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headcaasefiction · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 2024

Day 1: Spanking

(Dean Winchester/AFAB!Reader)

Minors Do Not Interact

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 3,117

Summary: Y/N fumbles a routine hunt, upsetting Dean, who punishes her accordingly.

Warnings: Spanking, DubCon, Vaginal Fingering.

As far as hunts go, this one should’ve been relatively easy. A vampire nest: estimated to be only four… but you got cocky and let your guard down trying to impress Dean. You were just inches short of having your throat ripped out when a surprise fifth vampire snuck up behind you, and you’d either be dead or an undead monster right now if Dean hadn’t swooped in to save you. Rookie mistake.

“I never should’ve let you come.”

You wince, shame bubbling up in your stomach and throat, making you feel like you are going to be sick. Those words hurt worse than the cut on your shoulder and the bruise on your ribs.

Dean’s face is shadowed with a cold stare, steel jaw clenched tight as he white-knuckles the steering wheel. It was the most he had said to you for the last day and a half since he hauled your dumb-ass out of the nest, half beat and bleeding. He had wordlessly stitched you up in the motel room the two of you shared, never once looking you in the eye. You’ve been curled in on yourself since, tucked close to the passenger’s side door avoiding the urge to look at him.

“I still don’t know what the hell you were thinking,” he continues, as you see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye, “Could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

This is what you have been waiting for, you could feel the tension steadily growing for the last 400 miles, his fuming silent treatment hanging over your head. You knew you were in for the lecture of a lifetime the moment he cut off the vampire’s head that had you in their grasp.

It was supposed to be so simple; a cut and dry hunt, small nest just west of Memphis, two days tops and a short ride into the city for some well deserved food. Dean was adamant on going by himself at first. “I just need a calm job, something I don’t have to think about too much.”

Sam was exhausted and healing a few cuts and bruises from their previous hunt. They had just come back from a week long road trip to Salt Lake City – some kind of witch cult, so he was more than happy to sit this one out, saying he would not like to be riding around the country every waking moment of his life.

This was the perfect opportunity for you to finally have Dean all alone to yourself for once. You had never been on a hunt with just the two of you before, and you had been biding your time for the last five months you had been staying with them at the bunker.

“I’ve actually never been to Tennessee,” you piped up, poking your head into Dean’s bedroom as he packed, “I’ve always wanted to see Memphis, and it wouldn’t hurt to have someone watch your back, even if it’s just a few vamps.”

Dean nodded his head, thinking about your proposal for a moment before deciding, “You know what, sure, why not? I could use the company, and I can take you to the world’s best Hot Chicken that you will ever have in your life.”

Before you knew it you were hauling ass towards Memphis, Led Zepplin blaring on the radio, almost drowning out Dean’s per usual bad singing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him so happy. Head tossed back, tapping his palms against the steering wheel singing about “The warmth of your smile” and “The thrill of your touch” and “The light of the love that I found” with that damn smile that made your heart flutter beaming on his face.

You felt on top of the world, cloud nine, the sun shining through your teeth – this was perfect and you didn’t want it to end. Your times alone with Dean have always been brief, Sam never too far away, typically just around the corner. But not this time, for at least a few days you’d have the beautiful green-eyed hunter all to yourself, shared motel room and all.

Of course that all came crashing down the moment you had the brilliant idea of ignoring Dean’s orders to wait for him before entering the room the nest was sleeping in. You had a fantasy of swiftly taking them out as they slept, heads gone before they even knew what hit them, and Dean would come in ready for a fight only to find you already cleaning your blade, as if bored.

“What took you so long?”

And he’d sheepishly grin at you and praise your skills, put his arm around you as he took you out to dinner to reward you for your glowing victory…stupid, stupid rookie mistake.

“I said I was sorry Dean, I thought I could handle it,” you mumble, picking at a hangnail to try and distract yourself from the growing annoyance you feel as he continues his lecture, “We thought there were only four of them –,” but he cuts you off.

“Yeah but there weren’t four, Y/N, there were five! I told you to stay put while I scoped the rest of the place out, but you couldn’t even do that, you just had to barge your ass in there and almost get fucking eaten!”

Your fists are clenched now, almost as tight as Dean’s grip against baby’s wheel, your fingernails pressing little red crescents into the palm of your hand as you try not to match the volume of his voice.

“Well I didn’t get eaten, did I? I appreciate the save, that’s why it’s safer to not be alone on a hunt,” You grit through your teeth, your attempt to de-escalate, “If it was just the four I could’ve handled it.”

Dean rolls his eyes, scoffing, “You could’ve handled it? You couldn’t even handle the one that had you by the throat, Y/N.”

At that, you see red. You jerk to the side, twisting in your seat to face him, your hands balled up in fists, the urge to punch him in his condescending face almost overpowering.

“You’re one to fucking talk, Winchester! I’m so sorry I was trying to make things easier for you. How many times have you fucked up your and Sam’s plans because you decided to be a selfish prick and run off to fulfill some sick need to sacrifice yourself, huh?!”

As soon as the words leave your mouth Dean takes one hard look at you, face scrunched up with fury and slams on the brakes, bringing the Impala to a screeching halt along a lonely stretch of highway. You lurch forward in your seat, momentum pushing you forward tight against your seatbelt, your hands bracing against the dashboard with sudden fear before the car comes to a complete stop.

“What the hell, Dean?!” You yell, trying to steady your breathing and heartrate in an attempt to quell the sharp anxiety welling up.

Dean doesn’t say a word, just puts the car in park and gets out, slamming the door as he exits, causing you to jump a little. You clench your teeth and huff, rolling your eyes. This was just like him you thought, Dean Winchester, can dish it out but he can’t take it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean,” you continue, undoing your seatbelt and throwing your hands in the air, exasperated as you watch him circle around the hood of the car, “Me almost getting killed by a vampire doesn’t really matter if you’re going to kill us both in a goddamn car accident! What is your problem? I already feel bad enough as it is, you could get off my fucking back about it - Dean wait – WAIT! What the fuck?!” You scream as he throws the passenger side door open, grabbing your wrist with brutal force before yanking you out of the car, “What the hell are you doing?!”

He manhandles you to the side of the road as he opens the backseat door, completely ignoring your protests and how you attempt to pull and tug away from him to get your arm back, his grip bruising into your wrist with every movement.

“Teaching you some manners, sweetheart.”

“Teaching me what?!”

He slides onto the leather upholstery in the backseat, bracing his foot on the body of the car and grabbing your other wrist to pull you in with him. You attempt to twist out of his arms but his strength and leverage out weigh you, and you tumble in across his lap face down.

“What the fuck, Dean! Let me go!” You shriek, extending out one of your now free arms to push yourself off of him, feet kicking wildly, but to no avail. He takes your other arm and pins it behind your back, then wraps his other arm around your legs to keep them still.

“You keep moving around like that, you’re just going to make things worse for yourself.”

You have nowhere to go, nowhere to move to as you continue to squirm in vain, your face flushed red with humiliation while your one free arm flails against the seat. You’re completely vulnerable, your soft cotton short-shorts riding up to show off the plush curve of your ass, your oversized T-shirt sliding up to reveal your back and lack of bra. You know he can see everything and it makes you want to cry.

Eventually you give up, lying slack in his arms while trying to catch your breath, hissing at the slight twinge of pain from your bruised ribcage.

“Are you done?” He asks, tone blunt, grip still strong against your aching limbs, “I know your shoulder and ribs are a little fucked up, I’m not trying to make that worse.”

“Then…then what are you trying to do?” You question softly, unable to hide the concern in your voice.

“I’m trying to send a message, Y/N,” he says, before suddenly releasing your legs and rubbing his hand up the back of your thigh and onto your ass, making you go rigid, “Your behavior on the hunt; not following my orders, almost getting yourself killed, and the comment you just made about me, all because you don’t want to fess up about just how in the wrong you are, is completely out of line.”

If you thought breathing was difficult before, it now felt like you had never used your lungs in your entire life. It’s hard to concentrate on what he’s saying, he sounds almost far away, like he’s underwater. His hand is burning a hole through you, icy-hot shivers spark through your skin as a wave of warmth rolls through your stomach.

“And when brats get out of line, they need to be punished accordingly.”

Before you can say anything, before you can even think about what he is going to do to you, his hand leaves your backside for a moment and then comes down hard with a resounding SMACK on your right cheek. You cry out in shock and pain, a sharp sting spider-webbing across your sensitive flesh while your brain tries to play catch up with the position you are actually in.

“If you’re going to be part of the team, part of us, then you need to start listening to me, Y/N.”

His hand comes down again on your other cheek, but then in rapid succession he lands three more, lightning fast and more forceful than the first two. The pain blooms instantly, punching the air out of your lungs. You try to struggle again, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the tips of your ears burning hot. It’s no use, the moment you start to squirm once more, he begins his onslaught, alternating between hard slaps on your thighs and both cheeks of your ass.

“I was lenient with you in the beginning,” he says in between strikes, ignoring how you are now freely sobbing into the crook of your unconfined arm as he spanks you blood red, “But I have clearly not shown you who is really in charge here.”

“P-please, I’m sorry!” You managed to gasp out while choking on your own tears, “Please Dean I’ll do anything you say!”

He stops momentarily and harshly exhales, giving a hard suck to his teeth as if you have angered him even more, and after a brief pause, he tucks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and roughly pulls them down.

You think you feel your soul leave your body as you are completely stripped of the remaining modesty and dignity you have left. All you can do is whimper at the sensation, and try to shove down the feeling, that when all was said and done, this was actually turning you on.

He continues your punishment, dealing out quick sharp smacks on your completely bare ass, watching the red bloom across your flesh, “You’ll do anything I say? Where was that attitude back at the vampire’s nest, huh? You’ll do anything but actually listen to me when you could be in danger, is that it?”

Your head is spinning, you’re seeing stars and every time his palm connects with your skin it feels like you are being struck by lightning. You can still feel your hot tears pouring down your face and neck, but also the warm wetness spreading between your thighs at every blow he lands.

“No! Please Dean, please! I was trying to impress you, only ever did it because I desperately want to impress you! I just want you to like me!”

That makes Dean pause, releasing your arm from behind your back. For a moment the only sounds are the two of you panting in unison, your heart beating against it’s cage, threatening to burst out as the pain throbs and pulses along your skin.

You bury your face against the leather seat, hopelessly humiliated at your confession. You admitted your crush, and you admitted it face-down, bare-assed, across his lap in the back of his car after you royally fucked up what was almost supposed to be a mini-vacation. Rookie mistake. And you’re almost sure he hates you, is disgusted by you, is going to drive you back to the bunker, tell Sam what happened and then promptly kick you out…but then Dean breaks the silence.

“Y/N…I already like you,” he murmurs, his hand finally soothing over your red-swollen skin, up the curve of your ass, finally comforting you as your body shakes and quivers from his harsh punishment, “That’s why I couldn’t stand it if you ever got seriously hurt on my watch.”

Those words steal your breath away again, butterflies dancing in the warm waves of sensation that lap through your belly, that echo I already like you, I already like you.

His touch is now soft and gentle while he traces over the light purple bruises that are starting to form across your backside, speckled up each cheek and down to the backs of your thighs. His fingertips linger there while he massages you, taking the pain away as you realize he is inching ever closer to your dripping center.

“Dean...?” You twist around as much as you could to try and look at him, your eyes shining with need and curiosity. What you find is his bright green eyes blown wide, darkened with hunger staring back at you.

He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, breathing in deeply, fingers so close you can feel the heat radiating off of them, “If you follow my orders, like a good girl, no one gets hurt, and I even give rewards for good behavior.”

With a tender motion, his middle fingertip glides along your slick entrance, then up and over your clit, causing you to cry out as rapid ecstasy washes over you. You think this must be a dream.

“Dean, Dean…”

Before long he’s pumping two thick fingers into you, his other hand threaded through your hair as his thumb softly caresses your temple. You’re a whimpering, mewling mess as you cry out in time with the thrust of his hand, obscene wet noises filling the air. You hide your face in your arms once more, not wanting him to see how flushed you are from the embarrassment of knowing your pussy is leaking all over his jeans.

His expert fingers bully you effortlessly, hitting the spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars every time he enters your cunt. The warm knot continues to tighten in your stomach, pleasure singing in your veins as you arch your back, ass in the air, thighs spread as wide as you can manage without falling off the seat.

“Mmmm, good girl,” he whispers, withdrawing his drenched fingers and rubbing glossy circles over your clit.

You’re incredibly close, his continuous movements keeping you on the cusp, the knot ready to snap. And just before you are ready to cross over the edge, tingling heat encasing your body from head to toe… he stops.

“Deeeaaann…” You whine before biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut, overwhelmed, “That’s not fair!”

He chuckles, threading a hand through your hair once more and soothing the other over your back before helping you to sit up and face him, “I said I give rewards for good behavior.”

Quickly he leans in and kisses you as if he were starving, licking along your bottom lip and giving it a little nip when he pulls away, making you shiver with want.

“But you called me a good girl,” you pout, pressing your foreheads together while your fingers intertwine. You’re seated directly on his lap now, and you can feel how hard his cock is straining against his jeans. Playfully you wiggle your ass, grinding down on him, “I promise I’ll do whatever you say.”

That makes him groan, but instead of unzipping his pants and fucking you into the backseat, he hands you your crumpled up shorts and panties.

It makes your heart sink for a moment until he tells you, “You have a lot of making up to do, sweetheart, but you can do that back at the bunker, in my room.”

You flush, and your heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, shifting over to the empty side of the seat so you can slip back into your shorts, “Will you just…will you promise not to tell Sam, please?”

He smirks, leaning over to kiss your neck, “Yes, as long as you stop putting yourself in danger just to impress me. Otherwise you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

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#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #dean winchester x reader #x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural kinktober

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smilesheartshugs · 14 days ago

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Halloween AU pt.2

A continuation of:

Tim centric

It’s been four months since his parents were last home. About a month since he ran out of food. Three days ago the water faucets stopped working. Good news! His parents should be home soon! They promised they’d be home for his birthday! It’s his birthday tomorrow so his parents must be home soon! Until then he’ll wait in his safe spot. Years ago he had found a hollowed out section of wall in his closet. He can hear everything in the house from that spot. It’s also the warmest spot in the house. Especially when he moves the boxes to block the draft from entering his little budding spot. With the heater broken durning the unusually cold weather, the isolation of the walls keep his little hiddy hole warm. With nothing else to distract himself from his thirst and hunger, he might as well take a nap until his parents return home.

When Tim wakes up he’s face to face with his own body. Fear and confusion runs through him. What is he going to do when his parents get home?

He fazes through everything instead of touching it. At least he doesn’t feel hungry any more.

It’s another two months before his parents return home. With that time was able to practice picking things up and interact with the tangible world. If he didn’t know he was dead he would think he was still apart of the living.

After helping his parents unpack the first thing he says is “I died while you where away”

“Don’t be ridiculous Timothy you’re just fine. Obviously you’re standing right here” his mother responds

“No im a ghost!” Tim insisted

“There’s no such thing as ghost sport cease this game at once” his father answers

“No really my body is in my closet!”

The family argues back and forth for a bit which Jack and Janet believing Tim to be playing a game. They angrily look in his closet only to not see his body. After all it’s in the hidden hiddy hole in the very back behind some of the boxes. His parents leave before time could move the boxes out of the way. His body is certainly worse for wear. Areas have puffed up in some spots while other areas of flesh has melted away. When he first woke up after dieing his body only looked like it was asleep, now it looks like it belongs in a zombie movie.

Three years later

Jack and Janet are disappointed that Tim hasn’t grown any, he makes a shrimp ten year old. Tim has stopped insisting that he’s dead. The creative punishment his parents dish out has long made him stop wanting to prove his death.

Tim still checks on what’s left of his body, it’s mostly bone now, but it’s proof he’s not crazy and that he really did die. He watched as his flesh slowly rotted away.

He’s made friends with the Waynes, they think he’s a normal human boy, all be it a bit small. He learns that other undead creatures exist, as well as other hunting beings. Jason is another undead, though he got to keep his original body. He was murdered by a clown about a year after Bruce took him in. No one has seen the clown since then though. Tim suspects that the clown may have been one of the goul’s first meals that the werbat provided. That would explain why Jason was so quick to forgive Bruce and why the clown hasn’t been seen again.

Jason brings a lot of raw meat for his school lunches, usually beef or lamb. Though recently it’s been a lot more lamb than cow, Tim wonders why that’s the case.

One day Jason drags Tim back to Wayne manor under the guise of studying for their upcoming test together. Tim was quick to bond with the rest of the family. He’s felt more at home here than he’s ever felt back in drake manner. It doesn’t take long until Tim becomes a regular guest at Wayne manor.

Even though he doesn’t need to eat, Tim never turns down a meal. In fact, he’s almost always snacking on something. Even on those cardboard cookies no one likes. Well it might be more accurate to say he doesn’t physically need to eat. He gets anxious if he hasn’t had any thing to eat for a while. It’s nice of the Wayne’s to bring him all these extra snacks though!

Two years later

Tim is a regular fixture in Wayne manor. After finding out how often his parents are away they insisted that he’d stay with them.

This brings us to the current problem. Cass needs to cast a protection charm on the manner, a ward agent an evil cult. Unfortunately there’s one ingredient that Cass can’t get her hands on.

“A bone of an unburied one freely given.”

What this means is that she needs a bone of someone who hasn’t had a funeral, which means she can’t just buy one off of a donated body. Stupid old spells with stupid specific unwritten rules that make more sense or the time period it was written in and not modern day. She also can’t look for lost hikers in the woods because they can’t give consent to being in the spell.

But Tim could help! He’s never had a funeral, and he’s here to give his consent for using his bones! It’s a win win!

While the older Wayne’s were trying to figure out how the spell would work with some from if substitute Tim convinces Jason to come help him get something from his bedroom back in drake manor.

“So what are we grabbing baby bird?” Jason asks Tim

“You’ll see when we get there” Tim replies. He’s learned that he can’t convince people he’s dead. He learned that the hard way.

“Okay okay but why am I bringing a box again?”

“My boxes are all stained”

Tim brings Jason to his closet where he moves those old boxes out of the way.

“Baby bird what is this?” Jason asks a little freak out about the skeleton in the closet.

“The missing ingredient for cass’s spell!” Tim answers cheerfully.

“Tim, we can’t use this with out their permission, why do you have a corps in your closet?” Jason is freaking out that there’s a dead person in the baby bird’s closet and he doesn’t know how it got there.

“No im giving you permission to use it!”

“Tim you can’t give permission for someone else’s body”

“No! Jason you don’t understand! I’m giving you permission to use it!” Tim has frustration tears in his eyes.

That’s how Jason found out that his baby bird was dead, be the looks of it he’s been dead for a while.

“Now help me bring it to Cass?”

#batfam #batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #damian wayne #tim drake angst #angst #Tim angst #Bruce Wayne #Robin #dc robin #dc Red Robin #Red Robin #bat man fanfiction #batman fanfiction #fanfiction

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imahinatjon · 4 months ago

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Vampires and their Spawn

Dazai, Nikolai and Jouno.

It's been a while since I've written anything, I'll put my notes on that at the end, for now, enjoy some Vampire Lords while you play the part of their lovely vampire spawn.

Some dark themes at some point I guess.

Dazai

• I can imagine that, as a vampire, he's kinda useless in terms of being a vampire lord. Like, he's still Dazai, so he's still intelligent and sort of charming in his own way, quick thinker, all the usual, I won't drown you with the details.

• But I imagine his ability - no longer human - translates over to vampirism.

• If he were a spawn, this would be great! He couldn't be compelled like others. But he's not, he's a vampire lord, he cannot magically compel others, he can't change forms, he can't... anything cool or dangerous is off the table really.

• Expect for turning people - he can still turn others into his vampire spawn, not that he's really felt the need.

• Being a vampire means being able to roam freely only during the night, or sometimes on a particularly cloudy day.

• But that's probably the only reason he met you. His damned curse let him meet the most beautiful warm blooded, living person he'd ever seen.

• Your life wasn't difficult to infiltrate, for dazai anyway. Any other person might have had a hard time. But not this guy!

• The how's and the whys are all irrelevant now- facts of the past. All that's necessary to know, is that you became his vampire spawn.

• Not the first, but the only one at current. You never asked what happened to the one or ones before you, and he never told you (but you could probably guess)

• He doesn't treat you any differently from normal just because your now his spawn.

• Your in a relationship as healthy as a relationship with Dazai can be.

• He can't compell you and has no actual control over anything you do, so he has no need to worry that your not genuine, doesn't have to worry that your staying around against your own free will. He's content.

• Just worried.

• More for your safety than anything, you may be undead and permenantly by his side, but you could still die.

• As a result, he perfers you stay away from him in areas that are too public.

• If it's like a dark quiet park with barely any people there, or a really obscure unheard of restaurant, or even a tiny only movie theatre that no one goes to anymore - then its great! He likes having dates and stuff in places like these.

• He just won't take you anywhere with a lot of people incase someone spots you and connects the dots

• Overall - he's not controlling, obsessive, scary or even remotely threatening, he's just a little cautious.

• This... is not a pleasant experience. At first anyway.

Nikolai

• Nikolai is a not so busy, busy guy. And isn't interested in serious romantic relationships, he's a vampire lord with no spawn and no intention to take any spawn.

• Claims he has no need for them. And he doesn't, I mean, his ability is pretty damn cool, and super useful, so that's that.

• How you became his spawn though? Totally an accident.

• You were someone he thought was hot, and someone he occasionally engaged in acrivities with. It was a mutually beneficial thing no harm was being done.

• Until he got a little too adventurous and bit you. It happened on occasion, and was typically fine, but he went too far and ended up turning you instead of just taking a little blood.

• He doesn't know how because that isn't what he intended, he didn't even recognise he was doing it until he realised you felt cold, but was very much still alive and moving about.

• It lead to a whole fight and everything - a massive argument and you didn't see eachother for months. You were understandably annoyed that he turned you.

• He just thought it was funny.

• I mean - he wasn't thrilled either, but like, it was kinda funny.

• Then he realised that he could essentially feel where you were all the time. That got old after a while though, as did avoiding you (technically you were avoiding him)

• So he approaches you. He's not really into the whole serious conversation, but indulges you nonetheless and listens to what you have to say.

• And in turn he tells you it was an accident.

• You leave on slightly better terms and go back to your old routine. Though now it feels slightly different.

• He doesn't realise he's doing it until its too late and he's talking you out on nice dates and looking out for you more often and asking how your day was - and of course, seeing you for more than just the benefits.

• The realisation was not a good one for him and he 100% tried to kill you over it.

• News flash - you survived and begun avoiding him again. Which honestly hurt him way more than killing you would have.

• Don't worry for too long though, after about a year or so, he'll settle down, it's just a matter of wether or not your willing to let him back into your life and potentially have a more serious relationship with him after everything he did.

• If you choose a relationship, he's actually sweet - doesn't use his powers on you unless your in imminent danger of literal death. Also very attentive and gives you basically anything you ask for, even if he has to steal it.

Jouno

• If you'd rather not, we'll now you have an insane stalker who can literally sniff you out like a bloodhound. It's not fun, and the only assurance you really have is that he won't hurt you and will always keep a distance.

• He'd be a scary vampire.

• He's scary enough as a normal human, as a member of the hunting dogs.

• But a vampire lord?

• He's not knowingly a bad guy - let's put it like that.

• Teruko is the only reason the two of you met. It took her a lot of convincing to even get him to agree to date anyone (he seemed tense and was being annoying. She thought he could do with going out and having a good time, a little relaxation, a little distraction, and thought a date was the perfect idea, but ovbiously she wasnt gonna go)

• When he meets you, he's all smiles, extremely pleasant, seemingly caring, AND he has some sort of job in law enforcement? He doesn't tell you what he does at said job, bit he presents as the perfect guy.

• If perhaps a little distant. See, he's good at putting up that act, but if you pay just the right amount of attention, and look closely enough, he's not entirely genuine. Not honest.

• You personally think it's because he's not interested, and your more than happy to leave it at that. It was still a pleasant time. And you weren't really looking for anything particular anyway.

• So it surprised you when he called and arranged to meet you again. He didn't really ask, more so just told you where he was gonna be.

• Still, you turned up.

• It's like this for a while. He's just enjoying your life presence, and it buds from there. He never tells you he's a vampire, he wants you to figure it out for yourself.

• He leaves little hints.

• He makes sure you notice how cold his skin is, he ensures that at some point (probably after a few months) he lays with you and has your head resting on his chest precisely where you should hear a heartbeat - your not going to hear anything, and it will all leave you questioning.

• Especially when his teeth, that are just that tad bit too sharp brush across your neck, surprising you and worrying you a little - why are his teeth so sharp?

• You don't believe in vampires, or didn't anyway. They couldn't have been real. But then he bit you, not enough to actually draw blood, but enough to let you know that he could, if he wanted.

• Of course it scared you, but he'd worked your trust at this point, so you weren't necessarily afraid of him.

• You looked to him, and though he couldn't see you, he could hear your heart rate pick up rapidly, before slowing back down to, only a slightly worried pace.

• And then you let him drink from you.

• That's how it was, for years. He cared about you, sure, he was more than happy to be in some sort of relationship with you, definitely, but it wasn't ever meant to go that far. It was just... well, your blood was not the only thing about you he found thoroughly enticing.

• Still, he kept you around, alive, for a few years until he eventually asked if you'll spend an Eternity with him, if you'll become his spawn.

• If you didn't agree - then the relationship was over. He wanted something more permenant with you than the fleeting moment that was a simple humans life time.

• If you agreed - well, he was quick to turn you. He told you about all the drawbacks, and made sure you understood - you were stronger and better, but you couldn't go out in direct sunlight, and would need to feed on blood.

• And then you were his for an Eternity.

• He was definitely controlling, definitely wanted to know where you were all the time. And definately used his powers on you.

• Granted that was on a very rare occasion and only happened when you put yourself in danger or someone else put you in danger.

• He hadn't noticed as much before, but he definatly noticed a lot more about you after he turned you, and ultimately determined you weren't safe on your own - he was wrong, and you can convince him to give you breathing space, because a bump against the side of a table is not a life threatening injury.

• So, after getting used to having you around permenantly and being his first 'spawn' and by extension serious relationship, he does calm down and leaves you to your own devices most of the time.

• ...by the way, he still never told you what his job was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am seriously out of practice. I've been ill for over 3 months now and still am currently ill 😅 it'll get better eventually but, there's been that.

That and baldurs gate 3 took over my life

I'll try and get back into writing. This was a warm up.

This hasn't been spell checked! Yet

#imagine #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader #bsd jouno #jouno x reader

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autumnaaltonen · 1 year ago

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i really would like to know what would be alucard reaction to a goth reader and what would be his thoughts on their style and the music they listen to!! ❤️❤️

really love your works btw!!

Alucard x Goth! Reader

Warnings: none

Immediatly thought you were the rogue vampire he and Seras were tracking down, and had one hand on his gun.

Why else would you be wearing only black from head to toe in broad daylight?

It was 6:30pm.

Seras had to quickly explain the concept of goth fashion, and how 'walking the path of darkness' is also an aesthetic, along with a vampiric lifestyle.

Alucard is happily surprised, having only ever spent time around God-fearing humans who would mistake a Hot Topic for a satanist church.

Imagine his surprise when you turn out to be their contact for the mission, having witnessed the rogue vamp acting super sus while being a regular at your favourite nightclub.

When people started going missing week after week, last seen at the entrance to the club, you knew the wannabe Edward Cullen sleazebag had something to do with it.

You walk the two vampires into the club just before opening to show them around, Skeletal Family and The Cult already blaring through the speakers as the bar sets up for the night.

"It doesn't matter if we all die. Ambition in the back of a black car. In a high building, there is so much to do. Going home time, a story on the radio."

Yeah, Alucard digs it.

Discussing the recent victims, you've already come to the conclusion that the rogue is targeting new kids to the scene, teens and young adults who were just getting into goth culture themselves.

Basically, Alucard and Seras were targeting an undead nark gatekeeper.

Alucard admires your smarts and obervational skills, given that you recognized the target without any help from the experts, but you reassure them that they'll know the vamp when they see him.

Before the club opens, you take Seras behind the bar and force her to go through the Lost n' Found bin to suit up. While her military cosplay hugged her in all the right places, the blue and white were going to make her stick out like a sore thumb.

You reassure Alucard that he's already dressed to impress, and that no one will be any wiser that he was new at the club.

"Will my attire not attract any unwanted attention?" he asks you with a smile, as you help Seras with her makeup in the washroom.

"You will have so many bitches humping your leg, you're going to have trouble shaking them off when the vamp breaks into a run. So perhaps you could lose the hat and goggles," you suggest, squeezing Seras' chin as you force a fake septum around her nose.

As the club opens up to the street, in flows a tidle wave of black lace, sequins and leather. Alucard has never felt more at home, and Seras has never felt so uncomfortable around humans in her life.

Just as you said, it takes the two vamps less than half an hour to spot their target. Cake faced, glammed up with tacky chrome, and biting throats at the bar while patrons think he's just some kinky shmuck with some really authentic fake-fangs.

He's not even trying to be subtle.

Alucard and Seras manage to lead him to the mens bathroom, where they have fun pushing the prick around, treating him worse than the poor kids he 'napped and killed.

You stand at the door, not letting anyone in, and telling them that "staff are setting up a gore-fest theme as promo for the new Saw movie."

With how efficient the mission went, compared to the usual goose chase they go through, Alucard keeps your number in case they have another vamp lose in the city.

You already have a list of possible rogues at other goth hangouts you're familiar with, and are more than happy to help keep your community safe.

However, you find Alucard contacting you more so out of boredom than for work, not that you mind in the slightest.

He shows you the real nitty-gritty of the dark side, how shadows and death bend to his every whim without question, given he is the rightful King of the undead.

Alucard finds your style practical and unique, but thinks you can do better than nightclubs and festivals. It doesn't take long for him to take you under his wing as a Hellsing human associate, acting as a bridge between vampires and the living to communicate on undead disturbances.

You become his right hand, not a secretary, but his human voice and confidante. And no one dares ever question your clothes or makeup whenever you walk into a room, because they know the shadows that follow you aren't just for show anymore.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alucard #hellsing alucard #alucard x reading #hellsing alucard x reader

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blueberrypancakesworld · 1 year ago

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Jasper/Alice/Male reader

he feels he belongs in the mosh pit cause he typically goes to the mosh pit at concerts cuase he loves to mosh. Jalice aren't pleased about it

Jalice - Mosh pit

warning : tiny angst, fluff, no use of y/n

masterlist

Info : Thanks for the request have fun reading

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night hung over the festival. The large site near Forks had been set up provisionally. But the lack of comfort did not bother anyone. For everyone it was only important that their favorite band played.

The fans were in a good mood and the musicians were just smashing away. But they got that at the annual several weeks running Forks Music Festival.

The loud music penetrated the ears of the cold creature let him almost go deaf and it almost be too much. But the feeling of feeling the heartbeat of others around him. To somehow feel alive again.

The loud music of the band took him in while he let himself be pushed back and forth in the mosh pit. Always further and further lost in all this and the joy of the music the former human being came back to him.

But even though he felt this need inside of him, this hunger every time he put his hands around the bodies around him for a fraction, it was also the joy that went through him. Finally the festival season was upon us again.

The late summer nights had returned and he and the other creatures could go outside longer at night. Since they went in the summer usually always away in darker areas. But that was now no matter finally he was back here and could not be happier.

Would not there with in the crowd this one smell hanging. Sweetish and yet slightly tart he came to the vampire woke up in him again the sense. Something he could not resist the eyes that became dark black and barely visible in the crowd.

His body that did not move with the same movements as the others moved hungrily towards the bleeding person in the crowd. An elbow had landed on the woman's nose and blood was running from her nose.

Just a small injury in such a large crowd in a mosh pit where people have been injured before. But for the cold creature it was everything. Touching as his finger stretched out to the woman, he suddenly heard two voices in all the crowd.

They seemed familiar to him and yet in his mind the woman's blood seemed all the stronger. He almost had her, would only have to move a little further and then.

But before he could strike, four hands had grabbed him and pulled him out of the crowd at a speed that the people did not notice. ,,Are you still okay? What's gotten into you?" asked Alice who let go of him and the blond Jasper still pressed the common friend of the two against the tree.

He looked at his two beloved ones, saw the worry and something like fear in their eyes.

Although the third of them was newborn and had been for a few weeks, it was still difficult to get used to the new life. ,,Into me? Alice I have lived the moshpit, the music...the people they are good for me" he countered and looked helpfully at Jasper. He had rarely seen their common love Alice so excited, so grown up, so serious.

But Jasper shook his head, his blond curls bobbing, before he said, ,,No, Alice is right, you are dead...you are one of us, a vampire, an undead," before he let him go. Alice sighed even though she didn't have to in her condition.

She closed her eyes for a moment before he intertwined her hand with that of her two lovers. ,,I know it's difficult...that it's all so new and unfamiliar. But you-you are no longer human, my star. You are one of us," she reminded him gently, squeezing his hand lightly. Jasper also gave the other a loving look. The words hit him and yet he knew that they were right. He had chosen the path to be with his two loved ones.

To be with Alice and Jasper. ,,You're right...when I'm ready then...you come with me and we'll go to the mosh pit together" he suggested and saw how the other two agreed Alice seemed to be clearly excited before she said ,,A vampire mosh pit!" she called happily and Jasper couldn't help smiling.

Even if the three vampires had to fight forever with the thirst for blood, there was one thing that would stand against it. The love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#twilight saga #twilight movies #twilight alice #alice cullen #twilight jasper #jasper whitlock #jalice #alice cullen x reader #jasper cullen x reader #reader is male #amab reader #no use of y/n

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mystra-midnight · 8 months ago

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Possession

summary: even if he hadn’t been a vampire, able to hear the wild thundering of her heart and feel the coiling of her muscles as he hovered over her like the cold, dead night, he would have known. he would have seen it in the depths of her fiery eyes.

tags: 18+ only. emotional anguish. brief mentions of rape. brief mentions of abuse. astarion being a respectable horndog. he's also got it bad for his girl: because he needs real love dammit

w/c: 1.2k

a/n: i finally started playing bg3 after waiting and waiting for it to be released and then never having the time. astarion is always my number one. here is a little moment with him and vitani, my bg3 character. but truly it could be any tiefling character or reader.

Panic.

That was what she had felt the first time she'd awoken to find Astarion staring down at her with those perfectly pointed fangs. It had pooled in the pit of her stomach and festered, burning as she swallowed around the feeling. Vitani had tried to push it down, tried to ignore the way it twisted through her organs like a snake, poisoning her from the inside out, starting where he couldn't see the damage.

Except he knew. Well, no, he suspected.

How could he have known the truth? He was but a stranger then, a predator looking for a meal. Astarion couldn't have possibly known the torment of her past when she refused to breathe life into it by speaking words aloud. He couldn't have known that the scars on her body were from something other than fighting. He couldn't have known that her body had not always belonged to her.

But he'd seen the mirror of his emotions in her demon eyes and had suspected the dark truth. When he'd looked down at her, watching the way she scrunched her eyes shut and refused to watch as he came closer, when he'd looked at how her claws burrowed into the dirt to ground herself, when he'd felt the tension coiled through her blood and watched how she refused to move or breathe, he suspected where her anxiety stemmed from.

At the beginning of his undead life, he acted much the same. But hunger won, and he'd fed.

She should have told him then, taking the time to explain the feelings his feeding invoked. She should have told him that it brought a long-buried past to the surface of her mind and turned memories into reality. Teeth and tongue, claw and fang— she felt them on her skin again. The bite of the whip as it lashed skin from bone. The taste of a dozen men’s essence.

The memories of those nights were unrelenting, making her feel so small, so helpless. Having him shadowed over her reminded her of how she’d been property to be taken and used. And yet, Vitani had trusted him for reasons she didn’t fully understand even now. And Astarion had almost betrayed that trust— he’d almost lost himself in blood-lust.

And now here they were, in the same situation again.

Except this time, he knew.

Even if he hadn’t been a vampire, able to hear the wild thundering of her heart and feel the coiling of her muscles as he hovered over her like the cold, dead night, he would have known. He would have seen it in the depths of her fiery eyes.

Vitani felt impossibly small, lost in the memories bubbling to the surface of her mind as she lay beneath him. There was a rising panic threatening to choke her. A secret part of her wanted to fight and hide her feelings: to keep him at arm's length.

Breath struggled to feed her starving lungs as she took in the sight of him— beautiful and haunting, untouched by the hands of time. He smelled like bergamot and rosemary, and his lips tasted like brandy when he kissed her. Astarion always seemed to invade her senses, somehow smothering and drowning her while breathing life into her lungs.

Her fingertips touched his cool skin and traced along the points of his ears, eliciting the undead's pleased and quiet growl. But even that sound couldn't soothe her as it usually did. Her skin felt burned beneath the weight of his desires, yet she shivered beneath his ice-cold touch.

"Sweet flower." His voice was soft, each syllable breathy, as light as air. His lips followed a familiar path along the slope of her neck, where the tips of his fangs caught at her racing pulse. Her body jolted beneath him, pleasure and trepidation painting the whimper that tumbled past her traitorous lips.

Her claws found purchase in his pale skin, but he felt them tremble. Her hips canted, seeking friction, and he caught them in his palms to pin her in place.

"Vitani." His voice was louder this time, though no less captivating.

This time, fiery orbs drew open to find his vermillion stare. His eyes had deepened to blood red and glistened beneath the moonlight. Vitani stared at him, brows drawn together ever so slightly. For a moment, he was tempted to soothe the wrinkles away with the swipe of his thumb, but he was as still as night.

"Astarion?" Her voice shook, quaked beneath the force of her emotions, arousal and lust, hesitation and fear. His expression was soft yet serious as he gazed into her eyes, refusing to let her look away and count the stars, as she so often did to avoid talking about her emotions.

He had learned how she behaved— how she thought and fought. Vitani had a tenacity that rivalled their hellion companion and a magical finesse that made the Wizard of Waterdeep envious. He had also learned what upset, frightened, and excited her.

And through each minute spent in her company, he had ached for this moment. Astarion longed to feel her velvet heat wrapped around his length, for her to give herself to him as he gave himself to her. He wanted to hear her scream his name, to watch her write beneath him, to swallow the breathless moans from her lips. Astarion longed for her, craved her, and coveted her.

But he could not hurt her.

"I can feel you shaking," he said softly, leaning down to ghost his nose along hers. "We do not need to. A kiss is more than enough for now. We can stop." Even his appetites, the carnal lust that ruled his roost, could not stay satiated on the taste of her lips alone.

Their placement was not unlike the first time: her on her back, him between her thighs. But it was so very different. Clothes had been forfeited in the heat of the moment, now lying haphazardly on the forest floor. She could feel the weight of his erection pressed against her core, the chill that met her heat. And this time, she wanted him more than she could remember wanting anyone, more than she'd wanted her freedom for so many years.

This time, he was not a predator, and she was not prey.

"No," she answered in a whisper.

He was partway through peeling himself from her, the separation of their skin agonizing in his mind, when her thighs tightened around his slim waist, trapping him there. "I don't want you to stop."

The Pale Elf lofted a finely sculpted brow as his undead heart thumped. She canted her hips again, letting his erection press through her slick folds, letting him feel her arousal. With seeking hands, she pulled him down and found his lips with her own. She smelled like nightshade and lavender and tasted like vanilla. And his head swam.

And in that moment, Vitani knew that her body was still not her own. But she was not afraid because it belonged to Astarion— the pale elf who had lived two centuries, who had been possessed, used, and manipulated. Who had been hurt, and who had been broken. They were kindred spirits— opposite sides of the same coin. If ever there was one person who understood the wild racing of her heart and the torment of her thoughts, it was him.

"I'm yours, Astarion."

And as though words had not been enough to prove her devotion, Vitani offered him her throat.

#astarion #astarion x vitani #astarion x tiefling #astarion smut #astarion fanfiction #astarion x ofc #astarion drabble #astarion imagine #astarion bg3

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h50europe · 1 year ago

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MERTHUR - BLOODLUST (a Merthur AU where Merlin is a vampire and a sorcerer, living under a roof with Arthur, who knows about his secrets. The prince left the family castle after a fallout with his father, who hates all supernatural creatures. Uther let his demon hunters terrorize the entire town. The friendship between the prince and the vampire stems from the night Arthur left the castle. Wasted, he ended up in a dark alley, where he would almost get killed by a bunch of werecreatures if it weren't for Merlin, who protected him and took him in until he sobered up. Since that night, they have looked after each other and tried to deal with their growing feelings for each other.)

"Holy Christ, you are bleeding!" Worried, Arthur dropped to his knees beside Merlin, who groaned as he applied pressure to the nasty gash in Merlin's side. Not because of the pain, but Arthur smelled delicious. Merlin's eyes focused on the throbbing vein in his friend's neck. Merlin wanted nothing more than to grab him by his silky blond hair and drag his throat to his mouth. Merlin's jaw ached as his fangs snapped free. Arthur's eyes widened. Of course he knew his friend was a vampire. Only, until today he'd never seen him like this. Usually, Merlin was a master in disguising his true identity.

Merlin felt his undead life draining from him as he cast a pleading look at his friend. "Please help me inside."

"Merlin, I..."

"Please."

Arthur never did what Merlin asked, and Merlin never said please. So that was a night of firsts. Arthur's heartbeat thundered in his chest as he grabbed him under his armpits to drag him over the threshold. Merlin could hear it but also smelled the blond's angst.

"Tell me what to do," Arthur said, ready to pull up his sleeve. Another first.

God, this man would die for him. Merlin shook his head. "I would kill you my noble friend in my current state, because you can't stop me from drinking. I would drain you to the very last drop." Shame barely broke through his thirst, as he licked his lower lip, teasing the tip of his fangs with his tongue. "There is blood in the freezer," Merlin whispered.

On his way to the kitchen Arthur almost tripped over his own feet. The artificial glow of the freezer light illuminated his silhouette that was wrapped in a cloud of condensation. Merlin's vision blurred. The next thing he knew, Arthur was shoving a bag of blood into his face. Every instinct in his undead body screamed to drag Arthur down and suck him dry. God, he smelled delicious, the warmth emanating from his body was more than tempting. Compared to his friend the packaged blood smelled like garbage.

Merlin tried to lift his arms. Due to the loss of blood his limbs disobeyed him. Humiliation paired with relief burned in Merlin's chest.

"Sorry, you have to feed me."

Raising one eyebrow, Arthur took the bag of blood, twisted the cap, and placed the nozzle in Merlin's mouth. Starving, Merlin closed his lips over it and also Arthur's fingers and sucked greedily. At the first burst of blood on his tongue, his hands shot up and he grabbed Arthur's wrists like a lifeline, forcing him into a half crouch as he swallowed. Merlin felt the energy flooding back into his body, counteracting the paralyses caused by the immense loss of blood. He didn't realize he was still sucking Arthur's fingers until the blond tried to pull his hand out of the crushing grip.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered, releasing his friend as his sanity returned.

Arthur sat back on his heels. He looked at his hands, unable to meet Merlin's gaze.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" he asked before clenching his jaw, still not looking at the vampire.

Merlin sat up slowly and tugged the ruined vest and shirt out of the way to watch his wound closing. The torn skin changed its color from black to pink and finally white. The scar was barely visible and would have disappeared in a few hours.

"Obviously someone wanted me dead."

"Care to elaborate?" Arthur kept digging.

"I got stabbed by one of your father's man. One of those useless vampire hunters." Merlin made a dismissive gesture.

"How in the world did he know you were a ..."

Arthur trailed off, the unspoken word hanging in the air like the sword of Damocles. To this day, Arthur had never uttered the word vampire in Merlin's presence. Merlin couldn't tell if it was denial or fear that kept him from saying it. Either way, it hurt.

"I bit him."

Arthur's brows shot up to his hairline. "I beg your pardon. You did what? But you told me you don't bite people."

"Well, in his case ... He asked me to," Merlin clarified. Trying not to be insulted as Arthur leaned away from him. Because he didn't want Arthur to see the hurt look on his face, Merlin climbed to his feet, holding on to the wall to keep himself upright. His head swam.

Arthur remained kneeling in front of him. His hands were on his knees. It shouldn't have been sexy, but damn if he didn't look like a servant, his blond unruly hair tickling his forehead, his full lips slightly parted. If he wanted he could unbutton the fly of Merlin's trousers, slide his fingers into the crease of Merlin's boxers and wrap those sinful lips around his...

Merlin shook his head, banishing the bloodlust. Arthur wasn't interested in Merlin sexually, and the vampire decided not to act on his silly crush. He was relieved when Arthur finally stood and walked into the kitchen to toss the empty blood bag into the bin and wash his hands. Any distance he put between them was a blessing.

"Why in the world would anyone ask to be bitten?" Arthur tried to sound curious. Only, the tension in his shoulders betrayed his disgust.

"Because it feels good," Merlin offered.

Arthur gave him a skeptical look in return. "Seriously?"

Merlin snorted, "Dear friend, you are doing a helluva job making me feel like a monster. But then thinking about how easy it had been to tear this asshole apart, I probably deserve to feel like one."

"You could have enchanted him," Arthur suggested.

"Nope. Not with the amount of vervain in his system. I could smell the stank of it. Unfortunately, too late."

Arthur dropped the dish towel next too the sink.

"I don't get it. How could being bitten something worth craving for?"

Merlin sighed. Was he really about to have the vampire equivalent of "the talk" with his oblivious flatmate? Merlin approached Arthur. The moment their eyes locked, the vampire knew that, yes, that was exactly what he was going to do. To be continued...

#colin morgan #bradley james #arthur pendragon #merthur au #merlin au #vampires #missing merlin #merlin forever #merthur fanfic #rated r #my manips #my edits #digitalart #coverart

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chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang · 3 months ago

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“Corpse Groom” (Viago x reader)

Word Count: 1,128 words (sorry that it’s short)

Age restriction: 16+ (improper language)

Tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, a bit of crack (?).

Synopsis: You are paying the toll, for your reckless handling of your relationship with Viago

Author’s note: This is my first fic, so I’m open to constructive criticism!

Part two is here!

_____________________________________________

“Why am I here again?” You said, as two of your boyfriend’s roommates led you up the creaking stairs of their house.

“Silence, mortal.” Vladislav hissed out.

“You know my name, don’t call me ‘mortal’. That’s like if I called you just ‘undead’.” You followed them into a room that you hadn’t seen previously. It had crimson wallpapers with golden ornaments all over them and four portraits of the house residents: Viago, Vlad, Deacon and Petyr.

“We have no more respect for you, mortal. Not after your terrible crime. Sit down.” He pointed at the armchair, that was the only piece of furniture in the room, aside from a wooden podium, like one you’d use at debates.

“Seriously, guys, I don’t think we should be-“ You started, but got cut off.

“Silence!” Deacon yelled, already getting heated. “Let us begin the hearing.”

“The mortal, [full name]-“

“How do you know my full name?”

“Doesn’t matter. You are summoned here, by the vampiric council of Wellington, for crimes against our roommate Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg. You are accused of breaking his cold dead heart.” Vlad said in all seriousness. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

There was a long pause, as you collected your thoughts. It was hard to focus, when you are stared down by two very angry vampires. For the first time in a while, you felt unsafe with Viago’s friends.

“I have to say… that my and Viago’s personal life is not your concern. We can work with our own relationship, without outside… ‘help’.” You let out hesitantly.

“So, you’re not denying the allegations?” Deacon gripped the edges of the wooden podium.

“What I’m saying is you should stay out of our business. I don’t think Viago would like it either.”

“We can’t stay out of this. Thanks to you, our eternity is now more miserable than usual. You know how annoying it is to live in a house with a mopey vampire? It’s no joke, you’ve made all of us suffer and now, we will pay you back.” The Romanian man took a menacing step forward, making you lean a bit more into the chair.

“For your crimes against our peaceful domestic environment, you are…” Deacon took a dramatic pause. “Banished from our house and you cannot see or talk to Viago for the next hundred years!” He didn’t have a judge’s hammer, so he just put his fist on the platform instead.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes widened. “In a hundred years I’ll be dead!”

“You don’t know that for sure.” Vlad shrugged.

“There’s no fucking way I’m living ‘till 132.”

“Even better.” Deacon stated. “Case closed. Shoo, human! Shoo!”

“What if I don’t?”

Both vampires started hissing loudly showing off the razor sharp fangs.

“Okay, got it…” You stood up and quickly left the house, mentally scolding your own cowardice.

‘Did it really affect him that much?’ You thought, as memories of your last interaction with Viago flooded back in.

Two weeks ago… Second of March…

You laid on the couch in pyjamas, with your arms tightly wrapped around a certain vampire, who was dressed in your shirt and pyjama pants. It was pretty late, around midnight, and you felt herself starting to drift into sleep, especially since the movie you guys were watching was boring as hell. Fucking “Mamma Mia!”. Though, Viago seemed to be highly invested in the plot, until he felt your grip on him gradually loosen.

“Lieben, you’re asleep?” He asked quietly, so that if you’re actually sleeping, he wouldn’t wake you up.

“Not yet…” You yawned and nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.

“If you want to sleep, I can go. You have work tomorrow, right?” He turned around to face you.

“No, no… it’s okay. Let’s finish watching the movie.” You rubbed your eyes and tried to be more present.

“Okay.” He smiled and gladly turned back to the screen. ‘Take a chance on me! That's all I ask of you, honey’ sounded from the speakers of the old TV. “Soon we’ll get married like Sophie and Sky. I’ll turn you and we’ll have the whole eternity just for the two of us.” He whispered over the music.

“Oh… really?” Shit, you didn’t mean it to sound so offensive. Sleepiness was taking a toll on your sense of tact.

“Don’t you want to?” Viago turned to look at you, frankly surprised.

You really wanted to lie. You really wanted to tell him, that you’ll gladly marry him and spend the rest of your long ass existence together, but… you couldn’t. That’s not who you were and leading him on would be cruel. It was the time to break the news.

“Viago, I really love you, but… The prospect of eternal life doesn’t really amuse me. I don’t want to be turned into a vampire…”

He fidgeted nervously. “Oh… That’s… That’s okay. You don’t have to be turned into a vampire to marry me. We can still live the way we do…”

“And how would that work? I mean, I would grow old and frail and morbid. I’ll start forgetting things and… deteriorate. Would you really want to see that? Because I wouldn’t want to be like this in front of you. You, who will remain just as young and beautiful as you are now…”

Suddenly, nobody was paying attention to ABBA anymore.

“Then why are you with me?…” He wondered out loud. “Will you just be with me for a while, then leave to find someone human?”

Viago’s brows furrowed in a grimace of panic and discomfort as he fidgeted with the collar of your pyjama shirt on his neck.

“No! No… I-I… I don’t know. I was hoping I’ll figure out where we’re going with this, but I just found myself burying those thoughts so deep in me, that I stopped thinking about it at all. I want to be in the present. I want to be with you right here and right now, not in the future… I-… Please tell me you understand.” You gently cupped his hands in yours, tracing circles into them.

Once again, Viago learned the hard way, that humans belong with other humans. Not with him. He was suffocating you, taking away your precious time that you have so little of. The time, that you’d better spend on someone else. This led nowhere. He had to let you go.

He looked down at your hands and choked out a quiet: “I understand.” before turning into a bat and flying out the window, without even returning your clothes.

The same clothes you now saw lying torn up in the garden, outside Viago’s window, that was closed with embroidered curtains. You sighed heavily.

What a mess…

#viago von dorna schmarten scheden heimburg #viago x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #viago wwdits #angst #fanfic #wwdits fanfic

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rielzero · 9 months ago

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Dissociative Amnesia and what it does (Yes this post is also about Astarion)

TRIGGER WARNING: I discuss how Trauma affects your memory and my experience with it.

This post is specifically about amnesia surrounding the self, there is a variant to this type of amnesia that erases the access to a bad memory or collection of memories itself. A quick google search will tell you;

Dissociative amnesia involves not being able to recall information about oneself (not normal forgetting). This amnesia is usually related to a traumatic or stressful event and may be: localized – unable to remember an event or period of time (most common type)

Hi! I have CPTSD, and as a result of a lot of life events I experienced, I have dissociative amnesia. I wrote in detail about my experience with bad memory in a much older post: This one here. I recommend you read it as I'll skip over some things explained in more detail there.

In DND lore, Elves use meditation to recall memories of oneself, they do not require sleep and have different physiology when it comes to rest. Spiritual physiology counts here too, since Elves reincarnate. This lore is explained better on the forgotten realms wiki.

I've seen a lot of posts going over Astarion's line when you ask him about himself after the vampire reveal.. Instead of the magistrate thing he will mention that 200 years of torture leave little to remember.

Now, this- as someone who has cptsd is a thing I recognize very well. If you take in consideration that elves at a certain point meditate memories of their years and eventually past lives- when next you are being tortured and disconnected from your past lives by becoming undead, your most recent memories will be those decades and decades just torture. When you are in a place of misery- you will lose connection to good memories, or distant memories. The worse something is, the more precedent that memory becomes- It's a survival thing. ''This is the bad thing, we must avoid'' and you might relive it at random, without knowing why exactly. Astarion says so himself. What's 39 elf years vs 200 years of being undead and put through pure hell? (Still unclear on what Astarion's actual age is, but I'm not going into that, I had another post for this.)

Please know: This does not mean you have permanent memory loss- you lose attachment and association to good memories. One day can be a nightmare, but something good could also have happened that same week. When you're traumatized by repeated events unfortunately the repetitive ''bad thing'' will be prioritized by your survival instinct and shock you more if you are continuously exposed to it in a dangerous environment. The longer you are in an unsafe environment, the more your association to good things becomes detached. You develop coping mechanisms and behaviors, avoidance, bias. We see this in Astarion and how he treats the player when they meet. He's in a situation he feels incredibly unfamiliar with- so he falls back on daggers and threats. Manipulative charm comes afterwards. His coping mechanisms of course, have been discussed in more detail by others on this platform. Now to the memory thing; from my own experience with randomly remembering stuff once I got out of the ''unsafe'' environment for a long time, once your body feels settled or secure.. Things just come back. Either its a nightmare flashback that you need to process slowly, because you haven't had time for it while you felt unsafe, or it can be the ''good'' or the ''normal'' memories too.

I personally headcanon and believe- that 200 years alone of torture don't necessarily erase ''39'' years of something else. I have been in ''unsafe'' environment for most of my life, since I was a kid. Once I hit 21, when I finally felt safe things just started popping up in my head. Both bad and good. I might not be an immortal long living creature, but I am still having random memories flood back these days.

It's very alienating at times to see your old self through that lens that you often don't recognize that person as someone that was you. Simply because you've outgrown it or you've matured. Your brain has distanced you from it because there was no space to even think of it.

I still experience horrible short term memory and frequent recollective ability malfunction. (Basically I struggle with routines or storing information I have not been able to process thoroughly.) Memory loss happens to me all the time and it is more inconvenient to me than it is to anyone who's annoyed by it..

Now imagine either ending route of Astarion, (Wether spawn or ascended) finally settling down in a place of peace, and he goes and meditates. Sometimes he dreams of torture again, and eventually after a while.. He remembers his parents, he remembers an old friend.. He remembers being bullied at school, he remembers a lover he cheated on.. He just starts remembering his life before the torture. Just bit by bit- very small things. And it's like.. It feels like A completely different person to him.

That's what it was like for me. Sometimes out of nowhere, I will recall something I said, or did in my youth. Something outside of the shitty things I went through. And sometimes I'll remember things that were done to me and realize.. That was wrong, and someone should've said something about it. Sometimes I'll remember something incredibly cringe I did as a kid and just cringe about it again. Eugh. I don't always remember the trauma and only the trauma. I'd remember things outside of it too, just not as frequent.

CPTSD doesn't always ''trigger'' your brain might not associate the memories with anything. They just pop up casually like ''hi! I exist! U feel safe?? WELL NOW-'' It's annoying and distressing sometimes.

Even the color or shape of something might just quietly nudge your mind.. ''Oh hey here's this image'' there's not always telling were it comes from. It might just happen, because.

And it takes time to heal too, remembering is a part of healing. Remembering your past both good and bad. Some people don't heal from it though, and instead dive deeper and deeper into the misery. They feel more unsafe than they did before.

#bg3 astarion #astarion #ascended astarion #dissociative amnesia #dissociative amnesia does not mean you have DID #folks with DID usually have it though #amnesia and bad memory is a result of CPTSD amongst other things #brain not braining it happens #queue #queued post

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nothisis-ridiculous · 9 months ago

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XIII

Set years after the end of Baldur's Gate 3, Astarion and Tav meet by chance after years apart. This story follows their meetings every year, on the anniversary of the start of their adventures.

IV-

Tav's finger glided over the smooth glass in her hand; the pads of her finger stopped once she touched the condensation on the glass. Deciding to drink the liquid before it got much warmer, she downed the glass in one long sweep.

"Is it my company, or is drinking becoming a new vice of yours?" Astarion teased as he took the seat opposite her.

His crimson eyes followed the silk tablecloth to the carnation in a vase at the center of the table, the clear liquid within it reflecting the golden candlelight. They traveled up to meet her eyes with a flash of a genuine smile and pointed fangs. Tav felt her smile return to him without her heeding. The coil in her gut tightened as the heat roaring across her face was not from the wine alone.

"I'm afraid you get the sober Tav this time," she set the glass down carefully and took the chance to look away from him, "and the less… randy version as well."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned in, "Darling, don't you dare roll over now," Astarion retreated with a glint in his eyes, "unless it's on top of sheets. Yours or mine."

"Incorrigible," she replied peevishly, though the corner of her mouth tilted.

"We don't have to stay here," his voice dipped into that dangerous octave, "we cou-"

That 'smelly' Orc appeared behind him, pulling the spawn's attention from his flirting as he debated with the server over wines. Tav sat back and observed Astarion's animated conversation. He was so confident that he did not even glance at the price menu as he quizzed the Orc about the best or newest vintages on the scene. The vampire fit in so well with the aristocratic crowd- well, except for his tattered and worn clothing. This brown and white doublet had seen far many better days, and she recognized a couple of the ground in stains: blood from her rescue in the sewer and the telltale rust-colored stain from the stucco roofing of Razmith's tower. On further reflection, she recalled seeing that doublet since the little reunion Withers had thrown them. Tav would gladly supply him with new clothes if she didn't predict his temper at the offer. Like the new cream-colored satin halter top number she wore now, she excused the neckline that plunged to her navel as a fashion statement, not an attention grabber for a particular undead.

"She'll have another glass of whatever she is drinking," Astarion boldly ordered her another glass, "and I'll have the Tavern of the Garden Wine, and I mean wine. Not whatever other vintage you usually serve me."

"One glass of Tavern and one glass of Undermountain Alurlyath," the Orc chuckled, "and food for the lady?"

"Smoked Salmon with wild berries, please."

"The usual changes," the Orc asked in a too-familiar tone.

"The usual would be wonderful," she returned with a smile. Ignoring Astarion's knowing smirk.

Astarion caught the Orc's arm before he left the table, "don't forget a slice of Devil Deal's cake." His toothy grin swiveled back to her with a victorious grin, "What it is your birthday."

"How… chivalrous."

He made a sour face, "Don't ruin my fun. It might just put me out of the mood to give you a present."

Her black eyebrow raised, but she played along, "However shall I regain your favor!"

Astarion grinned like a cat, "I could think of a few surefire ways, but I don't want you to bother me about it any longer," he took out a small box wrapped in a red ribbon and slid it in front of Tav.

The tears threatened her eyes before she managed to touch the box, as her fingers gently grasped the thing as if it might crumble from the gentlest pressure. Today, she would allow her tears to fall; it was a special day, and she could cry if she wanted. The pad of her finger delicately touched the ribbon, but her eyes wandered up to her companion, her voice a mere whisper, "Is this mine?"

He gave her a half-assed snarl, "Yes, you were always wearing that ratty thing," his lips thinned, "but open the damned present; I don't want everyone to see you cry. It's embarrassing."

Tav tucked her head in, then proceeded to open the paper box after carefully winding the crimson ribbon around her wrist.

"Some vagabond took off with your earring," he interrupted before she got a glance at the contents within, "so I found another one. If it doesn't match, throw it or hawk it- it doesn't matter to me."

This time her head shook with a cocked smile, unsure if it was wise of her to think he didn't mean half of what he implied. But that was half the problem in of itself; his course tone aligned with the biting words. Part of her wanted to bend over to make them stop, the other just to cower and turn inward so they would go away sooner. Leaving her with a taste of bile, where she knew she should find the taste sweet. Tav shook her head to dislodge the thoughts once again; she had a present to open after all.

For the second time, she was tearing up. Nestled against a plush backdrop was a lapis earring that matched the stolen mate she had taken from her mother's dusty jewelry box a lifetime ago in a mad dash to leave her father's home. He had an impeccable memory for the detail of her missing piece, which tipped her tears into brimming over. Astarion's body moved into action, cascading over the table to cup her cheek and flick her tears away with his calloused thumb before it could completely smudge the kohl under her eyes. Heedlessly, her face nestled into his palm, undoing all his work not to smear her makeup.

The smell of smoke entered her nostrils.

Astarion's arm retreated as he cursed and flailed.

In a manner of divine timing, the orcish server rounded the corner and rushed forward with the bucket holding their wine bottles. With one hand, he placed both bottles on the table, and with the other, he shoved the vampire's elbow into the ice and dosed the flame.

"Unhand me brute!" Astarion demanded with no shame.

Tav chortled loudly, happy tears now streaming over her cheeks. Her hand rested on her belly as she attempted valiantly to control her laughter.

His red eyes shot daggers at her as he resumed control of his arms, but his gaze turned back to their server, and his gaze softened as his mouth resumed a neutral position. "Thank you, that was very helpful, unlike one of some of us," he muttered the last part under his breath.

The Orc let out a soft laugh, which for him still carried over half the restaurant, "the bottles are on the house; please enjoy," he made short work of pouring both of their glasses before retreating away again.

Tav still wiped at her eyes with an upward angle, her face red from the force of her laughter.

"You look horrid," the spawn snapped as he surveyed the damage. His entire right elbow had been burnt away as his pale skin shone out in a large swathe at his joint. He picked and tore off the ashy bits of his clothing with a fierce frown, fretting at the garment until he had eliminated each burnt and melted bit of cloth and leather.

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't need your help," he hissed.

Tav nodded glumly and began to swipe at her face using the dark window as a mirror. At least this way, she didn't have to see the vampire who was likely fuming at her. It gave her pride a chance to recover and face him again as she was back in some order. It was also the opportunity she needed to swap out her earrings for the lapis studs that finally had returned to a matching pair.

"I'm sorry," Tav offered him softly.

"Darling, I can tell you still wish to laugh," he let out a long exhale, "so apologies not accepted or needed."

She allowed the silence to move in between them, only broken by the minute sounds associated with them drinking from their glasses. Until Tav's attention was drawn to Astarion pulling something from his pack, a familiar flask that he tipped into his second glass of wine. His eyes trained on her ears for a moment longer, the corners of his mouth stretching.

Astarion released a smile, "I am in need of sustenance too; the vintages should pair well."

"Vintages? If that makes you sleep easy at night," Tav snorted gently, "But are they working?"

"Yes," he said slowly, chewing on his words, "with what supplies we have, it's difficult to make a pack of vermin agree to share."

That earned him a smirk, "nearly endless supply isn't enough? Shame."

"We're all beasts, some of us more beautiful than others," he sighed, "but enough about my favorite subject. How is your quest for Dukedom?"

"Hah, hardly a quest; it's been far more fun avoiding that role."

"Not enough perks of Office for you?"

"No, a fear of increased paperwork," she smiled from her wine glass, "the office machinations are tedious enough."

His returning smile was predatory, and he leaned in, "Anyone that needs to meet an unexpected and grisly end?"

Tav considered the offer, but her head shook. She took a cursory glance around her before she continued, "Nothing that extreme, just Duke Roseau trying to wave his power stick in my face. It's Nothing new."

The vampire leaned a little more forward and licked his lips, "this sounds personal. Can I kill him? Please. Pretty please."

She laughed, reinforcing her words with a shake of her head, "Keep it down, killer. I can handle it."

"But I could help," the spawn whined as he sipped at his concoction, "two hands make for easier work."

"It's not that big," she chuckled, amused thoroughly with her joke.

Astarion's face crossed with a bit of confusion, but he joined her chuckle.

"But before I forget again, again," Tav admitted with a guilty grin as she fished something out of her pouch. It was a carved cat; the slightly iridescent surface of the white creature glinted in the candlelight as she slid it across the table, "It should make things a little easier for you."

Astarion picked up the half-heart-shaped cat with a tilted head, "easier for what?"

Tav stared ahead at a point behind his back.

"Tav? Hellloo," his torso turned to look behind him.

There, the orcish server approached with a tiny figure compared to his massive frame. The girl-woman carefully balanced a tray and what could only be Tav's salmon and strawberries with the side of asparagus. Her big brown doe eyes looked over them with her mouth agape, and the plate toppled to the floor with a loud clatter and shattering of ivory dishes. Tav stared at the younger woman, and she stared transfixed right back.

A few seconds later, the second crash was the chair being spun out from under Tav as she leaped up.

The reverie wasn't necessary to remember the smells of strawberries and apples mixing with the aromatic spices and vanilla of the rising pie crust. The burning streaks of sunlight that branded her tan skin, and the giggling of the sweetest kind- and the little hands pressed to her cheek with a puff of flour. Before the crescendo of the little voice rose again and again until they collapsed into a pile on the threadbare and stiff couch beneath them. Sneezing and laughing until they were both out of breath and wheezing. Just as quickly, the world tilted, and the laughter was replaced with deafening cracks and groans. Rock, metal, and wood alike careened and skidded across the cobblestone streets. She curled around that little figure, letting the debris cut through her to shield her child from even a moment of pain. But they couldn't stay there as she urged them forward again. Glancing behind her to look at the strange shadow that had blotted out the sky and stretched out to take them. She shoved her child beneath the underpass with only a second to react. Screaming out for her to hide as the world was ripped away from her.

"Tav!" Astarion's tone was insistent and rising, likely not the first time he had called out to her.

"I have to-."

--- --- ---

Astarion blinked as Tav disappeared with a faint crack. Leaving him alone with the Orc and the girl whose gaze had not left the space his friend had vanished from. The Orc started issuing an immediate apology as he set to clean up the mess left behind by the dropped plate. The girl stood there, dumbfounded, her mouth still slightly open. Ignoring her partner's requests and pleas for help.

"Hells," he whined. But it had been a futile effort without someone to react to his dramatics.

His head turned to get a better look at the woman. Something about her scent was familiar, drawing his interest to inspect this person closer.

Tall but lean. A sharp nose and a pink skin tone dotted with freckles. Her dark brown eyes were surrounded by shiny black hair pulled into a low bun and the elegant curves of half-even ears decked out with several rings and piercings. If he… no. That was the answer, wasn't it? One of the final puzzle pieces in the mystery of Tav's murky past life. The woman was a clone of his companion, even down to the moisture that ran down her cheek and how she swiped it away to minimize the running of her kohl. The similarities of the composition of their blood flooded his nostrils as he placed the shared notes between mother and daughter.

"What is your name, my dear?" he mustered with as much gentleness as he could find.

Those dark orbs turned to him, finding himself being scrutinized and picked over with one look, "Sophie Blaire."

"And you are?" she returned with an even tone.

"Astarion," he wasn't sure why he gave her a bow, but he was halfway through the action before he caught it.

One of her eyebrows raised, "a vampire."

#astarion #fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #xiii

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screamingwiththewolves · 9 months ago

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Even as a kid, I thought vampirism as depicted in the SS books doesn't make sense. Every creature, human or animal, living or undead bitten by a vampire turns into one. If vampires need blood regularly and have existed for centuries the entire world population would've turned into vampires, or they would need to kill every person they feed from which wouldn't be sustainable in the long run.

In the books, vampires that live in GHOUL communities have special pipes alongside water for blood but GHOUL hasn't always existed.

I suppose that hunting animals would solve the problem, but it never made sense to me that even zombies could turn into vampires since they're already undead and don't even have any blood to drink.

yeah, admittedly vampirisms being transmitted by just a bite was never my favorite trope. It can certainly make sense in some stories/plots, like when vampirism is treated like an illness. But when Vampires are treated as a species it doesn't make much sense in my opinion. Same logic with werewolves. The only story I've seen that treats werewolf's like a species, and still gets away with the bite thing, is Wolfwalkers. and that's because it does such a great job of showing that the lycanthropy of that film, is a gift to be bestowed, or a curse to enemies. So it works.

That all being said, I can also appreciate the silliness of vampirisms being transmitted to any creature via just a bite. In the case of the Scream Street books, it creates a situation that is just absurd. But, like, in an enjoyable way? Like it's over the top, camp, chaotic, ridiculous. It's like a tart cherry pie. Usually, I don't like cherry pie because it's so tart. But sometimes I crave a cherry pie specifically for the tartness. You get what I mean?

I guess if you wanted to have your cake and eat it to, one could theorize that such easy vampirism is specifically something of the Negative lineage. Maybe their bites transform others into vampiric minions, where as with most vampires that's not an issue. Maybe that's why their last name is "Negative" because their bites come with "negative" effects. Could even be a reason Resus's ancestor helped found Scream Street. He may have felt that doing such would keep their mutation from causing more harm. (could also be why he stays in a hibernation mode rather than enjoying his undead existence.)

Or, second theory, it could be that it's due to something that Ghoul did to the vampires in their facilities, like experimentation or adding something to the blood supply. They've certainly done far worse. Heck, maybe the thing about the supply coming from the drains of the world is a lie to began with. Making a supplement certainly sounds easier than a complex blood gathering system. After all, if the vampires thought that the blood supply was from a pipe system, when they'd be fully dependent on the Scream Street facilities. And we all know how much Ghoul loves anything that gives them more power over the cryptids. Furthermore, I'd make sense if they were particularly controlling of vampires, as vampires are a more threatening creature, they have a lot of powers. We don't see the Negatives have a lot of powers, but I'm willing to bet that's because they were raised in Scream Street. They've been denied a lot of things, and likely don't know the full extent of their powers.

Idk, just some theories that came to mind while thinking about all of this. (screw Ghoul, they are awful people) :D

#scream street bbc #scream street books #luke watson #Cleo Farr #resus negative

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thebridgetonarnia · 2 years ago

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we can all blame @blvckwidow for this steddieXspn crossover

the year is 2008, sam and dean are investigating a vampire coven in a normal town in indiana.

steddie and ronance own a duplex together, they do this bc steve and robin are codependent like that, they even have a door on the insides that connect the homes and all four of them will walk in to the others homes whenever they want.

eddie is a famous but only in metal circles musician, steve is an elementary teacher, robin is an interpreter, and nancy is crime journalist.

nancy in her research has been seeing a lot of weird shit happening in their town, weird bodies with weird gnarly wounds on them. it rings alarm bells in her head screaming "demagorgon!" over and over again.

she approaches robin first, "something weird is happening, and i might be crazy bc el said the gates were 100% closed, i even called her to double check, but these bodies are not normal and my gut is telling me something is wrong."

robin immediately believes nancy, they read in the boys and make a game plan.

nancy says that everything seems localized to one area of the town, so they investigate together during the day on the weekend.

in their investigation they run into same and dean. who look at this group of 40-something year olds, with a nail studded bat, a sawed off shotgun, a... sword? and immediately assume theyre hunters.

the lady with the shotgun stands in front of the group, "who the hell are you?" the pretty one chokes up on the bat preparing to swing, taking a protective stance in front of the other two.

"hey hey hey hey hey hold up lady, we're on the same side we're hunters too! We're lookin for the vamps!"

"Vamps? as in vampires? as in undead creatures of the night who suck your blood?" the other woman starts babbling.

sam and dean are immediately confused. but blah blah blah more dialogue and exposition, long story short they end up at a dive bar to discuss whats happening in the town. (brief interlude of steve absolutely FREAKING OUT over the impala)

the fruity four immediately want to help kill the vamps, sam and dean are hesitant to let a bunch of rookies on the scene, but robin says something about this not being their first rodeo and nancy and steve are kind of scary so they relent.

the entire time, dean keeps looking at eddie, like he knows him, like he's trying to place him, it's not until they're all deep in the vampire nest that he sees eddie swing the sword recklessly that he realizes that that's eddie freaking munson but dean cant freak out about bc a vampire is on his ass.

it was probably the fastest that sam and dean ever dispatched of a vampire nest. no one was seriously hurt and all the vamps were dead.

the fruity four invite sam and dean over their house where they realize that its not steve&robin and eddie&nancy, but steve&eddie and robin&nancy

dean watches the couples a lot closer after that, something deep and buried is clawing its way out, thoughts of a trench coat and a gravelly voice flit through his mind.

eddie and steve give dean a knowing look, something that made him feel more seen than he has ever felt in all his years on this earth. he looks away from them, unable to cope with being bared open by virtual strangers.

the six of them chat, they offer sam and dean a room to sleep in, "the kids usually stay in those rooms, but they havent been buy in a while so it should be fine for you guys, we've got plenty of space, and better water pressure than whatever shitty motel your staying at"

from then on, steve and robin check in with the boys at least once a week, to make sure theyre doing okay. sam and dean always stop by if they're passing through the area, nancy creates a network for hunters, eventually opening her own bar (like the roadhouse)

when the apocalypse begins for real for real, the fruity four plus a tiny army of seemingly normal people show up to fight alongside sam and dean. including a woman who can move things with her mind, without demon blood.

#stranger things #supernatural #crossover #sab writes #this got away from me #steddie #ronance #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #sam winchester #dean winchester

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jamandsteaksandwitch · 7 months ago

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This is a story based off of a game of Warhammer AoS, where I rushed in my VLoZD and got a lot of wizards killed:

As Karazai the scarred looked off at the approaching armies, he felt there was something wrong with the winds of magic this day. While not nearly in tune with the winds as his brother is, even he could tell something was wrong.

"Many things are wrong, this is merely a distraction, likely meant as an intimidation strategy from the foe." he thought to himself, as he observed those he was preparing to fight along side. While the usual armies of the Stormcast Eternals gathered around him, Orruks from the nearby badlands had also arrived to stand against the oncoming tide of undead, as well as the followers of Nurgle. Strange times made for strange allies indeed. He quickly banished the thoughts from his mind, however, as he saw another dragon surge towards, him, its rotten body pulsing and strengthened by necromantic might. Riding atop of it, a veiled woman, in a bloodstained wedding gown.

"Finally, some entertainment!" He thought, as he rushed to meet the undead monster in melee combat. The two dragons exchanged breaths as they grew close to one another, and beneath them, Karazai could hear the roars of battle, as the two opposing armies charged into one another. So enthralled by this sight, he almost missed Neferata charging through her trademark dark mists atop Nagadron. Almost. As fast as he was, however, and with two monstrous combatants bearing down on him, he was still the superior combatant. These fools, having neither the experience nor raw prowess to slay him here and now.

So why defend?

Taking advantage of an opening made by the sordid dragon, Karazai demonstrated why his deeds were legendary amongst those who have fought in Ghur, and ripped the vampire atop the dragon to shreds, and even managed to get a powerful hit against Neferata as well. He took a moment to admire his handiwork as the zombified dragon plummeted towrads the ground.

And a moment was all he was given, as the death of the vampire began a chain reaction that not even the great Son of Dracothian could have foreseen: The necromantic energies within the dragon erupted, creating a massive magical explosion, devestating the battlelines fighting below, and managing to injure Karazai himself. The chaos did not end there. Neferata, weakened already by her brief combat with the mighty dragon, was torn asunder, and quickly she too exploded in a plume of magical hellfire. And so too did the wizards brought fourth by the Orruks, the Stormcast eternals, and the remaining necromancers skulking around the battlelines of the undead, each and every one, torn apart by a magical explosion, each one unleashing one upon their demise. As the chain reaction stopped, Karazai looked around the battlefield, confused. Never had he seen anything quite like this, never did he wish to see it again. The armies of the undead had been entirely wiped out, as well as significant portions of the Orruk and Stormcast forces. What remained of Nurgles forces on the Ghurish plain had turned tail and begain to flee. Sensing no reason to stay here, the remaining Stormcast forces turned to return to Azyr, as the remaining Orruks pursued the fleeing Nurglites. There would be no great battle fought here today, only the scars and remnants of foolishness.

#writing #creative writing #age of sigmar #warhammer #fantasy #Karazai #battle

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love-on-mars · 1 year ago

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I know this is a silly request but I need a Mick Mars x reader where they pretend to be vampires! Please it would be so cute. And the reader can even do Mick’s makeup before one of his shows and they can just be so fun and lovey! Ahh I just need vampire Mick! (If you can can you make it Shout At The Devil era Mick) thank you!

I’m so sorry this took so long! I just finished my senior year of HS so I’ve been busy, but now I’ll have more time to write! I really hope I did this right, enjoy!

Warnings: none, just fluff

Alien? No, Vampire.

Halloween night, a usually chaotic one filled to the brim with skimpy outfits, copious amounts of fake blood, excessive drinking and constant sugar highs. Add all of that with a Motley Crue concert and you’ve got yourself one hell of a night.

You lived for Halloween, dressing up every year and having the time of your life. This year brought something new to add to it, your alien rockstar boyfriend Mick Mars.

Usually Mick always grumbled when you pulled him into things, but it just so happens he loves Halloween too…

“Soooo I had an idea…..” you walked up to Mick slowly as he prepared to go to the venue for the concert. “Oh no, you? Thinking? What an awful idea!” He snickered as you hit his arm playfully. “I was thinking, since you and I both love horror movies and tonight is Halloween…you and I could dress up for the concert? I have costumes already picked out!” You say while you grab the vampire costumes and hold them up excitedly.

Mick stared at them for a minute and smirked, “Vampire costumes?” He laughed. “Yes! You’ve always given off undead bloodsucker vibes!”

“Alright” he smiled, loving your enthusiasm towards not only the holiday, but also himself.

Sitting backstage, you sit in Micks lap doing his makeup. You almost finish when Doc McGee knocks and opens the door.

“Mick? Why are you wearing that? The show will start soon!” He questions, pointing towards the Shout at the devil attire. “It’s Halloween, Doc” he dryly replied in typical Mars fashion, making you giggle.

Doc sighed, “you’ll look out of place, but I can’t stop you. As long as you put on a great show I don’t care.” He says as he leaves. “You hear that? You’ll be the focus tonight instead of the others” you say as you dismount his lap, showing him the pale and bloody makeup you applied.

Mick didn’t respond to your comment, only stating “it looks great, love”. You take out a small case and glue on the fake fangs for him. He looks at you and gives a ‘Mars face’ while going for your neck.

“Don’t ruin the look before the show!” You laugh, lightly pushing him away. “But I want to suck your blood!” He exclaimed, doing an awful Dracula impression.

“Mars! You’re on in ten!” A voice boomed from outside. You look at him, “go get ‘em Marsman”. He nods and heads out, while you smile mischievously as you go to your bag to put on your costume and makeup.

After the show, Mick ran back to the dressing room. “Hey where we’re you? Everyone loved it! The guys thought it was hilarious, said it was the most ‘Mars’ thing they’ve seen in a while.” He looked around to a darkened room, he then felt two hands wrap around him. “Mwahaha!” You laugh out, “your mine now, Mars!”.

Mick spun around, marveling at your costume. It was more revealing as opposed to his, which was more traditional. “Mmm sexy vampire doll…” he cheekily mumbled out, placing his hands on your hips. Kissing your cheek he holds you close as he moves down to your neck, leaving little loves bites before sucking on it hard.

“Mick! You’re so silly!” You laugh as he pretends to suck your blood. He stops and looks up at you, smiling. “What can I say? Vamps gotta feed.” He smiles.

You both head home, and binge watch horrors movies whilst Intaking a very unhealthy amount of candy. Eventually you fall asleep against Mick, he picked you up and brought you into bed. Deciding against undressing you and removing your makeup for giggles, he lays down next to you after changing his clothes. He whispers softly, “Goodnight my sweet vampire, these nights will never get old.”

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disinfernus · 11 months ago

Text

Teamwork Makes the Interrogation Work

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Edge of Wormwoods PARTIES: Dis and Zofia SUMMARY: What happens when a lampade and a vampire go after the same target? They work together to get answers and rid the world of one less hunter. WARNINGS: Mental manipulation occurs as well as some stabbing.

This one seemed promising, but Dīs grew weary. The year was almost over and they hadn’t gotten much closer to figuring out what happened to their aos sí, a frustrating reality. But they were keen to keep up with this one, at least — maybe make it one last good interrogation before the new year. Or maybe they’d get something good.

They remained largely undetected, keen on keeping themselves out of view until the very last moment — until she showed up. Where had she come from? Had she been tailing this man the whole time? Wherever she came from, she seemed to have the upper hand, so much so that the nymph couldn’t help but to break from their safety blanket and make themself known.

“Wait–” they commanded, pleading, as they became visible once more, glamour taking over instead of their usual immense self. “I need him alive.” Please. Their tone indicated more, but they didn’t exactly have ‘converse about your family drama’ on their agenda for that night.

Several faces had leered down at her in the four months she’d been hidden away. This one certainly hadn’t been the worst offender. Not that that mattered. Being the least worst of her captors didn’t earn the hunter any leniency.

Zofia had been stalking him from a distance through town for what felt like hours. And then he’d made the foolish decision to venture a little ways out of town, toward the woods. She prowled, just far enough away to evade his notice. He might have been able to sense the presence of the undead, but in a town full of them pinning down her location would be like finding a needle in a haystack. She stopped, and watched, and waited- ignoring the fact that every fiber of her being screamed at her to lunge and end it quickly. But she’d only killed the first one quickly so she could escape. The rest? She’d allow herself to enjoy the rest. The moment of silence stretched out into the dark night like a silvery thread.

And then, the thread snapped.

Lunging into action, Zofia threw herself at the young hunter like a caged beast set free. The two went tumbling across the ground before she threw all her weight on top of him, pinning them down. “Gotcha,” She purred, sounding all too pleased with herself. Reaching into their pocket, she fished out a stake first, clicking her tongue. “You won’t be needing this, kochanie.” She threw it far out of his reach before pulling out a blade and resting it against the pretty vein in his neck that fluttered as his heartbeat rose in panic.

Wait-

The vampire’s eyes darted up and her gaze locked on a stranger. Her lip curled up in a snarl, trying to assess whether or not this was going to become a more complicated fight than she’d anticipated. “You had better give me good reason to keep him breathing, and quickly.”

With the knife already kissing the man's neck, their chances of getting what they came for dwindled rapidly. They didn't know her, they'd never seen her before, so what was the perfect combination of words to get her to stand down? Or the perfect combination to ruin it all by spreading his blood across the ground.

Dīs supposed that honesty was the best policy, at least in this instance. They could keep details close to their chest, but maybe a tale of woe and loss was enough to sway her mind otherwise. Their golden eyes showed vividly in the dark, their travel from knife to her face evident. Yes they were scared that this could be it. Who knew when they'd get another whiff of retribution?

The lampade held up both hands, choosing to remain at their spot instead of encroaching further. “He knows someone who was involved in my.. family's death. I need answers.” They nodded to the hunter. “You can kill him after, I don't care.”

Desperate hands scratched and closed at the arm she had pressed into them, holding them in place. It was tiresome.

They said not to kill them yet. They hadn’t said not to hurt them.

An agonized yowl echoed out as Zofia drove her blade into the hunters hand, being careful to avoid touching their blood. Then she noticed the eyes.

She wasn’t sure what they were, exactly. Only that they were likely fae, given the fact that they smelled sweet as honey. Zofia would have contemplated trying to get a taste if she’d been in any other situation. But the fact that they weren’t human meant they likely weren’t looking to give her friend a helping hand.

Studying the stranger with glowing eyes, she threw more of her weight into keeping the hunter pinned down. “They take from everyone.” Her voice was dull despite the rage that lit her eyes. “Get your answers. I’ll see to it he gives them.” Zofia twisted the blade further into the back of the hunter's hand, a grim sort of satisfaction curling up in the chest at the cries.

A grimace found their face at the piercing wail that escaped once the knife plunged into tender flesh. The hand was already sensitive enough when cut by accident, they couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be stabbed through the palm. But they could sort of feel it in the hunter’s yell — was he too loud? Would someone hear? Perhaps, but Dīs could disappear in a snap if their gaze failed them. It hasn’t yet, but they didn’t know what kind of crowd this ruckus would draw.

They take from everyone.

This was not the time to ask her of her own history, but they’d be lying if they said they weren’t at least a little curious. There wasn’t much there in her expression, but the way her eyes seemed to blaze with that statement, perhaps even experience, told them that maybe she wanted to make them feel what she did. She had revenge in her sights; they could respect that. But they didn’t have a lot of time to waste, though, judging by the quickness in the way she stabbed him.

Dīs’ attention faltered from the viscous woman to the man pinned beneath her, writhing and in pain thanks to the piece of metal between his metacarpals. They tilted their head just slightly, just enough so that their eye lines would match up despite his prone position on the ground. He was scared, but he still looked angry, like the wrong move could be the end for either one of them. They didn’t intend on dying that night, so they needed to make sure to keep their questions short and to the point. That should be easy. They had a name — they just needed the location.

“Your cousin. Michel — where is he? His home is empty but I know you know where he is.”

Zofia didn’t particularly care what the stranger thought of her methods of keeping the hunter incapacitated. So long as they were on the same side. Red eyes flickered up to strange glowing ones as she waited for him to begin his interrogation.

The man beneath her writhed and wriggled, looking for freedom if he could just get himself free. But the vampire kept him down to the best of her ability. “Why the fuck would I tell you wear he is?” The hunter spat, his gaze flickering to the stranger keeping watch from a distance, and the vampire who loomed over him. “I’m not telling you anything, jackass.”

Zofia clucked her tongue, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Wrong answer, kochanie.” She pulled the knife from the back of the man’s hand and repeated the process on his other one. She could feel the burn as some of his blood splashed against her hand. She twisted the knife, and ignored the pain. Glancing over her shoulder, she jerked her chin to beckon the stranger closer. “Come, come. I won’t bite you right now, I’m a bit preoccupied. It would be better if you asked your questions up close, to see if he’s lying. No?”

That was an expected reaction. An annoying one, and a complete waste of time as they all tended to give up in the end anyway — but it was expected all the same. What they didn’t expect, but probably should have, were the red eyes. Vampire. They would have guessed ‘mare’ had it not been for the preternatural display of strength. Of course she had to be a vampire. Dīs felt a weight in their stomach, like a brick falling to the sea floor; their last meeting with one ended poorly and with two new scars for their neck.

She hit him again, this time on the other hand, repeating the process and eliciting another pained cry. They would have gone slow with it, quiet, as if they weren’t even there, but she had the reigns. She was the one in charge. They just hoped the curious kept to themselves that night.

That was when she beckoned Dīs closer. A horrible idea, in their opinion, but did they have any other option? She could get tired of their hesitation and end it all then and there; she seemed the type to not waste any time. The lampade clenched their jaw. They would have to be ready if she turned on them, once she was done with the prey. If she turned on them, but her comment about not biting them right now didn’t exactly give them a lot of confidence that she wouldn’t.

Suddenly feeling like they were stuck between a rock and a hard place, they obliged and drew nearer to the vampire and wriggling man. Stubbornness could be a hard nut to crack, but they were keen to get an answer one way or another. The lampade stood beside them now and dropped slowly to one knee with their eyes fixed on the man’s twisted expression. Pain was a useful tool, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Dīs had a pleasure in messing with the mind. Humans, and many creatures, had an innate fear of the dark — of the unknown within. Paired with their ability to almost melt the reasoning and reality in their brains, even for only a few moments, was paramount to the lampade’s success. They supposed a knife just wasn’t going to cut it this time.

“Look at me,” the nymph commanded, and when he didn’t and still refused, a darkened hand jumped up to grab the sides of his face and forced his attention on them. “I said look at me,” the yellow glow in their eyes grew with intensity, overtaking the entirety of their sclera, and the shadows of their face changed and writhed, like paint bleeding in from the edge of damp paper. “Where is he?” The hunter’s eyes were now fixed on the endless light that radiated from Dīs’ skull. Michel had been gone for some time now; the driveway was empty, but his neighbors say he didn’t move. So where was he?

They seemed hesitant.

It shouldn’t have surprised Zofia, especially since she’d launched herself at the hunter like she’d never get the chance again. She rolled her eyes, jerking her chin again. “You have my word. You’re not on my agenda tonight. I might not look like it, but I can show restraint.”

As her new partner in crime approached, she removed the blade from the man’s other hand, and brought it back to rest on the column of his throat. If he got any clever ideas, it would just end that much quicker for him. She assumed that whatever magical madness the fae had at their disposal, they’d be far more useful at getting answers from a stubborn ass hunter. Hunters were likely accustomed to pain. They could suffer their way through a few encounters with a blade.

She was concerned for a moment that her mind was beginning to play tricks on her again when a shadowy hand shot out and grabbed hold of the man’s face. Whatever kind of fae this was, she was fairly certain she hadn’t encountered them before. She could see the glow of their eyes reflected on the hunter’s horrified face, and decided it would be for the best that she averted her gaze for the time being.

“I don’t know!” The hunter yelped, their eyes darting about on the strangers changing features. “I-I-I saw him the other day! The other day at the Three Daggers! I did, I swear- The Three Daggers- it’s a bar! It’s a bar in Gatlin Fields! Said he was busy working over-” His eyes widened, realizing he was saying too much.

Zofia frowned. “Keep singing, skowronek. It will be better for you if you do.”

You have my word.

On what, exactly? On not being on her agenda? On not biting them right then? Or was it her word in general? Their body buzzed with the thought of the number of possibilities. Dīs hummed, as if contemplating her motion for belief. “Alright,” they agreed with a small nod, conceding to her persuasive words. “I have your word.” They fought back the smile that threatened to break through their placid expression, instead focusing that energy on the human.

That giddy feeling continued as the hunter finally spilled forth the start of the truth they so desperately were looking for. Every lead led to the possibility of finding peace. The Three Daggers — they knew of the place, but they would be stupid to step through that threshold. That was a hunter bar, a death sentence. Despite the feeling of mental capacity melting, Dīs held on to the man’s mind, grateful for the vampire’s goad and threat for more violence.

Unfortunately for them, maybe not so much for her, their hold was, perhaps, a little too strong. Or maybe they’d had him in their sights too long. Whatever the case, incoherency filled the young hunter’s head, enabling a string of babbling and wide eyes filled with fear and emptiness. He started to thrash against the vampire, ignoring the pain in his hands; too busy with the paranoia and madness that took over.

“Damn it,” the lampade growled in frustration but stood back, being sure to keep their distance so the human could be dealt with by the one holding the knife. They’d done enough already. The madness itself might not last, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. They wasted the opportunity. “Kill him, then.. This,” they gestured to his state, “won’t last forever but he’s useless now.” The Three Daggers was going to have to be enough.

Zofia hadn’t really thought about the words leaving her mouth and who she was saying them to. After all, in that moment they were on the same side. They had both lost to the hands of men like the one beneath her blade. But when she heard them echoed back to her, she realized she may have made a mistake. She swore under her breath, and shrugged. No helping the matter now. She’d deal with whatever the consequences were later.

Then, something changed. She wasn’t sure what had happened, exactly. Whatever the slayer saw on the stranger’s face, it seemed to be too much for his mind to handle. Zofia had gone from having him relatively well pinned down, to struggling to keep the raving lunatic from hitting her as he thrashed about. She hissed as his bloody palm smacked into her arm, her skin burning at the contact.

“So much for a slow death.” Zofia grumbled, moving the blade down to the man’s chest before pressing it down into his heart. “For the other’s you’ve undoubtedly done the same to.” She muttered into the madman’s ear as he gasped at the sudden shock, clarity filling his eyes for one final moment. It wouldn’t be long now. She pulled her blade free, and stood up, watching him as the madness faded as the slayer slowly slipped away.

“Did you at least get some information to help you?” The vampire asked, not sure if she should look up at the stranger. Given the fate of the slayer, it might not be the best idea. She kept her gaze down, eyes locked on the evidence that she was one step closer to being safe again.

Slips ups were easy; they wouldn’t hold that against her. But they would have to think about what she might be able to help them with. She did help with the hunter, a happy accident unplanned by either party, but still somewhat lucrative in the end. The favor wouldn’t be terrible, not when she was willing to hear them out and wait. Just like they’d asked. They’d make sure to thank her in some way.

Dīs watched the blade go in, the sudden impact of pain and dread of death when the blade pierced flesh, meat and bone to reach the heart was striking in comparison to the madness that had just previously taken over. They saw the clarity, yes, and wondered what it was he could be thinking. Did he know he had lost all sense of mental stability? Was he still present but unable to stop it? Or had he been truly gone until his life was snuffed out? Ignorance or immobility?

The glow from their eyes eased up and the shadows on their face slithered back to where they came from. Pupils found their way back to the forefront and two irises reformed, containing the glinting gold within those shapes. They sighed, frustrated but at least they had something.

“I should.. apologize for that.” They rested their hands on their hips. “I didn’t expect him to break that quickly.” An exhale escaped them. “Somewhat. At least I know he is still in town. That gives me hope I will find him.” Dīs looked over the blood that coated the knife and the man that now laid dead. “Are you satisfied?”

She could see the glow recede in her periphery. She assumed whatever magic the fae had been wielding, it had been reversed. And she had to assume that a creature that she now owed gods only knew what to wouldn’t be so quick to see her meet a similar fate to the now motionless slayer.

She looked up at them, curious. They looked normal enough now. It was always the unassuming looking ones, wasn’t it…

“No need.” She said, trying to rub the hunter's blood from where it burned her arm. She hissed in pain at the contact. She’d need to clean that off sooner rather than later. “I’m not. He was not the strongest of his little coterie.” Zofia wiped the knife on the dead slayer’s jacket before stowing the blade away in her pocket once again.

Satisfied. She let out a puff of air that might have been considered a laugh if she could bring her face to form a smile. “He went quicker than I would have liked.” She shrugged. “But I’m better now that one more is gone.” Zofia frowned. “I am sorry for what his friend took from you. I know that pain.”

They noted her discomfort towards the blood on her arm, the way she buffed it away and how her skin burned from the contact. They’ll have to remember that for a rainy day. Their eyes narrowed just slightly when they recalled the handkerchief they kept in their coat. It was stained with their own blood, but maybe it would be of use to her.

“Do you need something for that?” It was the least they could do, and if not, it was no bother to them. At least the kindness was offered.

“How many more of them are there left?” The passing thought of perhaps there could be another connection lingered a little too long; did they really want to get involved? This one already led them to the notorious hunter bar in town, how much further did it go? Her return of kindness softened the hard expression on Dīs’ face. They nodded. “... I appreciate that.. I just wish I knew why. What was their purpose for—”

The lampade stopped themself. Now was not the time. “Your help was very much appreciated,” they might not have been able to do it without her, truthfully, but they wouldn’t admit that out loud. “I bid you good luck with the others,” they nodded towards the dead. A thought crossed over them suddenly. “What is your name? If we were to cross paths again, I’d like to know what to call you..”

It was highly likely that they would, either for the human hunt or the promise itself.

“To wash it off.” She said honestly. “It will be fine. It won’t take very long to heal.” Zofia could deal with the sting. It didn’t hurt that bad now that she’d gotten the majority off.

She shrugged at the question. “I’d tell you if I could trust I knew the answer for certain.” She couldn’t be sure that her mind hadn’t conjured up new faces in addition to the ones from her past. “One main one. A few lackeys. They won’t look for you- as long as you don’t have any ties to my dear friend here.” She nodded to the body.

“They prefer my kind.” They preferred her clan. Her kin. They likely wouldn’t think twice about some random fae, and would let another hunter deal with it. “Hunters in general, or this one?” Zofia asked, her lip curling in distaste. “This one wanted me. And what’s left of my family, if anyone remains.” She explained. “On the whole…”

The vampire sighed, considering the answer. What was the purpose? “To protect their kind from the other, I suppose.” It was the only explanation she could think of that made any sense. Otherwise it was just all for the sake of the hunt.

“Nie ma za co.” She shook her head. “And it isn’t yours to keep. But you can call me Zofia. What can I call you?”

“Alright, fair enough,” they returned with concession, though they were thankful their impromptu interrogation was coming to a close. They wanted to go home and to think about how they could get to Michel. They didn’t exactly know many who would be willing to go into the Three Daggers, at least, none that wouldn’t ping at least one hunter’s attention. No, this needed some thought.

“I’m not too worried about myself..” They should be. It was foolish not to, but they thought back to Inge. This was a dangerous place to live; their heart ached for the life they used to have, one filled with silence and darkness. The surface was too bright and full of danger. There wasn’t enough death, either, despite the walking corpses that surrounded them, that called them friends. “No, no, I had meant.. It’s nothing. Perhaps for another time. I hope there are still some of your clan left.” That was the truth. They knew what it was like to be the last one. At least, presumably.

“As we’re doing. It seems pointless.” Dīs couldn’t help the smile at her assumption. “Don’t worry, I won’t take it. It is beautiful, though. Dīs, I own the Elysium in Worm’s row — if you care to stop by.”

What must it be like, she wondered, to not have to worry about herself. To not have to look over her shoulder, constantly anticipating to look back and see someone poised to strike with a stake behind her. She envied the fae stranger in that regard.

A bitter laugh escaped the vampire's lips and hung in the night air. “I hope that you’re right.” Zofia sighed. “I hope that you are.” But she doubted she’d ever see any of them again. She was quite certain they’d all returned to ash at that point.

“That’s very kind of you.” She nodded in gratitude for the compliment. “I haven’t used it in so very long. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dīs.” Zofia hummed in contemplation. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure. I’ll have to stop by.”

Her gaze caught on the still hunter on the ground. “I don’t suppose the fae have any interesting ways of disposing of things like these?”

There was no real hope that anyone would be still left alive, but Zofia’s clan at least had the better chance. If any of theirs survived, that would be a miracle. They didn’t have much hope for them.

“Well, it suits you. It should stay around for a little while,” they suggested, slightly playfully now that the high energy of the interrogation died down. Though, they were still out in the open, despite the cover of night. The loitering couldn’t continue.

“The pleasure’s mine, despite,” Dīs looked to the same body she regarded and questioned. “Not myself, no. But I know of a few who will have use for it. I’ll take it.” It was unfortunate they couldn’t make other things turn to shadow, inanimate objects or even people, but to bathe it in so much darkness prying eyes would have a hard time making out was the next best thing.

With the body now in their possession (it would be so much easier if they were thirteen feet tall), they gave Zofia a parting bow of their head. “Until next time,” they expressed, meaning it, and knowing that they will indeed see each other again. Either in casual conversation or to cash in on that promise.

“I think it means wisdom,” she said softly. The danger had passed, her focus drifting with it. She wondered how long it would be before her mind began playing tricks on her again. Zofia shook her head. “Not entirely sure it fits.” Three hundred years and she still wasn’t certain if she could be considered wise.

She wondered just who this person knew that would have use for a dead hunter. It was probably best if she didn’t question it. Asking more questions would most likely ask for more trouble, and she had more than her fair share of trouble. “Then he’s all yours.” Zofia sighed looking down at the body. “Tak długo, suko.” She spat at the dead hunter.

She watched as they nodded their head in acknowledgement, and she tipped hers in return, the bloodstained vampire dipping into a slight curtsy. “Until then, Dīs.” She turned and disappeared back into the night. Until then.

#thread #tr; zofia k #thread; teamwork makes the interrogation work

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