You make me want to pretend to be a better man.

[buckingham]

turn over a new leaf for you Here's the thing: in the past, you've not been a nice person. Whether you were just a little nasty, you did terrible things, you were forced to be a monster, or your heart was dark to the core, it's understandable why you weren't anyone's favorite. But those days are behind you. Now, there's someone you care for, someone you want to get closer to, someone you lov- Well, they make you want to be a better person. This desire could have been a gradual realization, or you could have suddenly decided one day to improve. In the same vein, you may want a complete overhaul, yet you could also be more realistic and try to work on one thing. Still, you know that you're the only one who can change yourself. How is that going? It can't be easy, as old habits die hard. Do you have a supportive loved one — or someone who wants nothing to do with you, no matter how much you improve? Comment with your character, preferences, and the role you'd like to take on in this meme: so, changing or changed for, if you'd prefer. Reply to others. Thread out what you agree upon.

Comments

Alleyne - the Headless Horseman ♞ OC ♞ Prefer F/M

[ridesheadless]

((ooc: Can be changing or the one changed for))

Anne Boleyn || The Tudors || Prefer F/M

[happyfalcon]

((ooc: Open to either, more likely to be the one changed for))

Daenerys Targaryen || Game of Thrones || Prefer F/M

[motheroftitles]

((ooc: Open to either role))

kobato hanato ( kobato )

[trouveur]

( ooc | either role is fine. )

Ned Stark || Game of Thrones || OTA

[winter_iscoming]

Yuki Suzuma \\ Legend of Korra OC \\ F/F

[meltsiron]

((Probably the one causing someone else to change, because she's already pretty nice to most people. But if someone wants to influence her to treat the exceptions better(read: mostly her brothers, whom she hates), then go right ahead.))

Bowser ♛ Super Mario Bros

[king_of_mean]

( The one changing. Bowser's been known to be a not-so-bad guy under the right conditions, but he doesn't want anyone to know. I mostly just want to play around with him bumbling around, trying to be a good guy and failing. Anyone and everyone welcome! )

Akiha Tohno | Tsukhime | m/f

[heartobind]

[The one to change for, preferably.]

john mitchell ( being human uk )

[washingup]

[bookshelfed]

[ The worst of it seems to be over. After almost a month of keeping him tied up, withdrawn from the world, he seems to be better. She withstood the monster, ignored every tactic he tried to keep her from saving him from that demon clawing inside. There were times she wanted to give in, to unbind him, to see him free, to believe the lies his desperation fed her. There were days she believed she wouldn't be able to save him, although the thought was fleeting, never expressed in front of him. But he told her before they even started, that she'd know, she'd be able to tell the difference.

And four days ago, she'd sensed the change in him but kept him tied up for two more days, just to make sure. When she let him go, they stumbled into bed, she whispered his name over and over into his skin. It was different this time, the way they moved together, the way he touched her. And since then, they scarcely left the bed, she figured it was a good transition, that if he took on too much at once, it might overwhelm him.

As she straddles his waist, wrapped in a loose sheet, her fingers tangle with his and she smiles softly, cheeks ruddy. The light to his darkness, although right now, she sees him as light, she sees hope and a bright future. She believes in him, believes in keeping him clean, redeemed, he needs only to keep believing he can do it himself.]

How would you feel about going to the market with me later? Just a small outing. [ The corner market was close and never busy, which meant no people and less blood to tempt him.]

[washingup]

[He's never tried to go clean before. He's heard rumors about it, whispered stories about vampires that had managed to kick their blood habit, who were able to live without murdering on a regular basis just to keep themselves from growing bored, but those were just rumors, whispers quickly stamped out for fear of giving people ideas.

While he was in the throes of withdrawal, he was certain those rumors were vicious, malignant things made just to hurt stupid idiots like him who actually believed them.

And yet, somehow, he made it through. Well, he knows how, she's right here beside him, the foolish human girl who looked him right in the eye and didn't back down even when the hot blood of her neighbors was still rich in the back of his throat. She'd promised to help him, and help him she did, not caving to his demands no matter what he said to her, refusing to run in fear when he dropped fang and snarled at her.

Josie Hunter, his salvation.

He rolls his head over to look up at her, a smile curling his lips as he slides his hands slowly up her thighs, covered only by the sheet they'd managed to dislodge at some point and half kicked off the bed.] Might not be a good idea. [He's firmly put Josie in the "not for feeding on" category in his mind, and he's proud of himself for managing to keep himself from even thinking about it now, but he's not sure if he can manage being out in public, around other people, not when he hasn't fed in weeks.]

[bookshelfed]

[ Help me. His words still echo in her ears even as she looks at him, from the other side of it, even as she sits perched on his lap, not once a victim of the brutality he is capable of. The line she walks is a fine one, she knows. The hunger is still there, she can see it in his eyes, even if maybe he doesn't allow himself to hunger for the blood that runs beneath her veins.

She won't push him, she sees and hears the doubt. But that smile, the one that parts his lips as his caress finds her thighs. It's one she's never seen from him before, not that she saw him smile much the past few days, which was to be understood. She has pushed him hard. And while it feels as though the storm has passed, she is wise enough to know that it can come again, that she should not be so naive as to think there won't be slip ups.

One hand moves up his chest until her finger can slide along the line of his jaw, then over the bridge of his nose, just tracing as she returns his smile with one of her own.] I think I am a good judge of what is a good idea and what is not.

[washingup]

Past history would beg to differ. [No sane person who can tell a good idea from a bad one would think that allowing a vampire into their flat and keeping him chained to their radiator was something reasonable to do. And yet Josie did it, carefully skirting around him when he lashed out at her, waiting out the bloodlust that clouded his mind until it finally broke and he was free from it.

The good thing about nor really being alive? Not really being burdened by the limitations of the flesh. Mitchell's stamina has increased ten-fold since he died, as Josie is well acquainted with after these past few days staying cooped up in her bed.

He thinks about starting it all over again, sliding his hands under her sheet and peeling it away from her, placing his mouth all over her body and reveling in the fearlessness she shows every time she arches up to meet him. It's very tempting, but he manages to restrain himself for now, settling for curling an arm behind his head and lifting his knees a little so she's securely cradled against his thighs as she trails her finger over his face.] But I won't hold that against you.

[bookshelfed]

If you think this-- [ she wiggles her hips above him, just to tease.] was a bad idea... [ Of course, she knows that he means this whole thing, not just being tangled in the arms of a previously unrestrained vampire whose sole purpose in life seemed to be mayhem. He means all of it, the way she gave him a chance, the way she agreed to help him, she knows that.

But she knows in her heart, which has barely had any time to stop racing since she slipped between the sheets with him, that she made the right choice in helping him. His heart is good. He just needed to find one that matched it. One that was open to hear the need in his.

He lifts his knees and she slides further into his lap, squarely so. And she can't help but laugh, her fingers moving to brush his unruly hair back from his face more.] I should hope not... [ Dipping down to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, she grins against his lips.] You know... eventually I will have to leave this bed. We're almost out of cigarettes and food.

[washingup]

Best idea I've had in years. [Herrick will murder him for this, he's sure of it, but Mitchell doesn't care. Forcing his way into Josie's life had just been convenient at the time, the best way to hide from assured arrest, but it's turned out to be the best thing he's done in decades. Even if it doesn't last, it's proven to him that he can go clean, and that's worth all the blood in the whole world.

His hair is probably a complete mess by now, but he doesn't care. He can't see it, anyway, what with not having a reflection and all that, and Josie doesn't seem to mind whatever state it's in. He just hums a little, returning her kiss when she dips down above him, his thumb stroking slowly over the smooth skin of her thigh.]

Well whose fault is that? [He frowns a little, almost pouting, at the thought of having to get up and get dressed and go outside and pretend to be normal. He doesn't want to bother. He wants to stay here, in these four walls, where it's safe and where nobody looks at him like he's a monster.] When will they come up with cigarette delivery the way they do with bloody milk? I thought this was supposed to be the future.

[bookshelfed]

[ Humming her agreement, she hopes that he will continue to feel that way. That he will remember that it feels so nice to be clean even if she doesn't know the feeling herself. It had been agonizing for him, she'd seen (and heard) it first hand those first few days. He'd thrashed and yanked at his bindings, he'd screamed at her, begged, promised to spare her only to threaten to kill her a moment later. She had not relented, she'd simply lived around him, kept her distance but did not leave him alone or abandon him except to get supplies.]

It is the future. [ She corrects him, says it brightly as if to say: the future is bright. For him, it is. Brighter than it had been before. She doesn't see him as the monster he is, just as the person he can be. It may fail in the end, it could cost her her life, maybe. But she would have done some good for a someone who needed it.

She moves to sit back up with a smirk.] But in case you haven't noticed, I haven't been to work since you've arrived. I'm sure I've been sacked and thus, even if it were possible, delivery of our necessities is an extravagance. [ She moves to shush him before he can express any regret.] It has been worth it. All of it. [ She pokes his nose with another smile.] Or you can make it even more worth my while.

[washingup]

Some future. [He grumbles just for the sake of grumbling, hiding his smile in the face of her infectious joy beneath a comical scowl. He's been told he has the perfect features for scowling. Brooding, they say. Apparently it's appealing.] No cigarette delivery. Pah.

[Technically Mitchell doesn't even need to smoke; it's not like he can be addicted to the nicotine or anything. The only thing he's addicted to is blood, and she's just helped him kick that habit. No, smoking is just to fit in, really, and something to do with his hands. Of course, he can probably find something else to do with his hands...

He's just sliding his hand out from behind his head when she reminds him of just how much her helping him has cost her and he falters for a moment, contrition attempting to make itself at home before she manages to derail that thought and he grins instead.] Oh? Fishing for something, are we? [Faster than she can see, he's flipped them on the bed, sending her crashing into the mattress and hovering over her with the speed of a cobra strike. And though her blood smells so appealing it makes his gums ache, all he does when he ducks his head down is nuzzle the tip of his nose against her neck, huffing a laugh against her skin.] What would you suggest, then?

[bookshelfed]

[ No matter what trust has been built up between them there is always a moment, quick and brief, that her heart stops when he moves so quickly. It is a rush, perhaps one she shouldn't chase as much as she does with him, that quick jolt of uncertainty that comes with his ability to move so quickly, with such an exact strength. She lets out a soft gasp, one that isn't born of fear at all, her eyes meeting with his very briefly before his face buries itself into her neck.

The first few times they did this (and yes, they've done this so often she's almost lost count), she was careful to remind him in subtle ways that she was human. Eye contact was important, gentle touches, soft exhalations of his name. He has better control than he gives himself credit for, now.

Now as his breath is hot against her neck, she simply presses closer to him, a hand lifting to grip the back of his head as she laughs with him. She won't let guilt eat away at him, that's how it starts, how he'll tumble back into that bloody oblivion.] Not fishing. Simply... suggesting an alternative form of payment is all. Should you think I'm deserving.

[washingup]

[Mitchell has been a predator, a hunter, for long enough to relish that brief moment of fear and adrenalin that spikes in any human when he moves faster than he should, when he proves how strong he is, how ruthless. And even though he swore he would never hurt her, Josie's fear is just as sweet to him as any of his other victims'. She gasps quietly and arches up to meet him, not protesting at all when he tucks his face against her vulnerable neck.

It would be so easy to open his mouth and bite down, to let her blood flow past his tongue, to coat the back of his throat and fill his belly, alighting him from within with the sweet glow of life that only comes from a freshly-tapped vein.

Her fingers tangling in his hair distract him and he shifts his head slightly to pull against her hold, turning his mouth against her shoulder and away from her carotid artery.] If this is how you normally pay for your cigarettes, I'm going to be quite put out. [He hides his smile against her skin, pressing a kiss to the hollow beneath her collar bone, nuzzling his way further down her body.]

[bookshelfed]

[ She is not so naive as to think that he isn't capable of ripping into her, that he could just as easily kiss her throat as he could savage it with fangs. It is that trust that she puts in him that seems to help him through this, the way she hides any fear she may have of him in favor of hope and encouragement.

She anchors him, as best she can, every moment since the day he begged her to help him, since he admitted that he needed someone else to help him. She reminds him that she is not just a blood bag, waiting to be fed upon, that there is light beneath all that darkness, a man who can be something more than a monster.

It is why she pulls a bit at his hair, pulls him back into reality, distracts him from the thrumming of her pulse. She lets his mouth wander, her breath less bated than it had been when she'd first let him do this. Each time, she hopes, gets easier for him.] Oh? It is the future, Mitchell. Women are allowed to pay for their cigarettes however they please, [ she chides him playfully, arching into him a bit just because she can.] Although if I did pay for them this way, I suppose I could get them delivered for free.