#action drabble

[uwuberdriver]

B: Please come back..

L: ?

B: I know it was me who asked you to leave, but I.. I do not want to be alone.

L: Will you tell me what in the however many hells happened??

L: First btw.

L: Then maybe.

B: I... Well it's..

B: Hard. To explain.. I will try.

B: I must have done something to myself.. Maybe before I changed my emotion, maybe after? I am not sure.

B: The.. You know. The stories we were always told about keeping the demon fed

B: Librarian what if those stories were more than just passed down stories?

L: Shrug. I didn't hear any stories.

B: What?

L: I was abandoned after my thing, sent to foster care. Kind of just figured it out, man.

B: Oh... Well, I and my siblings were always warned that if we did not feed like good children, the demon inside of our heads would die- and as it is what is keeping us alive and giving us our power, as would we.

L: Wack, Blaise. You believed that?

B: .. Yes. I still do- as a metaphor. Only now, I believe that maybe it was more real than a metaphor. Whatever happened to me, it felt like I was two pieces of a whole. I could not control myself.

L: Okaaay. You sure it wasn't some form of mpd or what's it called now.. did?

B: I.. I do not think my trauma started when I was in the age range for DID. No, this felt.. Bad. Bad bad. This was not me, or a segmented personality that became their own 'person'.

L: So you think you have a demon in your brain fighting you for control

B: Yes.

B: Think about it. When we feed, it can sometimes seem like we are not ourselves. Have you felt this? Like something has taken over once we switch on our powers.

L: Hm.. I guess but I always just thought of it as confidence.

B: What if that is the demon? What if it comes out to play when we feed. What if mine is coming out more now that I have done something..

L: You think it's even safe for me to come back rn?

B: I.. Yes. I am rather stuffed. I do not feel.. Different. Right now. I think you would be okay.

B: Maybe more than okay, if you would allow me.

L: Oooo~

L: Yeah, I'll come back. Thanks for telling me. I still don't understand but maybe I do. This whole demon talk is wild.

L: Maybe demon is the wrong word. Maybe it's something with fae

B: I am unsure. There is nothing on this. I have been scouring my notes. Never once did I see in all the journals from multiple white court archivists that I have about it. I may have to check the actual archives.

L: Blaise be reasonable. If you have weird.. Demon things going on in your head, it's suicide to show your.. Whatever it is nearby them.

L: No offense but this thing keeps controlling you.

B: ... But I must. I will take the risk. Now.. Please, I am lonely.

[uwuberdriver]

🥕 This is an IC rp blog for Blaise Danvers, he is a Dresden Files oc- specifically a white court vampire.

🥕 Blog is ran by Pirie, and I am 28 years old.

🥕 This blog is 18+

🥕 Important tags are listed as tags on this post for searching purposes.

🥕 For more info, please check the pinned post over at @vampiricvittles

[uwuberdriver]

The gods were being rather unkind to him, but what else is new?

To say such things were a little more than wrong this time. In fact, he was rather sure the gods had nothing to do with it. No.. This time it all boiled down to his stupidity. Nah, that wasn't right either. It was his lack of thinking ahead that did it. This one was the final solution, and it was definitely not something he could chalk up to the gods.

Seven years he had managed to outrun his father and siblings. Seven years things had been perfectly manageable, save for the constant paranoia that could only be swallowed down in tiny teaspoons. On the beginning of the eigth, that finally changed.

So now he sat on his couch, having been stabbed only a milimeter from his heart, bandages no longer useful. Next to him was poor Blum, whose scales could not protect even them from the frostbite of ice magicks. The two looked like a sorry pair, but Blaise- ever so sweet- was putting way more attention on his dragon than himself.

The doting continued, even as more help to heal wounds finally arrived, jumping up faster than he should have even with his powers active, to make sure that the little guy was handled properly. A worry that he didn't need to have. He knew that Faye was good at his job, hells, he had seen him enough over the past month.

And in that past month, though seeing him only when injured, he felt rather elated, yet.. Saddened that he was once again seeing him due to injuries. His ego... The pride of a fae was nothing to be mocked. It was almost another life bar, and his was so dangerously low to the single digits. Something had to be done.. If he was ever going to stand even a chance, he wanted- no, almost needed, to clear his image at least a little bit.

As he had told Damien, without much of a proper warning (once he knew that Blum was going to be okay), he began to tell his story.

₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩₩

It had been a tired day, as had most since he started investigating more into the thing inside his head awakening, and in his fervor he had forgotten to check up on his wards. They should have alerted him to any unknown presence that entered the apartment at any time, and it might have, but since he had been poorly managing them, it would have been a quiet tinge in his mind. One all too easily ignored when hopped up on caffiene and lack of sleep.

As bad of a mistake as it was, his next was even more grievous. The knock on his door, the voice that sounded exactly like Librarian's asking to be let in. He had no thoughts in his head when he chimed back a happy yes.. And that was that. Not once did he stop and think about how his youngest sister had been so good at parroting others. Not once did it cross his mind that it could have been a trick. It was Librarian! One of his best friends!

And that was steadfast until it waned when nobody came into the room to greet him with the usual little smile and wave. There was nothing but the feeling of being watched. Even once he knew what was happening and stumbled himself out of his desk, it was too late. There was nothing to prepare even a defense as the iron blade plunged right into his back.

Fae are very susceptible to iron, Blaise added up at this point- mostly to make the next bit look cooler, despite the fact that most fae had the exact same iron weakness across most worlds- and what he did next astonished even him.

Knife still in his back, having missed it's target, Blum- who had been sitting ever so good in their little bed- sprang into action. Blaise couldn't remember exactly what they had done, but the hand that put force on the blade was gone, and Blum was screeching.. And Blaise jumped into action.

Stupidly.. Stupidly- but very well done thanks to his gymnastics training, he added to make up for the stupidly of it all- he yanked the blade out from his back, and pinned his sister against the wall that Blum had backed her up into.

His youngest sibling was never a pushover despite her small stature, and now.. Well, she was double his size in length, and had muscles that bulged now against his vampiric strength.

Iron aside, the fact of the matter was that he was just a bit more fed. The tiny bit of energy that he had left as the two of them wrestled let him stab her, at least somewhere, and that overall won him the fight. The second the iron was in her flesh, it sapped her of power, and Blaise was able to muster his very last bit to kick her out of the window.

And then.. That was it. That was all he could remember. He awoke to the real Librarian bandaging his wounds and urging him to a doctor, which Blaise absolutely refused time and time again.

In some time of his unconsciousness, he had managed to gather up enough reserves to keep up his powers enough to find someone in the nearby alley to feed from. That, as impossible as it sounded, he just somehow knew was Blum's doing. The little dragon had to have helped, there was no way Blaise should have lasted so long unconscious with a pulled out knife wound.

It should have been impossible. He should be dead.. This he repeated several times, shaking his head in awe as he did so. Or, perhaps, Librarian let him feed off him. There could have been time in his unconscious state where the feral side of him awoke to feed, and Librarian let them in. Either was.. Impossibly possible.

"But," He made sure to add at the end, "I think that I did rather well for someone with no self-defense training.. Or muscles, for that matter. You should have seen how brave I was."

Then he puffed out his chest. Just a little bit. A tiny bit of peacocking in the hopes of restoring some pride to his already scuffed name.

[uwuberdriver]

I think that I really messed up, is what he wished to type- but his hands would not let him type the rest. It was a struggle to send the rest of the message.

The phone slipped from his hand as it seized up outside of his control. Introspective was all he could do, and it was not pretty. How did.. How could this even happen. If he could remember-

There was none of that left. Any glimpse into the forgotten memories he may have had was gone, and he wasn't sure what told him that- but it did more than tell, it screamed with the silence that was left in its wake.

It was a reality for every white court vampire. Something that many embraced and fed and loved. He had done the same for so long, as was he told to. Things changed more after he ran away- he came to hate and fear what he had to feed. Without it, he would die. He knew this. To survive was spite against his father, but love had turned to begrudging hate.

Whether metaphorical or literal, there was a demon inside- and whatever Blaise had done. Whatever the memories he could no longer remember would have told him- it was active and it was pissed off and hungry.

"We have to eat."

The voice that spoke to him was his own, and it was angry. Introspective returns, Blaise manages to wrestle control for one more minute. One more small time, and it was enough to send two more messages out. Two pleas for some sort of help.

To feed was one thing. To let the thing inside his head take over the feeding, was a completely different entity. He didn't want to kill again. With a rush of adrenaline, he forced himself to move. Quickly. To the drawer in his desk. Shaky hands reached in- and then stopped.

"You would hold iron? Are you fucking stupid, if we don't feed we're going to die!"

'We aren't going to die. We- I have been through so much worse. This is nothing.. I just have to find what it is. That's it. I'll be okay.'

With a growl, he wrestled control back- enough to grab something hidden in a green velvet pouch. Whatever it was, it was small enough to be palmed.

'Go away, or I will be forced to hurt us both badly. Then we will surely die, is that what you want?'

"No!"

It was like being split in two, and Blaise hated it.

Why.

He had been warned.

Experiments never tried for a reason. Paper written in warning to any who try to follow the same path. At what point was he nothing better than that of the red court? If the monster was no longer slumbering hidden, giving its power for a full and fed existence.

How could it even manifest itself in such a way? It was a metaphor!

It was always nothing more than that!

Control fully back, he gripped at his hair and hissed, the pouch still nestled in his palm.

Where was Blum.

Where was Librarian.

[uwuberdriver]

📼!

Ten years. Ten years...

Ten years since he had come with his father to Dublin. Ten years he had spent every single night but five or so in the hands of another, legs tangled with someone he only knew through this.

Some regulars he had learned so well. He could make them scream with pleasure, this is what he did.

This is what he did.

But not tonight. No more. No more.

Tonight, he ran. Clumsiness be damned, it would be the night of many firsts- and one of them was not tripping over his own two feet. He couldn't do it anymore. His breathing came out in ragged gasps, as he ran and swerved between the buildings of Dublin. Vampiric strength and years of gymnastics thrummed through his legs, becoming almost a blur.

His siblings chasing him couldn't keep up, and he was so thankful for it. The one who could get the closest, his sister of ten years old, nipped at his heels- but he was still faster.

One lucky swerve was taken fast enough that his sister didn't slow down in time to take, and it let him throw himself quietly into a dumpster- quick enough he heard them all run past him.

He wanted so badly to cheer and whoop- but all he could do was sob quietly into his hands. Freedom was so close, but it would only be a matter of time before they used their sense of smell.

He had to go. The airport was so close.

[uwuberdriver]

📼?

Things weren't all so bad tonight. In fact, it was the first ever night to himself that his father had ever given him since coming here. He swore to embrace it. This was his time.

Blaise sat atop the roof of probably one of the oldest buildings in Dublin. He had just turned seventeen, and it had been the day of the gymnastics championships. He had expected to get maybe fourth, maybe fifth, place- especially with how much his body ached from days of practice and nights of forceful escorting.. So to be sitting, alone on a night for the first time, grasping a gold medal in the palm of his hand seemed unreal.

The entire championship seemed unreal. The way his body bent to his beck and call, and how the cheers rang out when he managed to do things not even olympic medalists would be able to pull off so easily. It was exhilerating, he felt.. Tangible.

He laughed out loud. He couldn't help it. The medal reflected the pinks and oranges of the sunset, then his face as he held it up. His eyes glowed silver, and it made him flinch uncontrollably.

Was it the fae that made him win? The thing inside his head that had gotten so powerful it could take over when he fed? No. No, he felt in control. For the first night in such a long time he felt in control. His heart swelled as arms opened wide and he gracefully moved to lay on his back. The stars would be out soon, and he wasn't sure when he would be able to see them again.

[uwuberdriver]

His hands shook as he put down his phone on a small end table by his bed.

They always shook now, small tremors that made writing his notes on dreams and perspectives so much harder than they needed to be. They shook even more as he tried to run his hands across the furry-yet-scaley weasel of a dragon. A few last pets, though some part of him was sure they would follow him to the ends of the earth.

"I need to see her," he finally said after a few more pets, "I know.. She doesn't want to see me. What does it matter if I'm just going home?"

The only response he got was a whuff of hot air, but the dragon did rest their head on his lap. There's a silence that follows, one of gnawing hunger and sadness that stretched for eternity- until he shook his head and cleared his vision. Glasses slid down, to not be bothered to slide back up.

His hands picked back up the phone, fingers tapping a rhythm he hadn't done since the accident.

Ring... Ring..

Voicemail. Her voice rang out to leave a message, and his hands shook so bad the phone fell out of his hands before he could hit hang up and the voicemail began recording.

His heart sank as he grabbed the phone and quickly jammed his finger on the red button.

Okay.. That went even worse than even he could have imagined. It was too late now. He called her number again, and this time when the voicemail started- he spoke.

"Hey, uh.. Blaise. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.. For everything. Again. I know what I did was.. Well, you know. Uh. Very shitty. I'm sorry.."

A silence stretched. Too much dead air, Blaise.

"I wanted to let you know that I'm going home. Back to Ireland.. So, you won't have to worry about seeing me around. Again.. But- But I wish you a good wedding. I hope.. Things go okay with the.. Y'know. Pregnancy. That's it. Bye.."

The red button is tapped again, and Blaise lets out a joking sob of frustration.

"What was that.. What the fuck was that, Blum."

He turned to stare at the dragon, tears reflecting light from his silvered eyes onto the dragon's scales.

Seconds after, his phone vibrated. Again and again and again. It was messages from her. The contact listed as Unknown, but the number he had read so many times.

U: What do you mean you're going back to Ireland?

U: Blaise.. You hated it there. The stories you told me.

U: Why would you call me to tell me that? I made it pretty clear I don't want to talk to you anymore.

U: But I can't sit and watch you go back there.

U: Are you throwing your life away over this?

U: Don't be stupid.

U: Blaise.

U: Answer me.

Blaise could feel a panic attack coming on. He could feel his anger rising even more. His hands clenched around his phone.

Why. Why is everyone so insistent on this. Didn't they see the decision wasn't taken lightly? 'Don't be stupid, Blaise', 'Don't make rash decisions, Blaise'

He deserved this. He deserved it and he was tired of being told otherwise.

B: Hello.

B: I did not mean to cause worry with my message. It is not a decision I have made lightly.

B: At the same time, I am not doing well. I fear going into detail will be considered garnering for pity. That is not my intention.

B: I am not cut out for living on my own, nor am I cut out for thinking for myself. I want to just let thought go.

His eyes closed for a second against the pain in his chest.

U: You need to get help, Blaise

B: I will not make it through.

U: If you could make it through the hell that was Ireland, you can.

B: I do not need you to tell me anything. I just wished to inform you.

B: Quite frankly, I am tired of being told to get help. That is all anyone will talk to me about.

B: Why would you care in the first place, after what I did?

U: We were friends since high school, you may not believe this but I still want you to be happy.

U: When I saw you after you came back, you looked like you were already dead.

U: Don't do that to yourself again.

U: If not for you, for me.

U: It's suicide.

B: I don't want to think anymore

U: I have to go now

U: I have to go to an ultrasound appointment

U: Promise me you won't go back again?

U: Blaise, please.

B: If I stay, will there be any chance I can see you again?

U: Blaise...

B: You're right. It was foolish of me to ask.

B: Yet you still reached out..

B: I miss how things were.

B: I miss you.

U: I have to go, Blaise

U: I can't give you an answer right now.

B: I'm sorry

The phone was slammed back onto the night stand, as tears flowed freely again.

He couldn't get her back, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't get his happiness back. Why did she bother to care? Why did she try and talk him out of going back?

Everything hurt. It wasn't going to be okay. The dragon with their head still in his lap gave a long whine, and Blaise reached down to pet them once more.

"Why does everything feel impossible, Blum?"

"My hands," he sobbed, "I just wish things could go back."

The dragon purred, and when made a little squeaking sound as Blaise sobbed into their fur. They were little, but the power they held was still immense.

If their mother wanted so badly to forget, they would help how they could. It was nothing but a wiggle of their tail.

[uwuberdriver]

The weather should have been nice and cool. A crisp fall day by any other accounts, with the wind blowing strongly from the alley entrances- yet Blaise barely even noticed.

There was a horrible itching warmth he felt, something that did not come from his walking, but from inside of him. Tiny pinpricks of pain that felt too close to claws digging into his chest- and he feared it was closer to the truth than he wanted to admit.

He walked with the pace of a man hunted by something, even for Chicago standards, a man on a mission.. There just wasn't time. October was too close. Too close.. Panic welled from two sources as his walk became a desperate run- as thunder roiled above, almost exacerbated by the thrumming of the subway above, and the beating of his own heart against his chest.

He had been stupid to ask her to meet up. There was naught but one thought behind it, nothing else in his mind that wasn't being devoured by the hungry thing inside of it that had previously engorged itself. It was for relief, to feel more human again. For briefly reliving a life long gone in a fevered fit. He had asked to meet in their old spot, where they would run and play as kids and make into stomping grounds as teens before.. Him. Before he pried her, brave enough to do what he never could. Before Blaise was forced to leave and face what he had become in a city far away from the past.

His feet pounded almost in time with the rain, being drawn back to reality, or to what he was pretending his reality was.

'Why do you run from us?'

'We are a pair, you and I. An inseperable pair. Without me, there would no you. You would resist? You would think you to win?'

The sudden sharpness of his vision and the pain it brought to his head caused Blaise to trip on his own two feet, but at least the tumble brought him the final step he wasn't sure he could have walked himself. His ears picked up a sharp gasp through the thunder and rain roaring. It was a voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Blaise! Are you okay?"

Like honey, it soothed him.

The claws were too deep, but he felt them pull back just a little- and it was going to be enough. It was going to get him through.