♱ , 𝘵𝘩𝘦 ( 𝑜𝑛𝑒 )

the motel room lighting is shitty, flickering in the bathroom like some kind of off-brand macabre horror movie. truthfully, isaac thinks they were pretty lucky to even get a place with a lightbulb in this economy. backwater towns aren't known for their tourists, especially tourists with an aura of deadly all wrapped up in leather like a second skin. isaac reckons buffy could've benefitted from the weighted protection of a second skin, but instead, isaac's field medic experience would have to make a decent substitute after-the-fact.

steady hands tie off the stitches as he ponders her idle questions. it seems he's found himself aligned with another human personification of a hunting knife. sounds about right.

" i'm not sure how to answer that without sounding crazy, " isaac deadpans as he turns the taps loose and washes the blood from his hands. her blood. " — but my not-quite-dead ex-something's dad taught me. you might've heard his name in your circle. chris argent? "

he packs up the first aid kit, but not before pulling a bandage loose from the pack and pressing it over her new stitches. the stark white cotton is an interesting contrast to the dark pink wound hiding beneath.

        THE NIGHT UNDRESSES ALL THE SATIN HIDING STEEL.     or maybe it was just all the blood spilled?     no amount of pink could hide all that rusted red.     she feels the wound in a far-off sense    ━     human still though entirely apart.     her healing would kick in within the hour and then the jagged line would be nothing more than another silver scar to add to the collection     (    what a waste of perfectly good needle and thread    )    but it is a novelty,    having someone else patching her up after the evening's work.    

         ❛   i love crazy,    that's kinda my life at least five days out of the week.     ❜    she lays off him a bit although she reveals none of the prophecy surrounding her.     JUST ANOTHER HUNTER IN A BAD SCRAPE,    NOTHING TO SEE HERE.    although it was clear she was alone when those who fought the shadows typically ran in packs    (    more a coven    ━     that is what willow would call the scoobies    )   

     ❛   what are you doing running around with the argents?    they're a little too ...    militaristic even for a girl like me.     ❜    it was a name she was not expecting to hear,    especially here of all places.    the way the slayer moved was always more unconventional to a family with a more traditional history in this business that her 

       another bit of information she catalogs away for giles    ━     he was not gonna like this when he heard about it.       ❛   sorry about the not quite dead-ex though.    is she like...    undead or just the whole resurrection bit?    because if it's option two then you definitely have a type.     ❜    she cannot help but try to infuse the conversation with a less dire tone,    she didn't know another way to operate.   

sometimes when i first wake up, my heart is racing and my throat is dry.

even on good days, i still feel like i don’t fit in.

have you been out all night?

that isn’t your colour.

one day, i am going to kill him.

you are the prettiest peach i ever did see.

hey, lots of people like this face.

another migraine?

i hate parties.

far be it from me to stand in the way of quiet pining, but, you know, you could just talk to her.

i can’t shake the fear that as soon as i blink, you’ll disappear.

who wears pure silver?

please tell me the night terrors haven’t started.

you went through my bag?

we survive by our commitment to blending in.

every day that you refuse to embrace your nature, you are closer to the day where it controls you.

uh oh, what did you do this time?

is that what you plan to wear?

your first kill’s a big step. it changes you.

what if i don’t wanna change?

i think some people prefer to die young.

i don’t wanna hurt her.

have you started crying blood?

if you keep putting this off, it’s only going to get worse.

just remember: stay calm, be prepared, and always finish what you start.

spin the bottle? really?

sorry, i’m socially awkward.

it’s not easy to make friends when you know you’ll be in a new city in a few months.

why do you think they’re showing up now?

that’s their way of saying you can’t keep a good ghost down.

one day, i’m gonna be the greatest hunter who ever lived.

when hunting monsters, there are three rules: pay attention to everything, be prepared for anything, and always finish what you start.

they keep telling me my time is coming.

this is my life.you’re alive?

you used to be a better liar.

i got my first kill.

there’s a feeling you get when a monster’s breath eases up your nostrils.

most hunters just know a monster when they see one.

you’re the one they warned me about.

once an action is taken, you must live with the consequences.

you brought a summoner into the house?

do you have any idea what time it is?

at what point will you apologise for this shit show?

don’t steal shit.

do you think i didn’t see you?

i staked a vampire.

the worst monsters are the one who appear to be human.

you are spending too much time with the dead. it’s ruining your manners.

i hear you have a body.

show me the body - i’m not squeamish, promise.

i saw bodies like this when i just started - corpses ripped open, organs missing.

i had that nightmare again.

we don’t slaughter. we feed.

wait, back up - someone died?!

have you ever taken credit for something that you didn’t do because it was such a big deal to everyone and you didn’t want to disappoint?

did you guys kiss? did limbs entwine? your lives change for ever?

no one asked you to do that. i was handling it.

take that giant chip off your shoulder and just tell me exactly what happened.

might want to be more careful what you leave near your bodies.

compassion is not a weakness. it’s a gift. to be embraced.

i believe that the next time you take a life, you will show some restraint.

remind me to tell you my first kill story sometime.

do you see the vampire you staked?

want me to be gentle?

no, baby, i want you to make it hurt.

why’d you bite me?

why are your tears red?

i’m not a monster.

have you ever hooked up in a womens’ bathroom stall?

you know, you’re a shitty liar.

i thought monsters like you were supposed to be good at deceiving humans.

i guess i’m not very good at being a monster.

everybody has tells if you look hard enough, and i couldn’t keep my eyes off you.

i know you were planning on killing me.

i didn’t mean to bite you.

i can hear your heartbeat. it races when you lie.

what possessed you to take such a gruesome calling card?

when did we start keeping secrets from each other?

they’re very rare. hard to find. and even harder to kill.

each and every one of them must die.

a hunter is only as good as their gut.

i swear, when i bit you, i had no idea it would link us like this.

i shouldn’t feel anything for you, but you’re nothing like the monsters i grew up hating.

you’re too impressed with yourself - the worst thing a hunter can be.

that childish need for glory will get you killed.

where are my pills?!

why do i even have to do this ceremony?

do you really want to follow in their footsteps?

i look like i sleep in a coffin.

are you keeping your hands clean and your bodies well-buried?

i certainly hope he tastes better than he behaves.

make sure she doesn’t disappoint me.

you know death freaks me out.

your training sessions have been paying off.

it’s a dangerous assignment, even for the best of us, let alone for a first hunt.

i always found that part a bit kinky.

i know how hard it is to kill a monster that looks and feels human.

once those monsters come for you, your instincts kick in.

do you ever ask yourself, like, what if they’re not all monsters?

what if maybe we’re the monsters in their story?

killers don’t get a story.

wait, you want me to bite her?

i want you to drain her.

just because i’m not a killer, doesn’t mean i’m weak.

aw, you’ve got a crush. luckily it’ll pass.

i’m begging you, free your mind, stop wishing to be something you’ll never be, and appreciate what you are.

the truth is overrated.

pull yourself together before your thirst takes over and you kill whoever happens to be nearest.

we’ll figure out your first kill.

everything that happens to you is important to me.

if you hate them so much, then why did you come?

i know i ruined everything, but please call it off.

very soon, you are going to have to make your first kill, or you will get very sick.

i smell blood.

✖ random dialogue prompts. from buffy summers.

⍘ good morning to you too. ⍘ despite her stern command, stefan tilts his head back against the kitchen stool. somehow the back of his head sets against her shoulder, which allows him a more mischievous glimpse of the black liner hooked over her eyelid, and the cool earring pinching his cheek. ⍘ huh, it needs fixing? not into mussed and rugged rebels? ⍘ her fingers speed into his hair with practiced precision, not for the first time in an effort to rectify his dishevelled appearance but it wouldn't be the last either.

with his shirt discarded over the porcelain tiles and a coffee cup [ and its unremarkable caption: halloween kills! ] pressed into his hand, the slayer meets her next target: stefan's bed hair.

       an early riser despite the late night patrolling,    she glides through the kitchen with every dusting of shimmer in place.   the same could not be said for the vampire,    notably nocturnal.   although the sun streamed through the window all the same,    striking chestnut hair though with a fairness in the morning's first light.   ❛   i rather see the rugged rebel's face than his best impression of cousin it if you really wanna know.    ❜   admittedly she was seeing a whole lot of him despite her complaint;   a clear ease to his posture no matter his bare chest.    

       dragging her hands through each tuft she rights knots along the way and sweeps the longer sections behind his ears.    ❛   my hair is perfect,    always is,    even when i'm kicking undead butt...    also a silk pillowcase helps.    ❜    a cool bluff:    she had spent at least a half hour before the vanity mirror this morning brightening dark circles and painting her eyes    ━   not all of us could have clear skin thanks to immortality!