Title: Lucky You
Pairings: ? - You'll probably get it, but I dun wanna tell at first!
Warnings: AU, horror-likeish stuff
Disclaimer: Don't own Gravi sadly...
Author's Notes: I wrote this a few weeks ago and posted it on another fanfic site, and decided to transfer it here here too. I don't want to give away too much, but there will be some author notes at the bottom to explain some things... The title for this fic has been taken from the song "Lucky You" by the Deftones. lyrics

Enjoy! Each review gets a cookie! Luffs everyone to everyone

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If it wasn't for the array of human skulls next to him, he would have been able to go back to sleep.

Maybe the scent of demon flesh in the air added to it as well, not that he knew what that smelled like.

It did smell old. Old like earth, stale air that only collected as the dead lay there. He felt a shiver go up his spine as he huddled against the wall. The bones and decay illuminated by the faintest light from the candles were more than enough to make him want to run. Instead, he sat and watched shadows play horrific figurines on the dirt walls, afraid to go to the exit. He could hear scratching against the far wall and refused to go near it.

He wasn't used to this feeling, missing the comfort of the gentle light the lanterns always brought. They were supposed to ward off catastrophe…

The sound of sudden, harsh laughter from that exit made his head shoot up, dark eyes wide and fearful. Then there was a language he didn't understand, sounding strange and poisonous to his ears. That died down to silence. Complete and utter silence.

Looking around, the boy crawled out of his corner just a bit. There were objects in the room that looked worn with age, and others he did not really recognize. But there was an old, broken crucifix stuck in the earth of the ground, appearing as if it were engraved with soot. He gasped as he realized what it was, knowing that those things were banned from the country.

Where…where was he?

Huddling back up to himself, he sighed, dusting grime from his hair that was getting too long to be acceptable. The sleeves of his robes were torn, but he didn't remember why. The kesa was missing too. All he wanted was just to be back home…

Then there was the light crunch of footsteps, almost too light, like a child's. But the figure that appeared in that tiny exit seemed anything but a child. There were more behind it, conversing quietly in that language that hurt his ears to hear. A new scent traveled into the room with them, that of some sweet smelling perfume or oil with the unmistakable stench of rotting corpses. It pricked at his skin, making bile feel like it was rising to his mouth.

They approached. In a group, no one person in front. He quickly looked around for anything to ward them off, but there was nothing. He felt his voice was too lost to recite any chant even if his mind could recall. Instead he just sat and watched, skin pale.

A few feet away, they stopped. He could hear the beating of his own heart terribly loudly, hoping that they could not. In the faint light he could make out marble white skin, some just slightly more tanned than others, and a variety of hair colors he had not seen since the Shogunate had banned all foreign contact and closed off the country. He heard more whispers of that strange tongue, but no mouths moved.

One of them poked at his foot, and he quickly reeled back, confused. Another stepped closer, and in a surprisingly gentle manner, lifted up his arm and pulled his sleeve back, eyeing marks on his wrist he had not realized where there. But the fingers were cold. Dead.

The person, who seemed to be a man, let his arm drop and stepped back, whispering something to a shorter man next to him. That person nodded, and suddenly in his native dialect, he heard the command,

"Stand up."

He just stared, dumbfounded.

"Stand up," the voice repeated, so soothing and amazingly melodic. He found himself complying without another thought. Another hand shot out to pull him forward, and though he had a moment of resistant, the strength in that seemingly average looking body was simply immense. In seconds he found himself surrounded, being prodded and poked. They even started to take off his robes to get a better look.

"…S-stop that!" he finally spoke, batting the hands away, shaking. They all paused, surprised. Then began to converse amongst themselves again. Some consensus appeared to have been found, and then they all left, all but one. The slightly smaller man who spoke to him before just stood there, staring back him.

"Uesugi Tatsuha, is that correct?" The boy immediately scrambled backwards, tripping over his own feet to land on the crusty earth, sending dust flying around them.

"H-how…" Tatsuha asked, but as the person came closer, he grabbed the nearest object – a human skull – and tossed it towards them. A hearty, all too joyful laugh that sounded like waves crashing against the shore at sunset filled the room and his ears, and for a moment, he felt himself slipping into it.

The person kneeled in front of Tatsuha, looking entirely too amused for his tastes. They had a foreign but familiar appearance. The slant of the eyes and slight tan to his otherwise pale white skin all hinted towards a Japanese heritage like Tatsuha, but the dusty yet enticing brown of his hair and striking blue eyes looked entirely different.

He hardly registered the hand on his face until the cool, fine tips of fingernails raked his skin, causing him to wince. "I know lots of things," the man just said merrily, intense ocean eyes traveling all over Tatsuha's face.

"I want to go home."

The man blinked, taken back. "You are home, silly." Then he smiled comfortingly, so much so that Tatsuha nearly believed it.

"I want to go home!" he repeated more firmly this time. But the man only seemed to be amused.

"Silly, silly boy," that wave-like voice said so quietly, but it echoed throughout the room like a symphony. As he leaned in, Tatsuha froze, letting the man lightly feel his face and nuzzle the hair behind his ear. "Mmmm…" he heard the inhale and gentle exhale of air rustle his dark hair. "You still smell like incense. I think I like that on you."

He felt…at peace and oddly cherished at the same time. This stranger felt familiar on another level. But the slight edge to the laugh that came next put him on guard again and Tatsuha stiffened, hands clenching the dirt in his fists.

"…Who are you?"

There was a moment of silence, then another gentle chuckle. Tatsuha swore he could smell the scent of copper and salt on the man's breath. It churned his stomach, but made butterflies flutter at the same time. The man's mouth ghosted along his jaw, before moving down to nip playfully at Tatsuha's neck.

"Your only friend."

Tatsuha shuddered, closing his eyes. Every part of his brain told him to run, to escape the decaying sweetness around him and to wake up from this enticing nightmare.

Pain. A prick at his neck. Two. He felt hard, bone-like points pierce his skin and dive deeper into his neck. Tatsuha opened his mouth to let out a scream, a shout, something. Yet no noise escaped, and soon he felt chilled lips rest on his flesh and suck. His head lulled back, the room going pleasantly fuzzy.

He was floating, barely registering being propped up against the wall. The now heated, wet mouth left his neck, and he felt the same pricks on his wrist, the same marked one. Dark, hazy eyes watched unfocused, but clearly followed the stranger with the bright ocean eyes and his movements.

"Wh…wha…" Tatsuha managed to croak out, feeling at a loss. He felt so good inside and so hurtful out. A solid but soft and dainty finger was placed to his lips and Tatsuha was silenced immediately.

"Shhh, don't speak when words are not needed," the silk-like voice said calmly through a smile. "But I'll humor you." Before he could register it, a warm tongue was prying its way through his lips, and Tatsuha allowed it, a feeling of hot pleasure filling him up from the inside out. Even that taste of copper and salt did not set him off as their mouths locked, and he even sucked the warm liquid off of the intruder inside him.

Suddenly there was air in his mouth again, and Tatsuha breathed out a sigh. A soft wave of darkness began to overtake him, but he could clearly hear the next words.

"My name is Ryuichi," the voice said with a warm, welcoming smile. Two little, pearl white points glinted in the darkness. Tatsuha's eyes went wide.

"And I think that I'd like to keep you."

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Fin?

Author's Notes: ...ta da! There was my crackedish...story thing. Just a few notes...

Shogunate - This is referring to the Tokugawa Shogunate which started in the earl 1600s and went on for some 200+ years. In this time Japan also closed itself off to foreigners, which is why Tatsuha was surprised to see these foreign-looking people and the crucifix. Also, in this Tatsuha is still living at the temple, a monk in training, really. During this time period, the Shogunate is also cracking down on Christianity. Make sense? Awesome!

Kesa - the ceremonial shawl that is worn over a kimono. I think it was around in this time, but I'm not sure. Please let this little piece go through without upsetting someone...

Also...Yes, Ryu's a vampire! He'd make such a smexy vampire too I hope I made him one!

Thanks for reading!