#TEAM VAMPIRE SWEEP!!!!!

[axepng]

Made a vampire oc for artfight!!!!!

Also, here’s my Artfight!

I’ll try to be as active as possible this year ^^

[gavinom123]

RAAAAAAAAA ARTFIGHT ARTFIGHT

MY PROFILE

[melonkittii]

making my pinned artfight post finally!

its my 4th year of af and i am on team vampire this year >:] here are my characters up this year (SIX are new, i have been on my grind):

(some of them are pretty old but im leaving them there anyway <3)

and here is a link to my profile!

may the best team win!

(ill post some of my characters refs separately later)

[sir-buddy]

Just joined Team Werewolf for my first ArtFight! I'm really excited!

[figpng]

hey everyone!! im joining artfight this year >:D heres my lil card and some new ocs up for attacking

[cryptidofthekeys]

Dunno if you draw but are you going to join artfight this year?

I do draw, I got some art posted (v much still a beginner)

but even then-

I doubt I'll uh ever join artfight or anything like that, I got too much social anxiety BUT!! I have heard about the teams for this artfight supposedly!

its... Team Vampires vs Team Werewolves

and ya know, when I was a wee lad I'd have chosen team werewolves ...but... LESSSS GOOOOOOOO TEAM VAMPIRESSSSSS BABEEEEYYYYY LETS GOOO!!! #TEAMVAMPIRESWEEP !!!!!!!!!!!

[imawreck]

Masterlist

Authors note: Hello, and welcome to my collection of chaos. This is where all my fics will be located and linked. Some of my fics might have separate master lists depending on how many parts I publish for them! I tend to write multi-part fics, but if I can hold myself back enough to get out a one-shot, this is where those will be linked! Thanks for visiting :)

Key:

💕Fluff | ❤️‍🔥Smut | 💔 Angst

S.W.A.T.

Who I will write for:

Deacon Kay

Dominique Luca

Jim Street

Tactical Hearts

(Series, On Hiatus)

💕/💔/ ❤️‍🔥 (Future)

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x Original Character

Summary: Based in Season 2, S.W.A.T. is bringing in both old and new recruits as they recover from budget cuts. Among those new recruits, is Lily Blake. With her training and experience, she poses potential for the team. Unfortunately, not everyone is willing to overlook her spontaneous nature, or untraditional joining to S.W.A.T. Over time, feelings emerge and friendships are forged... and maybe something more.

Author's note: This is a slow burn romance, so it takes some time to pick up into the actual romance part. Sort of enemies to lovers, and a lot of chaotic behavior, as well as canon violence and such.

Recruit (Part 1)

Marvel Universe

Who I write for/Will write for:

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Loki

Thor

Spider-Man (Tom or Andrew)

Project G.H.O.S.T.

(Series, On Going)

💔/ 💕

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky assumed he was the last Super Soldier left. But what happens when he finds out that there might still be more like him, that there might be something Hydra cooked up that's worse than him?

Author's Note: This is an older fic I wrote for myself that I ended up carrying on for several parts. If it goes over well here I'll continue it, but for now I'll be posting what is written until there's requests for more or I just feel inspired to continue it.

Unknown (Part 1), Cargo (Part 2), Holding Cell (Part 3), Interrogation (Part 4), Experiments (Part 5), Pancakes (Part 6), Shopping Trip (Part 7), Poetry (Part 8), Perfect Soldier (Part 9), Amends (Part 10)

More in the Masterlist!!!

Project G.H.O.S.T. Masterlist

New Beginning Masterlist

Brooklyn Devil- A Vampire!Bucky Barnes x reader (Series, In Progress)

💔/❤️‍🔥/💕

Summary: A modern supernatural twist on the Marvel Universe where Bucky and Steve are still super soldiers, but their enemy isn’t Hydra. It’s every supernatural lurking on earth. SHIELD is now the organization created to maintain peace and balance between humans and supernaturals, and the Avengers are the elite force of agents sent to take down the most terrible of monsters. What happens when one of their own is turned?

Coven (Part 1)

His- a Winter Soldier x reader (One-Shot)

❤️‍🔥 (Straight Up)

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Heaven Scent (Part 1, Coming soon)

Lean On Me- Bucky Barnes x Reader (One-Shot, Requested)

Summary: Reader deals with depression and hasn’t told anyone in fear that they’d think differently of her or treat her differently. Bucky sweeps in to prove she’s wrong.

💔/💕 (Hurt/Comfort)

Moments Stolen- Bucky Barnes x Reader (One-Shot)

Summary: You take some time to spend with your favorite person.

💔(Angst)

Supernatural

Who I will write for:

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

The Walking Dead

Who I will write for:

Daryl Dixon

Wolfblood

Who I will write for:

Rhydian Morris

Vampire Diaries

Who I will write for:

Damon Salvatore

Elijah Mikaelson

Tyler Lockwood

Kai Parker

Kol Mikaelson

Tags <3

@winchestert101

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 46: Oliver's Ballet

Prev > Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: mind control, captivity

Oliver was trying to keep his hands from shaking as he walked up the stairs to the forbidden third floor.

It was the evening of the ballet, and his master had given him his instructions the previous night. He was to wake up before sunset, bathe, don the expertly tailored shirt and pants that had been provided to him, make coffee, and then head to Alexander's room to attend on him. Oliver wasn't entirely sure what that meant, and his nervousness over dispatching his duties warred with his nervousness about being an embarrassment at a fancy performance. He'd slept better the past two days, owning to Katherine's encouragement and his master's feeding, but now he couldn't help being slightly on edge.

Find happiness wherever you can...

He would do his best to follow her advice and enjoy himself tonight. It certainly wasn't every day he got to witness a ballet.

The oil lamp he was holding in his other hand sputtered and flickered as he climbed the stairs and apprehensively knocked on the dark wooden door that guarded his master's private sanctum. The door creaked open, revealing a very tired looking vampire in a fluffy robe. "Come in, Oliver, come in. Ah, you brought coffee. Excellent."

Oliver handed off the mug as he stepped over the threshold into the room, unable to resist sweeping his lamp around to get a better look, as it was currently only lit by a couple of candles.

Alexander's bedroom was furnished much like Oliver's, but larger, and far more cluttered. The window was covered with shutters, and a thick velvet curtain surrounded the enormous bed. The bookshelves were crammed full of books interspersed with rolled scrolls, stacks of papers, and seemingly random trinkets, a far cry from the orderly shelves in the library. The tables and nightstands were covered in stacks of books and hardened candle wax, and there was laundry strewn about the hardwood floor. The bed was unmade and the sheets and blankets were in a tangle, sliding off halfway, with a rubber water bottle lying nearby. The place smelled of bookbindings and floral soap and brine.

His master didn't seem remotely self-conscious about this state of affairs, taking the coffee, picking his way deftly through the mess, and sitting on the side of his bed. "It looks as if the shirt and pants fit without much need for additional tailoring. That's good," he said, looking Oliver up and down through half-closed eyes. "I suppose I ought to get dressed myself, and then you can assist me."

"Yes, sir." He was about to ask what exactly he would be assisting with, but as Alexander shed his robe and reached for his shirt, Oliver's attention was piqued by a strange symbol on his chest. A scar, but an oddly round one, with a faded symbol in the center.

"That doesn't concern you," said Alexander sharply, noticing Oliver's gaze. 

"Sorry, sir," said Oliver, making a point to look away as his master finished dressing.

He took another long look at Oliver as he buttoned all but the top button of his shirt. "...It's no matter. Come with me."

Oliver followed Alexander to a door in the back corner of the room, tripping over a pair of shoes obscured by an old coat on the way. The door opened to an absurdly spacious and opulent bathroom, featuring a marble floor, a porcelain bathtub large enough to fit half a baseball team, and expensive plush bath towels littering the floor in heaps. The smell of floral soap was even stronger here, and the remnants of steam clung to Oliver's glasses, the room oppressively warm.

Alexander sat down in front of a counter with a sink and a mirror, and Oliver's eyes went wide at the odd effect of his master having no reflection. He could see himself perfectly, as though Alexander wasn't even there.

"This is what I need your help with, Oliver. Making my hair look presentable, because I'm not able to do so myself."

That certainly explained why he was so disheveled normally -- although, given the state of his very visible room, it wasn't necessarily the full explanation. "What would you like me to do, sir?"

He gestured to a glass containing combs, long scissors, and a few other odd tools. "Whatever you think is fit. It's not as though I'm going to be able to see it to criticize. I only wish to look neat and presentable."

Oliver had really never paid too much attention to his own appearance, but he had always tried to look neat for customers, so he hoped he would be able to do the job. "Very well, sir," he said, apprehensively picking up a comb and running it through his master's hair.

His hair was soft, surprisingly so, and the scent of floral soap grew even stronger, with undertones of woodsmoke and bookbinding glue and something unidentifiable, a scent which he was quickly learning to associate with his master. Alexander closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face, seemingly enjoying the treatment. 

He must be so lonely. Oliver felt it so keenly the prior night when his master had cornered him in the kitchen and drank deep of his blood. As his master's thoughts pooled into his own, he was overwhelmed with loneliness, solitude, the desire for a warm and caring touch. Oliver couldn't help but work his hands into his master's hair on the pretense of styling it, enjoying the small, contented noise that escaped from his lips.

His master was handsome, wasn't he? Was there any harm in acknowledging that? It wasn't as if he had feelings for the vampire who had purchased him. He was simply accepting a truth, one that he had known even when Alexander was simply a prized customer.

"What is this ballet about, sir?" said Oliver, mostly to distract himself from this train of thought.

"It's an avant garde ballet, very controversial. It was actually choreographed and costumed by a famous Russian vampire who has worked in theater from well before I was born. This production has been mounted by a human company, though. It's a dance I'd been wishing to see for some time." Alexander's gaze traveled to Oliver's reflection in the mirror. "I have you to thank for encouraging me to leave the house more often, otherwise I might have missed this opportunity, instead electing to spend the evening wallowing in the manor's dust."

Oliver's breath hitched at his master's subtle smile. "I'm glad of it, sir."

----

Even though his tuxedo fit perfectly -- thanks to the detailed measurements Miss Florence had taken at the auction house -- Oliver still felt uncomfortable among the crowd dressed to the nines at the theater. He was dazzled by the gilded carvings on the walls, leading to a ceiling decorated with an elaborate fresco, and nearly crashed into a woman in a ball gown as he took in the sights.

His master, on the other hand, glided through the crowd effortlessly, paying them no mind. As Oliver followed, he could feel a sense of flowing waves, Alexander's vampiric aura pushing away everyone but Oliver, who felt compelled to follow his footsteps. It was just as well that his master was guiding him, lest he find himself lost.

Soon enough, they had both settled in a luxurious balcony box for two, and Oliver was shocked to see an actual look of excitement on Alexander's sleepy face.

"I simply can't wait to see the costumes -- I've heard they're magnificent. And of course, Yelena Pavlova is said to be a master of the dance. They say her striking and dramatic movements place her a cut above the prima ballerinas who only know how to flit prettily about," said Alexander, with enthusiasm. "I do hope you enjoy it."

"I think I will, sir," said Oliver. At the very least, he was sure he could enjoy it vicariously through his master.

The lights dimmed, the dance began, and Oliver soon found his attention riveted to the stage. It truly was an avant-garde sort of ballet, and the costumes were mind-bending. There were dancers wearing disturbingly realistic animal heads, costumes adorned with colored glass that glittered like jewels, massive peacock feather headdresses, ropes of pearls entangling their bodies, and a few in iron chains and shackles. The intricate pattern of their dance was ritualistic, as though Oliver were watching something forbidden that he couldn't take his eyes from.

Among them all, the prima ballerina Alexander had mentioned performed a stunning routine, clad in an outfit that seemed mostly comprised of ribbons in every color of the rainbow. She was striking pose after pose, being lifted and passed among the dancers, twirling faster than Oliver knew was possible. She was endlessly fascinating to watch.

The dance was so fascinating, in fact, that Oliver had forgotten all about his master's reactions. He glanced over, expecting that Alexander was enjoying himself as much as he was, and was shocked to see a look of stress on his master's face.

"Master, what's wrong?" he whispered.

"Nothing. Just watch the dance," he said, in a voice almost too low to hear, and his eyes flicked across the balcony to a different box.

Oliver couldn't help but look, to see what had his master so concerned. The box across the way had only one occupant, an older gentleman in an impeccably styled black suit. His full focus was on the ballet, his gaze holding a kind of judgmental intensity that made Oliver think he must be a professional critic.

Was this man troubling Alexander? It didn't seem like it could be. Perhaps he was worried about something else, and this man just happened to be in his line of sight as he glanced about nervously.

Could he be...?

Oliver tried to put it out of his head, but now he couldn't help but notice every time Alexander's gaze wandered from the stage. The moment intermission was announced, his master turned to him.

"Do you need to stretch your legs? Use the restroom?" his master asked. Before Oliver could even answer, he continued, "Very well, let's leave the box for a moment." He grasped Oliver's arm and practically dragged him from the box. Oliver found himself gently shoved into a secluded nook, away from the other patrons milling about the theater.

"Oliver, listen very carefully," said Alexander, his voice soft but deathly serious. "My sire is attending this performance."

Even though Oliver had been suspecting this the moment he'd seen the strange man, he still felt a spike of panic stab his heart at the confirmation. "Your sire is here?"

"I should have known he'd have interest in this ballet. But he's been so reclusive lately..." Alexander sighed. "But listen. You must follow my instructions exactly. If you do, it's unlikely you'll be harmed."

"I... I understand, master." Oliver's mouth felt dry.

"You must be quiet and obedient. Follow my lead, do not speak unless spoken to, and then, speak with the utmost respect. But you must be honest, even if you think the truth is dangerous. Never lie. He will know. And finally..."

"Finally what, sir?"

"If he takes control of your body, do not resist it."

"Takes control of my body, sir?" Just as Katherine had warned him.

"Do not resist it even slightly. If he seizes control, relax your body and mind and do not fight it. Believe me -- any struggle will only make your lot worse."

He blinked back frightened tears. "I can try, master."

"Good." Alexander put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "While I don't pretend to understand my sire's mind, I do believe no harm will come to you tonight."

"I hope not, master."

"Would you allow me to put your mind at ease so you can enjoy the rest of the performance?"

Oliver couldn't agree fast enough. "Yes, please, sir."

His master leaned over and hummed in his ear, and Oliver could feel his nerves calming, his fears growing foggy and distant.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Next week, Oliver finally gets to meet his master's sire.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme @strawbearydreams

[joshsindigostreak]

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter One

“Touching you makes me die inside”

Josh Kiszka x Vampire!Reader

Notes: I haven't written fanfic in literal years (let alone published anything) and this just popped into my head while on a road trip and I just had to write it down. Huge shout out to Kait @gretasmokerising and Anna @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine for being my soundboard and encouraging me to flesh it out instead of just being an idea in my head. Love y'all so much!

Warnings: not much other than descriptions of blood.

Word Count: 2520

The bar was unusually crowded tonight, a detail you always preferred on nights like these. On nights you only had one thing on your mind. Nights when you needed to feed. It was a chain sports bar, which was a rule of yours: never go to local bars, the smaller the establishment the more likely a local turning up missing would be noticed. Bartenders and owners always notice when their regulars stop showing up. But no one bats an eye when a sports fanatic in a sea of matching jerseys slips off into an alley or stumbles down the street away from the fray, that’s just Friday. 

So there you were, sitting at the far end of the bar where you could get a better view of the room, your finger circling the rim of the vodka RedBull you pretended to drink. Human alcohol was alright, and the concoctions they’d come up with were cute, but it wasn’t anything compared to blood. Nothing compared to blood. You started salivating at the thought of it, your teeth begging to extend from your gums in preparation, but you shake your head and focus once again. 

Your eyes scanned the crowd in the bar, sweeping through the loud and obnoxious patrons hoping to find a target that would satiate your thirst for a few nights. That’s when you heard it, this loud, jovial belly laugh from the corner of the bar. You snapped your eyes towards the source, and you saw him. Big toothy grin, with a gap between his front teeth, the sides of his head was shaved down to the skin, the rest of his hair was curly and clearly picked to death to make it as tall as possible. Poolstick in one hand and the other playfully slapped the arm of the man next to him who was playing with him. You took a sip of your drink as you observed him closely, gauging how drunk he was. Not that it mattered too much, men were easy pickings amongst humans. 

Your heightened senses let you hear what he was saying, and you almost switched your target to someone else when you realized how much of a motormouth he was. But you sighed and continued to listen, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the inane things he was rambling off. Yeah, you were going to enjoy shutting him up later.  If your stomach could growl anymore, it would have several times by now from the sheer amount of time it had been since your last feed. You were bored now, and needed to set the scene for your graceful exit and hopefully delicious dinner. 

The human turned his head to a person on his other side as they were speaking, and you got a clear view of the side of his sharp jawline, and more importantly, his neck. The only visible scars on him was a small scar on his cheek, the rest of his visible skin was unmarked, unblemished, and that excited you more. It was almost too pretty for what you planned on doing to it, and the visual of his blood running down his neck into his shirt, staining it while the scent filled the air had you nearly launching yourself off that barstool to sink your teeth into him right then and there. 

You shook your head a little to center yourself, you were too old to give into sloppy desires like that. Downing the rest of your drink, you hopped off your stool and quickly plastered a cheerful grin on your face when the bar erupted in cheers at one of the teams on the screen scoring something. You didn’t care what it was, who was who, or what idiotic sport these humans cared about, but you needed to blend in. Raising your arms, you let out the silliest “woooo!” you could muster without embarrassing yourself, while quickly making your way to the other side of the bar where your target remained parked by the pool tables. 

As you got near that end of the bar, you pretended to completely ignore him and his friends. You pretended you didn’t see how his vision snapped to you as you walked by, or how he barely blinked while he watched you stare at the old school jukebox in the corner, looking over the options. You pretended you definitely didn’t see how his grip on his beer tightened as he checked you out. Men were so fucking easy like this, even the undead ones you knew personally. They’d never changed in the three centuries you had been alive. 

You threw a look over your shoulder at the crowd behind you, matching the energy of the room and letting out an airy laugh at what was happening on the televisions. As you turned back to the jukebox, you saw your target walking towards you, nearly stumbling over his own feet to get to you. 

“You’re awfully happy for a girl whose team is losing miserably.” He mused at you with a playful tone in his voice.

You turned to him, slightly confused until you looked over his shoulder at the score and looked down at your shirt. Shit, he was right. It was nothing you couldn’t recover from however, “oh it’s ok, I just like the energy going on...” That was stupid, but he seemed to buy it. 

“Whatcha drinking?” He said pointing to the empty cup in your hand. 

You let out another light giggle, “oh just a vodka RedBull…” 

He immediately turned to the bartender closest to him and ordered you another drink and another beer for himself. As he turned away from you, you noticed the multiple ear piercings in his ear, and tried to check out the metal to see if they were silver or stainless steel. You hoped out of convenience they were stainless steel or even white gold, because silver of any kind burned a Vampire's skin. While it would take a significant amount to hurt you, it was still annoying to avoid minor burns while enjoying a simple meal. 

He turned back towards you, dagger earring swinging as he did so, “I haven’t seen you here before…”

“You haven’t? You must not have been looking hard enough.” Your mouth twists into a smile, not only to make it seem like you were flirting with him but because you could hear his heartbeat hammering in your head. He wasn’t even trying to keep calm in front of you. 

At your reply he started grinning too, giving you a front row seat to a tooth gap that for a human was adorable. You briefly wondered if he was aware of how cute it was but you shook that thought off, you needed to get this done. You looked him in the eyes, just then realizing how intense his stare was. Those big brown eyes of his bore into you, the wheels were turning behind them and you wondered what he was thinking about. It was almost a crime you’d never be able to see how they looked in the sun. You’d never see how the sun would highlight every swirl, every minuscule difference from his left and right eye, all the dimensions of color you could never see in person because of the one thing that could kill you. His eyes were sweet, in a genuine way you weren’t used to seeing in human men. If you hadn’t been starving you’d almost let this one go, and find a legitimate douche to feed off of. But then again, sometimes the sweetness from human nature translated in their blood. It was probably a Vampiric placebo effect, but sometimes you could almost taste someone’s nature in their blood, and this one, this man right here, made you want to test that theory to know for sure. Maybe he wasn’t as annoying as you originally thought while listening to his conversations earlier. Maybe. 

Someone scored, a home run, touchdown, they won the points but you didn’t care, because everyone in the bar except you looked at the TV and cheered. You used this distraction to make eye contact with him once more, it was time to use your Persuasion, it was time to get out of there. With him. 

“Hey…let’s get out here…” as you spoke, you felt your power come from within you and follow your words to him. He blinked once or twice, and nodded slightly and took your hand at once. You realized just then you hadn’t even gotten his name. Good. You didn’t need to get attached to this one with a name. Nearly losing your nerve over his fucking eyes was enough. You hadn’t been a teenager in over 300 years but for a brief second, you felt like one as his hand gripped ours and led you through the thick crowd. 

The two of you made it to the back door, slipping out into the night easily. The door led out to an alley, as cliche as they were to feed in, they were easy to leave humans behind in with no memory of what had transpired. The only light was from a single flickering light bulb fixed above the back door. There wasn’t even a moon out that night. 

He seemed highly amused at the fact he was alone with you, and spun around to face you as soon as the door shut, a toothy smile plastered on his face once again. “I live nearby. We can walk if you want…”

You held his gaze once again, using your Persuasion once again to your advantage. “No…this is perfectly fine…” Grabbing his hand this time, you led him down the alley, further into the dark. There were a few dumpsters on either side that made a perfect barrier hide behind. 

Another round of cheers sounded off in the distance. The bar would be busy for at least another hour judging by the game time when you left, which was more than enough time to feed and get the fuck out of there. You looked up and he’s still looking at you with a dopey grin, the effects of your Persuasion still in effect. 

He looked at you, going from your eyes to your lips, and you did the same to him. You leaned forward, lips softly brushed against his, eyes closing on instinct. The next thing you knew you were getting backed into the wall, the kissing getting messier and more passionate by the second. His front teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a slight noise escaping you at the action. You wanted to reach up and tangle your hand into his curly hair, but he had a firm grip of both your hands at your sides. So you just rolled with it, enjoying making out with this human before feeding on him. And you were about to pull apart to use your Persuasion again to get him in position, to even tell him it wasn’t going to hurt so he wouldn’t scream or be in pain. That was until you felt something-

Burning.

Hot. 

Fucking heat. 

Your wrists were suddenly on fire and you broke away to look down at your wrists being bound by silver fucking handcuffs. The target tightened them down on your wrists as tight as they could go, and when you looked up at the bastard you felt another burning sensation on your neck.

 He was holding a silver knife against your throat. This mother fucker. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Jesus Christ, I thought your file said you were supposed to be over 300 years old and you fell for that?!” He almost laughed as he pressed the knife flat against your skin, the sound and smell of sizzling flesh wafting through the air. Of course he had a fucking file. Humans love their stupid paperwork. You were fucked. 

“Yeah your little trick of batting your lashes at me to get me to do what you want didn’t work. Not once.” How in the fuckedy-fuck did it not work?! He was glaring at you now, the sweet grinning man you found in the bar was gone, at least on the surface. Those big brown eyes of his looked nearly black now, the grip he had on one of your wrists tightening even more as if he was trying to click the cuff even tighter, burn even deeper into your flesh. 

He was one of them. For every supernatural creature there were humans that hunted them. And this wannabe Dean Winchester clearly hunted vampires. It had been awhile since you had run into a hunter. At this point of your undead life you formed your own set of rules to keep you out of trouble. However, you played them all to a T tonight, and yet here you were, up against the wall being subdued by the supernatural equivalent to a boy scout. 

The adrenaline was rolling through your body as you narrowed your eyes, and if you had had the strength you would’ve strangled him already. 

“Fine. Fine! Just let me go and I’ll fucking leave the city and no one has to make a mess out here.”

“You think I’m letting you go anywhere when there have been bodies piling up left and right between here and 3 counties over?” He snarled out, leaning even closer to your face. 

Bodies? You hadn’t fully killed anyone around here. Not yet anyway. To the brink of death, sure, you weren’t a saint and shit happens, but you definitely hadn’t left a trail of bodies anywhere. What the fuck was he talking about? But you didn’t care that much, you needed to get the fuck out of there before anyone saw. 

“Listen you’ve got the wrong Vampire here I-“

“The wrong one? You were literally about to feed off of me. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing for a second. As soon as you walked into that bar I knew what you were. Your kind isn’t very subtle, especially the older ones. You have to work on that act of yours, sweetheart. It wasn’t as convincing as you’d think.” The grin was back, but it was cocky now and paired with an obnoxious dimple in his left cheek. This asshole. 

The cheers erupted again, causing you both to look up at the sound. This was your chance. You still had enough strength in your legs to stoop on his foot with your full weight, causing him to lose grip on the knife and for you to knock it out of his hand with your useless hands and to skirt around him. You took off as fast as you could. Not as fast as your typical speed would allow, but faster than a human. Faster than that dickhead. 

You had to get these cuffs off of you as soon as possible, and you had to make sure you never saw that douche again, or else you might actually kill him this time. 

Part 2?

Tag List: @lightmylove-gvf , @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema ,

[xmalereader]

John Price X Vampire! Male Reader || TWO ||

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|| Masterlist || ONE ||

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Authors note: The second part is finally here!! I almost extended it into more than one part but I had to cut it short and didn’t want to go overboard with it since I already have too many requests to work on. But, starting next week I will be updating the requests!

Summary: Reader is a vampire who works in the task force alongside his husband. His profile is classified and no one knows about his biology and what who he really is, what happens when his new team finds out about him?

Warnings: Blood, violence, reader wears a face mask, language, price is overprotective, mentions of death, death threats, task 141 is cautious about reader, reader is a softie, price and reader are married, vampire history, slight gore, illusions, panic attacks.

Word count: 2.6k

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They were moved to a safe house near their targets area where they can prepare for what they need and keeping en eye on the guards that stood around the building they are to raid in two days. During their relocating, John had been keeping a close eye on Y/n, making sure that his husband was comfortable along with having everything packed.

The captain wasn’t one to worry about anything but after his conversation with Y/n he couldn’t help but feel a little cautious about the mission.

He already caught his husband sucking on a blood bag when he passed by his room, watching him with his mask pulled down while he drinks quietly, staring into space while John sighs to himself and makes sure to close the door for him so, that the others wouldn’t see him.

John at first didn’t mind seeing his husband eating in order to gain energy and to keep his hunger in control, but he did worry that he was drinking more than one bag in the last few hours.

The captain had frowned and left the building in order to search for any signs of blood or perhaps some civilian children running around and getting hurt or getting a scrape or two. He didn’t find anything like that in the last few hours which only made the situation worse.

Y/n didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings and focused on his health. Whenever he was alone he’d take the chance to drink non-stop, sometimes standing guard outside in the dark while he took his time. He didn’t take much notice of it and focused on the fact of losing control, afraid of getting caught and getting his own self killed if his new team were to find out about him.

It wasn’t until the day that they were heading out that he was paired up with Ghost. Assigned to do a quick search of the building and in hopes of finding anything or anyone that can help them get closer to their target. He had his gear ready and guns loaded while giving John a small reassuring smile under his mask, knowing that he captain could see the slight squint of his eyes before he steps out of the building.

He can hear john through his coms as both he and ghost make their way around in the dark, keeping quiet and guns out. “Approaching the building.” He hears ghost grunt out as they hop over a fence, crouching down and hiding behind a few wooden boxes as Y/n looks over to check for any signs of life.

“No guards.” He whispered into his radio, frowning under his mask as his eyes shift over to Ghost who was staring back at home. The two thinking the same thing as Ghost speaks up. “Something’s wrong.” He starts, getting the others attention including Johns. “No guards out front. There were three yesterday but see no sign of them.”

“Move forward, they could be inside.” Said John while the other two nod at each other, confirming their movement as they continue forward. Y/n approached a window, signaling to Ghost that he’ll go in first and make sure that it’s safe, putting his gun away and using his knife to unlock the window before sliding it open. He steps inside, not making a sound as he looks around.

“Clear.” He puts his blade away and takes his gun out, coming to a stand and helping Ghost inside. “Building has two floors, will sweep the first floor before moving upstairs.” Y/n radios John and made their way through the first floor. The two splitting up as they checked everyone room, finding nothing but boxes and old blueprints that had nothing to do with the building. He hears the Lieutenant call out to him.

“Tick, we’re moving upstairs.” He nods his head towards the stairs. “Copy.” Y/n takes the first step, moving slow as they make it to the second floor, not hearing or seeing anyone. Y/n is about to give up and call it and head back to the safe house. Before he could turn around and leave a strong smell hits him, causing him to lick his lips. He follows the scent down a hallway where he stands in front of two double doors.

He checks the doors, locked.

He takes out his blade and uses it to unlock the door and pushing it open. The scent suddenly hits him hard, blinding his senses as he looks inside to see the room full of corpses. He stood frozen in place, hearing the faint sound of Ghosts footsteps as he approached him, calling out his name and then cursing under his breath when he sees the room.

Ghost reaches out to Price to let him know.

“This place isn’t for hiding, they were using it as a morgue.” Ghost steps inside the room, getting further inside while Y/n stood at the entrance. “Fucking hell.” He mutters out.

“The guy we were after.” Ghost says. “He’s dead.” He bends down on one knee to check the man’s pulse, getting no sign of life. He also takes notice that his corpse is pale, fresh blood surrounding him and the rest of the bodies. “Something isn’t right.”

“Ghost—you need to get out of there now!” Price shouts through the comms. “Get the hell out of there!”

Ghost turned around to alert Y/n but, catches the man on his knees. His hands over his masked mouth coughing and choking on his own spit.

“Tick!”

Ghost takes a step forward.

“—don’t go anywhere near, tick!” Price suddenly shouts.

“Sir—“

“Goddammit, Ghost. Get the fuck out of there and leave him behind. Now!”

Ghost continued to watch Y/n as he frantically searched his pockets, ripping a few of them open and inhaled sharply when he doesn’t find a blood pack with him. His own eyes widen when he slowly looks over to the fresh corpses, dripping and still filled with blood. His head is all over the place as he holds himself back from tasting any human blood, relating to himself that he’d never take human blood.

“Tick.”

Y/n looks up to face Ghost who’s eyes are wide when he sees the color of his eyes turning bright red. The smell of blood surrounding him in this room as he gags again. “Go…leave now!” He shouts at ghost, growling under his mask and tries to focus on something else. His fingers twitching and aching to get his hands on one of those bodies.

He can sense ghost reaching for his gun but, he can also sense someone else in the room with them. His own eyes widen, looking up to see one of the previous guards from yesterday lurking behind Ghost, their own eyes also red. Their hands and mouth covered with blood as they bared their fangs, ready to take on their next prey.

Before Ghost could react, Y/n was shoving the taller man behind him, attacking the guard and pinning him down against the blood covered rug. The guard thrashing and kicking him off while Y/n grunted and growled in anger as the guard bolted towards Ghost but, again, Y/n was faster and grabbed the guard by the neck. The two slamming against the wall and barreling down the hallway, nearly falling down the stairs.

Y/n had lost his mask on the process revealing his own fangs at the guard who had a hint of surprise on their face, letting his guard down and giving Y/n the advantage to attack, pinning his arms on either side of his head, straddling his waist and keeping him from escaping. He tries to find a way to reach for his gun without letting the other escape but isn’t able to reach far enough without getting knocked over.

The room is full of grunting and thrashing, the sound of multiple footsteps is heard. His eyes not only focus on the guard but on the blood that covered their entire bottom face, his breath hitched at the sight. His mouth gaped open as he leans down only to be pulled out of his sense when a gun goes off in the guards head, causing their body to go limp.

His brain starts to function again and moves off the body, crawling away while panting heavily and covering his mouth at the thought of almost tasting human blood. His body feels cold, hands numb and his breathing began to pick up. He can’t feel the hands on him but knows someone is there. Someone had seen him without his mask. Someone had seen him.

His thoughts reach a point where he can’t even breath anymore.

“—Y/n! Hey, I need you to breath for me.” He can hear his husbands voice, calm and soft as he tries to bring him back to reality. “Easy, count to ten.” John has a gentle hand on his shoulder as he counts backwards from ten.

“Nine, eight….”

Y/n swallows and slowly looks up to meet Johns eyes before they avert to his lips, reading them as he counted down along with him.

“Five, four, three…” The two say in unison until he’s back to breathing normally, his red eyes going back to the regular color and slumps back against the wall. His whole body is still covered in blood and finds a way to ignore it and focused on John.

“There you are.” John chuckled softly.

The hand on his shoulder is tightened until he’s pulled forward into his embrace. He cautiously reached up to grip Johns back, hugging him tight and nuzzling his face into his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to John, knowing that he snapped and wrecked the mission. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, love. It’s alright.” John mumbled back, knowing that they weren’t alone. The rest of the team stood from a distance, haven’t they walked in at the wrong time and witnessed everything. They had watched Y/n fight with the guard as they tried to pry him off but the man was far too lost in their sense that it took John to stop it.

The team had no idea on what just happened nor did they know how to process it.

“Come on, that’s it.” John helped Y/n stand, arm around his lower waist as he helped him. The sound of a gun cocking gets Johns attention, head shooting up to see Ghost aiming his gun at Y/n. “Put the gun down.” John hissed out.

“Not until you explain what the hell just happened and what the fuck he is.” Ghost nudged his Gun in Y/n’s direction, demanding to know while the others tried to make him put the gun away.

“What are you doing?!” Soap hissed.

“Captain, ain’t telling us something.” Ghost shot back, glaring at his captain as he holds his husband close to him, ready to take a shot if things were to go bad. It wasn’t until Y/n holds his hand up, pulling away from John and reassuring him that he would be alright.

“Put the gun down and I’ll explain everything.” Y/n croaks out, watching ghost huff out a grunt and lowers the gun. “Talk, now.”

Y/n sighs deeply. “This place wasn’t a hide out but a nest for feeding. A nest for vampires.” He finally says.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Said Soap but Y/n doesn’t laugh nor does he show a sign of humor. Soaps half hearted smile drops. “Wait, your serious?”

Y/n nods. “I—I am one myself. Have been for years but I’m nothing like them.” He nods towards the dead guard. “This nest is used for newborns who are still learning and newborns list for blood nonstop to the point where they’ll wipe a whole town. That is if travel in large groups.” He continued to explain until John cuts in. “Y/n had been surviving off of animal blood for years. The smell that room carried must have triggered his senses it usually doesn’t get this bad.”

“And yet, he somehow snapped.” Ghost glared at Y/n who flinched, looking away in shame. “Does Laswell know?”

“Yes.” John answers. “Laswell and I knew but no one else did until now. But, that doesn’t matter if he’s a vampire at least he knows what he’s doing and helping us with our job. What matters now is what’s in that room.” He points to the room full of bodies, getting everyone’s attention. “If this thing was in there,” he kicks the dead guard. “That means theirs more.”

Y/n licks his lips, walking cautiously towards the room. He used his hand to cover his mouth and nose, taking in the sight as he counted the bodies and did a quick check up on them. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, could hear the sound of their hearts beating with anxiety as their hands gripped their guns. He couldn’t blame them for being cautious towards such dangerous things.

He takes a step back from the room, shoving through the group to keep a good distance from the room and uncovering his mouth. He takes a deep breath and coughs it out. “I counted twenty bodies. Ten old and ten fresh, that’s enough for five newborns.” He blurts out, getting the teams attention.

“Wait—you’re saying that five vampires killed twenty people?” Gaz asks, eyes wide. He stares at his captain and then at Y/n before moving back to his captain. “I’m not much an expert at this stuff.” Price admits, even though he’s been married to one for a few years now. “But, I do know that they are dangers and could still be around.”

Ghost finally speaks up. “Can they make more?”

“Not unless one is pureblood.” Y/n answers.

“Pureblood?”

He nods. “Vampires can be created or born—in order to be created a pureblood is the only one who can turn a human into a vampire with either a bite or sharing their blood. Purebloods come from royalty, birth parents are both vampires but rare to find. Which is why we aren’t around anymore.” He mumbled. “If five more of these vampires are out there then it’s possible that they are creating more, perhaps an army even.”

“Then let’s go kill some vampires.” Soap smirks at his own words.

“No, this is something I have to clean up.” Y/n gives soap a sad smile.

“You can get yourself killed.” Said Gaz.

“I’ll be alright, these newborns are far too dangerous and can easily kill a human. I have to work fast and in my own terms.” He turns to his husband. “Tell Laswell that I’m KIA, it’ll give me the ability to work fast in my own terms. I can’t have her knowing about this, as much as I appreciate Laswell, she can’t be involved.”

“And if you come back? What do you want me to tell her.” John raised a brow while Y/n chuckles. “The truth after it’s over.”

John sighs deeply, crossing his arms over his chest and silently agreeing. “Alright.”

“I guess I’ll have to push back on retirement, huh?” Y/n smiles a little while John rolls his eyes. “After you kill that bastard your coming back home with me.”

“Wait, am I missing something,” John starts, pointing at the two. “Back home? Do you two live with each other.”

“Their married.” Gaz rolls his eyes while soap gaped at the two. Ghost having to reach over and close his mouth.

[s-che]

If Systems Don’t Matter, Why Are You So Embarrassed?

hey gang. this play report is, as you may know if you've been paying attention, coming in just about two weeks late, which is not ideal. this happened because i have been very busy with work, because i am poor. if you like what i do here and want to make me more busy with this kind of stuff and less poor, maybe consider tossing me a couple of bucks? it would mean a lot. Now back to ur regularly scheduled content.

Sometimes it’s fruitful to have a collaborator in order to riff, bounce ideas off each other, and generally intellectually pollinate. Sometimes it’s good to have someone who can fall on a sword so you don’t have to. I’d be remiss if I didn’t start this month’s reflection on the Dream Library book club by calling out the tremendous amount of work the internet’s own @marvelousmsmolly has been doing in the last little while to keep things afloat.

We played, talked through, and read Vampire: The Masquerade this month, along with some guest excerpts from Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Hunter: The Reckoning, and probably Unicorn: The Saturnalia for all I know. These collectively make up a small part of something called the “World of Darkness,” a universe which I’ve been told is entirely separate from something called the “Chronicles of Darkness” in ways I don’t entirely understand. They were published by a company called White Wolf until White Wolf was sold, and then a team called White Wolf inside a series of larger companies until they were summarily — and rightly — dismantled following the spectacularly bad decision to pin real-world Chechnyan anti-gay purges on in-universe vampires. We’ll get back to all that in a second. 

I picked the game — Vampire, that is — to close out our fall semester on Monster(fucking), advocating for it in part because I suspected it would make big claims about what it could do narratively and fail mechanically to deliver. And, while I was right on that count, what I couldn’t have predicted was how hard the bug (the vampire?) would bite, and how seriously Vampire-mania would sweep the Dream Library.

I think @wildwoodsgames hit the nail on the head at the very tail end of our discussion thread, when they called Hunter: The Reckoning “a game playing with a lot of very potent ideas that it is not super responsible with.” 

This is a statement could be truly made about every scrap of World of Darkness I’ve read (which was none, to be clear, before we started this month). They’re games which constantly sit on the edge of juiciness and fail spectacularly, stumbling instead into some of the most short-sighted and often willingly edgy alt-history stuff I’ve ever seen. But — like I said — I’m going to have to come back to a lot of that later. 

I have two big takeaways about VTM:

I. VTM is comic books

Intertext and serial fiction get a bad rap, sometimes, in our current moment of bloated and collapsing franchises — of Glup Shittos and Marvel’s Sony’s Spider-man’s The Avengers. But before the content mill gets really grinding there is a real joy to be found in reading something and seeing the shape of a whole world fill out behind you. I know a lot of people find that pleasure in the EU Star Wars novels. When I was a kid, I found it mostly in Middle-earth — except, I should say, for one long summer at my grandparents’ house when I tore through my cousins copy of Marvel’s (Sony’s Spider-man’s) The Runaways. 

Big 2 Superhero Comics  — because they’re serial and because they’re short and because they have a long history — have a really lovely way of finding interesting niches in old worlds and running with them. In a real way, VTM tries to do the same thing. The whole structure of the World of Darkness relies on the fundamental premise that a big interlinked all-happening-at-once world is, in fact, cool. But it also — maybe because of the way the game is inviting you to make your own OC and carve out your own niche — tends to focus on the thing comics does, finding an interesting nook or cranny where more stories could be told rather than flattening everything down into one grand “Skywalker Saga.” 

By way of this interest, VTM resists the narrative black hole that so many “worldbuilding” IPs fall into. There are no Jedi to take center stage, no Aragorns into whose narratives the lovely story of The Hobbit disappears. And if there are — well, I haven’t read about them. I don’t have to read about them. Vampire gives me the space to do my own thing. It also gives its writers the space to make massively bad decisions — and, holy shit, there are so many bad decisions in these books. Famous instances, yes: the Vampire Chechnyan thing and Werewolf’s relationship with indigeneity — but also small corners full of some of the stupidest ideas you ever heard. Moses Maimonides, Mossad agent. V5’s inexplicable fascination with 9/11. An entire Wraith section on the Shoah. Some of this stuff swings around and is almost juicy again — but who on earth who ever greenlight it?

2. VTM is embarrassed to be a game

It isn’t a new take to say that VTM fails to deliver on its compelling setting with an equally compelling set of mechanics, but it did astonish me to realize how much the actual text of the game buys into the narrative that rolling dice and thinking about rules is a secondary function of a game in comparison to the almighty narrative. You see this in suggestions geared to streamline combat, but you also see it in the eighteen pages of in-universe fiction which come at the start of the book before the rules narrator can get a word in sideways. VTM exists setting first: they are desperate to prove that you could strip away all the numbers and still be playing VTM. I have two thoughts about this:

There’s a certain appeal to the way VTM seems to think about this, which we could call a Brennan Lee Mulligan “get the rules out of the way and let me RP” approach. The fact that Brennan and VTM have this in common is, more or less, unsurprising to me knowing that Brennan has a background in large-scale LARP, where clearing the explicit mechanics to let roleplay happen is a massive design priority. VTM has its own long history of LARP and I do think it’s radical to recognize that there is something to a game beyond the mechanics. To play in the VTM world — whether with a d10 or a cloak or by writing fanfiction — is to play VTM, and I’m glad to see a system take pleasure in that (especially because its explicit mechanics aren’t very good).

That being said, I wish participants in this sort of “clear the rules” roleplay-first style recognized more explicitly the mechanics they aren’t getting out of the way: social dynamics, narrative structures, relationships to knowledge and authority and the ability to hold a room’s attention which absolutely structure freeform RP as much as any “then roll Xd10.” The presence of these social dynamics, especially, has been a massive recurring theme of our Monsterfucking unit as a whole, as game after game seems to really struggle to design for their inevitable presence.

All in all, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed VTM — although I liked reading it and thinking up a character more than the live play. I think it’s a game that’s perhaps uniquely ill-suited to the Dream Library’s format and the rapid cycling-through of games it entails, but there’s something to be said for the way the setting itself gripped me. I wanted to tell the story of a little freak’s descent into evil, even if I didn’t have the time for it. Maybe I’ll go play 1,000 Year Old Vampire.

Next up — well, more like currently — the Dream Library is taking a little winter break. Not an actual break, of course: we’ve already had a festive session of Wanderhome, Molly is hosting a session of Never Stop Blowing Up set in a mall around Christmastime soon, and then maybe Hanukkah Goblins? We’ll see.

If you want to get in on any of that, hey. Click this link.

If not, I’ll see you here next month.

Peace

[axepng]

Bleh bleh bleh

[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 4

Ch. 4 - The Stowaway

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: I promised we'd get a pale vampire didn't I? Well, we might have also bitten off more than we can chew in this chapter...but you'll have to read on to see. You might also notice I'm making a few changes to the canon for a few characters. You'll see why...eventually.

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“A stowaway?” Minthara said, her lips curling into a playful smirk. Playful in the way that a tressym who’s cornered a pigeon feels playful. “How convenient. I was just thinking we might need to gather a sacrifice or two to appease any gods on our journey.”

“H-hang on,” the elf said. “Let’s not get too hasty. I can explain—”

“Save your words, darthiir. Lest I decide to kill you where you kneel.”

“How’d he even get on the sub?” Karlach mumbled nearby. Beside her, Shadowheart simply shrugged. Gale stayed quiet, but he suspected he knew exactly how the elf managed to steal aboard. Perhaps it wasn't Tara in that large supply crate after all...

“He looks like a vampire,” Wyll said, crossing his arms. “Red eyes, sharp fangs, pale skin. All the signs are there.”

The elf opened his mouth as if to argue, and then visibly seemed to change course. He looked up at Minthara instead. “I don’t suppose that rules me out for sacrifice? After all, I am undead. Not much left to sacrifice.”

She merely continued to smirk. “It makes no difference to me whether you are undead or not. If anything, it makes you even more disposable.”

“But I could be useful! Not as a sacrifice. I—er, I could—” His eyes cast around the room as if desperately searching for inspiration. 

Another gnome pilot spoke up while he struggled to come up with something useful. “Saer, we’re approaching the first area marked on the maps.”

“Enough, Minthara. We will deal with this later,” Gortash said, leveling a significant, almost warning look at her. "We have more pressing matters to attend to."

He turned to his pilots. “Activate the searchlights and begin a slow sweep of the area. Everyone else, eyes on our surroundings. You know what to look for.”

“Aye, saer. All engines reduce to ten percent,” Redhammer said.

A chorus of pilots responded with confirmations and other reports, and the great rumbling of engines that had filled the air and thrummed through the floor decreased to a faint purr in the background. Through the view of the glass ceiling and windows, towering cliffsides and rock formations materialized into view as the submersible slowed to a crawl, drifting slowly through the deep sea valleys and trenches.

“You two, keep an eye on the vampire, will you?” Gortash said, gesturing dismissively toward the drow. 

The two dark-clad soldiers glanced briefly at Gortash before focusing on Minthara again, clearly awaiting further orders. She stared down at Astarion with obvious disdain before turning away and moving to gaze out of the glass on the port side of the submersible.

“Bind him and keep him secure here in the helm. I don’t want him underfoot. If he makes any attempts to flee…stake him in the heart.” She flashed a crimson-laced warning look over her shoulder at the vampire before facing the windows again.

Gale watched, uneasy, as the drow soldiers bound the vampire’s arms behind his back and tied his legs together at the ankles. The vampire, to his credit, only murmured a few dark words under his breath, but more or less consented to the treatment. He settled down to kneel in a corner of the helm, watching them all with wary curiosity. Gale doubted he even knew what kind of situation he had gotten himself into.

“Poor guy,” Karlach said softly, joining Gale at the desk. “Feels kinda gross to claim a prisoner on our first day…but that’s Gortash and Minthara for you.”

“Have you worked for them long?” he asked, looking up at the fiery tiefling. 

“Long enough,” she said. “Gortash more than Minthara, though. I signed on to work for him over ten years ago. Then I got dragged into the hells. Literally."

"Literally?" Surely she wasn't being serious.

"Yup. Hear that?” She banged on her chest. Beneath the sound of fist on flesh, there was a dull metal thunk. He leaned in closer despite himself. In the quiet wake of the reduced engines, he could hear the faint sounds of machinery clicking and whirring and the soft, rhythmic release of steam. 

“Is that…metal?” he asked, a little awed and a little queasy. How in the world...?

“Infernal engine for a heart,” she said, stating the grim fact with about as much weight as if she were admitting her hair was naturally black. “Courtesy of a certain archdevil in Avernus. I spent years down there, a soldier in the Blood War, before Gortash made a few deals to bring me back. Never did find out the details, but…it doesn’t matter. I owe him my life.”

Gale could scarcely believe what he was hearing, and yet, it was far from the most ludicrous or tragic true story he’d ever heard, even in his short life. “How did you end up there in the first place?”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. One minute, it’s any old day. The next, I’m waking up in the hells with this thing in my chest.”

She fell silent for a second and then quietly, almost a whisper, said, “Zariel said Gortash sold me to her for a bargain, but…that can’t be true. He sacrificed so much to bring me back, he can't have been the one to sell me out. He even fixed up the engine so I wouldn’t be on fire all the time. She must have been lying.”

But even as she spoke the words, a tone of doubt crept into her voice until at last she looked uncertain. Gale didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

After a few seconds, she shook her head and glanced back at the vampire. “Anyway, as much as I hate to see it, it’s just how things are around here. I hope we can just let him go somewhere in the Underdark, though.”

Gale studied the vampire again. He was expecting feral hunger and wicked glances, but the elf simply watched his surroundings in silence. He looked, if anything, resigned. Even tired.

But perhaps it was all a ruse. 

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Karlach decided all of a sudden. “See what he’s about.”

“Just make sure Minthara doesn’t get too annoyed with you,” Gale advised. “She seems to have plans for him.”

Karlach waved this off with “pfft!” and a smile before jogging over to the two drow soldiers and the vampire. Gale watched her chat a moment, a little smile on his face, before collecting the Nauterran Account, tucking it back into his satchel, and moving toward the windows on the starboard side.

Lae’zel and Wyll were both staring out of the glass next to Gale, watching the underwater scenery drift by. Amid cliffs and crags, there were standalone towers of stone, deep crevices, and far too many caves, some shallow, some deep. Night must have well and truly fallen by now because the water beyond the reach of the enchanted lights had grown pitch black, like a dense cloak of darkness. It didn’t make the search any easier.

The searchlight nearest the three of them swept slowly over the sea floor between cliffs and towers, at first illuminating nothing but stone and sand. There were no signs of any statues or carved structures just yet, but as for caves and crevices? There were more than he’d been expecting. It might take them hours to find anything worthwhile. 

After a moment, though, new shapes came into the light. Sometimes sharp and jagged, sometimes rounded and smooth, these shapes were noticeably different than the natural rock formations that surrounded them.

Shipwrecks.

“Uh oh,” Wyll murmured. “That’s not a good sign.” 

As more and more came into view, it was undeniable that they were anything other than the shattered remains of ships. Masts, hulls, even rare glimpses of shredded metal lay scattered around the sea floor and the cliff sides. It was as though an entire fleet of ships had been dragged down into the depths, suddenly and all at once.

Beside Gale, Lae’zel made a sharp noise. “Chk. There are enough ships here to build an armada. An old battle between two navies, perhaps?”

Gale frowned. “No, I don’t believe so. Look—there are too many different ship designs.” He pointed out several that he recognized. “Waterdhavian. Calishite. Even Luskan designs. These ships would have come from all over the Sword Coast, and perhaps even from Evermeet and beyond.”

“Some of these are quite old, perhaps even centuries old,” Wyll said. “I recognize a few ships from history books about Baldur’s Gate’s early days, the kind of ship Balduran himself would have sailed in.”

“We must be getting close,” Gale said. “Perhaps some of these people were sailing for Evermeet, but others…they must have also been looking for Nautera.”

The three of them were quiet a moment, watching as more and more shipwrecks came into view, their hulls cracked open, their masts splintered into shrapnel, their sails and flags and ropes little more than threads. At last, Wyll finally voiced the question they were doubtless all thinking.

“What dragged them down here?”

Gale dared not guess. His mind was already swimming with visions of catastrophe—everything from a great tempest or a whirlpool to the colossal figure of Umberlee herself, her blue-scaled face rising up before them with flashing eyes and a smile full of several rows of needle-sharp teeth.

None of this boded well. The sooner they found those statues, the better.

He moved the strap of his satchel from one shoulder to the other, so that it crossed his body, and made his way to the front of the helm to peer out of the windows there. He leaned against one of the metal control units, his nose nearly to the glass, trying to see further ahead despite the darkness of the water. 

Gortash joined him after a moment, frowning deeply as he stared out through the glass. “Blast this infernal darkness, I can barely see a thing.”

“Perhaps if you left the searching to those of us with advanced darkvision, your lordship,” came Minthara’s voice from across the helm, a hint of a smirk in her voice.

Gortash ignored her. “What we need is a powerful light spell,” he said instead, turning to smile at Gale. “I don’t suppose you have—”

His next words were ripped from his throat as the entire submersible lurched violently upward with a deafening bang, driving everyone to their knees or knocking them completely off their feet. The submersible tilted abruptly to one side, forcing Gale to grab onto a series of metal pipes to keep himself from sliding completely across the floor. Shouts rang out around the helm as pilots struggled to get back to their places and right the submersible again.

“What did we hit?” Gortash demanded, grabbing onto the control panel to clamber back to his feet. “Give me a damage report! Now!”

Another massive blow was his answer as something struck the back half of the submersible, sending them spinning nearly full circle. Redhammer bellowed commands as those not piloting the submersible fit themselves into nooks or secured themselves by hanging onto anything bolted to the seacraft, be it railings, controls, or pipes. A grating, repetitive alarm began to blare through the room and down the passageways of the submersible.

Suddenly the submersible lurched again with another bang, this time as if something had wrapped around the exterior and yanked it around. The pilots struggled against wheels and levers as they spun or activated on their own, but it was useless as the submersible was pulled upward and tilted sharply down. Gale tumbled over the top of the control panel he was standing near, hitting the glass of the front windows as the seacraft tipped dangerously downward, almost vertical. He caught himself on hands and knees, landing painfully, but it wasn’t the pain that froze him.

It was the sight of a massive, reptilian face and large, glowing yellow eyes that chilled the blood in his veins.

“Oak Father preserve us,” he heard Halsin say, somewhere in the back of the room behind him. “Is that—”

“A dragon turtle!” Wyll finished, his voice a mix of boyish excitement and sharp warning.

The dragon turtle tilted its giant head and then unlatched its jaws in a grin-like fashion. Its mouth was easily large enough to swallow half their submersible in one go. A serrated edge, almost like teeth, lined each jaw, the upper jaw forming a sharp beak that looked all too capable of puncturing even the thick metal exterior of their submersible. They were trapped in its claws, Gale realized, held fast in its strong grip as they tilted again under the dragon turtle’s piercing gaze.

A deep rumbling, like a laugh, issued forth from the depths of its throat, vibrating through the submersible. Then it spoke, its voice so deep and slow Gale could scarcely make sense of the words, even if there weren’t several inches of metal and glass between him and the dragon turtle. The volume and deep timbre of the voice shook the seacraft, rattling everything that wasn’t nailed down—the desk, trinkets around the room, even Gale’s bones. The sound was deafening, dampened only barely by the exterior of the submersible.

“What language is this?” Shadowheart shouted. “What is it saying?”

“I think—it must be draconic!” Gale shouted back, struggling not to collapse under the force of the impossibly deep voice. It finally trailed off, leaving a strange buzzing behind, as if everything were still reverberating from its short speech.

Gale could scarcely form a thought, the ringing in his ears was so loud. He suddenly felt tiny, staring down the maw of the gigantic creature with only a few inches of glass between himself and almost certain death. Something gripped his chest and squeezed it painfully, something that forced his breaths to turn shallow and sharp.

Terror, he realized distantly, as his body seemed to rapidly cool and grow warm in flashes.

He was terrified.

“Wizard, what did it say?” Minthara asked.

“I…” He could feel his hands shaking and the adrenaline singing in his veins. Was this to be his fate? Swallowed by a dragon turtle, or left to drown in the depths of its lair? All he could do was stare at one of the creature's large eyes, fixed beneath its glowing yellow gaze.

A familiar and loathsome ache seized his chest as panic threatened to consume him, constricting his heart and hardening his lungs. The mark on his chest began to glow bright purple in response to the pain. Almost like a reminder. He could do it now—if they couldn’t get out of this alive, would it be so bad to take the dragon turtle with them? If he—

“Wizard!”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to focus. He mentally called back to just a moment ago, trying to retrieve the syllables and sounds the dragon turtle had said from his memory and play them again in his head, forming the words silently on his lips as he recalled each word. His eyes snapped open as understanding dawned on him.

“It said, ‘Greetings, strange metal one,’” he translated in a slightly quivering voice. “It...it wants to know what tribute we bring.”

[laurenairay]

When the time is right - R. Graves

Summary: the start of the relationship between Ryan Graves and the woman who stole his heart, Soren.

Words: 2k

Warnings: spicy implications, mentions of a bet, Ryan has not been traded.

A/N: Happy early birthday @tippedbykreider! 🎉🎉🎉 I wanted to write you a little something, so here’s an ode to our love of the Prettiest Vampire – it’s just short fic from the much longer story I’ve been writing forever, for Ryan Graves and my OC Soren. I hope you enjoy this and I hope you have a wonderful birthday!

Title from; Afterlife, by Avenged Sevenfold

~~~

“Are you ever going to make a move?”

Ryan choked on his drink, turning to look at Dougie, who was snickering at his reaction.

“What?” he asked, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand.

“Are you ever going to make a move on her? You two have been flirting non-stop since Bratter’s girl introduced her to the group, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed,” Dougie mused.

Ryan’s breath hitched in his throat at his friend’s words, loud enough that Dougie’s amused expression shifted into a smirk, to which Ryan just groaned. His eyes shifted across the room to land on the girl in question. Soren. The day that Nicole had brought her along with them to a team gathering, Ryan had been lost. It was cheesy really, almost feeling like a romcom doomed to fail, but every time he looked at her he got butterflies, and all he wanted to do was make her smile. Ryan wasn’t going to lie to himself – he knew exactly how he felt about Soren in all her gothic witchy beauty. He thought he’d been low-key enough to keep his composure, but if Dougie was saying he hadn’t?

“You’re not the only one who’s noticed?” Ryan sighed.

“Well at least you’re not lying in protest,” Dougie grinned, “and no, I’m not the only one. There’s even a bet going on whether or not you’ll actually man up and tell her how you feel.”

Of course there was a bet. Of course. He could only imagine how high the pot money was, if Dougie of all people was pushing this.

“Let me guess, your betting time is coming to an end and you want your winnings?” Ryan said dryly.

“Aww you do know me,” Dougie grinned, unashamed, making Ryan snort, “But seriously, talk to her. It’s dumb that you haven’t already, and if you wait around, someone else will snap her up. She likes you, you like her, you’ll make cute gothic babies.”

One step at a time.

But maybe Dougie had a point. The last thing he wanted was for someone else to sweep Soren off her feet. She deserved to get treated like the queen she was, and if he didn’t step up to the plate, ruining any chance he had with her? No, he couldn’t bear the thought. Maybe Dougie was right – he needed to say something, before it was too late.

“Oh I know that look. You’re planning. What are you planning?” Dougie teased.

“You’re the worst, go away,” Ryan muttered, pale cheeks flushing.

“Nuh uh, I need to make sure you actually go through with this so I can get the $5k I’m owed,” Dougie shrugged, smirk returning slightly.

5000 dollars. Holy shit. That’s ridiculous.

“You guys have way too much time on your hands,” Ryan groaned.

“Yes we do,” Dougie said seriously, before breaking the façade with a snort, “Go and talk to her, Gravy, really. I’ll even throw a couple of bottles of Sangiovese in as congratulations.”

So not fair dangling his favourite wine out like a carrot on a stick.

“How generous,” Ryan said dryly.

But as his gaze drifted back across the room to where Soren stood, he found himself locked on her as she threw her head back laughing, her long dark wavy hair swaying, the girls around her all laughing just as hard. She was perfect. Perfect for him. Could it really be that easy to just go over and talk to her?

“All jokes aside, I know that you’re serious about her. And anyone with eyes can see she’s the same with you. Take the risk, Gravy. You won’t regret it,” Dougie said, expression losing all humour to be replaced with the warmth that Ryan had grown to appreciate.

“Yeah. You’re right. What have I got to lose, right?” Ryan said, huffing out a laugh.

Other than, ooh, his dignity?

“Atta boy,” Dougie grinned, slapping Ryan hard enough on the shoulder for him to stumble slightly.

How had he managed to get himself in such a ridiculous situation?

Never let it be said that Ryan Graves was a quitter. He finished the last mouthful of his beer, placing the empty glass down with a thump, earning a whoop from Dougie. Ridiculous. Here goes nothing.

~~~

“Well Dougie looks hyped up about something.”

Soren startled slightly at Nicole’s words, hand coming up to rest over her heart as her friend cackled, before her eyes flickered over in Dougie’s direction. Well, it wasn’t like she was going to lie about knowing exactly where Dougie was, because he was standing right next to Ryan – and any of the girls with half a brain knew that she had a ridiculous crush on him.

How could she not?

Ryan was sweet, and kind, and charming, and endearing in all his awkwardness, and so damn hot with all his flirting. He was the most complex layered person she had ever met, but damn it she was enjoying slowly peeling back each layer to learn more. She’d been nervous, all those months ago, when Nicole had invited her along to a team gathering, but the moment she’d met Ryan? She felt like she was home. There was just such an instant spark, an intense attraction that she had never bothered to deny, but the longer that she spent in his company that he didn’t make a move on her, the harder it was to keep those butterflies filled with hope.

Because there was no way Soren was going to be the one to confess first. Nicole (and Jesper) had assured her that Ryan absolutely had feelings for her, but she’d been burned too hard in the past. She just couldn’t put her out there again without knowing for sure. So she just held on to the hope that one day, Ryan would say or do something to convince her that her friends weren’t crazy, that she wasn’t crazy. It was all she could do. Well, other than continuing to flirt with him, of course – she wasn’t passing that up for anything. Having his sweet smile, intense dark eyes, beautiful face looking at her? All that attention? No, she wanted to keep that, thank you very much.

If she’d put on her favourite figure-hugging black velvet dress just to catch his eye tonight? Well, that was just for her knowledge.

“Oh shit he’s coming over.”

Nicole’s voice again drew her out of her thoughts, but it was the gasp and light slap on her arm that made Soren look back over properly.

Ryan was walking over to them. Nicole wasn’t wrong. He’d never looked at her like that before either.

“Hi Soren. Ladies,” he said softly.

Despite him addressing the whole group, his eyes only looked at her, something which Nicole clearly noticed.

“I think I could do with a drink. See you Gravy.”

Soren couldn’t help but laugh at the lack of subtlety as her friend dragged the rest of the girls away, Ryan just flushing slightly. Her laugh softened into a smile when Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, clearly nervous about something. What did he have to be nervous about? It was just her.

“You and Dougie looked like you were having fun,” she mused.

Ryan huffed out a laugh, shrugging his agreement. “He’s an idiot, but we keep him around anyway.”

Soren couldn’t stop the laugh that spilled from her lips at Ryan’s blunt words, Ryan’s responding smile giving her the usual butterflies.

“Are you having a good night?” he asked.

“Better now you’ve finally come over,” she grinned.

She really couldn’t help but to flirt with him – it just came out so naturally. How could it not? It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was interested in Ryan Graves, not in their circle of friends, so why would she hold herself back?

“You were having fun with the girls, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, shaking his head as he laughed, although his cheeks flushed slightly at her flirting.

“Better late than never, I suppose,” she teased.

He flushed a little more, the pink trailing down his neck and below his shirt. A wicked part of her wanted to know exactly how far that blush travelled. Her strands of dignity just kept her thoughts as a smile.

Then he cleared his throat, smile shifting to something a little more serious, making her breath hitch in her chest. She’d never seen such an intense look on his face before, at least not around her.

“Soren, I…”

He trailed off, huffing out a frustrated breath, sending a pang through her chest. So she rested a hand lightly on his arm, trying to encourage him. The audible shaky breath he inhaled just intrigued her a little more.

“Is everything okay, Ryan?” she asked softly, smiling.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he said, nodding.

“Really? Because you look like you have something to say and you’re not quite sure how to say it,” she said, teasing only slightly.

He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “How do you know how to read me so well?”

“Lucky guess?”

“No guessing about it,” he shot back, smiling, “There is something I want to say. And I don’t know how to say it.”

His admission made those pesky butterflies flair up once more, so Soren just squeezed his arm where her hand was still resting, before letting him go.

“Did you want to go somewhere a little quieter? Would that help?” she offered.

She didn’t realise how it sounded until Ryan blushed furiously, a flush spreading lightly across her own pale cheeks in turn.

“I didn’t mean any funny business?” she said, a little awkward.

Trust her stupid mouth to run. For once, she hadn’t actually been flirting or making any innuendo.

“I wouldn’t mind a little funny business.”

Oh.

Oh.

His murmured words made her breath hitch in her throat, her lips parting in surprise. When Ryan’s eyes dropped to her parted lips, despite his blush, she knew that he’d meant his hushed words. She was going to take this chance and run with it.

“I think we should get out of here. Have a proper…discussion,” she said softly, almost like a purr.

The soft whimper Ryan made was everything.

“Yeah, lets go. To talk. My place?”

~~~

“I thought…you wanted…to talk?”

Soren managed to gasp those words out between fierce kisses, clutching at Ryan’s back where he’d pushed her into his hallway wall. Ryan groaned in protest, breaking the kiss reluctantly to stare down at her. He didn’t stop pressing her full-body into the wall though.

“Now is not the time to tease me,” he murmured, eyes dark and warning.

She grinned at the promise in his gaze, just making him groan again before moving to kiss down her throat.

“How about I do some guesswork, and you can tell me if I’m wrong?” she laughed.

Ryan hissed out a yes, nipping her earlobe to affirm.

“In the bar, you were going to ask me out on a date. Something just the two of us. Something that Dougie was teasing you about. Something to fulfil the bet people don’t think I know about. Am I wrong?”

It was a gamble, being so brazen with her words. But she’d never shied away from a challenge before and she wasn’t about to start now. Ryan immediately froze though, lifting his head sharply away from her neck, looking down at her with panic.

“I had no idea about the bet until literally just before I came over to you. I swear,” he said firmly, almost desperately.

Bless his heart.

“Oh sweetheart, I know that. Jack can’t keep his mouth shut and he doesn’t exactly have a quiet volume setting,” she mused.

The relief that spread across his face was almost comical, but it settled something in her too. He wanted this. He wanted them. And he wanted her to know that, right?

“Do you want me, Ryan?” she asked, walking her fingers up his chest.

His breath shuddered at her teasing touch, but he nodded without hesitation.

“I do. I do want you, Soren. So much,” he said, eyes wide and earnest.

That was all she needed to hear.

Soren grinned slowly, making him watch her satisfaction, and he stood so still that he was practically shaking as leant up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “If you want me, take me.”

It was all Ryan could do to groan and capture her lips in another kiss.

[ladykailitha]

In the Midnight Hour Part 3

And here we come to the REAL reason I started this AU.

Part 1 Part 2

*

Steve picked Robin up to take her to school. And she was chattering away like she always did.

“Like it’s hilarious,” Robbin was saying. “Andy and Chase, not having the energy to do anything. They’ve apparently been benched twice because they can barely stand let alone dribble a ball.”

Steve hummed. “Anyone else on the team that’s been lethargic?”

Robin thought for a moment. “Not on the basketball team. There were a couple other jocks that had that long and drawn out look, but they’re better off, I guess. Able to function and shit, but like pale.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a vampire or some such shit.”

“Ewww,” she crowed. “Are there vampires in DnD? Could this be an Upside Down thing?”

Steve chewed on his lips. “I don’t know, Robs. I’m not well versed in this shit. I’d the hitter not the planner.”

“I’ll talk to the dweebs at lunch,” Robin sighed. “See what their thoughts are on this.”

Steve nodded.

“What are you doing today?” she asked as he pulled up the school.

“I have the day off so I thought I’d visit Wayne again,” Steve murmured.

Robin’s shoulders sagged. “You don’t have to keep doing this. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “It helps...me.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you to lose anyone, even if you didn’t get a chance to know him.”

Steve just nodded.

She patted his shoulder and then left for school.

He drove straight to the Motel 6 and pulled into the parking lot. Thanks to Eddie being a part of the “team” or party or whatever the government had deigned to give Wayne Munson the ‘pay off’ or whatever to keep his mouth shut about the Upside Down.

So he was living in a motel until he could get a bank to look at him to buy a house.

Steve walked up to room six and knocked.

Wayne opened the door. “Back again, Harrington?”

Steve smiled. “Maybe I just like your company.”

Wayne scoffed. “No one likes my company these days. Well except you and that Henderson kid.”

“Dustin’s been by?” Steve asked, looking down at his feet.

“He still not talking to you?” Wayne asked softly.

Steve shook his head. “Thinks it should have been me instead of Eddie. I thought I share.”

“Survivors’ guilt is a hell of thing,” Wayne agreed.

“You were in the Vietnam war, right?” Steve asked, sitting down on the one chair in the room.

“The government always were sick sons of bitches,” Wayne said gruffly.

Steve scoffed. “Tell me about it.”

Wayne frowned. “And what would you know about that?”

Steve looked around. “You think this room is bugged?”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t pegged Steve for a conspiracy nut, but then this wasn’t the normal teenage boy, either.

“No,” he replied. “I sweep for bugs every time I come back.”

It was Steve’s turn to look surprised. “Now, why would you do that, sir?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you know,” Wayne said, sitting on the bed and facing him, “and I’ll tell you what I know.”

So Steve did. He told him everything. From the beginning with Will all the way to the end with Eddie’s death and the return of Vecna.

“Shit,” Wayne said. “Had I known it was Henry Creel, I would grabbed my shot gun and helped hunt down the bastard.”

“You knew Henry Creel, sir?”

“I’m only a year older than that sick son of a bitch,” Wayne said. “I have my accent because I kept it. I want to remind every single one of those bastards that I am not here by choice.”

Steve frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I was the wrong kind of powered,” Wayne said. “Can’t do much with an empath.”

“What’s an empath?”

“An empath is someone who can feel other people’s emotions. I can immediately tell what mood someone is in no matter how good they are at masking it,” Wayne explained. “Can’t weaponize feeling things. They tried to get me use it feel out foreign heads of state. Are they nervous, happy, angry? The problem was that they could be mad about their toast being burnt that morning and not angry at being at the meeting. So I was dumped in a town that hated people who were different.”

“What was your number?” Steve asked.

Wayne shook his head. “Different project. I had a name, not a number. I was the precursor to whatever shit they got Henry involved in. And your friend, too.”

“What about your parents, your brother?” Steve asked. “Didn’t your family care what happened to you?”

Wayne shrugged. “My parents were happy to take the money the government gave them to keep their mouths shut and my brother was their golden child. I grew up in the care system here and got a job right out high school.”

Steve winced. “Is that why you offered to take Eddie, because you didn’t want him in the system?”

Wayne smiled. “I don’t know why your friends think you’re the dumb one, you seem pretty quick to me.”

“When it comes to people, sure,” Steve said with a small smile. “Not when it comes to everything else.”

Wayne smiled back. “I think you and I are the same, thinking with our hearts and not our heads.”

Steve straightened up and grinned. “I don’t have powers, though.”

Wayne just shook his head. “You’re here about Eddie, aren’t you?”

“I know Dustin told you he died,” Steve said.

“But he’s not dead,” Wayne said. “I can still feel him.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Come again?”

“I’m real close to Eddie,” Wayne explained. “I can feel his emotions better than anyone. When Dustin came and said he died. He wasn’t wrong. Not then.”

Steve closed his eyes and lower lip shook. “I think Vecna‒Henry brought him back as a vampire or something similar.”

Wayne nodded. “He’s not quite right, my Eddie. When he was brought back I mean, not before.”

“He’s been visiting me,” Steve admitted shyly.

“How long?”

“A few weeks,” Steve said softly. “I was having nightmares and hallucinations before this and thought he was one of them.

Wayne nodded. “What made you decide he might be the real deal?”

Steve threw his head back and groaned. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I’m waiting,” Wayne said playfully.

“His hair.”

“You want to run that past me one more time?” Wayne asked.

“I’ve been able to ‘touch’ my hallucinations before,” he said put air quotes around touch. “But this was different. I’d never touched his hair prior to his death so I should have no frame of reference for what it should feel like.”

Wayne nodded. “Ah. I gotcha. You expected it to feel a certain way and when you touched it, it didn’t feel that way.”

“Exactly!” Steve said, snapping his fingers. “And that’s why I’m here. You needed to be the first to know that Eddie was back. And that there might be a chance to bring him home.”

Wayne nodded, tears filling up his eyes. “You’re a good man, Steve Harrington.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m really not. But if it was the other way round, I’d be pissed if no one told me there was a chance to save him.”

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11  Part 12  Part 13

Tag List: @thequeenrainacorn @savory-babby @chaoticlovingdreamer @grtwdsmwhr @renaissan-vvitch @panicatthediaz @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[solradguy]

Dengeki PlayStation F2, April Special Issue, Volume 19 ( April 10, 1996)

Archive.org upload w/webview .PDF and .ZIP of the full resolution scans: archive.org/details/dengeki-play-station-f2-vol19

I bought this magazine for the Guilty Gear beta article (which I hope to translate soon), but it's absolutely loaded with interesting early fighting game reviews/previews as well as a decent Final Fantasy 7 preview article.

Translation of the table of contents with the English title in brackets (where applicable):

[LEFT COLUMN] Dengeki [electric shock/attack] PlayStation April Special Issue F2 SPECIAL REPORT - A volley of big titles! ● Exclusive screenshots of the hottest new wave of fighting games! GUILTY GEAR….8 ● The latest information on the PS version of the latest popular Neo-Geo title!

[SNK Special] The King of Fighters '95….13 Samurai Spirits: Zankoro Musouken [Samurai Shodown III]….14 Real Bout Garou Densetsu [Real Bout Fatal Fury]….15

● Super latest information on very big titles that we can't wait until December FFVII [Final Fantasy 7]….148 ● The latest RPG from the tag team of SCE and MediaVision Wild Arms….154 ● Simulation romance in which a vampire protagonist plays an active role in high school life BLOODY BRIDE ~Imadoki no Vampire~ [Today's Vampire: Bloody Bride]….158

Kiokusoshi [(computer) storage element] F2 Strategy and data of fighting games post-release Street Fighter Zero….74 Toushinden 2 [Battle Arena Toshinden 2]….84 Suikoden….90 Goukouji Clan 2….94 Fire Pro Wrestling: Iron Slam ‘96….98 Don't Lose! Magic Kendo 2 [Kendo Rage 2]….100 Sora Ninku….102 Champion Wrestler: Jikkyou Live….103 …and more―

[RIGHT COLUMN] Unrivaled Lightning Combat! The hottest hand-picked PlayStation fighters of today.

Tekken 2 Tekken 2 for PS is here, with numerous special modes and amazing high quality CG movies, far surpassing the arcade version! Really useful in-depth strategy, Part 1….18

● The PS version of "Tekken 2" has finally been released with a reputation as the best bishoujo fighting game! Advanced V.G. [Variable Geo]….34 ● The latest information on this title that all PS users have been waiting for! Vampire [Darkstalkers]….46 ● Easy controls and a variety of action! A very promising title in the bishoujo fighting genre!! Asuka 120% Special….56 Galaxy Fight….62 Mobile Suit Gundam Ver.2.0….66 Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon Super S. [Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon SuperS: All Members!! Championship Contest]….68

Arcade Special: The arcade wave is sweeping over the PS… ● Report on the entertainment system trade show, which will occupy the entire game scene in the future. AOU Show Reported '96….116 ● A preview of the latest installment in the classic and very popular series. Street Fighter ZERO 2….122 ● The latest arcade fighter on the System 11 board. As expected, a PS port for… Soul Edge….124

[BROWN LOWER BOX] New software schedule….6 [Manga] Tekken 2: Hajimete Monogatari [The First Legend/Story]….106 [Patient Corner] F's Servants….110 Readers' Survey….114 Dengeki Soft Station….127 Software Maker Question Box F2….144 Dengeki News Station….146 Dengeki PS extra issue preview….160 Next issue preview + Game Index….161