#vsmp fic

[revg22]

Ohhhh Vamplings

'Live forever' - by oasis

CHAPTER 6

Pain in the ass to draw anatomy so this is a previous draft i didnt really like but found cute

not sorry about this

[blockcat-safari]

A/N: Behold, I bring you an introspective piece on Morcant and Abolish's relationship! After writing this post, I've been rattling around in my brain a way to explore it further, so wrote this. First line is shamelessly borrowed from LOTR.

.

No parent should have to bury their child.

But Morcant is no parent.

He inherited the Veylocke child the same way one might find themselves in possession of a neighbour's aged hound or a great-aunt's prized fine china. All these things were once beloved, their homes lovingly bestowed, but now the space must be carved out of a life already full. The cupboards must be rearranged, the dog walked, and the child...

Morcant is no parent. But he knows a child - a human child, no less - is a needful thing. They bawl and scream and cry, and even once they find their feet and their senses they continue to be wanting. Even accepting all the paltry needs that come with being mortal, they need time. Space.

Attention. 

They need tears wiped away. Tempers managed. Night terrors comforted. They need a guardian who will live up to the name in more than just the physical.

And Morcant is none of that.

Sometimes, he thinks the Veylocke child can sense it. This small human, this warped memory of his late friends, who stares at him with Reiah's stubbornness sitting in Alaric's eyes, keeps to himself. He does not reach out. Does not ask. He watches, with those damn eyes that hold both his parents, and lays no verbal judgement.

(And, for all the brevity of his speech, Morcant already knows Abolish talks with his father's voice and his mother's wit.)

(This last reminder of his two friends, two whole and full existences condensed down into this single soul, an echo of an echo, never enough to do anything but resurface the grief.)

Reiah and Alaric's boy is a well-behaved child; all Morcant’s guests and servants say so. They comment, in that well-meaning way of someone reaching for an easy compliment, how quiet he is. How no-fuss. The parents among them share their own woes – of offspring who scream and shout, who flaunt bedtimes and flail at bathtimes – and Morcant knows he is not one of them. He is no parent.

Morcant Thornvale does not know how to raise a child.

Only agents.

(Perhaps he starts Abolish Veylocke too early; most come into the organisation in adulthood, but Morcant does not know what else to do with Reiah and Alaric's son, and – anyway – he takes to it like a duck to water.)

(He is a Veylocke, after all.)

And if there are more ricochets of his old friends sounded off by the training (he scraps like his mother, kicks like his father) then they are discordant, diluted from an education alongside Morcant.

Morcant is no parent.

But, sometimes – sometimes, and getting closer – it is not echoes of Reiah or Alaric he sees in Abolish, but himself. His diplomacy and his quick-footed way around a lie; it has been too long since he has seen his reflection, but sometimes it is like catching the edge of a mirror. Just fragments. Just glimmers.

(A guest passes through Blackwyn and, off-handedly with no cloying motivation, remarks how clearly they can see the familial likeness.)

Morcant is no parent.

And perhaps, if he keeps telling himself that, he might just believe it. Abolish is his ward. His protégé. His employee.

Abolish is in his mid-twenties – a respectable adult age by human standards, if a little young by organisation standards for solo missions – when he travels to Oakhurst. Morcant had spoken of a potential vampire cure, but they had both seen it for the excuse it was. Abolish Veylocke travels to Oakhurst to pay respects to his parents, but some things just look better on paperwork.

It takes months.

(It was never meant to take months.)

It takes months, and the Abolish that returns is not the same Abolish that left. There are new-forged ghosts in his wake, and fresh footprints in his soul, and all are foreign to Morcant. Abolish relays, at first with familiar humour and scathing remarks, the events of those months. Of an abandoned town ravanged by two vampires, the travelling folk turned, one-by-one, and the reckless stupidity of both vampire and human alike.

Of their solution.

The Abolish that returns is still human, but it comes at more of a cost than just a luckless doctor's death.

Running with the organisation naturally carries risk, especially for the mortally-inclined among them. Morcant knows this. Abolish knows this. And yet, while Abolish was human and unturned, there was always the potential to change that. That, before a fatal injury could claim him, before a monster might cleave through his heart, before old age could sink its teeth in, he could be saved. He could live.

Abolish sits before him, with Reiah's stubbornness sitting in Alaric's eyes, his tongue tempered with Morcant’s diplomacy; a cured vampire, wholly and indelibly human.

Indelibly mortal.

Morcant is no parent.

But he refuses to bury his child.

[mcyt-prisoner]

Ermmmm. Expanding on my "No care in the world" vsmp fic (final girl werewolf avid premise). All 5 chapters are done but will be released with a couple days between each other to breathe. You can read chapter two here. Mind the archive warnings and tags PLEASE. Everyone is their worst and/or most miserable self and there is no happy ending. Ok bye.

[badalloc]

@lemn-crystal asked: Anything trustbites pls I beg :)

Ok. Here's your reward! (putting this into it's own post to get rid of the annoying formatting)

-----------------------------

Consider:

What would happen if the town discovered a vampire — a *new* one — wandering in the woods? If Abolish managed to convince the rest of them to bring it back to the Doc rather than staking it on the spot? And I use the word “it” here because the poor thing is damaged; hurt so badly that most would consider killing it a mercy.

But Abolish and Doctor Legundo are not most people. The first realized pretty quickly that the vampire was *not* attacking everyone and everything in sight, despite the massive trauma to its body. And the Doctor had seen mortal flesh mangled almost as badly.

They give it blood. *Animal* blood because, even with a throat half-missing, it refuses the Doc’s proffered wrist. The first thing it says to him when vampiric healing has repaired the damage to its neck and jaw is “Thank you.” The Doctor clamps his teeth around empty promises, but allows himself a shred of hope for the first time. His patient has turned a corner.

Meanwhile, things are going poorly in Oakhurst. The fragile trust that the Doctor had managed to forge with Owen is deteriorating rapidly against the backdrop of the town’s hostility. When Martyn outs Apo as a vampire, he feels compelled to step in and pretend to be one himself. Fingers are pointed at the vampire — the horribly *vulnerable* vampire — still under Legundo’s care, and he instantly regrets the lie. But the town agrees to leave the two of them alone as long as Legundo can guarantee that there will be no further “accidents”.

Vampiric healing being the wonder that it is, Legundo’s newest patient makes rapid progress. Within days he is sitting up. Talking in short sentences. Copper-colored hair begins to sprout from his scalp and his smile is no longer a ghastly rictus of mangled lips and missing teeth. But he can’t remember who he is.

He can’t remember much of *anything*.

The Doc takes to calling him “V”, just to give them both something to hold onto. V is courteous. Refined, even. Despite the coarse surroundings of this little backwater clinic, the vampire’s mannerisms and grace reveal him to be someone of careful upbringing. Thankfully, V knows that he’s a vampire — it’s not something that Legundo has to awkwardly explain to a person with amnesia. V has been a vampire for so long, in fact, that he’s able to offer helpful suggestions for handling the multitude of untutored fledglings running around Oakhurst. (V is absolutely *horrified* at what has been going on).

Perhaps the most amazing thing of all, however, is that he can perform the minor miracle of making the Doctor laugh. V’s quiet, steadying presence in the clinic is a balm to Legundo’s tattered nerves, and the one bright spot he can look forward to at the end of every wearying day. The two spend long evenings chatting about everything from the town’s current troubles, to the advances in medicine over the past few centuries. For the first time in years, Legs even manages to open up a little about his own past. (Not too much, but more than he’s been able to share with anyone since the War).

Being able to help V also bolsters the Doctor’s confidence; perhaps he can make some progress with his most difficult case, if he gives it just one more try.

V overhears Legundo asking Abolish to accompany him to the lake late one night. The way he says it — asking the man to follow him and trust him — raises alarm bells. The unmistakable stench of garlic consumed directly afterwards confirms V’s fears. Legundo was going to meet with a vampire he considered dangerous. What if it was the old one who had been abandoning all of these fledglings? The one whose name could raise a growl even from the ever-forgiving Doctor? V couldn’t let his new friend face that kind of danger with just a single man to protect him.

He owed Legundo a debt. Plus, V liked him.

Unfortunately, it takes him precious minutes to track and follow Legundo to the lake. V is just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation that, to his heightened senses, seems to be going south very quickly. Legundo stinks of frustration mingled with fear, his heart rate elevated as he faces off with a vampire that V has never seen before. The pain in the young man’s voice is like a raw nerve, tugging at every instinct V has to protect the vulnerable. Was that a… fledgling? The newcomer carries the scent, but there’s something that bothers V about him. Something he can’t quite place…

All at once, things are happening too quickly. The newcomer screams at the doctor, and V is astonished to see that Legundo doesn’t even raise a shield in defense. Abolish is nowhere to be seen and the vampire isn’t listening to whatever the Doctor has to say. He rakes his claws down Legundo’s chest, staggering the man, then raises his hand for the killing blow.

V moves.

V is not a fighter; he never has been. But it takes no great skill to be a shield. He throws himself across Legundo’s body, raising his hands to block the incoming blow.

Which never comes.

There is a fractured second of utter shock. V gets the impression of large, dark eyes and untamed white curls before the vampire lunges at him. V flinches, anticipating the rending of teeth and claws, but is instead crushed into an embrace that is almost throttling in its intensity. The sounds that the newcomer is making aren’t growls — they’re sobs. Choking, gasping, heart-rending sobs that immediately change all of V’s horror and confusion into pity. He wraps his arms awkwardly around the vampire and tries to make sense of the whole situation. This close, the fledgling scent is unmistakable. V breathes it in, brow furrowing as he tries to place the other scent overlayed on top. He pats the fledgling’s back awkwardly, soothing and tutting until the sobs and strangled gasps finally resolve themselves into words.

Or rather, just one word. Over and over and over again:

“Louis.”

With the name, comes memory. Quiet afternoons spent reading aloud. Timid jokes that provoked startled laughter. A biting sense of humor, quickly covered, but that could be teased back out into the light again with patience. Holding hands. Sharing secrets. 

And a name.

“Owen.”

Not just any fledgling: his fledgling.

His everything.

-----------------------------

(As you can probably tell by now, I like to play around with memory loss, lol. Had to figure out a way to drop Louis into this without immediately fixing everything.)

I think that the story would have had a very different ending if Louis was suddenly injected into Oakhurst, especially if he sided with the town. Owen would flip sides so fast it would be comical. And there’s *no way in hell* either Louis or Owen would have allowed the Doctor to sacrifice himself to cure the rest of the town after this. I’m not sure how things would have played out past this point, but I can think of at least one (or two) people who would be very grateful to have Louis around long term.

This has been a Trustbites exercise (lol). Hope you enjoyed!

[hermits-that-craft]

How to cope with your girlfriend becoming immortal in three easy steps

This is a part of my whitepine x vampires au, but is set ninety years before the start of the au. Think of this as a prequel to those fics.

Apo has been living with Cherri for ten years now, and she hasn't aged a day. Cherri has, not noticeably at first, but she has crows feet at the corners of her eyes now, and a slight wrinkle between her eyes. She frowns when she paints, and smiles at almost every other moment.

Apo adores it.

She loves how her sweetheart has aged, even if she can't age alongside her. She loves watching her wake up slowly, her nose crinkling against the cold air, her eyelashes slowly separating. Apo could watch her forever.

It has been almost ten years to the day since she escaped Oakhurst. She knows that Abolish had been keeping an eye on her - always at a distance, always briefly. Once every six months or so she will catch a glimpse of him, and then he'll be gone - but she hasn't seen hide nor hair of the others.

And she wants to keep it that way.

Cherri knows her struggles with this date. She knows what Apo went through. The letters got through to her, the frantic warning the only beat her home by a single day. The frozen, bitter grief that consumes her for weeks on end, culminating on a day where she can barely move, curled in their bed.

Cherri never stays on this day.

Instead, she goes and collects gifts for Apo. A necklace, a shiny rock from a creek, an iris for the garden, some hair ornaments, and noticeably two years ago, a brittany spaniel that she can take on hunts with her.

She named him Martyn on the day, but Cherri calls him Marty.

Apo thinks he would hate that. She hopes he doesn't.

Marty lies on the bed, his little head resting on her chest as she forces her lungs to breath. She doesn't need to draw breath - not anymore - but she enjoys the sensation on this awful anniversary. It reminds her of why she can't go back. Of why she won't go back.

The midday sun pushes through an unseasonable warmth through her windows. She could move to open them, to let some cold air in. She could move to push the quilt from on top of her. But that would disturb Marty. It would disturb Cherri's lovingly placed blankets.

So when the door to their cottage slams open hard enough to rattle the windows, Apo can honestly say she's more upset about startling her dog than she is about the fact that she is going to kill someone.

Apo rises slowly, smoothing the front of her shift as she rises. She likes this one - a silk shift that Cherri had embroidered her name onto, just above her heart. Apo doesn't want to get it bloodied, getting blood out of silk is exhausting work, but she will do what she must.

She stalks out of the bedroom, her feet silent as she glides in the shadows of the small house. She will deal with this intruder, and will ensure her lovers safety. But she freezes in the edge of the hall, taking in the scene in front of her.

Abolish, hunched over Cherri, desperately shaking her. He has always been so put together, the almost feral nature of his movements give her more than just pause - it gives her abject fear. Her heart does not pound - it hasn't moved in ten years - but she swears it stops still in this instant.

Her lovers heart still beats, but she does not move.

"I'm so sorry." Abolish is desperate, looking up at her with tears in his eyes. "I was too late I'm sorry."

And that is all that it takes.

Apo is by her side in a second, her hands clenched around one of Cherris. As though she can bring her back with a squeeze and a prayer. As though anything she can do will save her.

"What happened?" Her voice is broken, but she still places her head on Cherri's chest. Abolish hesitates, and Apo looks up at him.

He's staring at her hand, sizzling in the sunlight.

"She was in the market." He stands slowly, shutting the door with more care than when he broke it open. It won't take her too long to fix the cracks in the mortar and lime, as long as the weather permits her working. "I had been sent to find someone, who had been cursing people who crossed them."

"A witch?" Apo still cannot believe that magic is real, even having lived through what she had. But Abolish just shakes his head.

"A fairy." His nose scrunches in clear distaste, and Apo almost wants to smile at him. "Vicious thing, has been cursing people since Shakespeare."

"Like Puck." Cherri's voice is weak, but she Apo shoots up to look at her, she has a smile on her face. As always. "Good to see you, Apo-slice."

"You look so-" Apo wants to weep, to bury her head in Cherri's chest and never move again.

"I'm alright. Talked to the wrong person, though."

"I'm sorry." Abolish repeats himself, and Cherri laughs at him - not maliciously, at least Apo can tell that.

"You didn't curse me. What did you expect to do, kill the fairy. I will be fine."

"I don't know what the curse has done to you." He says slowly.

"I know."

"I don't know how to help you."

"That's fine." Apo is torn between laughing at Abolish's frankly tired expression, and curling around Cherri and never letting go again. "Really, Mr-"

"Veylocke."

"Veylocke, this is not your fault. I know what they told me, and I know I can work with it. Please don't worry about me, I'm sure you have to go and catch that fairy before they curse anyone else?"

Abolish looks live a wave of ice just dragged him under, but he nods in agreement.

"Thank you, Abolish." Apo allows herself this one moment, just before he leaves. "For everything."

"I wish you could have been cured, too." He nods, disappearing out the door.

"I knew you two knew each other. You've mentioned Veylocke before." Cherri cards her fingers through Apo's hair, and Marty trots out to rest his head on her lap. "You don't have to worry about me, I honestly got a pretty good deal."

"Cherri," Apo hisses, and Marty whines at her tone. Cherri just laughs, pulling her close.

"They cursed me to only live as long as my lover walks the earth. I think they thought you dead, dearest, because they were so shocked when I did not drop dead before them."

Apo wants to laugh, wants to smile and pull Cherri into a tight hug. She wants to dance around the cottage with her lover, now that she knows she will have eternity and a day to spend with her. Now that she knows she will not outlive her, slowly forgetting her face and voice.

Instead, she bursts into tears.

Cherri pulls her close, tucking her into her chest as she fights through sobs. Marty, ever like his name sake, huffs with exasperation before leaving to go and stand by the door. Guarding them.

---

Five years have passed, and Cherri has not aged a day. Still in her mid thirties, still with the same laughter lines and furrow in her brow. Still as radiant as the sun, and as brilliant as the moon.

Apo is doing better, on this anniversary. Cherri says she has slowly been getting better, each year from the start, but Apo doubts that.

She is running through the woods, the night so new the sky still holds the last vestiages of pink and purple in the sky. Her feet are so light under her, she might as well be flying. Marty bounds besides her, all flopping ears and shaking tail.

Tonight, they hunt pheasants for Cherri. She already has one under her belt, having scared it into Marty's capable jaws, but she needs another for her own dinner.

As much as she enjoys the smell, eating a stew would be a good way to make herself sick for the rest of the week, and Cherri has plans for them. Certainly just to see Abolish in the budding city of Emberton, but it counts.

She doesn't understand why Cherri insists on recalling what happened to her. If Apo were in her place, cursed to live for as long as Cherri lives, she would never think about it again. She would refuse to look a gift horse in the mouth.

But Cherri refuses to let it lie, and Apo refuses to let her face it alone.

Secretly, she hates it. Cherri shouldn't be tethered to her, should be able to live a natural life that she herself cannot. Apo wants to age, to grow old with her lover. To die in her sleep, in her arms. And now neither of them can have even that much.

Apo has four pheasants attached to her belt when she comes back to herself, feathers stuck in her teeth.

Maybe talking about it might help.

---

It has been twenty years since Apo left Oakhurst, and ten years since Cherri became immortal, and Apo is returning to Oakhurst with her lover.

If she were to tell herself she was doing this even two years ago, she would laugh in her own face. To travel back to the place that ruined her? To face the man she want to kill, more than she has ever wanted someone dead before? To finally pay her respects to her friends, to her enemies, and to the man she thought she could trust?

She never would have considered it.

But Abolish and Cherri had teamed up on her, using their combined powers for evil. Abolish has gotten Cleo and Pearl out of the village, sent them on to distract the shattered remnants of the coven. Mr M is nowhere to be found, as per usual.

And Apo is standing, with a bouquet of flowers and a pair of letters, above Martyn and Renheardt's graves.

"I don't know if I can say what I want to." She says finally, the moon full behind her. "I don't think I know how to. But I've written it down for you. I hope you both can read it."

Cherri is waiting for her, watching her with a warm smile. When Apo is done, she will take her hand and leave the town once more. She's visited Legundo, she's visited Pyro and Owen, she's even visited Avid- though she's left him no flowers, since he's clearly got too many already - and all she has to do is say goodbye to her militia.

And now she doesn't know how.

"I wanted to say something." Her voice wavers, bloodied tears pooling in her eyes. "I had planned it, Cherri had helped me with the words when I couldn't find them. But now I can't say it.

You were good." She finally pushes out. "You were perfect. I'm so sorry. I will stay for you. I don't know if anyone tells you about the world?"

Apo scrubs her eyes with the palm of her hand, smearing blood across her cheeks.

"But I promise I will come back with news. Abolish and Cherri said they'll help with that. I don't think I told you much about Cherri. You'd both like her. She's an artist." Apo doesn't shake as she sobs, the tears falling onto wet ground. "She's going to be with me for the rest of my life. She's immortal. Not a vampire, though. Something else. She's trying to paint you both."

Apo laughs slightly.

"She isn't there yet. She's getting close, though. I love her." Apo takes a deep breath in, smiling slightly at the two graves. "I'm going to marry her, one day. I'm going to ask her this year, but I'm going to marry her. I'll send you both invites and save you seats. I hope to see you there."

Apo leaves the cards at the base of the graves, and the flowers in between them. They can share them. She salutes the graves - the only military honours she can give them - before she walks towards Cherri.

She takes her hand, and they walk into the night.

[nonbeanie-writes]

c41 art!

tfw you're pretty sure you just met a dryad

[thecouncilofdumdums]

I got bored in class again!

it’s the victims of Avid’s foolishness! The pit crew! Oh and Pearl in my AU as well. Hi Pearl! Thanks for being intelligent in my fic 🙏

[eridiandreams]

Some art for Reversal by @badalloc!

Genuinely so so good (on my…third reread at the moment). Check it out! :D