the nearby forest. After all that, she'd rather feed without any eyes on her.
. - . - .
One year after the curse is lifted, the ruins of Oakhurst are clean. Around its broken beacon a library has been built and filled with books scavenged from the nearby ruins. And outside its walls, a flock of sheep grazes a fenced-off meadow, and a quaint cottage houses two vampires.
Cleo and Pearl keep a low profile. They've had only a handful of visitors in the past year, and though they try to look as human as possible, the few that've stayed a night have always left in a hurry the next morning. Cleo supposes that's for the best. Pearl is the only company they have, and the only company they need. It's a nice change, after spending her life in a crowded coven under her mother's watch, then her master's thumb.
She still prefers to feed alone. But once that's done, she's glad she can come home to Pearl.
