Everything about him felt different. Was it that obvious to the casual onlooker, too? The Corinthian had hoped he was doing a better job of hiding it, but he felt awful.
The first thing that indicated to him something was wrong, was when he fell asleep.
Nightmares don't sleep.
And when he woke up, he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His limbs felt heavy, his stomach ached, his head pounded in a way he'd never experienced before. He had stepped outside in the hopes fresh air would cure him, or at least he would put distance between himself and whatever cursed object was causing this misery. He subsequently discovered that balance was harder to maintain and the sun was too damn bright.
Cain had obviously spotted his disorientation even before the Nightmare had noticed the encroaching Demon and tried to play it cool. His smile was too forced, tightly stretched over grinding teeth.
The Corinthian's brows furrow over his dark shades when the coincidence of him stumbling into the Demon out here in this condition slowly sinks in. What was Cain doing out this close to the motel?
He attempts to stand up straighter and disguise just how poorly he must seem for Cain to comment that he does not trust his legs, only for him to realise he had been slouching against a tree. The attempts made to right himself only ended with both hands grappling with the trunk and the world being taken for a wild spin.
"I'm..." He was going to say fine, but that wasn't true at all, was it?
Swallowing down the tight burning in his throat, he raises his head again to realise Cain had moved. A disoriented swing of his head searching for his missing company only to find him in the process of dragging a dead deer towards his truck.
He huffs out softly as he musters up the strength to lean off the tree and teeter after Cain and the beast he was dragging.
"I'm reacting to something, I think... Some magical bullshit."
Everything about him felt different. Was it that obvious to the casual onlooker, too? The Corinthian had hoped he was doing a better job of hiding it, but he felt awful.
The first thing that indicated to him something was wrong, was when he fell asleep.
Nightmares don't sleep.
And when he woke up, he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His limbs felt heavy, his stomach ached, his head pounded in a way he'd never experienced before. He had stepped outside in the hopes fresh air would cure him, or at least he would put distance between himself and whatever cursed object was causing this misery. He subsequently discovered that balance was harder to maintain and the sun was too damn bright.
Cain had obviously spotted his disorientation even before the Nightmare had noticed the encroaching Demon and tried to play it cool. His smile was too forced, tightly stretched over grinding teeth.
"you're back.. it's been a while." says the drunken hunter perched half on and half off the barstool he was found upon. "thought, maybe, you got lost somewhere in the great out there." chin nudges in the direction of the exit before green eyes meet those behind the shaded glasses. he's come to memorize the way his reflection darks back at him in polished onyx. hasn't forgotten that. as if he could.
It had been a while, hadn't it?
The Corinthian hadn't been intending on returning. He had hoped putting distance between himself and the green eyed beauty who had enraptured his attention would ease the strange...comfort he had begun to associate with Dean's presence. Getting close to mortals only ended one way, with bloodsoaked hands and a moment of brief satisfaction. Followed by a strange ache, knowing they would never speak again.
"I guess I couldn't stay away." The Nightmare drawls with his usual charm as he slips onto the stool beside Dean. Time was running short, now. The Major Arcana had enough awareness to recognise that his Maker was bearing down upon him. So what was the harm in visiting old friends?
Castiels' answer is surprising in many ways. One, because he actually seems to be permitting this, and two, the Angel almost sounded flirtatious. If he hadn't delivered that line in his same monotonous tone laced with dire warning, the Corinthian might have thought it to be intentional.
The fact that Castiel isn't flirting flies straight over the stranger's head. Not that the Corinthian really cares about this third wheel. This wasn't about the sex. It was about proving a point.
But nevertheless, the Nightmare plays into the narrative with flirtatious ease.
"Search me as thoroughly as you like." He grins at the angel, before serving their company a sly wink.
It was safe to say the Corinthian did not expect such a thorough frisking from the Angel in the middle of a packed out bar. He releases a sound of choked surprise that is almost animalistic in its pure disbelief when Castiel steps up to him and begins rifling through his hair like there is something he could be hiding up there.
The fresh mortals cheeks flush with a rising burst of heat that he is wholly unfamiliar with, and he is suddenly acutely aware of the weight of a dozen eyes upon him watching this bizarre scenario play out. Embarrassment was an emotion he was still unused to, yet it was becoming a far more prominent feeling in Castiels company the longer he remained in this mortal form.
He could not help but attempt to bat Castiels hands away on occasion when the Angels searching bordered on fucking ridiculous. He hadn't been touched by someone else since turning mortal, and the duality of sensation being borderline heavenly, but coming from Castiels tone deaf frisking was threatening to make him scream. By the time Cas had stooped to stick his fingers beneath his laces, the Corinthian felt fit to try and kick the asshole in the head.
He found himself unable to make eye contact with the man in fishnets when Castiel finally stood back up. His throat feeling painfully tight as he forces down a swallow and shoots Castiel a glare that he hopes conveys how fucking stupid the Angel really is.
That scornfully offered permission, followed by the blatant threat, makes that horrid pool of discomfort in his chest reach a tipping point. He stands there, seemingly fit to start shaking with an influx of emotions he doesn't fully understand. And when his limbs do finally decide to move, they aren't carrying him towards the pretty man whom he had been flirting with. They're taking him towards the door of the bar, away from the Angel and the stranger who promised a good time.
Below are a series of sentence starters that vary in levels of toxicity. Level one being the least toxic, all the way to level three being the most. (TW: Abuse)
Level One
❛ I should walk away from you, but we both know I won’t. ❜
❛ Be angry if you want, just don’t be gone. ❜
❛ Oh, now you want my attention? Funny how that works. ❜
❛ If you didn’t want me to assume things, you shouldn’t act so damn suspicious. ❜
❛ If loving you ruins me, then so be it. I was halfway ruined before you anyway. ❜
❛ Every time you leave, I lose my mind a little more. ❜
❛ If loving you is a mistake, I’ll make it again and again. ❜
❛ I’d rather fight with you every day than feel nothing with anyone else. ❜
❛ I’m not jealous, I just don’t trust your taste in people. ❜
❛ You always say you’re ‘busy,’ but somehow you’re never too busy for everyone else. ❜
❛ You see the monster in me and still keep coming back. Why? ❜
❛ You’re the only thing that makes me feel anything. That’s the problem. ❜
❛ You think anyone else will love the worst parts of you like I do? ❜
❛ You say I’m too much, yet you’re still here. Interesting. ❜
❛ Don’t get offended. I’m just being honest—something you should try sometime. ❜
❛ Pretend all you want, I know exactly which buttons to push. ❜
❛ Don’t act like you’re innocent. You knew exactly what you were doing when you let me in. ❜
❛ I want all of you. Even the parts you only show when you’re at your lowest. ❜
❛ You don’t need to love me perfectly. Just let me be the one you fall apart with. ❜
❛ You wouldn’t last a day without me keeping you from screwing everything up. ❜
❛ Don’t play innocent. You know exactly what effect you have on me. ❜
❛ You want honesty? Fine. You’re my weakness and my favorite obsession. ❜
❛ I don’t need to control you. You already bend the second I raise my voice.❜
Level Two
❛ Tell me who that was. And don’t lie, your face gives everything away. ❜
❛ I don’t like sharing. You know that. So why keep testing me? ❜
❛ You always say I’m obsessive, but you never tell me to stop. ❜
❛ Tell me you’re mine. I don’t care if you mean it. ❜
❛ I’ve memorized every version of you. Don’t insult me by pretending you’ve changed. ❜
❛ If you actually didn’t care, you wouldn’t react every time I walk into the room. ❜
❛ If you’re going to leave, do it now, before I start begging. ❜
❛ You don’t have to love me... you just have to stay where I can reach you. ❜
❛ Don’t walk away from me. You know you belong right here. ❜
❛ Don’t lie. You like it when I chase you. ❜
❛ Tell me you hate me. At least it’s honest. At least it’s attention. ❜
❛ You don’t get to shut me out. Not anymore. ❜
❛ I don’t need your forgiveness… I just need you. ❜
❛ Hurt me, break me, just don’t replace me. ❜
❛ Don’t pretend it wasn’t deliberate. Everything you do is always deliberate with me.❜
❛ I don’t need everyone to like you. Just me. Only me. ❜
❛ This is honesty. I'm the only one that's ever honest with you. Maybe you should appreciate it sometime instead of complaining. ❜
❛ Don’t pretend you’re scared of me. You’ve stayed too long for that. ❜
❛ If you walk out that door, don’t expect me to recover from it. ❜
❛ If loving you destroys me, I hope it’s slow. I want to feel every second of it. ❜
❛ Say you don’t want me. Go on. You won’t, and we both know it.❜
Level Three
❛ I’d burn down the whole world if it meant you’d look at me the same way again. ❜
❛ You can’t fix me, but I won’t let you leave either. ❜
❛ If you leave, I won’t sleep. I’ll just sit here and wait for you to come back. ❜
❛ I don’t want a healthy love. I want you. ❜
❛ You dragged me into the dark with you. Don’t you dare try to leave me in it alone. ❜
❛ Go ahead, run. I’ll catch you like I always do. ❜
❛ You think I’m addicted to you? I am. Happy now?❜
❛ You’re the only thing in my head. It’s terrifying and I hate that I don’t want it to stop. ❜
❛ I don’t want your apology. I want your loyalty. ❜
❛ You don’t get it. I’m not asking you to stay. I’m telling you I’m not losing you. ❜
❛ I’d kill the parts of myself you hate if it meant you’d stay. ❜
❛ I don’t want the world. I just want the version of you that only I get to see. ❜
❛ Stop pretending you don’t crave this as much as I do. You’re terrible at lying to me. ❜
❛ You ruined me the moment I met you, and I’ve been craving the damage ever since. ❜
❛ You keep trying to push me away, but I always find my way back to you. Always. ❜
❛ I don’t care if you’re bad for me. I’m worse, and I still choose you. ❜
❛ I don’t want a future unless it’s chained to you in some way.❜
❛ I know I’m too much for you but that never stopped you from coming back.❜
❛ Don’t make me jealous. You know how I get. ❜
❛ Every version of you belongs to me—the broken one, the angry one, the one who pretends not to care. ❜
❛ You think I’m dangerous now? You should see what I look like when someone threatens you. ❜
❛ Tell me the truth: do I terrify you, or do I thrill you? ❜
A playfully sour expression is shot back at Castiel when the Angel admonishes his behaviour.
"As if you're ever gonna give me the chance, baby." The Nightmare strikes back with a slight hint of bitterness beneath the playful tone. Castiel lorded over him like a tryant. He decided what the Corinthian wore, where he went, and who he talked to (if he were permitted to talk to anyone at all). And it was always under the Angels' watchful eye. How was a monster turned mortal supposed to prove himself released of his monstrous urges when he was never given the opportunity to do so?
And then the intrusive stranger in fishnets playfully suggests an idea that the Corinthian finds himself unable to pass up upon. If purely to get up the Angels nose.
"Yknow, this little angel right here likes to watch." The Nightmare hums with a hand settling flirtatiously across the man's far shoulder. Leaning over between them with his piercing gaze never leaving Castiel's expression.
"What do you think, darling? Have I earned a chance to show I can behave?"
Castiels' answer is surprising in many ways. One, because he actually seems to be permitting this, and two, the Angel almost sounded flirtatious. If he hadn't delivered that line in his same monotonous tone laced with dire warning, the Corinthian might have thought it to be intentional.
The fact that Castiel isn't flirting flies straight over the stranger's head. Not that the Corinthian really cares about this third wheel. This wasn't about the sex. It was about proving a point.
But nevertheless, the Nightmare plays into the narrative with flirtatious ease.
"Search me as thoroughly as you like." He grins at the angel, before serving their company a sly wink.
R☆ckstar☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆one of a kind doesn't mean anything to a one-of-a-kind man by the name of Lestat. The vampire casts his eyes to his counterpart's shoes before returning to his accessorized face. The vampire's face twitches to form a grimace. "Mhm," he hums. "Such as?" The air is thick with an otherworldly humidity. The vampire is aware that the man in front of him is not a mortal being. The threads that pull at the back of his head make peculiar music. Lestat has no access to this being's thoughts. It is silent, unattainable. The vampire narrows his eyes.
The Nightmare's smile remains steadfast and knowing. Almost mocking in its gatekeeping of the knowledge that the vampire clearly sought. Vampires were a rare breed to encounter for the Corinthian. One of the few beings that could see through his carefully crafted human disguise and know something was inherently wrong. The Corinthian's form was far too neat. His scent far too sweet. A walking lure.
The stuff that dreams are made of.
The Corinthian's head cants to the side, a clear indication that despite the shades hiding his gaze, he was actively admiring the vampire's body.
"To a gorgeous thing such as yourself." He drawls with his smile cutting wider, his attention drawn back up to the set of piercing eyes that met with obsidian glass.
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