#fleecal

Henrik needs human blood, but he doesn't like taking directly from the source. It reminds him that he's not immune to impulse, that he could lose control of himself if he's not careful.

Marvin also isn't comfortable with being a bloodbag for his vampiric friend, so they both agree that Henrik never feeds off of Marvin.

(on top of that the magic in Marvin's blood makes it taste spicy so Henrik doesn't like it)

Marvin and Henrik share something else in common, a flaw. They both crave control. For Henrik, it's control of himself. For Marvin, it's control of his life. Marvin wants freedom, Henrik wants self discipline. Both can delve into unhealthy behaviors to achieve these things. But they understand what the other wants.

Kinda alluded to before but they may have a relationship? When asked, both reply vaguely and refuse to elaborate. They both find it incredibly funny.

Marvin has lived in the mansion long enough he knows all the secret passageways and hidden nooks. He can disappear into the house and not be found for weeks if he wants to be.

Jack and IRIS

Since I only recently started incorporating it into my AU, I wanna get my thoughts out about it.

IRIS here is kinda a bad thing. It's a group of humans who have decided that the supernatural is bad/has bad effects on people, so have dedicated themselves to hunting down any overtly supernatural creatures and either killing them or containing them. They alone have caused most of the monsters to go into hiding.

They have 'Hunters' who go around trying to find supernatural entities to either capture or kill. Hunters are usually human, tho occasionally they might have some supernatural enhancement, if IRIS approves of it.

Jack used to be a part of these hunters until he became a monster himself. From there he had to do a lot of self discovery... And it eventually lead him down the path to meet Anti, the demon of fear and nightmares.

During this time, IRIS lost contact with Jack and didn't know what happened to him. They were/are also unaware of Jack being a werewolf.

Jack was able to escape Anti, and kept on the down low, hiding from IRIS for some time. It was only when he saved Chase from Anti that IRIS found him again.

IRIS won't force him back into their ranks, but they are very suspicious of him reappearing after years of no contact. They suspect he's hiding something, or has had a change of heart.... Which Jack has had.

(Also, to clarify, Jack is not Sean, it's the character of Jack.)

Jack is unaware that IRIS had found him until Chase was taken in for questioning. Once Chase came back, Jack suspected it was IRIS, and began worrying about them. This pushed him into a spiral and he began having nightmares again... Which pushed him into Anti's domain again and caused the demon to try and find him again

What the hell? What is this?

He staggers to his feet and tries to find a lightswitch on the wall, but there is nothing but smooth empty alabaster, and a few runes scratching at the tips of his fingers. Blind, deaf, he tries, at least, to get a scent for where he is and what’s around him, but nothing comes.

Nothing. Nothing. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

He slams his hands against the place where he thought the door was and tries to scream, without making a noise.

“Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!”

Darkness, impenetrable, mute, unmoving. Stiff air sits, scentless, on his shoulder. His pupils, wide enough to make his iris disappear, offer him no answers at all. He cannot hear himself breathe. He cannot hear himself breathe.

Shaking, he dares to remove his hand from the wall and takes a few steps forward, searching for the other side. He never finds it, though he walks for some minutes. When he turns around, the other wall is gone as well, as far as he can say.

His hands reach out into the nothing.

“No, no, no,” he mouths, silent. “No, no, no.”

Something crashes into him.

He nearly screams, tumbling to the ground. Cool cloth and warm skin collides with him as he and the other body crash to the floor, grabbing at each other’s arms.

“Jameson?” he cries, though nothing answers his vocal chords. “Marvin?”

They jerk away from each other, only to come crashing back a second later, desperate for something to cling to. Chase grips at his shirt, trying to make out the material, but they were both wearing dress shirts and he can’t tell which it is. Exasperated, he reaches boldly up and touches his face, ignoring the way he flinches back as he searches for an antique mustache on his upper lip.

Nope. Smiling a little, crying a little, he reaches up and finds a long strand of Marvin’s hair, tugging it gently, fondly, his hands shaking.

Marvin’s hands examine his face in return, running soothingly over his head and shoulders. A moment later, he is being hugged tight, warm lips pressed to his cheek. It’s bizarre, to be so close, but soundless, lightless, scentless. None of Marvin’s warm blue eyes, none of his soft, rolling voice, none of his flower and copper smell.

Even holding him, it is lonely, it is terrifying. But it is less lonely and less terrifying. Crying silently, Chase buries his face in his brother’s shoulder and lets himself be held.

Eventually, he traces a J across Marvin’s palm. Marvin nods against his shoulder and they pull each other to their feet, beginning to wander again, hand in hand, until, after hours, in the huge expanse of the horrible room -

Someone bumps into Chase’s chest and recoils. Relieved, Chase squeezes Marvin’s hand and reaches out to grab the third brother out of the darkness, finding his palm and squeezing tight. The other figure responds quickly, delighted, grabbing at his shoulders and hands and patting his cheek. They end up knocking their heads together once or twice, but then Chase has a warm armful of little brother, pressed to his chest for a deep hug.

Jameson’s face is streaked with tears, but he’s here, he’s here. It’s going to be okay. They have to find a way out of this, don’t they? They have to.

“Here, I found Marvin,” Chase says, even though it makes no noise. He drags Marvin close, trying to get the two to meet without losing his grip on either one of them. At the same time, Jameson is reaching for his other hand, trying to pull him closer. Chase laughs, confused by what he’s trying to show him, until, suddenly, in the darkness, he finds -

A fourth?

Jameson is already holding someone’s hand.

Chase freezes, going stiff in the middle of his brothers. Their hands are all out-stretched towards each other and they’re bumping around in their confusion, trying to figure out who’s who. Chase reaches out shakily to touch the stranger’s face.

No long hair. He can’t tell if the mustache is enough to be Jameson’s. It almost feels like it could be his own face. There is a smile on the familiar lips.

Jameson and Marvin have stopped moving too, holding his hand very tightly.

He can’t see anything. He can’t hear anything. He can’t smell anything.

The stranger reaches out and touches his face with a trembling hand.

Slightly wet.

Slightly warm.