#and Ryder is a vampire that can turn into a dog

[m--rtyr]

its hard to make ryder look pathetic because he's a very one-expression kind of guy.

but then he also has a 'not boyfriend'. so

some maryder

im asking you bc idk who else to ask,

which of my vamp ocs should i draw?

Ryder, big man, long hair. or Bash again. prettiest lady in the cult.

( I have more but these are the more popular amongst my discord)

Personally, I would go with making Ryder look as pathetic as possible, cause he deserves it in the best way.

Though I would absolutely support more Bash in religious iconography

[mint-yooxgi]

{2} - Lethal Protectors - Yandere!Vampire!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Vampire AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 9,448

Warnings: Joong fucks up big time. Depiction of a panic attack. Violence and blood. Kidnapping (not the oc). Implied stalking. Past trauma and mentions of scars. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Welp, the first part was based off a dream, and subsequently, the second part is as well. (Well, the ending, mainly, but I digress lol). Anyways, I mentioned it briefly before, but this series is probably going to be more broken up into one shots than linear, but I'll see how that goes. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, seeing as this turned out much longer than I planned for it lol. Also, Joong is not a good boy in this part. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Gentle reminder that I don't do tag lists

Mini Masterlist - Part One

“You’ve been avoiding us.”

A sudden voice off to your right has you practically dropping the small box in your hands. Luckily, whoever seems to have startled you moves quickly enough to prevent it from hitting the ground. Looking up reveals the culprit to be Yunho.

“I’ve been busy.” Comes your blunt answer, grabbing the box rather harshly out of his grip and packing it into the car with the others.

“Busy enough to rarely leave home, and then decide to move out the moment your parents go away on vacation?” He counters, a hint of hurt bleeding into his tone.

“How do you know if I’ve barely left my house or not?” Your brow furrows, the sound of the car door slamming shut resounding through the area. “Or if my parents have gone on vacation?”

“My point is,” he leans against the car, a subtle pout pulling at his lips, “we know you’ve been avoiding us.”

“You deflected.” You cross you arms over your chest.

“And you’re leaving us.” He mirrors your stance.

Your lips part in answer, only for the loud slamming of your front door to echo out, a happy yip soon to follow.

“Okay, so I think I’ve gotten everything- oh.” Your sister’s voice halts as soon as she sees who you’re talking to, the chipper patter of feet stopping dead in their tracks.

“It’s okay, Chloe,” you sigh. “Just get in the car. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“He’s not-“ Her eyes dart from between you and Yunho, “He’s not…”

“No, he’s not one of Ryder’s friends.” You confirm, and the way instant relief is seen in the way her shoulders deflate says it all.

“Okay,” she still eyes him a bit warily as she moves over to the passenger’s side.

The rear door is opened to let the dog into the car, and then not even a moment later, she closes it in favour of hopping into the front seat. You can feel her eyeing you through the window, despite how she takes out her phone to appear busy.

“It’s been over a month-“

“I recognize that.” You sigh once more.

“You said we would talk about things later.” Yunho’s voice is hushed, the hurt easily portrayed on his features.

“Yes, I did.” You blink at him, reaching to open the driver’s side door.

“Well?” His one brow quirks, a gleam of hope shining behind his eyes.

“Well, what?” You prop the door open, practically clinging to it for dear life.

“It’s later.” He states, blinking at you expectantly.

“Look, Yunho,” you grimace slightly, “I’m not talking about this now.”

“Then, when?” He takes a step towards you, and you shuffle the slightest bit backwards. 

His expression falls, but he backs off. For now.

“Whenever I’m ready.” You say.

“And when will that be?” His fingers twitch at his sides.

“I don’t know, Yunho.” You shake your head, climbing into the car. “I don’t know.”

The sound of the door practically slamming in his face serves as a finality to the conversation. A fact of which is only furthered by the revving of the engine rumbling to life, the car backing out of the driveway without you so much as sparing another look in his direction.

You get about three minutes down the road before Chloe is looking at you expectantly. “Okay, spill.”

“Spill, what?” You scoff playfully.

“What was that all about?” She quirks a brow as you turn the corner, driving the car down the road that will lead to the major highway.

“Nothing important.” You reply.

“‘Nothing important’ my ass!” She rolls her eyes. “A super handsome guy comes over to talk to you, whom has nothing to do with Ryder, and you brush him off like he’s dust on your jacket?” A pointed look is sent your way. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Chlo.” You shake your head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Then why-“

“Please, Chlo,” you spare a glance towards her out of the corner of your eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Talking about it means accepting what happened. Talking about it makes it real.

“Fine.” She grumbles, tapping away at her phone. “But I get to pick the music.”

Not even a moment later, one of her favourite songs at the moment begins blasting through the car radio. Loudly, she begins singing along, and although you know she’s doing it on purpose, it takes you no time at all to be smiling and singing along with her.

Two days ago, your parents left for a three month long vacation. Unfortunately, it coincided with the time that Chloe needed to be driven back to university for her second year. So, you being the responsible adult you are, offered to drive her yourself. She managed to find a place with her significant other, and today is the day she promised them that she would move in.

You’ve always been close with your sister, so it’s no big deal for you. Chloe and her dog, Raymond, are literally your little rascals. Sure, she can get on your nerves a lot, but what are sisters for? You’re sure she’d say the same for you. 

You just weren’t expecting Yunho to show up outside your house.

It’s true. You have been avoiding them. Honestly, it’s been easier than you expected, but then again, your parents have been home to go out and buy groceries, and you’ve been able to work remotely for your job since you’ve gotten it.

No more coffee runs. No more spontaneous walks through the forest. Not even late night boba runs with Chloe, much to her disappointment. Of course, last night you caved, seeing as it had been the last time you would be able to do such a thing with her for a while. Luckily, you didn’t run into any of the guys then, like you so feared.

Fear. What a strange word.

A word that means so much, and affects even more. A word that, no matter how little it might seem to be, can rule your life.

It’s not that you’re terrified of them, no. It’s more like a caution. You know what they are. You know the lengths they are willing to go to protect you. Yet, despite it all, and your original feelings of safety, you cannot help but doubt their intentions. They say you’re their ‘mate’. So, is that the only reason they’re doing this for you? That they did this for you?

If you were anybody else, would they even have helped?

You seriously doubt that. Which is exactly why you’ve been avoiding them.

Perhaps if they don’t know what they’re missing, they can’t miss you in the first place. Not that they should, really. They hardly know you, and the whole reason you believe that they want to get to know you is because of some stupid fate bullshit.

Would they have even given you a second glance if not because of it? Would they have even cared? 

Probably not, and that is what makes you so hesitant about them. You don’t know them, and you don’t know if you want to.

Five hours - and a few pit stops - later, you’re finally pulling into the parking lot of the new apartment building that Chloe will be living in. You’ve agreed to help her move in and unpack with her significant other, and they’ve both agreed to buy you dinner, and let you stay the night in return. After all, it is a lot of driving to do in one day.

Walking down the hallway once exiting the elevator, you already see Brent, Chloe’s significant waiting by the open door to their apartment. Nothing but excitement is on their face as Chloe bounds up to them with Raymond in tow, practically tackling Brent over in an embrace once she reaches them.

“I’ve missed you so much!” You overhear her say, bringing a smile to your face.

“I’ve missed you, too, Chlo.” Brent replies, rubbing a hand along her spine in comfort.

“Good to see you again, Bren.” You nod at them, that smile still present on your features.

“You too!” They grin, pulling away from Chloe as she moves into the apartment to get the dog settled. “Thanks for driving her, and helping us today.”

“It’s no problem.” You walk passed them into the apartment, dropping off the box in your hands on top of where Chloe has just placed her own. “I needed to get out of the house, anyways.”

Brent simply quirks a brow, only for Chloe to reappear a moment later and lean into them, “Guy trouble.”

Understanding flashes across Brent’s features.

“Chloe!” You shoot her an exasperated look. “That is not true!”

“Mmhmm,” Chloe hums skeptically. “And I’m a natural blonde.”

Your younger sister walks passed you, and your eyes cannot help but focus in on her dark roots growing in on the top of her head.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you put up with her,” you shake your head teasingly towards Brent as you both follow your younger sister back down the hallway after closing the door behind you.

“It’s a miracle,” Brent chuckles, “but I manage.”

“Hey!” Chloe whines as you all step into the elevator. “You two know I can hear you, right?”

“That’s the point, Chlo.” You giggle, ruffling her hair. “If you’re going to tell the world about my fictional problems, expect to be teased back.”

A grumble escapes her as she crosses her arms over her chest. Flicking the hair out of her face, she quickly exits the elevator once the doors open to the lobby.

“Come on, I still need to unpack.” She huffs, flicking some of her hair out of her face.

The two of you follow behind her, unloading the car and setting boxes around the apartment. Luckily, you all only have to take a few trips, as Chloe doesn’t have too much stuff with her. Her clothes and books are probably the biggest items, though. 

By the time you finish helping her organize her stuff in their room, it’s well into the evening. Currently, she sits before the two bookcases, organizing her novels on the bottom shelves.

“Pizza’s here,” Brent pops their head in, drawing your attention.

“Thanks, Brennie,” Chloe smiles. “We’ll be right there.”

Folding up the final box, you place it to the side as Chloe stands from the floor.

“I think that’s everything.” She breathes a tremendous sigh of relief, wiping her hands together once back on her feet.

You smile at her. A tender, proud look on your features.

“How does it feel?” You ask as you follow her towards the living room.

“How does what feel?” Her brow furrows slightly as she glances back at you over her shoulder.

“To have your own place?” You quirk a brow.

“I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet.” She replies honestly, sitting on the floor by the couch.

“Our apartment comes furnished with these beautiful couches, and you still choose to sit on the floor.” Brent shakes their head, taking a seat closest to Chloe on the sofa.

“You know my sister,” you chuckle, taking a seat on the closest armchair. Then, you’re turning to meet her gaze. “Yeah, it didn’t hit me the first time I fully moved out until the next day.”

“Living in a dorm is definitely different than living on your own for the first time.” Brent comments, to which you nod in agreement.

“But I’m serious, you two,” you look between them. “If you ever need anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to call me. I’ll always get here as fast as I can.”

Chloe whines your name slightly while taking a slice of pizza. Then, she’s meeting your gaze. “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

“We appreciate it.” Brent corrects, nudging Chloe lightly with their knee.

Just as you go to take a slice of pizza, your phone rings. Your brow furrows, not recognizing the number, so you opt to let it ring out. Only, when you immediately get another call from the same number, you briefly excuse yourself before answering the call.

“Hello?” Your brow furrows as you step into the kitchen.

“Oh, thank fuck!” A relieved sigh is heard from the other end. “You actually answered this time.”

“Wait, Wooyoung?” Your frown deepens. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important right now.” His words are rushed. “What’s important is that you left.” A brief pause, before a small whimper is heard through the phone. “You left us.”

“Excuse me for being under the assumption that we’re not together.” You blink. “Ergo, it should not matter where I go, who I’m with, or how long I’m gone. It is none of your concern, or your business, what I do.”

“I can’t help it.” The pout in his voice is apparent. “You are my concern.”

You blink in shock, not quite sure how to take his words. Though, in your silence, you hear a smack resound on the other end.

“Wait, that came out wrong-“

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait-“

You disconnect the call.

Stepping out of the kitchen, you barely make it a foot before your phone starts ringing again. It’s the same number, but you choose to decline the call.

Then it rings again, and again, and again.

By the third time you have to deny the call, you block his number.

“Geez, you really seem to be having trouble in paradise,” Chloe jokes, attempting to ease the sudden tension she sees in your shoulders.

“I-“

Your phone rings. This time, with a new number that lights up the screen.

Standing to your feet with a sigh, you retreat into the bathroom this time. Hopefully, due to the room being further away, it’ll allow you a little more privacy.

“Look, Wooyoung-“

“Where are you?”

The intensity of the voice behind the inquiry catches you off guard. “Excuse me?”

“Where. Are. You.” Each word is emphasized slowly, and you can hear the barely restrained anger behind his tone.

“Frankly, that’s none of your business.” You reply smartly.

“You are our business.”

Your eyebrow quirks, irritation clear on your features as you catch your reflection in the mirror. “You want to try that again?”

You’re not putting up with this shit. Looks like a few weeks of not getting what they want is allowing for their true colours to show.

“Just tell us where you are before-“

“Or, what? You’ll track me again?” You cut him off.

“If we have to.” Comes his blunt response.

“Ah, yes, because this is making me certainly believe I have a choice in all of this.” Your words seem to shut him up momentarily. “Goodbye, Hongjoong.”

You don’t receive another call that night.

The next day, you stay at Chloe’s for as long as you can. You’re dreading the drive home, and just who might be waiting for you when you get back. Only, you have no other place to go for the moment, and you don’t want to impose for longer than you already have.

To make matters worse, it starts raining about halfway through your drive home. The clouds are dark, and the fact the sun is setting isn’t helping visibility at all. A storm even breaks out an hour before you’re due to arrive home, a torrential downpour impeding your drive. Luckily, it seems that you drive through it, and you manage to pull into your driveway while there’s a break in the rain. However, you know it’s only a matter of minutes before it’s opening back up again.

Quickly grabbing your things, you exit the car. The moment you hear the sound of it locking behind you, you lift your head. At the figure you see sitting on your front porch, you nearly drop your bag.

There, sitting hunched over with his elbows on his knees, is Wooyoung. His hands are clasped together, fingers worriedly threading through one another. His head is down, but you know he’s already heard you exit the car.

The second the sigh slips passed your lips, he looks up.

“You’re back.” The tension in his shoulders seems to ease slightly as he stands back to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” You move passed him to walk up the front steps.

“I was waiting for you.” He answers. “No matter how long it took, I was going to wait until you came home.”

You eye him warily. “Why?”

A moment where he simply blinks at you in response, as if his answer should already be obvious.

“I wanted to see you.” He says, earnestly.

“Wooyoung, you all hardly know me.” You sigh.

“We want to, though.” He takes a step towards you, and even though you take a step back, he stands his ground. “All we want is a chance to get to know you, and for you to know us. Is that too much to ask?”

You purse your lips, looking down and to the left as you avoid his gaze.

The soft patter of rain begins to dance against the awning above you.

In a voice no more than a whisper, you speak, “What if I don’t want that?”

He swallows thickly. “You don’t mean that."

“What if I just want you all to leave me alone?”

“No.” Wooyoung begins to shake his head, his lower lip wobbling as he falls to his knees. “You can’t mean that.”

Hesitantly, he reaches out for you, but you recoil back.

His hands fall limply to his sides.

“Please, don’t be scared of me.” His voice is but a mere whisper on the wind; weak, just like his demeanour as the first of his tears begin to trail down his cheeks.

You don’t respond, opting to turn around and unlock your front door. Maybe if he believes you are scared of them, he’ll leave you alone.

“I want you to leave, Wooyoung.” You keep your tone low, voice steady. “Leave, and then I never want to see any of you again.”

Just as you go to push the door open, you feel a weight press against your lower spine, hands coming to settle on your stomach.

“No! I- I- Can’t!” He sobs. “I won’t!”

The words hardly register in your mind before you begin hyperventilating. You drop your bags, desperately clawing at his arms around your waist as panic seizes your entire body.

“No!” You shriek, chest heaving. “Not again! Let me go! Not again!”

The grip around you tightens in shock, but you perceive it another way.

“Not again!” You’re yelling at this point, words beginning to slur as you attempt to catch your breath and get away from the person holding onto you. You choke on a sob. “Please.”

There’s some shuffling behind you, the sound of the pouring rain practically drowning out everything else. You faintly register a name being called, and then the feeling of those arms being pulled off of you.

You fall to your knees, collapsing onto the cold, hard ground. More sobs escapes you, your whole body shaking as you curl in on yourself, begging whoever it is to leave you alone.

A stern voice cuts through the rain, but you cannot make out any words. However, the raised tone has you trembling harder, violently sobbing as you protect your stomach as best as you can.

Still, you wait for the inevitable pain to come.

It doesn’t.

Instead, a gentle voice begins cooing at you. Softly, you are shushed, and encouraged to calm down, and you can feel your heartbeat finally settling in your chest. Breathing begins to become easier, and the heavy ringing in your ears lessens enough for you to hear your surroundings properly once more.

“That’s it, My Dove,” It’s a male’s voice. “You’re safe. I promise nothing will ever harm you again.”

You blink, more tears falling from your eyes as your whole body begins to relax.

“It’s alright now. You’re okay.” A figure is crouched right in front of you. “Just breathe.”

Gently, a hand reaches out to cradle the side of your face, wiping at your tears all the while.

“Everything will all be okay.”

Finally, your vision clears enough to take in the male before you.

“Seonghwa.” You manage to breathe out.

“Hello, My Dove.” He smiles faintly, worry soon creasing his brow as he watches you attempt to push yourself up into a sitting position. “Don’t strain yourself.”

You look around, noticing another figure standing beneath the pouring rain with his back turned to you. Your brow furrows, swearing that you can see his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed sobs of his own.

“Are you alright?” Seonghwa’s soft inquiry draws your attention to him once more.

You look down at yourself, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Carefully, you raise your hands to your stomach, not feeling the warmth of fresh blood upon your skin as you do so.

You stare at your hands, touching your fingers to your thumbs to ground yourself.

Turning your head after a moment, you meet his gaze. Then, you’re nodding slowly.

A blink, and Wooyoung is kneeling beside Seonghwa, tears streaming down his face freely as he reaches for you.

“I’m so sorry-“

Seonghwa smacks his hands away. “I told you to wait for me.”

Wooyoung ignores him for the time being in order to reach for you again, choking on a sob.

You flinch, and his expression falls.

“Please,” his hands shake, water droplets endlessly falling from his soaked hair and onto the porch beneath all of you. “Please believe me.”

“Wooyoung-“ Seonghwa’s stern voice gets cut off.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Wooyoung’s voice cracks, and more sobs wrack his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

You can only stare down at your hands in response.

Seonghwa watches you carefully. You can feel his eyes on you as you steady your breathing, and Wooyoung continues to apologize profusely.

“Can you both please leave?” Your soft tone manages to catch their attention.

The way Wooyoung’s breath hitches does not go unnoticed by you.

“Do you need help-“

“No.” You cut Seonghwa off, squeezing your eyes shut as you curl in on yourself. “Please.”

The second you blink your eyes open, you’re greeted with an empty porch. The only sounds that surround you are the pouring rain, and your muffled sobs as you break down, cold and alone, just outside of your front door.

***

You manage to avoid them for three whole days. For three whole days, you see no sight, nor hear no sound of them, even when you pop out to the store for some groceries.

Gaby invites you out for coffee, and this time, you accept. Of course, you know it’s more likely that you’ll run into them while you’re with her, but the past three times she’s asked, you’ve declined her offer. She’s been nothing but kind since you bumped into her that fateful day, always messaging you to make sure you’re alight. She checks up on you, and you’ve found a good friend in her.

Ever since the town learned of the vicious animal attack that claimed the lives of Ryder and his gang of misfits, there’s almost been an air of ease that’s settled over the town. People are more talkative. His parents are moving away, meaning there’s going to be a change in the head officer running this division of law enforcers. Plus, it’s as if the sun is shining a little brighter without the fear of Ryder running rampant on unsuspecting townsfolk.

Which is why Gaby doesn’t understand why you’re cooped up inside all the time. A fact of which she expresses to you while sitting at the little table by the window.

“I’ve just been busy.” You brush the question off like usual, all too aware of the two sets of ears more than likely listening in on your conversation from across the shop.

Yeosang and Jongho haven’t bothered to approach you at all, but even you can feel the glances they keep sending your way out of the corner of their eyes. They’re respectful, but still aware of your every move despite acting as if your presence mere feet away doesn’t affect them.

You manage to survive the outing without a single word from them, and for that, you’re grateful. At least some of them seem to be attempting to respect your boundaries.

Then, on the fourth day, you get a surprise visitor.

It’s late at night when your phone pings with a new message. It’s your best, and closest, friend from university, Sungwoo, asking if you’re still up.

The moment you reply with a ‘yes’, a knock sounds at your front door.

Hesitantly, you walk over, peeking out of the little window to see your best friend with tears streaming down his face as he stands there. His car is parked in the driveway, and his sweater is on backwards, hair disheveled.

Immediately, you swing the door open, catching the sobbing man as he falls into your arms.

“He kicked me out.” He cries into your neck, holding onto your form for dear life. “After I confronted him about cheating, he kicked me out.”

“Oh, baby,” you gently card your fingers through his hair. “Let’s get you inside.”

Ten minutes later, and with warm mugs of tea in both of your hands, you’ve managed to calm him down enough to get him to tell you what’s going on. You listen intently, nodding along to his words and chiming in here and there. Apparently his partner, Jungwon, has been seeing other people the whole time they’ve been living together.

“Oh, Sunny,” your expression falls. “I’m so sorry. No one don’t deserves that.”

He shakes his head, taking another sip of his tea. “I’m sorry for intruding so late, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

His parents live out of town, and you’re the closest person he knows that lives nearby.

“I’m just glad my parents aren’t here.” You smile lightly. “My dad probably would not have been too happy about being woken up at one in the morning. You’re just lucky I usually stay up so late.”

“He wouldn’t be able to stay mad at his favourite person for long.” He cracks a smile.

“There he is,” you tilt your mug in acknowledgment. “There’s the Sungwoo I know and love.”

“Just a bit beaten down.” His gaze drops to the mug in his lap.

“Hey, it won’t always be like this.” You reach over to squeeze his arm gently.

“No.” He glances up at you. “It won’t.”

“So, obviously you’re staying for a couple days.” You say, standing from the couch. “I’ll go get the guest room ready.”

However, before you can exit the living room, his voice has you halting in your tracks.

“Do you remember that one night I snuck into your apartment after a bad date to find you crying?” His tone is soft, the inquiry nothing more than a gentle caress as he glances up into your eyes once more.

It was the night you told him about Ryder and everything that happened to you. The night your friendship truly became what it is today.

“You want to sleep with me in my room tonight?” The question you pose is tender, nothing but understanding in your tone.

You swear you hear the faintest of growls come from outside, but your brush it off as the wind. Besides, Sungwoo’s eager nod serves to distract you as you focus on making sure your best friend is taken care of for the time being.

Extending your arm out, you offer him your hand.

Carefully, he takes it in his own, allowing you to guide him upstairs after dropping off your mugs in the sink, and turning off all of the lights. You let him borrow a pair of your father’s sweats, grabbing him all he needs to get ready for bed. Ten minutes later, and you’re both crawling beneath your covers.

His head rests on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you softly converse. Your fingers card gently through his hair, and before either of you two know it, you’re both out like lights, soft snores falling from Sungwoo’s lips.

The next day is spent driving back to Sungwoo’s place for him to grab most of his things. He drives, and you do your due diligence and stare scrutinizingly at his now ex-boyfriend the whole time.

You grab ice cream on your way home from the little corner store, eating it on the front porch while sitting on the swing. Sungwoo’s head rests on your shoulder as you gently rock yourselves back and forth, reminiscing about university and laughing together. Seems you both needed the distraction.

Two more days are spent helping Sungwoo through this rough patch, going so far as to help him start searching for places in the area he can move into. So far, there’s a few small apartments for rent, but the first place you checked out had a mold problem, and the other already had someone else interested in it first.

“Hey, what about this one? Until you can find something else?” You turn your laptop screen towards him.

Leaning over the kitchen table which you two just so happen to be sitting at, Sungwoo pulls your laptop closer to him. Carefully, he scrolls through the listing for a loft right above the town’s most popular bakery. It seems to be in good condition, and from how new the listing is, you know that it might go fast.

“Looks good,” he nods, clicking on the ‘more information’ tab. “Might go insane from the smell of bread, though.”

“Like you would be complaining.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Complaining I can’t eat all of it, yeah.” He snorts while looking into booking a viewing. “Oh shit! There’s a time available for today!”

“Is there?” Your whole demeanour perks up.

“What time is it now?” His eyes flit around your screen.

You check your phone. “Just after five, why?”

“Okay, the viewing is for six. That gives me just enough time to shower and head over.” He nods to himself.

“I would come with you, but I’ve got to finish this report for my boss by tonight.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair.

“That’s okay! I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.” He puffs out his chest dramatically.

“Says the one terrified of butterflies.” You mutter.

“They drink tears straight out of live crocodiles and turtles.” He states, matter of factly. “And they drink blood, too. Tell me that’s not terrifying.”

You shrug, chuckling all the while. “Go get ready, Sun, before you’re too late.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” He playfully salutes you before running upstairs to take a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, and with his hair still damp, he’s running back into the kitchen. A tender kiss is placed onto your temple as you work, and you turn towards him just as he begins to walk back out of the kitchen.

“I’ll pick up something for us to eat for dinner on my way home, maybe stop off to get some groceries, too.” He tells you while slipping on his shoes. “I’ll text you after the viewing what I decide to do.”

“Okay,” you smile, waving him off. “See you later!”

“You’re the best!” You hear him call out.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laugh, waving him off. “Love you, too.”

The door falling shut is the last you hear from him.

In fact, it’s the last sound you hear from him for four hours.

So consumed by your work, you turned your phone on silent and hadn’t bothered to check it at all before submitting your report. Glancing at the time, you see it’s a little over nine-thirty in the evening. Sungwoo texted you earlier on, saying he really liked the place, and agreed to renting it for the next little bit. Afterwards, he told you that he’d be heading to the store, and should be back within an hour. 

That was about three hours ago.

Fear spikes inside of you, and your first thought is that Ryder has done something to him to get to you. 

Then, you remember: Ryder and his goons cannot hurt you anymore.

Your heart stops, thinking the worst.

Perhaps you’re just overreacting. Maybe Sungwoo ran into an old friend while at the grocery store and got to talking. Maybe they went out for drinks, or something.

So, you text him.

Five minutes go by with no answer, so you decide to call. It goes straight to voicemail.

Panic seizes you, your brow furrowed in worry as you begin to pace in front of the kitchen table. 

Something is definitely wrong. It’s not like Sungwoo to ignore you, or turn his phone off. Something has definitely happened to him while he’s been out, and you haven’t the slightest clue what it could be.

A knock sounds at your door.

Your heart skips a beat as the noise startles you out of your thoughts. You hope beyond everything that it’s Sungwoo just trying to be an ass and scare you, but alas, you know that it’s probably too good to be true.

Three familiar faces greet you behind the door, looks of concern on all of them.

Your brow furrows, “Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho, what are you all doing here? I thought I told you to-“

“Hongjoong has Sungwoo.” Seonghwa cuts you off almost immediately.

“Excuse me?” You blink at him in mild shock.

“We need to hurry, there’s no time-“

“Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?” Your brow creases, arms crossing over your chest as you cut Jongho off.

“The others are with him.” Yeosang adds, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. “They helped him take Sungwoo.”

Your mind blanks, swallowing thickly. “What are they planning to do to him?”

“We can explain on the way.” Seonghwa motions to a black car parked alongside the curb with his head. “Mingi’s already attempting to stop them on his own.”

“Why should I trust you?” You meet his gaze, noticing how the other two behind him keep glancing between you and the back of Seonghwa’s head.

“Have we given you any reason not to?” He counters, a slight grimace to his features.

“If you don’t believe us, just call him.” Yeosang motions to your phone still held in your hand.

“I tried calling Sungwoo, but his phone is turned off.” You uncross your arms, looking down at your phone.

“Not Sungwoo,” Jongho shakes his head. “Hongjoong.”

Your eyes narrow the slightest bit at the three vampires before you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Seonghwa pulls out his own phone, opening up the messages app to show you a series of text between him and Hongjoong.

Seems as if the eldest has been against this plan from the start, but the younger had been adamant on going through with it.

You whole body stills, and your hands begin to shake.

“What’s his number?” Your voice is low as you prepare to make the call.

“Don’t you have it?” Jongho’s brow furrows.

“I tend to delete call logs of numbers I don’t particularly like.” Your eyes dart to the youngest across from you.

A moment later, Seonghwa is clicking into Hongjoong’s contact information. Once his number is on the screen, he turns it back to face you.

You dial the number.

The sound of the call beginning to ring through is synonymous with you motioning to that black car with your chin. Luckily, they take the hint, and in two more rings, you’ve slipped outside after grabbing your keys and locking the front door.

You hear the ringing suddenly cut out, signifying someone has answered the call.

You hold your breath.

“Hello, My Treasure.” A pleasant hum is heard through the line. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Three vampires spare fleeting glances in your direction as you approach the car.

“What have you done with Sungwoo?” Surprisingly, your voice comes out much stronger than you thought it would.

“So, now you wish to speak with me?” His voice holds nothing but incredulous disbelief. “When the life of a useless, pathetic mortal is at risk?”

Your heart pangs as you slide into the backseat beside Jongho. Your assumptions about him seem to be correct.

“Careful with your words, asshole,” you spit, a frown marring your features. “I’m still human, too.”

“You know I never count you when I say things like that, right, Treasure?”

“Where’s Sungwoo?” You choose to ignore his claim for now. “What have you done to my best friend.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of your affections for him.” Hongjoong all but growls through the phone. “Are you quite sure he feels the same?”

“Enlighten me.” You hiss out through clenched teeth.

“You seem awfully attached to him.” Hongjoong hums. “Would be a shame if something awful happened to him.”

“I swear to god, Hongjoong, if you hurt him-“

“Oh, no, Treasure, God can’t save him now.”

The phone slips from your hand. Already, your mind is supplying you with the worst case scenarios, whole body beginning to shake as your throat tightens up.

You don’t even register how quickly Jongho reaches out to catch your phone, nor the way he seems to be cursing at the elder male through the line while sitting beside you. A blink, and your phone is in Yeosang’s hands as Seonghwa continues to speed down the streets, racing to a location unbeknownst to you. 

Gently, Jongho reaches over to begin comforting you, attempting to calm you down while hesitating to touch you. Seonghwa told them all what happened when Wooyoung touched your stomach from behind, and now he’s scared touching anywhere on your body in this state might set you off again.

Then again, Yunho did cradle you in his arms that night all those weeks ago when they found your body on the side of the road.

It is with that thought that Jongho places a tender hand onto your shoulder.

“Why is he doing this?” Your voice is small as you stare at your hands, touching your fingers to your thumbs meticulously.

Glancing up, you see that Yeosang must have ended the call.

“He- they are all jealous.” Seonghwa briefly meets your gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Of Sungwoo?” Your brow furrows. Then, something is clicking in your mind as you see them all nod. “How do you all know about Sungwoo?”

The three of them stiffen.

Briefly, your eyes dart over each of them individually.

“Oh my god, you’ve been stalking me?” Again, your hands begin to shake.

“We prefer the term ‘watching over’.” Jongho mumbles, retracting his hand once you shrug it off of your shoulder.

Suddenly, you find the interior of the car to be stifling.

“How long?” Your hands ball into fists in your lap.

“I don’t think you want to know the answer to that right now.” Yeosang voices lowly, avoiding your gaze by staring straight forward.

Your phone rests on the console between the front two seats. Quickly, you grab it, holding onto it for dear life.

“This… bond we told you about,” Seonghwa begins, “it affects us all differently. Some of us have also been hoping for something like this to occur for so long, that the fear of rejection never really crossed our minds.”

“That’s not to mention our kind is fiercely protective over the things we care about without the bond enhancing those feelings towards you.” Yeosang adds, shifting slightly in the front seat.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is possessive.” Jongho sighs, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments.

You shift the slightest bit away from him, a fact which the two sitting in the front immediately notice.

“And you three are unaffected?” You inquire.

“We see reason.” Jongho’s eyes blink open, his expression falling as he sees you having shifted the slightest bit away from him.

“We won’t lie and say that we don’t care for you,” Yeosang says, a brief, tight upturn of his lips as he glances in your direction. “However, we understand that this is a lot for you, and that you don’t know us well. There are bound to be doubts and uncertainties that you have, and that’s not even taking into account what we are.”

“So, you’re all just better at hiding your jealousy.” A statement, not a question.

“We’re better at controlling it.” Seonghwa chimes in, turning down a dark stretch of road with trees surrounding either side.

“Hongjoong has been waiting and wishing for you probably the longest out of all of us. Well, probably besides Yunho.” Jongho tells you. “The bond is making him act on instinct; his darker impulses.”

You curl in on yourself more. “I don’t like the implications of that.”

“We’re normally pretty good at controlling ourselves.” Yeosang adds lowly. “It’s just you that makes us into anomalies.”

“Gee, that makes me feel loads better.” You nearly scoff.

“I don’t necessarily mean it in a bad way.” He turns his head to look at you.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You sigh.

“You’re scared of us?” It’s Jongho’s timid voice that cuts through the sudden silence in the car like a knife.

You heave another tremendous sigh. “Not necessarily.”

“Then, why do you keep avoiding us?” There is pain held within Yeosang’s eyes. “Why do you keep pushing us away?”

You purse your lips. “Now is not the time for this.”

Sure enough, the car breaks through the trees, swerving on the path to reveal a small cemetery up ahead. 

Seonghwa speeds up.

Through the darkness, you can just make out five figures milling about. As you get closer, you see a sixth one on his knees between them all.

The car comes to a screeching halt, and you practically fling yourself out of the backseat. A terrified shriek escapes you at the state you find Sungwoo to be in, his beaten and bloody body covered in gashes and dirt.

You spot the bat in Hongjoong’s hand, the metal iron pikes glinting in the moonlight as he rests it over his shoulder. You think you’d be less terrified if the bat housed spikes instead of those solid metal protrusions lining the sides. Hell only knows what Sungwoo has already suffered through this evening.

Tears line your eyes as you attempt to run over to Sungwoo, your heart pounding in your chest. Only, you don’t get very far, Mingi grabbing your arms and holding you back before you can get too close. Even Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho get held back by the other three at Hongjoong’s command, curses flying between all of them as you scream for them to end this madness.

Sungwoo collapses on the ground.

“Pathetic.” Hongjoong clicks his tongue. “Weak ass human can’t even handle a few blows.”

“What have you done?” Your voice is frantic, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you look between him and Sungwoo’s tattered and bruised form.

“I’m simply teaching this rat a lesson for touching what isn’t his.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash maliciously beneath the light of the moon.

Your heart stops, dread flooding your veins. As you are being held back by Mingi, your whole body begins to shake.

“You think you own me.” Your words are but a whisper on the wind, but it causes the entire cemetery to suddenly become eerily quiet. “You believe I belong to you.”

Something in Hongjoong’s facade cracks, and his demeanour shifts only briefly. “No-“

“You just said it yourself.” Your hands are clenched into fists despite Mingi holding you back by your arms. “You don’t view me as a person. You view me as an object to be owned.”

The others remain deadly silent, watching this interaction with bated breath.

“That’s not true, and you know it.” He frowns.

“No. I don’t know.” You spit harshly. “That’s the whole fucking point! I don’t know you, and you don’t know me!”

“But, you love him.” Hongjoong’s eyes dart down to the male bleeding out at the ground at his feet.

A few displeased growls echo around the tombstones surrounding you.

“He is my best friend!” You’re near hysterics at this point. “Of fucking course I love him!”

More growls sound around you.

Hongjoong’s hand holding onto the bat begins to tremble. “I can’t let him live knowing he’s touched you.”

“You know?” Your head falls forward in disbelief. “You know?”

“Of course I know!” Hongjoong’s anger is barely contained, his own body beginning to shake in rage. “How could I not recognize when filth sleeps with My Treasure?”

You go silent, clamping your lips shut as you feel Mingi’s hands tighten around you from Hongjoong’s words. It’s starting to make sense to you.

“You think we’ve slept together.” You state.

“I know you have.” Hongjoong glares unforgivingly down at the man splayed out at his feet in the dirt.

“Right, because you’ve all been stalking me.” You nod your understanding. “But no, that’s not what I meant.”

Hongjoong lifts his gaze.

“You think we’ve fucked.”

His resounding growl, and the several others you hear around you, are answer enough.

“You haven’t?” It’s Wooyoung who asks, genuine surprise coating his words.

“Maybe we have, and maybe we haven’t.” You reply. “Either way, it is none of your goddamn business. I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything.”

“You don’t understand-“ San begins to say, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Then, help me to understand, because right now you are all breaking your promise to me.” Your pain filled eyes look around the small circle of gathered males. “I thought you said you would never hurt me.”

Wooyoung visibly flinches at your words, loosening his grip on Yeosang the slightest bit. Even Mingi’s grip no longer feels as tight against your own arms.

“I have to do this.” Hongjoong steels his resolve, despite the way his voice wavers. “I can’t let him interfere.”

“With what, Hongjoong?” You shout. “There is nothing between us. You doing this guarantees nothing will ever happen between us.”

“You don’t mean that.” It’s Mingi’s hurt tone that you hear softly from behind you.

“Are you going to hunt everyone I’ve ever slept with? Is that how this is going to work?” Your chest is heaving. “You don’t even know if I’ve slept with anyone, but you’re so adamant on killing my best friend simply off of a baseless claim. You might as well slaughter the entire town.”

“You already think us monsters anyways.” Hongjoong mutters, turning his head away from you.

“There is only one man I ever considered a monster.” Your voice is deadly calm. “I never thought you would stoop low enough to join him.”

“Then, why have you been avoiding us?” Hongjoong’s voice practically shakes the whole area as he rounds on you, the tip of the bat sinking into the mud as it falls from his shoulder.

“Because knowing the only reason you all started talking to me in the first place is due to some stupid magical bond that told you I’m your fated mate, or whatever, fucking hurts, okay?” Your tears have returned, falling freely down your cheeks as your chest heaves. “The only thing worse would be if you told me I was some reincarnation of your long lost love, or something ridiculous like that.”

The cemetery goes so silent, you swear the earth has stood still.

“You’ve been avoiding us this whole time because you think we wouldn’t want you if we weren’t fated to each other?” Yunho finally speaks, hands falling limply to his sides as Seonghwa, who he had been holding back, can only stand there, just as stunned as all of the rest of them.

“You only saved me that night because of the bond.” You attempt to swallow your building emotions, but you end up choking on a sob. “You all only care because of this stupid bond.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” Yeosang shakes his head.

“It’s it, though?” You laugh bitterly. “Tell me, then. Honestly. If I were anyone else, and you had found me on the side of the road like that, bleeding out and on the brink of death, would you have stopped to help?”

If their silence didn’t already speak volumes, the way the majority of them avert their gazes says it all.

“All my life, I had hoped- I had dreamed of finding a soulmate, of them being real.” You voice falters as you bottom lip trembles. “After the shit I went through with Ryder, I just wanted someone to love me with all of my scars, unconditionally. Then I realized, it could never be real love if it was all based on some stupid bond, telling them that they had to love me. I don’t deserve to have that doubt always held within me. You don’t deserve that, either.”

You can tell a few of them have started crying along with you, tears streaming down Wooyoung’s, San’s, Jongho’s, and Seonghwa’s faces. Even both Yeosang and Hongjoong look close to breaking, and at the first drop of wetness you feel land on your arm, you know Mingi is faring no better.

“All of this for a bond that is telling you to want me.” You weep openly, the despair clear on your features. “How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“You-“ Wooyoung hiccups. “You think that we don’t want you?”

“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve just said?” Your voice cracks, turning your broken gaze towards Wooyoung.

“I thought we told you that despite us following the bond, we would never force it upon you.” Yunho reasons.

“Then, what do you call this?” You laugh bitterly once more. “An intervention?”

“We told you that we wanted to get to know you before anything.” Jongho’s voice is small, looking down at the ground as San continues to hold him back from reaching you or Sungwoo for the moment.

“But you insisted on avoiding us.” Hongjoong adds, somewhat bitterly.

“Because a fucking pull brought you to me!” You reply, clearly exasperated. “That’s not a choice, Hongjoong.”

“It was our choice to follow the pull.” Seonghwa surprises you by speaking, his words but a mere whisper on his lips.

“I’m sorry I’m not all I’ve been made out to be.” You say, somewhat bitterly as you look down at the ground.

“You’re better.” Immediately, your head is whipping upwards in Yeosang’s direction, catching his gaze. Your breath hitches as how earnest he looks, his eyes shining with the deepest form of sincerity you’ve ever seen another person give you. “You’re better than anything we could have ever imagined.”

You swallow thickly, your lower lip trembling with the weight of your emotions.

“I wish I could believe you.”

Something within Hongjoong snaps. You see it in the way his whole body twitches, his eyes flashing a deep red as black veins appear beneath them.

“It’s because of him.” That bat gets raised into the air. “He’s stolen you away from us.”

“No, Hongjoong-“ You begin thrashing in Mingi’s grip as you see the crazed gleam in the elder’s eyes.

“Hongjoong, stop this at once!” Seonghwa’s voice commands, ringing out loud and clear throughout the clearing.

Only, before the elder can take so much as a step towards Hongjoong, Yunho has him held back in his grip once more.

“Hongjoong.” Mingi warily calls the man’s name.

“You’re ours.” Hongjoong’s voice boarders on a feral snarl, his hands tightening methodically around the base of the bat as his lips pull back over sharp fangs.

Your eyes go wide as the reality of the situation washed over you: Hongjoong is going to smash Sungwoo’s head in no matter what you do.

Just as you watch the bat begin to swing downwards, you scream.

“No!”

It’s as if the world moves in slow motion. Somehow, you manage to tear free of Mingi’s hold which had grown quite loose, almost as if he had hesitated holding you back any longer. Still, you can feel your arms stinging, sure there are now cuts along your skin from his nails where he had been clinging onto you so desperately.

You throw yourself on top of Sungwoo, covering him with your body as that bat cuts through the air in an almost gentle, mocking arc. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Then, it’s as if the world resumes its normal speed.

You expect to feel pain. Nothing but hot, searing pain. Only, it never comes.

Blinking your eyes open, you look up to see Hongjoong staring down at you in horror. His wide eyes have no shortage of tears as he meets your gaze, standing frozen in his spot with the bat hovering right above your head.

A drop of blood lands on your face.

Shifting your gaze, you see Mingi holding that bat, a spire of iron mere millimetres from your face.

Tremendous roars reach your ears: some of pure fury, others of horror, and a few in desperation. The very resonance of such sounds causes the earth to tremble beneath you, a flock of birds taking off suddenly into the night sky.

A blink, and Hongjoong is being dragged back by five males, all of whom tear him away from you and that bat still held in Mingi’s grip. Snarls reach your ears as both Yeosang and Seonghwa pin him to the ground, Wooyoung, Jongho, and Yunho all standing over his trembling form.

Then, Yunho manages to calm himself enough to turn towards you.

He meets your gaze. “How did you do that?”

There’s a bitter furrow to your brow, “Do what?”

San is beside you in an instant, checking you over for injuries as Mingi tosses the bat to the side.

“Don’t help me, heal him.” You push the vampire off of you, motioning to Sungwoo with your chin.

You notice the way San hesitates.

Mingi doesn’t.

***

Gently, you cradle Sungwoo in your arms, brushing his hair back from his face after Mingi has fed him some of his blood. Slowly, you can already see some of Sungwoo’s injuries mending themselves, the cuts closing and bruises healing.

You turn your tearstained face towards the eight men now kneeling across from you.

“You’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen good and proper.” None of them have ever heard you use such a dark tone before, but from your expression alone, they can tell just how furious you are right now. “I don’t care who they are, but if you ever touch another person that I care about, if you ever hurt any of them, especially him,” you grip tightens around Sungwoo in your arms, “I will never forgive you, and you will never see me again. Do I make myself clear?”

A chorus of low ‘yes’s greet your ears.

“You want me to like you, but all this has done is make me despise the four of you.” You seethe, pure fury lighting behind your irises.

They all squirm beneath your intense gaze.

“Wait, four?” Wooyoung’s brow furrows.

You look from him, to Yunho, to San, and then finally, to Hongjoong, of whom you hold gazes with the longest.

“I don’t trust any of you after this.” Pointed glares are sent to the former four by the others you haven’t singled out. “And I don’t know if that can ever be rebuilt.”

“You weren’t going to give us a chance, anyways.” San grumbles, fingers sinking into the dirt by his legs.

You choose to not respond to his bitter comment right now.

“When he finally regains consciousness,” you motion down to Sungwoo with your head, “One of you is going to compel him to forget this ever happened. You are going to get your heads out of your fucking asses, pull up your big boy pants, and leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you after this. You may have saved my life once before, but all this has proven is that none of you are ready for a commitment like this.”

Hongjoong goes to protest.

“You let your insecurities and jealousy control you! How could I ever want that?” You round on him. “I’ve already dealt with one abusive asshole, I don’t need another.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.” You scoff, soon shifting your gaze to meet Seonghwa’s own. You stand back to your feet. “Now, Take me home.”

[mynotsohealthyobsession]

Hello @mynotsohealthyobsession , I hope you're doing well. I really enjoy your fanfics and have a fic request for you (since I have no idea how to write it myself but I believe you can do it!):

A fic similar to the Choices Book "The Princess Swap" where your Bloodbound MC, Amy (business woman and/or vampire) swaps roles (or the other way around) with Nightbound MC (hunting partner and/or future fae duchess).

Pairings: Amy(F!MC)×Adrian & Alex(F!MC)×Nik

ONLY IF YOU WANT: EXTRA: If possible, you could add pets too just like the characters in Barbie movies had when they swapped roles. I know your BB MC loves dogs and I don't know about your NB MC, but she has a perrikin. Maybe she is a cat person and have a cat. Also very interesting, dog person vs. cat person?! Or Adrian Raines vs. Nik Ryder.

I mean, in my opinion, both MCs do have a few similarities like discovering Supernatural World, having family secrets, four LIs and they both have died once. You know.

Hi darling! Thanks for the request! This isn't exactly what you ask for, but I hope you enjoy it!

Disembodied - Part 1 / 8

Warning: Mention of death // Angst // Fluff

Pairings: Adrian Raines X MC // Nik Ryder X MC

Words: 1.515

As always, tags in the reblog!

•••

Amy felt her body was heavy and different. Funny. She always thought that it was the opposite when you die. Slowly, her senses started to wake up. She heard people shouting around her and the clear sounds of a fight. Was Gaius still alive? She forced her eyes open and the light dazed her. After a few seconds, she realized it was the sun. She looked around, panicked. "Adrian?" Amy asked, scared to find ashes but instead noticing a city that clearly wasn't New York. "Guys?"

With wobbling legs she stood, frozen when she was her reflection in the shop window in front of her.

This obviously was a nightmare. She clearly has died and, for some reason, she was in hell. These weren't her hands. Nor her face. And she definitely didn't have gray hair. These leather clothes, with the front soaked in blood, weren't her clothes. She turned to see a blonde guy fighting with a creature she had never seen in her life.

"Nik! Watch it!" Amy turned to a familiar figure running to the stranger. She had only seen him once in Vegas but that was definitely Cal, the werewolf. The fight kept going but the pale creature seemed too strong. Suddenly, it turned its ugly face to her.

"Shit!" Before she could react, it rapidly ran to her.

"Alex! No!" The blonde guy, both shocked and what seemed scared, shot arrow after arrow, following it. "Run!" But it was impossible, the creature was too fast. Amy covered her face with her arms and, to her shock, she heard a pained scream from the other side. The creature was whining with a huge wound on its side.

"That power…" Said a tall girl with smoking hands.

"Alex! Do it again!" Amy nodded at Cal's words unsure, sending her hands forward, praying for a miracle. Her palms expelled a bright strong magic that sent the creature flying up, tearing it apart, until it fell, dead. Amy fell to her knees, exhausted.

"Alex!" Nik, as Cal had called him, ran to her, dropping his weapon and kneeling to observe her. "Are you okay, Rook? What happened to your wound?"

"I think I'm fine." Her voice sounded so strange to her.

"You think you are fine?!" He seemed irritated.

"She might be still in a daze, Ryder. Let her be." A second girl said.

"I just want to know if she is okay, Katy." He looked intensely into her eyes and Amy missed Adrian's stare. She hoped that he and the rest of the gang were okay. "For god's sake, Alex! He stabbed you in the chest with his hand! You fucking died!" She felt her throat dry. She had been stabbed, yes, but with a sword. By Gaius.

***

"Amy! Stop!" Alex heard a male voice screaming but she couldn't focus on the words. She was so hungry, and that woman's blood smelled so delicious. "Amy!" A strong hand seized her wrist, stopping her. A pair of blue eyes that weren't Nik's observed her face with awe. "You are alive." The tall man smiled. "Amy, you are alive."

"I'm not–" But before she couldn't finish, the world turned black.

"So you found her in Central Park, Raines?"

"Yes. She was about to attack a wounded woman. When I stopped her, she didn't seem to recognize me."

"She's probably still adjusting. It's been four days after all."

The voices sounded around her but she didn't recognize any of them. Alex felt strange… different. The last thing she remembered was Thomas' hand piercing open her chest, killing her. Alex opened her eyes and four unknown faces looked at her with concern.

"Oh my god!" The girl with glasses ran to her, tightly hugging her. She pushed the woman away, standing up.

"Lily, give her space." A woman with a stern gesture said.

"Amy, are you alright?" The tall man wearing a suit asked, looking concerned. She didn't answer, her eyes studied the space she was in. It was an elegant office, with a huge closed window. She rushed to it, opening the curtains.

"Oh my god…" She didn't know how but she wasn't in New Orleans anymore. Instead, a smoking New York was in front of her. "This can't be happening." She said, furrowing at the different voice that came from her mouth.

"Amy?"

"This is a nightmare," Alex whispered.

"I know how much you love New York, Amy. I wish you hadn't seen it like this." Alex didn't turn, now looking at her reflection in the window. A long-haired woman looked back at her. She moved like her but her features were unknown. Alex extended her hand towards the glass and so did the other woman. A hand on her shoulder, even gentle as his, made her flinch. "My apologies."

"It's fine."

"I'm sorry to ask this, but could you give us a moment of privacy?"

"Of course. Jax, Lily, come on." The other two headed to the door. "Don't forget about the meeting, Adrian."

"I know." She felt nervous, even though the man was watching her with concern and fondness. "Amy, are you aware of what is happening?"

"Not completely." He leaned against the desk.

"That night, in the Met… You were dying. And, as I held you, I made a decision." Adrian sighed guiltily. "I turned you."

"Yo-You turn me?"

"You are a vampire, Amy. Just like Lily, Jax, Kamilah, and me."

***

"Come on, come on. Please work." Amy pressed and held the power button on the phone again, expected but the screen remained black and broken. "Damn it!" She threw it against the wall, frustrated. Amy sat on the edge of the sofa in, from what she understood, was Nik's apartment, where this Alex girl was staying. Amy had found the phone in her jacket. She intended to call her own cell and see what happened. It was a long shot but, If she was in Alex's body, could Alex be in hers? Unfortunately, she couldn't confirm or deny that theory at the moment.

She didn't want to ask for a cell phone and respond to questions she might not have an answer for.

For the moment she had decided to play along. It was better that they thought she was Alex instead of saying that someone else was in Alex's body and everybody thought she had lost her mind. Even though she already was thinking that.

She closed her eyes and her mind returned to Adrian and the Met. She could see his face, contracted with sorrow, as he held her. 'And I lo–' Was he saying that he loves her? She missed him and was scared of what was happening. Her eyes burned with tears that slowly rolled down her cheeks and she allowed herself to sink into the moment for a little.

"Alex?" Nik's voice cut the silence as he walked through the front door. He had left her to change her clothes.

"Yeah?" Amy quickly dried the tears away, composing herself.

"The gang is waiting for you to start the celebration." Nik walked to her, sitting beside her. She unintentionally tensed. "Before we head downstairs, I…" He scratched the back of his neck. "You know I'm not good at this."

"This?" Amy asked, confused.

"This. Talking and… Feelings." He cleared his throat. "About what happened before Thomas' attack, I–"

"Nik." Amy cut him off, "It's been a long and... Extremely weird day. Can we talk another time? Please?"

"Sure, Rook. C'mon, let's get you a drink." He stood and went to the door with Amy following him. Whatever he was about to say, she wasn't the person it was meant for. And, honestly, there was only one man she had feelings for… and she was determined to return to him.

***

"Amy, please say something."

"I…" Alex returned her gaze at the window, looking at her reflection again. It seemed so unreal. "I understand." She honestly did. If someone dear to her were dying, she would definitely do whatever it is in her power to save them. Even turn them into a vampire.

"I know we haven't talked about your turning before but the mere thought of losing you was unbearable for me." Adrian said, deeply looking into her eyes. Alex turned away, scared that, somehow, he noticed it wasn't Amy's soul inside her body. "I'm truly sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Adrian." She forced a smile. "You have a meeting now?" Adrian nodded, still attentively observing her.

"Yes, indeed we do."

"With the rest of the vampires?"

"Not exactly. With Moira Pembrooke, about New York's situation."

"The Secretary of Defense?" Her jaw dropped and Adrian gently smiled.

"Are you interested in participating?"

"Yes!" Adrian chuckled.

"Let's go then." He made a gesture as he wanted to take her hand but, after observing her with a slight furrow between his eyebrows, he just fixed his sleeves in place, walking out of the office with Alex following him. She needed to be cautious. She not only was surrounded by four vampires but powerful people too with connections in the government.

✨

[lieberts]

tagged by @jidai​ and @zenien​ and @dicennio​​ to do these <3 not tagging anyone, but feel free to say i tagged you if you wanna do these

1. MUSIC TAG MEME Rules: Post your first twenty songs in a playlist on shuffle

can’t let you go by adam lambert oh god

the giant’s exit from the majora’s mask ost

sing for absolution by muse

all that we see by the black ryder

offering by black city lights

miss moneypenny by placebo

spusti svetlost na put by kralj čačka

dance of the knights by prokofiev

suspirium by thom yorke

the hills by the weeknd

i don’t like mondays by the boomtown rats

silence by azra

spirit of peace (part 3) by popol vuh

build that wall from the bastion ost

politik by coldplay

jenova from the ffvii ost

akira the wild from the devilman crybaby ost

jazzman by carole king

morning after by ariel pink & weyes blood

modern man by arcade fire

---------

2. Rules: MAKE A NEW POST, bold what applies to you and tag whoever you want to get to know better.

APPEARANCE I’m an I-need-to-pull-the-driver-seat-all-the-way-in kind of a person // i wear glasses or contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing  // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo  // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how I look // I prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backward

HOBBIES & TALENTS i play a sport // i can play an instrument  // i am artistic (ehh??) // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand (kind of...... not for long tho)

RELATIONSHIPS i am in a relationship // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

AESTHETIC i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

MISC i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift  // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least one dog // i have a cat ---------

3. THIS OR THAT TAG GAME (1)

sage green or baby blue | moon or stars | paperback or hardback | piercings or tattoos (neither tbh) | drawing or writing | saturn or jupiter | line without a hook or mr. loverman | ancient greece or ancient egypt | prague or amsterdam | dark academia or light academia | indie aesthetic or cottagecore | stargazing or late night drives | strawberries or watermelons (these are hard wtf both??) | rings or necklaces | extrovert or introvert | dragons or griffins | ocean or mountain | silver or gold | dawn or dusk | creative or free spirit | early bird or night owl | cook or bake | dagger or sword ---------

4. THIS OR THAT TAG GAME (2)

indoor plants or gardens // cloud-watching or star-gazing // water or fire // paperback or hardcover // running or hiking // sleeping with socks or without socks // fruit or vegetables // hanging plants or succulents // dark wood or light wood // handwritten or typed // instagram or pinterest (both suck and are full of reposts but instagram is seriously bad) // braids or pigtails // books or movies // oceans or meadows // forests or fields // sweet or salty // ice cream or chocolate // hoodies or sweaters // long hair or short hair // piercings or tattoos // summer or winter // boots or sneakers // cars or motorcycles // curls or straight hair // castles or cottages // sunny days or storms // reptiles or birds // disney or nickelodeon // strawberries or watermelon // essays or posters // phones or laptops // glass or stone // dark or light // photos or paintings // circuses or theaters // reading or writing // dogs or cats // poetry or novels // monsters or ghosts // thrift shops or libraries // fiction or non-fiction

5. Post one picture from my camera roll (no new downloads) to sum up my personality!

6. 30 QUESTIONS TAG GAME RULES: Answer 30 questions and tag others

Name/Nickname: jeja, jeca, j, lena Gender: female Star Sign: aries Height: in a surprising turn of events im 167cm not 165 as i initially thought <3 Time: 10:30am Birthday: april 10 Favorite Bands: arcade fire, muse, placebo Favorite Solo Artists: hozier, chelsea wolfe, idk Song stuck in my head: vive la fete by noir desir Last Movie: interview with the vampire Last Show: i have no idea i havent finished a tv show in ages tbh When did I create this blog: i think january 2011? jesus What do I post: anime, art, video games Last thing googled: vive la fete by noir desir to see if i spelled it correctly Other blogs: wessobrunn but its inactive Do I get asks: i get bullied by sen a lot Why I chose my url: because i love the liebert twins from naoki urasawas monster<333 Following: 147 Followers: nah Average hours of sleep: like 7-8 hours? Instruments: none What am I wearing: beige sweatpants and a black hoodie fashion icon jelena Dream job: i dont dream of labor Dream trip: japan, asia in general, central europe Favorite food: too many im not a picky eater Nationality: montenegrin (derogatory) Favorite song: BRUH i dont have one fav song there are too many Last book read: mađarska rečenica by andrej nikolaidis  Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: i think it says a lot about the kind of content i consume when i cant think of a single one that would actually be enjoyable to live in...........

[arecomicsevengood]

QUARANTINE MOVIES PART FOUR

It’s wild to watch any movie knowing that none will be made for the foreseeable future, and that the whole collective experience of filmgoing might be dead. I tend to have a certain sad, scared lonely feeling when I contemplate the future at night, and while I attempt to put off by watching movies, it only partly works. Now, more than ever, movies are a larger part of my processing of the world than the ongoing conversations I have with friends.

Smithereens (1982) dir. Susan Seidelman

There is something particularly powerful about movies where people run around, socializing. These things are pretty resonant with my youth, but “youth” in this broad sense that just means “the before times,” because if there’s anything quarantine is bringing home it’s the importance of a form of adulthood based around domestic partnerships with someone you like and having “real jobs” that can translate to telecommuting. Of course, socializing of the sort no longer allowed is really useful, and shouldn’t be written off as youthful frivolity. Smithereens is not a particularly romantic movie: While it might be famous for being “punk” in a “cool” way, documenting young New York nightlife in a way where David Wojnarowicz’s band 3 Teens Kill 4 is on a club’s marquee, it’s really about young people as these sort of upwardly-mobile opportunists with no real talent trying to exploit one another for a mixture of sex and social clout, and ignoring those who are not actively useful to them. It’s a useful document of people being shitty where the appeal now is how cool they look, and it’s interesting to watch in this moment where I’m worried that the whole idea of community will be lost very soon, in a way we won’t even be able to articulate. We’ll all be scrambling for jobs and security but everything will be further hollowed out, and we’ll be left with an even more vicious and dog-eat-dog citizenry. So a movie like this has nostalgic appealing, but by depicting the seeds of what will only become more widespread problems, it avoids feeling dated or idealistic.

Gloria (1980) dir. John Cassavetes

Oh shit this movie rules! I was under the impression I disliked Cassavetes, based on the others I had seen, and watching the first twenty-odd minutes reminded me of why: Sort of circular conversations, involving a lot of people being upset with one another. But this ends up feeling more like a movie, and less like a play. Once Gena Rowlands kills a carful of people I was completely on board. She’s great in this, playing opposite a child, who is also amazing in it, tons of dialogue that should be quotable: “You’re not my mother, my mother was beautiful” being but one amazing bit of poetry. Both extremely cute and extremely badass from moment to moment, the parts of this movie are in tension with one another where it also feels like it’s going from strength to strength, and ever scene, every moment, is great. Incredible music, and also great documentation of a world that doesn’t exist anymore, of telephone booths, smoking sections, and places that’ll develop photos for you. Highest possible recommendation.

The Naked City (1948) dir. Jules Dassin

Seemingly the first movie to be shot on location throughout New York, rather than studio backlots, and it milks the city for all its worth, shifting frequently from one location to another, introducing to new characters. Initially guided by omniscient narration but quickly focusing to become a police procedural. I knew Dassin from Rififi but this feels more exciting, I would gladly watch movies bite the techniques from this every few decades, though Gloria does a good job of moving through the streets of New York in a less-contrived way. There was a Naked City TV show ten years later, shot on location and focusing on a police precinct.

Near Dark (1987) dir. Kathryn Bigelow

I consider this Kathryn Bigelow’s best movie, but circumstances have not led me to watch it as many times as I’ve seen Point Break, so the memories I’ve retained of it were kind of inaccurate: Specifically, the thing I thought of as the climax, the part at the hotel where light is getting shot through the blankets taped up to cover windows, happens like halfway through. Screenwriter Eric Red wrote this at the same time as he wrote The Hitcher, and that’s another one that just GOES, moving from one scene to another where they all have this climactic intensity constantly but the scale is shifting of what you’re invested in? The Hitcher is a nightmare and this is more of an action movie. People point out this movie has a bunch of the cast from Aliens but I didn’t realize there’s a shot where Aliens is actually on the marquee of a theater. I also wonder if this whole horror/action/western/but with vampires thing was an inspiration to Garth Ennis? I kinda feel like the pacing I find so powerful could not really be sustained over the length of an extended comic run.

Hero (1992) dir. Stephen Frears

Dustin Hoffman plays a criminal schlub, doing a weird voice. It’s almost like he was told that the role was written for Sylvester Stallone, but Stallone’s insistence on getting a writing credit on every movie he acts in complicated the premise in a weird way, so Hoffman just attempts a Stallone impression. One of his few redeeming characteristics is he’s a loving father, but that isn’t why he’ll remind you of your dad. Maybe most men are just Dustin Hoffman doing impersonations of Sylvester Stallone! From 1992, so Hoffman’s I guess in a post-Rain-Man mode, but the film also feels very early nineties in its commentary on television news turning stories into celebrities, and an analysis of the problems with professional cynicism that seem very much of their time. It’s not like a more sophisticated critique has found its way into any mainstream film I can think of, we’ve just stopped thinking about these issues, as they’ve become much worse. Joan Cusack’s good as his Hoffman’s ex-wife, and Susie Cusack’s good as his lawyer. I would like to see Susie Cusack in more things! Geena Davis plays a television reporter, Andy Garcia plays a decent guy who is a contrast to Hoffman, there’s also small roles for the likes of Stephen Tobolowsky and Tom Arnold, really placing this in a moment of time.

The Age Of Innocence (1993) dir. Martin Scorsese

I didn’t like this one, for all the obvious reasons: I don’t like costume dramas about rich people, and I don’t like Daniel Day-Lewis. It’s an Edith Wharton adaptation, all about a world of well-mannered old money with very rigidly defined rules of behavior. Michelle Pfeiffer plays the true love Day-Lewis is kept from by the mores of the day, and part of her romantic appeal is she’s able to see through the rituals and make fun of them, while Winona Ryder fully buys into them, and thus reaps the benefits. Everything is repressed, all behavior is affect, this is of course the point but very much not my thing. There’s also a lot of a narrator reading the text of the book while the camerawork fades between lavishly composed image, while the cinematography probably looked great on a big screen I would still be very anxious about getting to the storytelling.

Experiment In Terror (1962) dir. Blake Edwards

This one starts off super-intensely, with a home invasion scene, the sense of horror in this is palpable but the fear is just used as this blackmail structure for some noir stuff? It straggles the genre line pretty well, feeling weird because of this horror energy of sheer creeping malevolence defines it. This is also considerably longer than most of the other film noir I’ve watched recently, because those moments extend and take away from the sense of a building plot, to instead feel like they might derail it. Lee Remick is the lead, and she is this terrified victim, which makes the film more interesting than if it were focused on the cop played by Glenn Ford. The main character’s younger sister gets kidnapped at one point, it gets creepy. The climax occurs at a end of a crowded baseball game, and there’s shots that I assume were done via helicopter, which seems like it would’ve upped the budget considerably.

The Harder They Fall (1956) dir. Mark Robson

Humphrey Bogart stars as a former sports writer, working to drum up publicity for a fresh-off-the-boat boxer who does not know how to fight, but is naively participating in fixed matches, for the economic benefit of the mob. While the boxer is being exploited and making no money, despite his celebrity; Bogart is being well-compensated to sell out his conscience and he is very good at playing a dude in moral conflict with himself, struggling to do the decent thing. While this isn’t the best boxing movie, or the best Bogart, it’s still pretty good.

The Devil And Miss Jones (1941) dir. Sam Wood

Heard about this one in the context of it having good politics. It’s about a rich guy who goes undercover at a department store hoping to bust the union only to realize that the guy organizing the union is supremely decent and the middle manager should get fired. It has some scenes that feel like they might play for “cringe comedy” but also are just so fucked up? One where the rich dude is forcing shoes onto the feet of little girl who is crying saying “I don’t like it! I don’t like it!” feels way too much like a pervert’s fetish for me to be comfortable with. The female lead is played by Jean Arthur, who is very good at playing a genuine, kind, and idealistic person. I am very grateful she dates the union organizer and the old rich dude’s love interest is someone age-appropriate. Interesting to see a pro-union movie from a time when unions were popular, so it functions as populist entertainment while Sorry To Bother You gestures at being radical propaganda for self-congratulation’s sake.

Human Desire (1954) dir. Fritz Lang

Another noir from Lang, with the same leads as The Big Heat. This one made me worried about age-inappropriate relationships too, as it begins with a dude being back from war, moving in with his friends, and their daughter having “become a woman” while he was away. Luckily the title refers  to a desire he ends up feeling for a married woman who as an accomplice to a murder committed by her abusive husband. Glenn Ford stars in this one, and he has this very boring morally upstanding male lead quality that makes these well-made movies feel generic. This thing is happening to me watching movies where I get kind of hung up on how no one ever explains themselves or their feelings: I don’t think they should, I think the whole thing of watching a movie where you watch it thinking like “Why don’t you just tell her you love her??” is interesting because… a writer doesn’t need the characters to explain their feelings to each other if the viewers understand them, these feelings are the most obvious things and so can go unspoken, and so you would really only have them say these things if they were lying or being manipulative? But maybe in more modern movies people really do state their motivations because screenwriters are dumber now? I don’t know.

Fail Safe (1964) dir. Sidney Lumet

I have talked about this movie a lot since watching it, and in a way that doesn’t even mention that the opening is amazing, and the title and credits sequence are all-time greats. Instead I mention that Henry Fonda’s performance seems to have inspired David Lynch’s performance of Gordon Cole, and how the weird, fucked up nightmarish ending doesn’t really change the fact that watching it in 2020 it feels like a sort of pornography of competence when contrasted against our own reality. The whole movie is about an accident that leads to a U.S. military plane flying to Moscow to drop a nuke, and everyone (except for the pilots) realizing this is a mistake and trying to avert global nuclear war. The ending is pretty astounding in its darkness. Walter Matthau plays a guy whose role is to argue for the pragmatic value of mass death, but the moral calculus that ends up being embraced is far beyond the nihilistic death drive he advocates for. Mutually assured destruction is such a motherfucker of a concept. I am really hung up on the idea that unilateral nuclear disarmament never became a thing really set a precedent for how political parties in this country will never unilaterally dismantle their propaganda machines. 24-hour news is a nightmare, not really on a par with nuclear weapons, but similarly something that should be illegal, but for the calculations made. We would be a different country if we were willing to make these kinds of sacrifices but we really are not.

The Deadly Affair (1967) dir. Sidney Lumet

James Mason stars in this John Le Carre adaptation. He plays a spy whose wife is cheating on him, with another spy. None of the twists in this are unforeseen, in fact, the title alone explains a bunch, but the title is also so generic you might forget what the movie is called while you’re watching it. James Mason is good in it, although it’s weird that he’s playing a likable guy who sort of doesn’t seem to understand why everyone can’t get along or be honest adults with one another considering his work in the intelligence community. Another solid Sidney Lumet movie.

Three Days Of The Condor (1975) dir. Sydney Pollack

This movie does a very good job of not explaining things up front, and then portioning out understanding as it goes on. The movie begins with Robert Redford getting his office getting shot up, and we eventually learn he works for the CIA, but he cannot rely on them for his protection. It doesn’t introduce the female lead, played by Faye Dunaway, until like halfway through the movie, when our hero takes her hostage. Redford can’t really explain the situation to her, and just sort of acts like a psychopath, but they are able to have a quasi-romantic relationship where she trusts him because he’s played by Robert Redford, who is in some ways the seventies’ answer to Glenn Ford. The movie star aspect allows him to sell his agreeability, although he’s also supposed to be something of a nerd, a guy whose job is just to read books and analyze the information. Max Von Sydow plays the villain.

The Third Shadow Warrior (1963) dir. Umetsugu Inoue

Watched this because it’s made by the dude who made Black Lizard, it’s a samurai thing about a warrior who employs body doubles. It follows one such body double, overshadowed by the man whose existence he supports, at the expense of his own individuality or happiness. Interesting enough, feels like it occupies the solid middle of samurai movies- Something sort of common to stuff on Criterion is something that doesn’t blow you away but it is definitely a “real movie” at the very least.

La Cienaga, (2001) dir. Lucrecia Martel

That said, you kind of do need to be careful with newer Criterion channel stuff, because some things feel more like they’re just trying to engage with an art house history in order to earn their place in the canon. This movie isn’t bad, but I do feel like the reason it’s interesting stems from a context the film itself has nothing to do with: After Martel made Zama (2017), there was talk of her being asked by Marvel to do a Black Widow movie, which is insane. The studio also volunteered to handle the action for her, which she said she would actually be interested in learning how to do herself, but she had no interest in working with Marvel. Let Lucrecia Martel make a big-budget action movie without corporate properties you cowards! This movie is pretty difficult to follow, with no clear narrative thread, a lot of characters, weird pacing, etc. There’s moments of poetry or tension but this is one of those things that’s just beyond my preferences enough to remind me of a certain aesthetic conservatism I possess. I didn’t finish Zama, though I had read the book. It’s honestly tough to imagine Martel making a movie with straightforward plot that can easily be followed, it doesn’t seem to be what she’s interested in, even in terms of editing a movie so that you have a sense of where scenes stand in relation to one another in time. Many scenes still maintain a sense of beauty or mystery but at there’s no velocity. She’s closer to Apichatpong Weerasethakul or Carlos Reygadas or Bi Gan, to name three people whose names I absolutely had to Google because I couldn’t think of them off the top of my head.

All these movies are streaming on The Criterion Channel, if you want me to recommend things on other streaming services, please DM me your login information.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Ocean au (Pool of Blood part 2)

N/A: something to further this plot. A small one but the plot is kicking. I think.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @bamfoftheundead

When one thing about magic, and it´s all possibilities, hardly one comes to the question "how magic breathes its first breath" because, for someone, magic is just there and will always be there, but, if you ask to Wanda Maximoff where magic start she´ll have a blast in telling all the theories she has.

Pietro knows about this. Her husband Victor knows about this and their kids know about this too. Yet, her theories and the many other wizards who delve into the subject hardly come into a consensus in regards to the question.

The best outcome that Scarlet Witch and Dr StrangeFate managed to offer to people if they really ask this question, is that this is a gift from Hecate, mother of magic, and how if you truly believe you can wielder its magic in all proprieties in your favour.

Like said before, is only a theory and no one is crazy enough to summon Hecate to make this question. Right now, Wanda´s mind is far further from the answer to this question as she´s watching her kids rehearsing for the big school play.

"Mom, you won´t do that, right?" Tommy asks pouty. "We´re just trees in this story"

"Yeah, mom, we´re just trees, dad we´re just tress" Billy agrees and Wanda and Victor smile as they show the cameras.

"Sorry, kiddo, we´ll take pictures like all the other parents, plus you two will be the cutest trees ever" And this prompts the twins to be embarrassed even more so when Wanda promised their uncle Pietro will be there to take pictures and be their fanboys. Is a nice gesture, but, they´ll still be embarrassed.

The crystal ball lights up and Tommy is the first to run to see it and waves as Dr StrangeFate is present with one cat and one dog on his lap, and Tommy says the dog looks mad at Dr StrangeFate.

"Hello, Wanda, I was doing some research and I was wondering if you know anything about Pool of Blood" is his straightforward question and Wanda frown as is visible something is up.

Her eyes land on the two animals on his lap and realization hits her. "No, I not, but, why you want to know?"

"As I said is research and nothing more. I thought you could have a leading clue about this phenomenon, but, is not important" and turns off the communication and everyone in this house, including the kids, can sense something is off.

"Dad, what´s a Pool of Blood?"

"Is a monstrosity that creates monsters"

Wanda has a bad feeling about this and she vows to call Columbina about what her animals are, but, at the moment. "Come on, little trees, you have to end the song, right?" and the boys whine together but continue to sing the lame song, in their humble opinion, for this school play.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

The communication is cut short after all and Cosmo and Jupiter are not happy with Dr StrangeFate and the man knows he´s travelling in thin ice now, but, the Pool of Blood is malicious enough to cause harm and Wanda´s powers are a delicatessen for that thing.

"Let me be in her place, my powers won´t attract the attention of that thing and I know more magic than her" Dr StrangeFate speaks his case and Cosmo shakes his head as 4 eyes begin to emerge in his face and his body begins to grow.

Jupiter is nearby, walking on the corners, watching and waiting, he could end everything so easily, but, at the same time, is so rare to see Jupiter do something this drastic. Celestial mother loves monsters more than humans, but, she loves being a contradiction. Ironic, Jupiter´s patron is straightforward in his intentions.

"And what can you do to stop a Pool of Blood? How can you end it?" The dog asked bemused as the hot breath leaves his mouth. And Dr StrangeFate is left with his own mind and witts now.

"I could freeze the Pool and take it out"

"Can you freeze blood? Her blood?"

"....I´d not know"

The dog shakes his furry head and utters some Latin words, no, ancient words from other planet and time as Dr StrangeFate´s infinity stone is removed from him. "Remember, human, this power can be given and taken, and I´m her son, now, about our other plan...do you will help or not?"

"I obey Celestial Mother, her will is mine will" and this would be over if Cosmo didn´t set on fire one of Dr StrangeFate´s machines. The fire is blue and burns the machine in one go.

"Don´t go make questions your mind is not ready for the answer...and to resurrect the deads only brings problems" Cosmo replied shifting to his "normal" appearance and Jupiter still remains in silence, peering through the human´s soul. This one is different from universe 616.

"As for Columbina, you keep your mouth shut, got it?" Cosmo speaks still under the fire and Dr StrangeFate knows no blade or spell or even venom can take down Cosmo.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

In the life of espionage, one thing you must always have in your mind is how to leave the scene and this is one of MJ´s best qualities if she can say so. And right now, the red hair and her assistant, Peni Parker, need to flee for their lives, but, of course, still in the characters, they are pretending to be. A lovely aunt and niece having fun in the glamorous part of New Gotham.

"I knew it! Coming to New Gotham is always bad news" MJ is complaining as she packs her package in the most calmly and aggressive way one can imagine while Peni, doing her package without caring about the order is just saying how New Gotham was not that bad.

"It has everything here. Nice buildings, nice people and...vampires" Peni states as she has her gun on position and MJ has only time to look Dark Claw and Spider-boy on their balcony.

"Are you going to shoot at me?" Dark Claw asked and the man´s voice is frightening on its own but as he stands up the effect increase 10 times more and MJ does not want Peni to die.

"I´d not know, vampire, you´re the one peeping on innocent women, not very heroic, is it?" Peni asked still with the gun in hands and she shoots Dark Claw, but, thanks to the healing factor, the wound heals the man right away.

MJ looks at Spider-boy who notices her peering gaze at him, hard to not notice, and speaks to calm down the situation, if is possible. "We mean no harm here, Dark Claw just want to be dramatic, in reality, we would like to ask if you would rather work for us...in the future"

MJ crosses her arms and exhales as her green eyes are far from pleased. "Do we really have a choice? If we say no...how can we know you´ll not throw us in jail....we´re far too valuable to you all to ever let us go" MJ states bemused.

"So, I guess, me and Peni have to stay on the JLX´s side, right?"

"Or else" Dark Claw speaks "you would rather face Kilmonger on your own, you think he wouldn´t use you two again?" and Peni and MJ exchanges looks as they really don´t want to tangle themselves between Wakanda and Kilmonger.

"Well, it seems Spider-boy puts the news nicely than you, Mr vampire" Peni states and an agreement is made, MJ may not like, but, this is the lesser of evils in her situtation. _________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt Ryder is googling on the internet, yes sometimes even him has to rely on good and old Google, to get information about Kitty Pryde, and to his surprise, the internet has nothing useful to tell. Aside from some cat videos and some cat porn (no, Ryder does not need to know about Cats the hentai), he found next to nothing, except this one article.

"Brave little girls escape certain death by sheer luck" he reads the title and notices it has a photo of Kitty Pryde when she was younger, and a girl with green hair who is hugging Kitty (the said girl is smaller than Kitty) and continues to read "according to the police, the Ferris wheel went malfunction in the exact moment those two girls decided to join in and it was a miracle that they didn´t die, but, no one knows how the Ferris Wheel malfunction in the first place as...it was turn off in the first place, investigation will be issued and the Amusement Park Happy Land will be closed"

Kurt Ryder, if he was a less experient detective, could let this information go as it appears to be irrelevant, however, Kurt is an excellent detective and looking at the legend of the photo of the two girls he notices something crucial.

"Kitty Pryde and Lorna Dane Pryde. Two lucky survivors."

"That´s...something"

___________________________________________________________________________________________

On a secret lair, a villain that the JLX hopes is really retired and will never come back to the good old days, is watching a fascinating video on the big screen thanks to his secretary/ sometimes lover provide for him. Magneto is watching a green-haired woman using her power to help someone, Magneto has no idea who is this person, but, it appears she is taking him out of the prison.

"Interesting" Magneto states. "Oracle once told me I have a lost daughter...could this be my lost daughter" and smiles proudly as the video ends with the green-haired woman taking the unknown person away.

Meanwhile, Irene has a small smile on her face. Oh, her old prophecies are coming together.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

The cellphone rings loudly and Kitty answers and is no surprise to know is Jubilee as the TV is showing the news of a person is missing in the Arkhan, but, the twist in the news is that such person was actually not who he claimed to be, which means, the police make a mistake and the system arrested an innocent. And this happened in Jump City.

"Hello, Jubs" Kitty speaks still peering at the news and is impressed by Kurt and Peter´s professionalism even through Kurt confessed to Kitty, once thanks to a nice mood and delicious food, that sometimes is a pain work with Peter (and Kitty wonder if Peter thinks the same)

"Kitty, your sister was here!" and is all Jubile needs to say about the situation and Kitty can picture the image just fine.

"And let me guess? You want me to do something?"

"No, I want you to help me with a case, your sister unmask a crook system here but has no intention of helping..."

She takes the cellphone out to mutters tiredly the name Lorna and that´s the mood for this situation. "Ok, but, I´ll need a favour too if Kurt Ryder asks about me...tell him I´m a sexologist"

"Do I want to know?"

"NOPE"

"Then ok, I´ll cover for you"

"Then...guess I´ll go to Jump City"

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Sometime later, Cosmo arrives with Jupiter on his back and meet Kitty eating popcorn and greeting them, however, the cat and dog have a concern expression on their furry faces. "Someone watch Cats the movie?" and Kitty is the only to chuckle as Jupiter is not happy. "What happened?"

"Kitty, you need to gather the gang to a new heist. This time...you need to steal a Pool of Blood!"

"....sounds crazy, I´m in"

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 11: Old Laws and New Enemies

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Lady Smoke calls a council of the city’s strongest leaders and puts a target on everyone’s backs.

[READ IT ON AO3]

It hadn’t even occurred to Vera that someone else was the bloodwraith’s intended target. Which probably said a lot about how dangerous it was for her to be back in the city she grew up in. Not that a supremely terrifying and hard-to-kill otherworldly assassin couldn’t have tracked her down amid the dense New York population, of course.

But it was an awfully big coincidence. Too big for even Taylor; on whom coincidences just seemed to land lately.

So on the Vera-Taylor front all is forgiven. And when this is over — this being tonight’s gathering, since neither of them know when they’ll know enough or have a weapon strong enough to take down their pursuant — they will visit Kristin in the hospital.

He even made Nik shake on it. His version of a contract written in blood.

Actually now that he thinks about it, he’s starting a new, silent resolution to not be so fucking dramatic over everything. Because at this rate a blood contract would be relatively normal.

It’s unnerving how at ease Tonya Reimonenq is about everything that’s going on. Even others raised in this life — Cal, Vera, Cadence for sure — are dealing with varying degrees of worry and distrust.

Cal’s the worst of the lot. From the moment Lady Smoke decided to give them what little information they needed (along with a demand for their presence; not a request — a freaking demand) he’s been bouncing knees and fingers tugging through his hair and if he bites at the peeling skin of his bottom lip anymore he’s going to start bleeding.

Cadence; he’s not so worried about. But the other vampires that are apparently going to be joining them are another matter.

The collective sigh of relief when the werewolf finally sits is short-lived; the same two bounces of the left knee before he’s up and pacing the length of the large parlor like the hounds of hell are at his heels.

There he goes with the dramatics again. Are hell-hounds real? Holy shit — is Hell real? No, no he’s not going there. Nope. No way.

At least everyone is polite enough not to verbalize how frustrating Cal’s dogged pacing is. Well — almost everyone.

“I suggest you find a place to sit still, Lowell,” Lady Smoke doesn’t look up from her leather binder of files; doesn’t have to — her tone carries her intent just fine, “lest you shoulder off some of that restlessness onto the house.”

“I don’t need to be here.”

“You’re involved, boy. Accept it.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing. Or—fuck—maybe you do and you just want me to get my head torn off for defending Donny.”

The scratch of Smoke’s pen on expensive paper is all the answer he needs.

Surprisingly it’s Nik to the rescue with words of reassurance and some of that rare sincerity. “Kristof’s got more important things to think about now, if it’s any consolation. So just… relax?”

“You heard his threat. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just goes straight for the throat.”

It’s not relaxing exactly but he does eventually settle against the wall on Taylor’s opposite side. The tension rolls off of him in waves and Taylor wants to be sympathetic; he does — is. Only he can’t get what Mother Reimonenq said out of his head.

Still he tries — touches the gooseflesh on Cal’s bare arm and feels him simmer down almost instantaneously.

“Don’t get me wrong — I’m terrified of the guy. But Nik’s right; the bloodwraith is more of a threat to the Pack than you are. Kristof’ll see that — he’ll have to.”

It’s the flinch felt around the room; the word bloodwraith spoken out loud. Even Vera’s refused to repeat herself; keeps calling it “that thing” and everyone else just follows suit.

If they get to vote on an official codename he’s throwing in Lord Voldemort. Because duh.

The universe makes sure he doesn’t even get the chance to think about probing more into the elusive and undiscussed creature, though. Not at the sound of expensive heels on the marble tile in the entryway.

Cal lets out the breath he was holding when their first guests arrive; the tall woman’s figure cut in the same head-to-toe black as her ensemble at Persephone. The women flanking Isadora de la Rosa look practically bored, but their leader, mother, whatever the new head of whatever empire Carlo left behind is anything but.

Lady Smoke stands and the figureheads exchange curt nods as their only form of greeting — instead she focuses on Cadence with a wary eye.

“Smoke’s ruthlessness is legendary — should we begin singing praises of her forgiveness as well, Smith?”

It takes Taylor a moment to realize what de la Rosa is doing; how her gesture of respect is just that, a gesture, and whatever power there is left to grab in the thick night air around them has been clawed and claimed with ease.

Smoke’s face darkens. She watches the exchange like just another of the shadows cast along the windows by the moonlight.

“An accord was reached.” Cadence answers simply.

It’s not exactly true — Taylor’s still reeling, trying to figure out how they all went from threats and offers of deathly touches to bringing together the supernatural figureheads of New Orleans, but when a secret is out it’s out apparently — but it’s the only way to let the conflict die without more of a showdown than they’ve all encountered already.

“That much is obvious.” She purses plum lips. “And I suspect it will not be the only one reached this night if what your daughter claims is true, Tonya. Are you sure you can stomach all that unfinished business?”

Luckily — lucky for who isn’t exactly clear — the bang of a door forced open echoes so loud the vampires wince in discomfort. Cal doesn’t even have to scent the air — tenses back up immediately.

“This better be good, Reimonenq!”

Kristof is heard before he’s seen — not for long. Especially in the way he huffs and puffs and stops so abruptly in the eastern doorway that Octavia behind him stumbles straight into his back like a wall.

Think he’s seen Cal much?

The Alpha’s nostrils flare. “What in the hell is this?! You best not be gettin’ involved in Pack business —” he rounds on Lady Smoke, practically pushing himself over the edge in rage, “— if y’are I swear —”

“Will you calm the fuck down, Kristof?!”

It’s definitely not the Cal who begged for Kristof’s mercy on behalf of his brother; who spent the whole day following busting his ass with as much manual labor as Garrus could find in order to not deal with his exile.

But hoo boy, Taylor likes this version of their wolf — whoever he is and wherever he’s been hiding. The way he steps up and takes charge. Looks his former Alpha dead in the eyes. He doesn’t have anything to lose; not anymore. Nothing to prove but apparently everything to gain.

And in the moment of stunned silence that follows Kristof leaves himself open — tries to come to grips with his Alpha sensibilities and how his own flesh and blood is speaking to him.

“You’re a mile over the line, Cal,” Octavia tries to warn him — to separate them both with her body. And she definitely could if Taylor wasn’t already holding Cal back.

“If you listened before losin’ your lid things would be a helluva lot easier — for you and the Pack.”

“Tell me this ain’t to do with Donny.” Kristof may be the Alpha but it’s obvious who keeps a level head when it’s needed. Octavia’s eyes flare a bright, feral yellow.

The sudden velvet of Isadora’s laugh behind them is enough to break the tension… for now.

“You agreed to a Beau-Keyes Council without pressing the matter? I expected better from you, Jensen.”

Though the bad blood between Kristof and his nephew may be fresh, whatever horror flick monster-versus-monster feud rests between the most important werewolf and the most important vampire takes precedent.

Gets Kristof’s full attention. Thank god.

“I ain’t gonna waste time gettin’ told what’s what when that’s what a Beau-Keyes is for, la Rosa.”

“Given what happened to my father I would have pegged you to err on the side of caution.”

“Who needs caution? The less bloodsuckers around the better, I say.”

Octavia’s finally head enough then — curls her fist tight and all laws of physics should dictate that she can’t do much damage to a man the sheer size of Kristof. But the bruise that blossoms — lives and dies in reds and purples to settle on a speckled sickly green that reminds Taylor of Meerl back at Smoke’s Den — on his arm says otherwise.

“Our condolences on ya loss, Lady de la Rosa.” Octavia grits out; and there’s no doubt she’s used to apologizing on behalf of them both — not even a glance spared at her Alpha; she knows he won’t say it.

Their argument ends there with a curt nod from Isadora. At least someone is taking the gravity of the situation into account. The fighters go back to their corners.

A warm breeze settles over those gathered — is enough to rustle the hems of skirts and the trailing ends of Lady Smoke’s cape. Taylor swears he catches the faintest whisper of wooden wind chimes.

It catches his notice in how strange the feeling is. Strange only because all the windows around them are closed, latched, and locked tight.

“Lamrian’s here.” comments Ryder almost offhandedly after a deep inhale through parted lips.

Confused, Taylor follows suit. Tastes honeysuckle and something like the aftermath of a bite of strawberries on his tongue.

And there they are. Coming from the same direction as the vampires but so starkly different it’s almost violent. Encased in a soft brightness; so white it fades blue at the edges of his eyes. Bathed in moonlight — which he could have sworn was over at the other edge of the room just a moment ago.

The long, snowy-haired man and the three armored fae at his back aren’t his first of the faerie folk — Garrus has that honor and seems very happy that’s so. But Garrus is new-world. He’s waistcoats and tight jeans and obviously-enjoys-the-mortal-concept-of-hair-gel. He’s nothing like their new guests.

Who look like they’d be more at home at a Renaissance Faire than among the motley gang gathered. Unearthly beauty but in a way that haunts him when he closes his eyes. Like they’re burned into the backs of his eyelids because he never has and never will see something so breathtaking for the rest of his life.

Pale blue eyes sweep the room; land on Taylor and there’s a startled intake of breath no one else notices but them. So small, so reserved; yet strangely important.

No one else notices because it isn’t for anyone else. It’s for them. He’d stake his life on it.

And when the fae leader speaks that, too, is important. Because he’s definitely not talking to Taylor but that doesn’t mean he looks away.

“Are we the only ones summoned tonight, Tonya?”

Lady Smoke nods. “Time was of the essence in this particular matter, Elric. I sent out messages to those I could — those who I knew would come.”

Whatever she says is important enough to drag Elric’s focus away — to break whatever unseen tether was keeping them together.

Taylor makes a note to ask Garrus what fae magic feels like; if it feels like being consumed, body and soul, by drowning moonlight.

“But isn’t it the point of a Beau-Keyes to give every community a seat at the table, so to speak?” Isadora interrupts. “You didn’t even bother summoning the Garden Coven, or the Mayor for that matter.”

‘The Mayor?’ mouths Taylor silently to Nik; but he’s focused on everyone around them.

A long silence follows; bated breaths waiting for Smoke’s answer. Judging by her reply — slow and measured, each syllable carefully chosen and accounted for — it’s more thought than she would normally give to those in her presence.

“I would rather not incite the chaos and panic before its time. As it is such an outcome has already proven itself inevitable.”

Chaos and panic. Two words that really shouldn’t go together but always seem to. And during Mardi Gras of all times.

Kristof is the first to move; gives a grunt under his breath and passes Cal just shy of slamming them together shoulder-to-shoulder to open the double doors leading out to the famous back gardens of the Beauregard-Keyes House.

“Why can’t we stay here?” Taylor had asked before they left the Den — all messages sent and car being called up top. “Why can’t they just come to us? Not like this place is very secret.”

Not that he wanted to stay in the secret underground casino, but if this was there Lady Smoke conducted her infamous business then it was probably protected out her ass, right?

“Because there’s certain neutral territories in place for gatherings of importance,” Cadence had taken on the duty of explaining, “places of historical importance where ceremonies, councils, or conflicts are held.”

“So which one are we going to?”

“Ever heard of P. G. T. Beauregard?”

The Beauregard-Keyes House was everything they needed. It was big, important, and tied to half a dozen (or more, admittedly he zoned out when Cade started to sound like just another tour guide) important supernatural events or figures.

The museum was run by mortals — whether they were ‘in the know’ or not didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that every figurehead in the city contributed to its maintenance.

Turns out there’s more to maintain than just a fresh coat of paint and a trimmed lawn.

They pour out into the garden in their tightly-knit groups and factions. Lady Smoke subtly tries to keep Vera at her side and Vera not-so-subtly stays away — keeps by Cal and Taylor without regret.

Unbidden the guards behind Elric reach up and out. Stretch their fingers skyward as if to take the very stars in their hands. They very well could; Taylor believes.

The stars stay in their celestial homes but what cloud cover there is parts in a way that definitely isn’t natural. Shines the light of the heavens down upon them all and casts their shadows in a dozen different directions at their feet.

What Taylor first mistakes for a too-bright glare in his eyes soon begins to move; reveals itself as threads glowing, thrumming. The fae arc their hands and throw along the path of invisible shooting stars; they toss the threads from where they stand, to one another, to where modern civilization meets the horizon.

In the end they’re left under a dome of magic so powerful it rings in Taylor’s skull. Makes him work his jaw to pop his ears caught in the pressure.

Not just any maintenance — magical maintenance.

And though the glimmering shield fades to lowered arms everyone knows it’s still there; hovering invisible over their heads, guarding them.

He offers a silent prayer out to the universe, just in case. Please, please let it be enough.

All eyes fall expectantly to Lady Smoke.

The silence that follows isn’t just awkward, it’s downright goosebump ridden secondhand embarrassment nightmares worthy. How it always is when people who are supposed to have all the answers, who are never without something to say, find themselves at a loss.

“I’m sure I am not the first to say this — and with our legacies intact I know I will not be the last — but those who stand here tonight know by experience or reputation that this is not your ordinary community. We are a community of survivors.”

Something about her words earns a reverent bow of nearly every head. Only Katherine looks around with the same curiosity as Taylor — and when their eyes meet the unspoken answer is obvious.

They’re the only two outsiders. Vampire, fae, werewolf, witch; all of them locals — the city built on the bodies of their ancestors. A will to live not even Mother Nature could wash away.

“Come Hell and high waters.”

“Come Hell and high waters.” Ryder whispers beside him; voices echoing the sentiment around the garden.

“Come Hell and high waters.”

“Come Hell and high waters.”

It’s an invocation that wraps their different beliefs under one sky — just like they are now. The weight of it staggering and important.

Lady Smoke continues; “Mardi Gras may not be sacred to the rest of the world any more but we of New Orleans know a different celebration. It is a prosperous time; our version of a bountiful harvest. And as such there were laws put into place upon the founding of both the supernatural and mortal communities — laws that ensured, even in times of conflict and strife, that there would always be a ceasefire.”

The looks chanced at Isadora and Elric aren’t very subtle; nor do the immortals seem bothered by it. Maybe it’s nice to have confirmation that it actually happened — that whatever rules were penned down were done so with the future in mind.

“I know I didn’t leave a good barbecue fer a history lesson,” mutters Kristof.

“No,” she answers, “you didn’t. You were called here because you swore an oath in blood to the Accords; to uphold them yourself and ensure they are passed down through the generations.”

Probably against his will, Taylor thinks.

“You sayin’ I haven’t?”

“What she is saying, Jensen, is that the Accords have been broken in some form or another.” Isadora’s careful, grandiose personality gives way to the pressure of insistence. “Aren’t you, Smoke?”

Tonya nods.

Elric speaks next. “This is to do with the mysterious deaths surrounding the festivities, then.”

Isadora’s teeth grind audibly. “The death of my father.”

“And the Shifter, Denna.”

Octavia’s eyebrows shoot up. “I thought those were coincidences.”

“This town wasn’t founded on coincidences.”

“Nevertheless,” Elric’s monotone keeps passions from running on sharp tongues, “their passing lies outside of celebration’s given time. There are no rights given to us to act.”

“On the contrary; my daughter was attacked the night following the late Señor de la Rosa. I’m a mother first —” — Vera very nearly interrupts with a red rage in her face, nearly — “— and a businesswoman second; and would expect any here to offer me the same chance at justice for mine own.”

Judging by the look on Isadora’s face the fine line that turns justice into vengeance has already been crossed. “How very generous of you, Reimonenq.”

Now that the discussion has taken a turn for the violent Kristof seems all too eager to get in on the action. The way he practically bristles with anticipation. Taylor thinks back to the trophy room in his cabin — wonders where the hell he’s going to find the space for another mounted victory.

But something just isn’t right. All of the leaders gathered have motive to go on the offensive.

All but one.

And that might just work out in their favor; might just keep them alive. Because Elric doesn’t look like the type to lead the battalion — soldiers in armor aside.

“I doubt not your passion nor its intent, Tonya,” the fae lord finally speaks to the mother with his focus on the daughter, “not just as a leader but as a father. But it would be unwise not to ask the child what exactly happened.”

It’s not a question.

Unlike her mother Vera very obviously isn’t a fan of being heard, of giving orders and watching atop an empire of her own making. She wilts under the scrutiny; must be truly desperate when she takes the risk of hoping her mother will step in on her behalf.

Yeah, like he’s gonna let that happen.

“I was there —” not that he’s entirely happy to be looked at and through again but if it helps Vera then he’ll suffer it, “— so was our friend.”

Octavia crosses her arms over her chest with a snort. “Why ain’t I surprised this has somethin’ t’do with you?”

Ryder steps up — something cocksure like “you got a problem with that?” on the tip of his curled upper lip — but doesn’t get the chance to say shit. Not when Elric holds a hand up. Is it magic that makes everyone fall quiet, or just the impermeable presence of him?

“‘Tis doubtful I am the only one curious as to where in this story you belong. Perhaps it is something we may all piece together in the here and now.”

Taylor’s laugh is short; pushed through his nostrils. “You and me both.”

Of course Ryder looks reluctant to let him keep talking — he can see the little vein in his temple throbbing as the Nighthunter scrambles for something to say before whatever Taylor says is somehow wrong and inevitably gets them into trouble.

So in a very un-Taylor-like fashion he thinks before he speaks; says only what seems relevant to the attack in what has to be the most professional retelling of the night’s events he’s given so far. Doesn’t mention his headaches and the whole seeing-through-glamours thing.

By the end of it everyone has a series of very distinct impressions; Smoke now knows what happened after Vera left, Kristof couldn’t give a damn, Elric — well he looks like he’s just seen a new original performance by Shakespeare himself.

The odd one out is Isadora; how her anger doesn’t seem to have a seat at the table. Not the same kind of anger Cadence used to mutilate a Minotaur, thankfully. But it’s old, and it’s not human anger, and there he is yet again knees knocking.

“Something to say, Izzy?” asks Cadence who had, up until then, been content in his silence. Maybe it’s a vampire thing — the way he notices. Would certainly explain the women shifting on their heels at their leader’s back.

“Merely entertaining the ways to pull out what the little mortal isn’t telling us while staying under Elric’s wards, Smith. Why — something to suggest?”

“Pull what now?” Thankfully dignity isn’t something he’s all that attached to.

Wouldn’t now be a great time to have a bodyguard? Oh, wait.

There he is half-stepping in front of Taylor like always. How many times does it take to turn an action into a habit, again? Surely they’ve passed it by now.

“Can’t say I’m a fan of what you’re implyin’, Isadora.” Ryder’s voice a low warning growl.

“Nor am I.” Not that it stops the barest flicker of doubt from finding home on Elric’s pale brow. “Why would you assume the young man lies?”

“Hi — still here?”

“Taylor wouldn’t lie about something like this,” comes Vera to his defense, “and I was there for most of it. It came out of nowhere. None of us could have anticipated — or even imagined…”

Isadora scoffs. “Where shall I begin to dispute; his claims at being nothing but an innocent who keeps tripping into the messes of a secret world? Or that the creature he describes — no doubt fiction exacerbated by terror — is one even I have not come across in my many lifetimes?

“Or—should that not be enough—that I struggle to tie together my father, one of the great and powerful men who built this city from the swamp beneath your feet, a half-witch in self-imposed exile, and two ignorant mortals; if we’re to take that farce as truth.”

You know an argument is a convincing one when even you believe it, maybe just a little, despite obviously knowing otherwise. Not that he’ll shoot his credibility in the foot and give her a hand for being smart.

Smart — and cautious. Still grieving. Taylor and his mom aren’t the best example of tight-knit familial bonds but he still loves her; would do anything for her. He can’t even fathom how it would feel to live more than an average lifetime with her, maybe even more than two, and then suddenly… suddenly lose her.

“There’s no doubt in my mind the target was my daughter,” Smoke corrects her — doesn’t leave room for grief-ridden argument, “and when it sensed easier prey, diverted its hunt to the mortals.”

“Where is the other?” asks Octavia.

“In the hospital,” Ryder raises a hand before anyone even chances interrupting him, “and before anyone gets their rich panties in a bunch I took all the precautions. Only the docs in the know are takin’ care of her condition.”

Well that would’ve been good to know earlier.

Elric quickly steers the group back on course — the first time his hollowing voice sounds anything more than stagnant; with a barely-there waver of concern, fear.

“Imagination may stretch the truth, but we would be remiss as speakers for our communities not to consider that what was seen was indeed real. That in this case truth has stretched the imagination.”

Kristof growls, shakes his head firmly. “No fuckin’ way; it’s impossible.”

“Judging by the account — I would say otherwise.”

“Then yer head’s finally full of fairy dust.” A remark obviously meant to incite some kind of irritation in the fae; but the only one left irritated is the Alpha whose baits go unbitten.

“I know what I saw.” Vera looks around; incredulous that no one seems to be the proper amount of scared.

“How could you? There’s never been a true massacre like that of a bloodwraith summoned in your lifetime.” Isadora counters. But even in her doubt a shared look passes between her and Cadence; a memory they can both tell tales of — even if they wish they couldn’t.

Cadence inclines his head. “Some things you just can’t forget. You of all people should know that, Iz’.”

“And, hey — hey over here!” Taylor keeps snapping his fingers until both of their ancient gazes are on him. Probably not the smartest idea to be sure but he’s learning from the Nik Ryder School of Bad Choices. “Yeah, hi, you’re kind of missing the point here.

“Even if we are wrong, even if we don’t know what’s out there —” he gestures out beyond the garden gates, “— whatever it is, is still fucking scary as hell. It still hunted me and my friend down, still killed your father and Denna. So what difference does it make?”

Elric gives a soft nod of approval. “He speaks sense. Best we prepare for that which we can defeat rather than an enemy of which we are unsure.”

Apparently his backing is the one to have. It gets Isadora off the confrontation train even if only for the moment. Gives Ryder a chance to join back in.

“Care to share, Lord Elric? Because I punched an awful lotta holes in that thing — I might as well have been usin’ foam darts.”

“Most things die when ya rip off their heads.” Kristof growls.

“Should you find yourself that close to a true bloodwraith, it is not the creature who will perish.” warns Elric, and he chooses to ignore Kristof’s mumbled argument to continue; “The power of the creature comes from two places: the black artist which summoned it and the malevolent soul summoned. The price to call such a being unto the living realm is steep… the bargainer and holder of its leash already surpasses the power even a renowned Nighthunter might possess.

“Yet even when their wellspring — the life force tying together spirit and master — dries up, the creature will remain. Mindless, purposeless, with only its nature to slaughter to fuel it. And more oft than not that is more than enough.”

Tonya’s biting tone stings with impatience. “Since you have so much knowledge, Lord Elric, perhaps you have some on how to rid our city of the thing before it gets that far.”

“Find the reason for which it was birthed into this world — that which it hunts for — and, ideally, destroy it.”

“Do the damn thing’s job for it?”

“Confront the lesser of the evils at work.” He corrects.

“How do we know it isn’t done — that it hasn’t already killed who it needs to before the spell ends?”

They couldn’t possibly be that lucky, could they? No, of course not.

Because Taylor’s been so fixated on the play of moonlight on Elric’s ethereal features that he notices right away — before anyone else — when a cloud passes over and obscures the glow.

Only there aren’t any clouds above — there haven’t been since Elric’s guards wove their warding magic.

“It’s not done.” He croaks out; might have even gone unheard were he not in the presence of some very keen ears.

Ryder’s frown is worried. “How d’you know, Rook?”

He points to the rapidly descending figure in the sky.

“Because it’s, uh, right there.”

With a swipe of its skeletal hand the bloodwraith tears through the wards of light; a cobweb — a mere nuisance.

It’s upon them.

The air on his tongue tastes burnt — but there is no fire.

It smells like the sheet metal factory his school took a field trip to in the eighth grade. Who lets a bunch of prepubescent dumbasses visit a sheet metal factory, he’d wondered. How that hadn’t been the first thing the administration asked themselves he still didn’t understand.

But it didn’t take long for one such dumbass — Steve-something, maybe — to catch sight of some in-law relative and convince them to let him and his friends try out the band-saw.

The trip was supposed to be a lesson in ‘shop and the trade jobs. Instead it turned into a fun biology lesson. They all learned a lot about reattaching severed fingers that day.

Strange the things you think of moments away from death. His life isn’t flashing before his eyes; in fact he’s not even thinking about experiences that are his own.

No, he’s thinking about dumb Steven and the Sheet Metal Incident.

What the literal fuck?

On tonight’s special episode Taylor has two options: get clawed in two by the bloodwraith’s talons, or have garden gravel for dinner. Only this particular game show doesn’t let him choose — oh no, no — hasn’t anyone been paying attention? That would be simple; logical.

There’s no place for that here.

Not anymore.

The stale sweat stitched into the inner lining of Nik’s coat makes him want to wretch. Or maybe that’s his stomach finally joining in on the action.

He tries to look up; out. To see what’s going on despite the throbbing where they collided with the earth. “Don’t, Taylor,” whispered into his ear and his face buried into that supple leather collar instead.

Their hearts are beat together erratically, one trying to out-pace the other. That won’t matter if they actually end up on the outsides of their ribcages. But the fact that it’s beating — it’s a short-lived relief.

“Katherine!”

Oh god, that sounded like — “Cade —”

“Head down, dammit!”

“But what if —”

“Now ain’t the time to fuckin’ question me!”

Taylor squeezes his eyes shut. Makes the blood pound through his veins faster, faster. Every ounce flooded with adrenaline and very late for wherever it wants to be.

But nothing, not even Ryder’s authority, can stop him from almost seizing in panic at the screams that fill the air.

Echoing cries — something ripping, hot and wet and the crunch of bones so loud and visceral they may as well be his own — that shift like the moon into feral howls.

Wrenching his cheek away from the path — little crumbs, pebbles of gravel digging into his cheek like blunted fingernails. It’s enough for him to see just over the crook of Ryder’s shoulder. To witness the mass of silverlight fur and muscle that steps a long and large hind paw just inches away.

There’s no mistaking the enormity of muscle that is Kristof — though there’s nothing in what he can see of the wolf within that even resembles the Alpha in his human form. Maybe a scar here and there that bled through the change — maybe the almost cocky snap of its teeth towards the bloodwraith beyond.

He can’t see them, Cal and Octavia, but he knows they’re there. Feels the tickle of tail fur just shy of the shell of his ear; musk of the primal hunt thick and dense in their coats.

Not that he wants to but Taylor can imagine their enemy now — that same cast-from-Hell grin on rotting skeleton teeth. When it shrieks and waves its arms like it means to tear away the very veil of reality with every stroke the wolves waste no time nor chance.

They lunge as beasts; as one.

Above him Ryder sees something he can’t. Digs the balls of his boots into the ground and scrambles to haul them both up together.

“Move—move—move dammit!”

The Beauregard-Keyes Garden is in chaos.

One creature — more than just the ability but the drive — to uproot vines, spread decay through hedges and let fungi spiderweb up the trunks of trees. It’s everything that happened in the cemetery but on a grander scale.

The bloodwraith is stronger than it was before. And it doesn’t look like it’s done gaining power just yet. As though it wants to live up to Elric’s foreboding.

“Taylor!”

Just as Vera calls out she’s yanked back; painfully so by the looks of it. Turns around to look at her mother with indignant argument but now is not the fucking time for their fucking family problems, Vera.

Just as soon as she lets her daughter go Lady Smoke peels off her gloves; no ceremony about it, letting the expensive fabric fall to the ground with the rest of the trampled things.

One of Elric’s guards. The younger-looking of Isadora’s ladies. He hadn’t even noticed them before. And the bloodwraith had had time to kill them both before Nik could get him to stand?

They were fighting a losing battle. Holy fuck.

The remaining two armor-clad fae stand in front of Elric with no doubt the same determination as their fallen comrade. They, too, are ready to stand until they have stood their last.

“Iz’ stop this madness!”

Nik forces Taylor behind the blackened, withered remains of what he could recall was a neatly-trimmed hedge. The heavy breathing beside him makes him jump — but it’s only Katherine; daggers long and sharp in her white-knuckled clutches.

But when she glares it’s only at Ryder. “Where the hell is that crossbow of yours?”

“Gimme a sec to pull it outta my ass, Kathy!”

“Seriously?! You’re snarking me now?!”

Taylor’s ready to tell them both to shut up or fuck off when Isadora’s voice rasps almost as loud as their enemy.

“Let me go you insolent…!” It’s all he gets before she dissolves into tongue-twisting Spanish. But that’s more than enough to see Cadence holding the woman back with arms around her torso.

No, not just a woman — a creature of vengeance; a fury in black ready to spill whatever blood the malevolent conjuring has as payment for her fallen.

For the other vampiress weeping huddled at their feet.

“That abomination killed my father, now my daughter! I will see it ground to dust before it takes the rest of my family from me!”

“You won’t live long enough to get the chance!”

And like it seeks to prove Cadence right the wraith draws the chaos back in; cranes its spinal column as a neck and drops its jaw so low what little decayed muscle holds it together snaps — threatens to send it comically falling to the ground to be trampled on.

There’s no way something so thin should be able to take on even one of the werewolves surrounding it. But it does. In the same way it shouldn’t be able to send the large black wolf flying through the air like it was nothing more than a stuffed toy and not enough packed muscle and power to snap the tree it collides with in half near the roots.

Taylor fixates, horrified, as the wolf struggles — twitches and convulses, trying to stand, to haul up, to do anything more than lay there exposed and injured. When its eyes roll up and back with one last involuntary twitch, he knows which one of them it is.

“CAL!”

“Shit—Ryder—don’t let him go!”

But there’s no fucking way he’s going to be held back now. Not when another high-pitched yelp echoes along the brick garden walls as the brown wolf—Octavia—tries to catch herself on her front paw; feels it twist and snap as no more than a twig.

Taylor’s fast — darts out while trying to keep low with dread filling the cold emptiness in his gut because fuck Cal isn’t moving he’s not moving oh god oh godohgod —

And sure, Nik is faster. Nik will always be faster. Every time he’s had the reflexes and the forethought to be smart, to keep Taylor out of as much harm as he can. Does the same, now, when he locks a rugged hand around his charge’s slender wrist.

But his mistake is expecting Taylor to yield — he doesn’t. Nik grabs harder. Taylor yanks his arm away. Feels something shift under his skin — an all-encompassing throbbing pain — then the numbing sting of pins and needles that make it easier for him to care more about Cal than himself.

“Get back here Taylor!” Ryder shouts; but it’s lost on the hallowed gust of wind that precedes the enormous shadow of Kristof the wolf skidding aside; disarmed, conquered, forgotten.

He’ll process ‘big, big wolf; large dog man’ later — if there is a later. Skids to his knees and tries to, uh, shit. He’s never even had a dog let alone figured this shit out. Just ends up following what comes naturally; cradling the large onyx head to keep it from rolling off to the side too harsh and giving light smacks to (what he hopes are) Cal’s wolf-cheeks.

“Cal — Cal c’mon wake up. Open your eyes Cal please. Please!”

Distantly yes; Nik is still yelling for him to find a place to hide — to come back to the safety he can provide for as long as he can provide it. But Taylor — Taylor got Cal involved in this mess; offered him a place to go and maybe Cal felt obligated to help keep him safe because of it?

First Kristin — now Cal. There shouldn’t even be a first, or a list to begin with. And it’s starting to crush him from the inside-out.

There’s a victorious screech into the night and Taylor chances a terrified look back — expects to see the thing advancing on him in the same way it had back in the cemetery.

Only it isn’t. Instead it advances on the prone Kristof’s scarred back with the hunger of the void in its empty eye sockets.

“Away from him, demon!”

Sweat and tears may sting in Taylor’s eyes but he swears he sees Lady Smoke advancing at the wraith’s back — cloak billowing behind her like some epic cinematic entrance.

It’s weird that no one’s trying to stop her or keep her under the safety of cover, right? He’s not the only one thinking that? Oh, he is? Well shit.

Not to mention the fact that without her gloves she looks like she’s somehow missing part of her villain’s ensemble. Definitely not as terrifying as three oversized werewolves.

But whatever Smoke has planned — it’s a good enough plan to keep her from being told to run and hide. To keep Vera at her back; her left arm equally bare, but no such confidence in her eyes as that of her mother.

You’d think she stares down near-mythical possessed-skeleton assassins every day or something.

Before the bloodwraith can descend on Kristof, a flash of light as bright as the sun behind snowclouds lands in the space left; distances them and makes it recoil with warbling hisses and claws up in a previously unseen attempt at protecting itself.

Elric doesn’t give it time to recover; hurtles another of the miniature suns up and over; this time lets it land so close the burning smell in the air grows hot and smoky — like Kristof’s beloved barbecue.

“Go,” he commands the soldiers at his back, “protect her!”

There’s a shudder in the furry mass beneath his touch — brings Taylor’s attention back to Cal who whimpers in pain. But being in pain means he’s alive. Alive is so much better than the alternative.

“Cal — c’mon Cal please — I can’t carry you alone.”

If he doubts for a second that the wolf may not be able to understand him that’s dashed when yellow eyes dimmed and glassy flick up to look at him. He feels the shudder of canine breath and the way his body trembles at his injuries. But Cal’s alive, and knows he’s there, and that’s something.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up; a warning not to let his guard down. Instinctively he knows the thing at his back isn’t the bloodwraith — can hear it hiss and wail far back behind him — but doesn’t expect the face who rounds to join him, either.

Elric’s pale hands glow; the magic at his fingertips an undulating gradient of warm colors that make his skin look — if only for a moment — human.

“Your valiance is understood, but you must go.”

He gapes at the fae offended, angry. ”I’m not leaving him!”

“Go to your protector.”

“I said no!”

“You cannot hope to protect yourself, let alone your companion.”

“Cool — heard you the first time — still ain’t gonna happen!”

This close he can see the difference between Elric’s features and his. The almost catlike tilt of his eyes, the pressed-down bridge of his nose. Features that remind him of Garrus — obviously.

From a distance the fae are radiant, striking things. Up close their grace sharpens, though; makes them beautiful in the same way a poisoned needle is beautiful.

From the way they treat him it’s no secret that Elric has lived a long long time. So maybe its rare for him to be blatantly disobeyed. Taylor’s happy to show him what it looks like.

Maybe this will get the point across; “I’m not leaving him. So help me, or fuck off.”

Elric stares, unblinking, and wins the standoff only because his hands suddenly flare with colorless light; makes Taylor look to make sure Cal isn’t injured further.

The giant wolf shudders, then lies still. But before he can accuse Elric of anything wicked the coarse fur starts to recede under their palms. The twitching muzzle and whiskers drawing back as, inch by inch, Cal’s familiar human form is revealed.

“He will be easier to carry as a man than a beast.”

It makes Taylor almost sob in gratitude. “Thank you.”

But it’s still too much — too much weight for them to carry alone, too much blood revealed underneath the shrinking form.

Taylor looks up in panic, sees Nik helping Katherine drag Octavia away — not to shelter, but out of the line of fire.

Instead its Cadence who disengages from Isadora and appears at their sides in a blur. Not that he doesn’t appreciate the help but they’re running out of offensive players.

“Smoke — she’s —”

“She’ll be fine —” — and there’s an unspoken hopefully tacked on there somewhere but Cadence doesn’t let it come to light — “—is he bleeding? Where is he bleeding?”

“Just pick him up so we can go!”

“If I just grab him I could break him.”

“Momma don’t!”

Vera’s scream drags his attention away before he can help. Back to the fight where both of Elric’s guards struggle through bloodied lips to stand, to follow their orders and continue to fight —

— where Tonya reaches out with both hands as if to stop the advance of the bloodwraith and grabs it, instead.

He’s seen what touching that thing does to people. Sees Kristin’s fate in parallel with Tonya’s — or he expects to.

She’s right there in arms’ reach; supple flesh and hot red blood. Her hands around the bloodwraith’s throat should mean nothing; should do nothing. But a shadow passes over the pair holding one another in petrified stillness; agony on both of their twisted faces.

Whatever rolls through them both is all the way deep inside them. Deeper than bones or marrow. Leaves the wraith slack-jawed in a silent scream and Tonya shaking violently with all her rapidly-fading strength left in her hands.

Her hands — where, touching, the air shimmers with heat. The same illusion on a hot desert road at noon. Only the smoke isn’t an illusion. Pungent, black — so thick Taylor’s eyes burn and sting even from across the garden.

It doesn’t have to force Tonya back. She collapses all on her own. Holds her hands close and captive against her breast but smoke isn’t a tangible thing and diffuses out despite her.

Whatever she’s done — whether she meant to or not — the creature has changed. Pulls away from her in search of a better prey. Makes a choice not to take advantage of her vulnerability like it did the werewolf and pursues easier — better — prey.

It doesn’t need to have eyes to sweep a look across the garden. Greedy, hungry snarls on its fangs as it searches for what it seeks.

Everything sort of flips on its head when its sockets fall on Taylor then sweep him by like he’s just another bush or tree.

Whatever drives the thing, whatever it seeks, Taylor isn’t it anymore. No — judging by the way it stops and chokes out a wrathful howl at its new target in spite of its burning gored-out throat?

Taylor notices. Elric notices. Hell even Katherine notices and she’s on the other side. Makes her cup her hands over her mouth and shout so hard her voice breaks—

“CADE! RUN!”

The bloodwraith lurches forward. Taylor’s defenseless, weaponless, but doesn’t let that stop him from throwing himself over Cal’s body like a shield with eyes shut tight.

A shriek. Fingers wrapping around his wrist. Then a familiar and totally inappropriate warmth in his gut — given the situation, of course.

Home.

Without reason or warning he falls into slackened unconsciousness.

[shantelchiitriestowrite]

to say yes with liberation and love rather than with obligation and fear, that must be what living feels like. @lexpendu​ @astormayfair

“No matter how many years, I’ll never understand your love for Akasha.”

“Shhh. You still love me anyways.” ..No arguing that. Ashton’s comment, obviously a bit too loudly for Astor’s liking, was shushed as the vampire queen made her entrance onto the screen.

There was something therapeutic about the most mundane things, about the light caresses between them, about the way their fingers always intertwine when they hold hands, or about the way they sit and watch old movies all over again because Astor likes them. It made a little bit of their time somewhat normal. Ashton would mumble complains about the old movies but he’d always give in, wanting nothing more than to simply lay with him on the couch like they did years ago, downing coconut rum by the bottles and sweet pretzels by the bowls. And that’s exactly what they’d do for tradition sake, wherever they move in the world, they’d still have a couch, rum and pretzels and each other.

So Astor curled up on his side on the couch, head on Ashton’s lap as they turned on the old cheesy vampire movie once more, their two dogs Margot and Dawn laid with them, the golden retriever and german shepherd much more interested in taking a nap than worshiping the vampire queen. Ashton absentmindedly played with Astor’s hair throughout the movie, making snarky remarks already knowing the movie word for word and sneaking kisses to distract Astor for the fun of it. It was the most normal thing for them, and that’s why Ashton never expected the words that so casually came out of Astor’s mouth next, “Will you marry me?”

Those words made Ashton pause everything and the movie was suddenly light years away from his mind. He looked down, just realising Astor had been eyeing him since he asked, losing his composure for a moment before finally finding some words to speak, “.. I mean, you didn’t even get a ring.” And Astor turned flat on his back to look up with that shit eating grin, “Oh please, you never let me buy you anything expensive anyways, you’d just make me return it. We can get them together.” Ashton chuckled, knowing that that was absolutely true. But he stared at the blues below him and Astor was being completely serious. “Why the sudden thought?” Well it wasn’t like they never talked about it, the fleeting thought comes by every now and then when someone from Altolusso gets married, seeming to have started after Seb and Dex’s wedding, that didn’t involve deaths, as if somehow Altolusso weddings finally went right. But it was never a need, they were living together with two dogs and the two girls and they both knew they were in it together for as long as forever may be. A ring and some papers wasn’t necessary. “It isn’t really a sudden thought per se, I have been thinking about it. I love you and I know we don’t need it but it would be nice.. wouldn’t it? A wedding, and a marriage.”

“Yeah.. It would,” Ashton’s fingers began running through Astor’s hair once more, “or you just really want to see me struggle in a suit and tie again.”

“That, and you look cute in a suit and tie.” His eyes slid shut as he laughed, enjoying the touch to his scalp. But Ashton leaned down, “As do you,” his hand cradling Astor’s cheek before pressing down his lips, murmuring between kisses, “I love you too.”

Astor began to sit up as they kissed, hands reaching to the back for Ashton’s neck but Ashton pulled away for a second, a bubble of laugher coming up seeing Astor pout, “Are we gonna go full viking on this one? Do we need sacrificial chickens?”

Astor’s eyes lit up at the idea, but he preferred to get back into the kissing part of the conversation, leaning in as he spoke, “Yes. Okay maybe just a little viking. No chickens. I don’t know, Morri can work out the details.” And with a shrug he tugged Ashton back in. The warmth and pure joy never stops buzzing in his chest with this man no matter the years, one, four, or ten, and the two, that didn’t have much to smile for before, are just constantly sharing grins with each other. Sometimes Ashton really don’t know what he’d do without him, and vice versa.

It took them a few minutes before remembering what started this, Astor breaking the kiss only slightly as he rested his forehead on Ashton’s, “So?” His lips were still hovering over the other, Ashton drawing up a grin as blues on blues, fingers tugging hair on the back of Astor’s neck, “Wanna ask me again?” Astor snorted at the nerve this man had but he held Ashton’s face gently, whispering over the most genuine words, lips right over lips, “Ashton Finley Ryder, will you give me the greatest honour anyone could ever have and marry me?”

“Yes, always yes,” Ashton replied a little too eagerly to give Astor a proper reply. There was no one he had to answer to anymore, no orders, no Elders, no commanders, and only to his heart. There was no question to what his answer was but he wanted to say it and make it real and tangible - of saying yes with liberation and love rather than obligation and fear. For once it seemed like he had control of his life once again, and it hadn’t felt like that ever since he walked up that stage for the first time as an astronaut. He felt almost numb with the feelings beneath his ribs and his watery eyes threatening the spill. Astor could see that look on Ashton’s face and understand what was running through his mind, they didn’t need a lot of words to understand each other on a level most others can’t. He simply flashed a smile, taking Ashton’s hands wrapped round his neck into his own, brushing his lips over the knuckles, “You make me the luckiest, happiest man in the whole universe, you know that?” Ashton open his mouth ready to make a rebuttal but Astor continued, “Plus, I want to make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” Ashton rolled his eyes, pulling him into his arms, a soft trail of kisses up Astor’s neck and jaw as he murmured over his lips, “I’m pretty sure literally everyone already knows that I’m yours. Always.”

“Good,” Astor grinned, “And I, you..” 

Their moment was interrupted by the turn of the doorknob as Morri and Lili walked in, announcing their presence, “We’re hooooome.” It was the ladies turn to do the groceries and they came with the riches from their adventure. “We’re hoooome!” Lili echoed after her mother, arms wrapped around a light bag as she skipped through the hallway. The two men glanced towards them, probably caught in a slightly intimate time but they could only flash excited smiles. “We’re.. We’re getting married,” Ashton glanced back to Astor, it took a few seconds for the reality to sink in for themselves and he brushed over Astor’s lips both of them whispering with laughter only to each other as if to seal the deal, “We’re getting married.” It still felt unreal but the more they said it the easier it was to believe. 

And of course squeals of joy erupted from the girls as Morri tried to put down all the groceries and run over to her boys at the same time to embrace them, Lili following right behind to join in the group hug, seeming even more excited than Morri if that was possible, “Gosh you two sure took your time, I couldn’t just wait forever!” Any longer and she’d probably pop the question for them herself. And then a flurry of questions were being thrown at them, demanding how it happened (thought it literally just kinda did), what wedding, when, where, what kind of cake, Morri was already in wedding planning mode. 

And they hadn't had the slightest idea about everything she was asking, but it already felt right, as it always has between them.

[iv-kplpt]

on being in love

so i’m now a part of a group dc rp, about batman villains escaping from arkham asylum. i rp as penguin and i got GM’s permission to put charlie in the universe, so... this happened, between playing ovw, cooking rice and having depression. a short vignette about oswald and charlie and promises and doubts.

the original in polish can also be found on this blog.

Oswald had been in Arkham for six long, tiring months. He shouldn't be there - he should be in Blackgate; but there he was, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, in this one part of Gotham he hated.

(His mother walked those corridors once. Sometimes he could hear her voice, sometimes he could feel the tender touch of her fingers on his cheek.)

He spent six months waiting for his chance to escape. Six months of loneliness, because he firmly refused to integrate with other "patients". Especially with the Joker. Especially with Dent, whom he created.

(Harvey Dent, Two Face, his opus magnum. Their cells were exactly across each other... Every day Oswald was standing face to face with the consequences of his decisionsand every day he wasn't able to force himself to feel even the faintest sting of remorse or regret. He destroyed this man's life - so what? It was meant to be...)

His biggest problem during those one hundred and eighty days was not Dent's presence; nor it was his lack of empathy and his slowly dying humanity. No, his biggest problem was absence. The lack of another person at his side - or him not being present at her side.

Her name was Charlotte, Charlotte Schiller-Aberdeen - but she demanded to be called just Charlie. She was a young widow; she had hair red like blood on their hands and eyes blue like forget-me-nots he was trying to grow for her. They met shortly before he started to bring his half-baked plans to life; they met in Peperoncino, a bar belonging to Carmine Falcone. Oswald had a free pass there, due to being a protégé of Salvatore Maroni, gangster's close friend; but Charlie wasn't supposed to be there. That night he saved her life, lead by impulse and a sting of sympathy for the resolute young woman. That night he stole a first kiss from her; as well as many others. That night he left a mark of his teeth on her neck, for which she repaid him by scratching his back with her fingernails, drawing blood in the process. The next morning Charlie snuck out when he was still asleep, his heart in her pocket, and hers on a pillow next to his face - but tey only realized it one month later, when she returned to Gotham in search of a new start and him, him, him.

They fell madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly for each other - he fell in love with the softness of her hair and gentleness of her smile and the light way she spoke of matters terrible and dark; she fell in love with blood on his hands and the darkness in his heart and a scar running through the bridge of his nose. Nobody knew, except for them; they had to hide, because he was a criminal, and she was a young millionnaire, looking for her place among the members of Gotham social elite. Charlie was emanating a mysterious aura - she wouldn't let anyone into her life, she never gave out any details. Her gaze didn't carry a promise, and her smile wasn't an invitation to ask questions. She was kind, charming and funny; and it was enough for keeping people from asking questions. For keeping them from pushing any further.

In whole Gotham only Oswald knew that Charlie killed her husband. She took his life with her cool, pale hands, with which she'd stroke Oswald on his scruffy chin; in whole Gotham only Oswald knew what does Charlie look like without makeup and high heels, how she looks like when she wakes up in the morning, how she tilts her head when his teeth - like fairytale vampire's fangs - find her neck. In whole Gotham only Oswald knew; and in whole Gotham only she knew a handful of his own secrets. In whole Gotham only they knew; and they liked it that way.

And it was her absence that had been causing Oswald the most pain during those six months. Nobody knew about their relationship; nobody knew about the woman who stole Penguin's heart. That was the ultimatum he gave her one night, before everything went to hell - "I will not drag you down. Nobody will know about us. If this fails, if they catch me... I won't as much as mention you."

"If this happens, Oz..." she then whispered back, sliding something into his hand and looking him in the eye. "If this happens... I'll be waiting for you. Here, in this house. There will always be a place for you here, and I will always love you."

(Later, when he was left alone, he finally looked at what she gave him; a pebble. An ordinary - though very blue - pebble. Only after a long while he realized the full symbolism. He did the same in return - his pebble was yellow.)

He missed her every day and every night; and she couldn't even visit him, because that would make the meticulously built facade to fall. She couldn't visit - and he didn't want her to. There were people he was willing to drag down with him, but she was never on that list.

(Lying on his uncomfortable bed - that was nothing compared to a luxurious water bed in the bedroom of her home in Crest Hill - and throwing and catching the cool, smooth pebble she gave him he wondered if he's on her mind half as often as she was on his.)

He desired very few things more, than to show up on her doorstep, take her in his arms and shower her face with kisses, one for each freckle; to feel her hands on his shoulders, close his eyes and let her place a thousand of kisses soft like butterfly wings on his narrow, cruel lips.

Yes, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, Penguin, monster, terrorist, thief and a con artist - was in love. He found someone who looked at the blood on his hands and a promises of murder in his words and burning hatred in his eyes - and then said "you're awful, I adore you".

(They were saying "I love you" in so many different ways. "Kiss me", "I bought you camembert", "come to bed", "be safe", "I missed you", "I want to raise a dog with you", "I want to conquer Gotham and destroy Bruce Wayne with you", "I put some flowers at your father's bust today", "let me know if one of those elite schmucks disrespects you, I'll cut them into pieces".)

Six months with no contact, six months without her warm body at her side, six months without her soft hair between his fingers, six months without her fingers on his cheek. Six months without love.

Sometimes he'd find himself in doubt. Was there still someone waiting for him out there? Maybe Charlie changed her opinion on him, maybe she changed the locks, maybe she abandoned Gotham same way she abandoned so many other places, so many other hearts? Maybe there was no "us" anymore, maybe there was nothing for him to come back to?

Usually simply putting a hand in his pocket and squeezing the cool, smooth pebble she gave him was enough. A symbol of promise, a symbol of loyalty. Penguins mate for life.

He missed her presence. He missed her gaze and playful cynicism with which she was taking his needlessly complicated, painstakingly eloquent confessions and declarations.

("You have my heart in your hands... And it's more fragile than it seems. Be gentle with it." "I like solving puzzles, Oz. If it breaks - we'll piece it back together, it'll look brand new. You know, the Japanese turned fixing broken pots into art...")

Oswald spent long six months on longing, daydreaming and muffling his own fears. When the grand night came, the night of judgement, the night to remember - he hesitated for only the briefest of moments.

(The pebble felt heavy in his pocket, giving him courage with its dead presence. For a moment Oswald felt like he's at her side again.)

He made his decision, putting his doubts off. The potential heartbreak and resulting dilemmas could wait; Oswald had a plan to realize. It wasn't his plan, and Penguin kind of felt like he wasn't even a part of it - but he wasn't going to complain.

In the company of the Joker, Harley Quinn, Two Face, Scarecrow, Deadshot and Poison Ivy Penguin started his tenacious endeavors, meant to take him to Asylum's exit. They spilt a river of blood in the process; but it didn't matter. Penguin knew Charlie doesn't mind the blood on his hands and face. The moment when he'd be able to finally take his beloved into his arms, to hear her voice was only a few hours away.

(I'm coming, my love, I will burn Gotham down if anyone tries to stop me; and then I'll kiss you among the ashes.)

***

In another, better, quieter part of Gotham Charlie Schiller-Aberdeen was watching the news with bated breath. Jack Ryder was reporting on events in Arkham, his voice shaking; a group of prisoners (oh I'm sorry, patients) took the matters in their own hands - among them her beloved.

(Mom, dad... I met somebody. His name is Oswald and he has nothing to his name, nothing but old shame and spilled blood...)

Every day for the past six months Charlie had been beginning her morning with tears, when after opening her eyes she couldn't see her lover next to her. Every day would begin with tears, which Pingu - a Shiba Inu they adopted - would at first try to lick up, doing whatever he could in order to cheer his mom up.

(The dog missed Oswald as well; he was mopish and was spending a lot of time staring at the garage door, as if he was expecting he'll manage to get his second own home by sheer willpower.)

At first they weren't planning to get a dog; they never planned anything. The dog showed up in their life because of Bruce Wayne - a man Oswald hated more than anything was very persistent in his attempts to befriend Charlie, blissfully unaware of who stole her heart. One day she told him that no, he can't come over for tea, because her domesticated penguin won't like her.

"Domesticated penguin?" he repeated, visibly surprised.

"I have a puppy, named Pingu." she improvised quickly. "He hates strangers... Especially men."

Charlie loved Oswald - and she knew he loves her back. She knew that Oswald - a hardened criminal, a boxer, an arms dealer, con artist and a killer - is nothing like her well-behaved husband, whom she killed; Harry had been lying to her for months, hiding his treachery behind a mask of a poor boy with heart of gold. After finding out about her doubts regarding him, Oswald - who wanted to get his fortune back and was prepared to do everything in order to achieve it - almost robbed a bank, just to prove her that no, he's not using her for her fortune, that he wants her, and not her money.

She fell for this monster... Maybe not at a first sight; but for sure at a first "you alright?" when they were in bed for the first time, and he just bit her just a tad too hard and her blood was on his lips, and she winced in pain, and he - still holding her hands above her head, just the way she liked it, just the way he liked it - got up a little and looked her in the eye.)

(When is monster not a monster? Oh... When you love it.)

"Monster", people were calling him when he got arrested; "my beloved" she'd call him in hushed whispers, when nobody could hear her. This murderer was kissing her in the morning and was making her scrambled eggs and was arguing about the second season of Twin Peaks with her and was listening to her emotional thouths on House of Cards. She loved Oswald and all his baggage - all the darkness, all the sins, the past, the future, the present. Maybe he was a monster - but he was her monster. And she knew this beast is not going to hurt her.

(Oswald was proudly parading around with his sins and his darkness exposed; and she preferred it over people who were hiding their demons. She preferred Oswald and his honest "yes, I killed the mayor and I enjoyed every single moment" over Harry Spencer, whose honeyed smile and warm eyes were hiding cold, venomous indifference and greed.)

So when it became clear that Penguin is escaping from Arkham Asylum - that he's coming home (his arms wrapped around her feel like home, his presence fills her with familiar warmth) - Charlie first danced a triumphant dance around her living room, wearing only Oswald's shirt and boxers, slightly confused Pingu jumping and barking around her.

"Oz is coming home, Pingu!" she informed the dog joyfully, to which he tilted his head and wagged his tail. "You hear? Oz is coming back!"

In response, the dog barked.

Next Charlie did some laundry - just in case - and went to the grocery store, where she bought out their entire supply of camembert. Oswald loved camembert; she never understood this love, but something was telling her Arkham never gave him a chance to indulge in his favorite culinary disaster.

(She also bought champagne, strawberries, peanut butter cookies and a whole lot of other things he liked.)

And then... She waited. She waited for the moment when Oz would barge into her home, bringing the smell of danger and death and blood of the innocent with him. She waited to hear his voice and his awful cockney, here and there sprinkled with Polish.

("I grew up among the Poles! They took me in... Apparently by their standards I'm a delight."

"Mmm. Not only by their standards.")

*** Finally the moment came. Oswald - with his heart in his mouth and and his mask under his shoulder and some blood smeared on his face - put his hand on the doorknob and pushed.

The door weren't closed; why would it be? Charlie stopped locking the door the moment she heard about the events at Arkham Asylum.

Pingu grew during those six months; but he still had that familiar spark in his eye and still very obviously loved Oswald a lot, considering how he started to instantly and adamantly demand love and attention from him.

All the lights were turned off in Charlie's home in Crest Hill when Oswald showed up for the first time in six months. He put his mask down on a kitchen table and turned around, to go up the stairs, where he was sure his beloved is, fast asleep-

Charlie was standing at the top of the stairs, staring at Oswald downstairs. Her sight stole the air out of his lungs; she was more beautiful than he remembered, with her hair messy and her eyes sleepy and the skin of her cheek slightly red and her night gown sliding off her right shoulder.

(Oswald Cobblepot was standing downstairs and he was staring at her without a word, blood smudged on his face. He looked almost as beautiful as he did when they first met; moonlight was luminating his face and even from the distance Charlie could see his stubble he loved to tease her skin with and a scar on his nose she loved to kiss and his eyes, focused and serious.)

"Hey, darling." he finally softly said and Charlie ran down the stairs crying and threw herself into his arms, tightly wrapping her arms around his neck and desperately kissed him, not minding the blood and ash he was covered with.

All of Oswald's doubts vanished without a trace when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

Gotham City was in a state of red alert and the flames were still dancing in Arkham Asylum and Batman was carefully listening to Jim Gordon's every word on the roof of the police station and Joker and Two Face started to argue over leadership in their group of runaways, but none of this mattered, everything could wait till dawn.

"Did you miss me?" Oswald whispered between kisses, to which Charlie scoffed.

"Every day." she whispered back eventually and Penguin smiled with poorly hidden satisfaction.

They were together again, they were still in love and that was all that mattered to them, on their tiny island among the crashing waves.

[xqueen-ofthedead]

The Vampire Queen

About Sophia

BASICS

Full Name: Elisabeth Valkyrie Solberg Aliases/Nicknames: Elsa (unused), Sophia Batori Birth date: January 18th, 1503 Place of Birth: Scandinavia Age: 515 | Death at 25 Race: Vampire Occupation: None Home Address: 17841 Bond St. Prized Possessions: While possessions mean little to her, she still holds close to her wedding ring. It sits on a necklace given to her by her twin brother.  Pets: None.

PHYSICAL

Eye Color: Deep chocolate brown / red  Hair Color, Length, and/or Style:  Auburn brown, rests as far down as her mid back.  Physical Conditions: None Health: No health concerns after death Marks, Scars, Tattoos:  Single piercing in each ear, two small hearts tattooed to the outer side of her wrist. She has a small fist-sized circular scar on her left shoulder-blade from being staked, she often forgets about.  Peculiar Physical Traits: She has a few freckles on her face, typically hidden by makeup.  Typical fashion style: Keeps up with the latest fashion trends in the area; always looks her best. 

INTERESTS

Likes: Socializing, nightlife, protecting her home, big cities, cocktail bars, dancing, quiet days, ruling the coven. Dislikes: Brash and wild, dogs, dirt and filth, television, summers, getting trapped in the council office.    Hobbies: Sewing, shopping, clubbing, hunting. Favorite Food: Blood Least Favorite Food: All food.  Fears: Becoming close to someone, losing her family, the fall of the coven. Goals: To settle in the new city, recruit and train the Ryker girl, reclaim the coven, take down the Valkyries. Flaws: Cruel, abusive, finicky, spiteful, damaged. Secrets: She still resides in Crescent City, she is a Valkyrie.  Strengths: Dedication, experience, social status, convincing, power. Greatest Achievement: Ruling over the vampire coven, building Chicago and the Court of Miracles.  Biggest regret: Becoming a vampire, leaving Samuel Lugh. 

PERSONALITY

Psychological Conditions: Can be considered narcissistic. Positive Characteristics:  Dainty, ambitious, nurturing, sociable, dependable. Negative Characteristics: Pretentious, manipulative, nostalgic, brazen, egotistic, heartbroken. Disposition: A bit negative.  On the rare occasion she is nice, she will try to be more optimistic and give hope to whomever she is speaking to. Intelligence: She has a high level of knowledge on a number of subjects, all of which could be useless in this day of age. She has plenty of experience to back with her knowledge. Motivation: Her own interests, her coven’s interest.  Mannerisms: Typically calm, reserved, well-kept and poised. Not afraid to put you in your place on the down-low if you start trouble. She’s sneaky and works behind your back.  Morals: She tends to have an “every man for himself” mindset but works to do everything she can for her people.  Superstitions: None. She lost all beliefs in those years ago. Values: Promises, ignorance of others, family- to an extent. You shouldn’t betray others, but if you do, you will pay.  Nervous Habits:  grows quiet, seems impeccably calm, becomes generous out of no where, stares intensely.  Enraged When: The Valkyries succeed, someone does not follow through on their end. Depressed or Sad When: She thinks of her children.  Character’s Soft Spot: Ryder and his family.  Race’s Influence on Behavior: Relies and seeks out human blood. She never bothered hunting animals or blood banks. 

BIOGRAPHY

The Valkyrie clan originated in a small village in ancient Scandinavian territory. The village was self sustaining; housing farms, woodcutters, and blacksmiths. While they could easily live on their own, most traveled to the city to sell their goods and earn some extra coin for the town. This opened the threat of robbers, thieves, and surprisingly, supernaturals. Demons and goblins who lurk inside and around the city often terrorized the villagers. After a wide-scale attack on villages by vampires, most hired retired or local soldiers and hunters to protect their homes, thus creating the “supernatural hunter” job. The village hired the Valkyries, old soldiers and supernatural hunters to protect the villagers of the monstrous threats. 

The Valkyries were said to be descendants of wolves, gracing them with tactics and natural skills for hunting both food and monsters. While the mother and father were both werewolves, this allowed for them to be disguised in the village. No one questioned when the wolves would come fight off demons in the night, and the villagers actually worshiped these canine guardians. The villagers also did not question how the Valkyrie couple did not age and took it as a gift from the gods (or the couple was a title which the family replaced someone to serve the role regularly) to protect them. 

Elisabeth (Elsa) was born in the middle of the Valkyrie line, a few minutes after her twin, Edmund. They were raised with the idea the family solely hunted for food and happened to protect villages outside the village limits on random occasions. They were not told of their werewolf nature until they reached their late teens in order to protect their reputation in the village. Their parents did not allow them to turn until they were much older due to the slow aging process.

When they became of age, Ed and Elsa became supernatural hunters with their parents and older siblings. They were the only children to remain in the village and protect their home. They enjoyed the simple life as opposed to their older brothers, who left immediately for the city. When they had less work, the twins settled down to a normal village life. 

Elsa married another hunter in the city, a man named Peter Solberg. Together they helped the village hunt local wildlife, typically rabbit, elk, and deer. Elsa did her best to keep her supernatural hunting a secret, wishing for Peter to remain ignorant about the monstrous threat. She regularly joined Ed when needed, and the two served as a team of bounty hunters for neighboring villages as well. Elsa trained just as hard as her brother, becoming skilled with a bow and a dagger while Ed favored swords and guns. Elsa was also a great negotiator, convincing other supernaturals to work with them before their demise. 

When Elsa was 20 she had her first child; a boy named Roland. She was immediately attached the boy and spent every moment she was not working with him. She gave up game hunting and focused solely on supernatural in order to alternate work shifts with Peter. At this point the twins offered to have Peter help fight supernaturals with them. 

Peter died about four year into hunting with the twins, while Elsa was pregnant with their second child. This led to their parents suggesting becoming werewolves sooner rather than later as their tradition followed. Ed turned right away, Elsa waiting until her second child was old enough and not disrupt their life by turning. She stopped hunting during her pregnancy to assist in the healing process from becoming a widow. Ed assisted his sister and moved into her home, and he aided raising her children. While she loved her husband, she enjoyed living closer to her twin once more. She had a daughter who she named Ramona. 

While out hunting, Elsa and Ed ran into a new race: vampires.  Having little experience with them, they tried their best to eliminate them. Yet their tactics only work on demons and goblins, and they could not kill the vampires as easily. Before the vampire made his escape, Elsa was attacked and bitten. As the poison slowly seeped into her veins, they ran to their parents for help. The Valkyries encountered vampires long before the twins were born, and they knew exactly what their daughter was becoming. They told Ed to kill his twin for the safety of the village and their own lives. Instead, Ed did not believe his sister would become a monster and took her home. 

Moments after leaving their parents’ cottage in the woods, the poison was in full force and Elsa turned into a vampire. Expecting her brother to have kindness in the event, she was shocked when Ed turned against her. He knew the legends of vampires, as all in the village did. He was ready to take the vampire down despite the vampire was his beloved twin sister moments ago. She had no chance to show him she was dangerous before he was attacking her. Elsa fled, hiding out in the forest surrounding the city. 

After a few days of wandering, Elsa found the local vampire coven that turned her. She followed after a woman named Sofia Báthory, a woman from the east who was said to be the queen of all vampires.  Elsa trained under the queen with intention to gain control and return home over joining them. After a year she returned to her old home but was not met with welcomed arms. Ed did everything he could to keep Elsa out, claiming he was only protecting his niece and nephew. Since Elsa wanted her children back, Ed developed the idea that she manipulated or harmed them already. He killed baby Ramona before her eyes, insisting she must have been born a vampire. While he tried to kill Roland as well, Elsa, who was now heartbroken, fled. She would eventually learn that Ed accidentally turned Roland into a werewolf instead of killing him.  

Over the next century, Elsa visited her son regularly in the middle of the night. While she watched him age slowly, she wanted to remain present in his life. While she had every chance to kidnap him, she knew he needed her twin to train him. By the turn of the century, Ed was planning to move away from the village, perhaps to a new land altogether. He caught Elsa visiting one night and immediately left with Roland. Elsa did her best to track them, but Ed ran far. Elsa remained full time with the vampire coven, more heartbroken than before. The aided the coven by hunting any supernaturals that crossed them, especially werewolves. While she was a werewolf by birth, she resented the kind for isolating her the moment she needed them. 

When talk of the new English colonies reached their ears, the Queen Báthory knew they needed to move west. The coven grew over the last century to fit into a city, so it was time to move on. Sofia offered Elsa a portion of the coven and told her the plan. Her birth name was not Sofia Báthory, but it served as a title for their pack. She wanted Elsa to take on the name as well and serve as queen for her coven, representing the Vampire Queen’s coven in the new land. Without something to hold her back, Elsa accepted and moved to the colonies in time for the Revolutionary War. 

Now calling herself Sophia Batori, she met a local to help the coven move and adjust, Zachariah Carswell. The coven joined an order which trained fledgling to secretly fight in the war. It was a fascinating task which Sophia put a great deal of effort into. Sophia’s influence spilled over, allowing her to gain control of yet another army of vampires. She enjoyed the fame and leadership more than she probably should have. She seemed to be finding the life she truly desired.

Around 1830 Sophia moved her coven west, spreading out her influences the best she could. They settled in the up-and-coming city of Chicago, serving as one of the first supernatural clans to settle in the area. One night when she felt low from the memories of her past, she met an angel named Samuel Lugh. He took her in and helped her cope, and in time they fell in love. Together the two of them influenced the development of the Court of Miracles, and naturally stretched her powers as far as they could go. She instantly took a position in the Court’s High Council, wanting to rise to the top and rule over more than the vampires. She saw the city and the council as her new child and did all she could to help it grow. As time went on, Sophia put her influences where ever she could. They helped build up the city, gathered armies to fight in the Civil War, and saw further developments in the Court of Miracles. 

By the turn of the century, the vampires were a powerful race. They were wealthy due to the ability to rob their food source. Their powers of protection exceeded everyone’s expectations. Sophia continued to have her own army of fledgling; those willing to sacrifice themselves to protect the Court. The local werewolf pack, who refused to join the Court, was under her rule as well. Her men hunted humans who stalked the supernatural community while she led an elite team to hunt supernaturals on the side. It was through this service Sophia’s life took another drastic turn when a new pack moved to Chicago. Edmund’s pack.

 Under the new alias and modernized look, Edmund had no idea the vampire queen was his twin sister. And she wanted to keep it that way. She planned a revenge plot against her brother, refusing to see him succeed while he lived in Chicago. However, Edmund had his own plan up his sleeve. Never trusting vampires from the start, Edmund and his pack exposed Sophia for enslaving the werewolves, hunting other supernaturals, and continuously killing humans for blood. The High Council responded by stripping Sophia of her authority and control over the Court’s defenses and appointed Edmund in her place. 

Livid from the setback, Sophia stopped at nothing to take Edmund down. Her plan morphed into something more sinister and personal with the birth of his daughter, who he also named Ramona. Sophia’s primary goal became killing Edmund’s children, especially the daughter. An eye for an eye in her mind. Without her previous resources, Sophia took time building up a plan and attack. She waited until the girl was old enough before she made her move, which resulted in killing one of the boys instead. While it was not the original plan, it caused Edmund and his wife to leave the city. The battle was now between Sophia and his eldest son, Ryder. 

Sophia spent years fighting against Ryder, neither one aware they were directly related to each other.  In time Sophia learned the truth about Ryder, but was threatened by Edmund to never expose the truth. Sophia slowly built her plan around the youngest daughter once more; if anything, she would be satisfied with that kill. The case against her was once again brought forth to the council, this time clearly obvious she intended to take out the Valkyrie family. The council turned against her once more, and Samuel banned Sophia from the city. In her anger she had one final attack; kill Ryder’s baby mama and her ex servant as well as kidnap her two grandsons. When the plan backfired, she allowed Ryder to win by faking her own death. Without the queen caring over the coven, vampires ran wild through the city. The  Court of Miracles and a larger portion of Chicago was destroyed, causing any survivors to flee west. 

Sophia stayed low for many years. She had no interest in bothering her brother or his family, at least not after losing her city, coven, and the love of her life. About a century passed before she was found and began socializing once more with a small coven of older vampires. It was through them she learned about a talented vampire; a witch by birth who continued to have full control of her powers even in death. Sophia wanted this power for her own, aiming to use the girl as a new front for the vampire queen role. After learning of the downfall of the Valkyries, she was more inclined to move to Crescent City. Now that her son is gone, she wants to protect her grandchildren despite knowing it would be an unwanted relationship. 

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: She was raised by both mother and father, who were a team of hunters and werewolves. She grew up very close to her father and trained under him in the family business. She lost contact with her father long ago.  Siblings: She has three older brothers, two younger brothers, and a sister. She was not particularly close to any of them and lost contact with most of them when she became of age. Occasionally an older brother would return for a hunting mission if needed, but they would be on their way and not contact them. She does not know what has become of any of them now. The sibling who she was closest to was her twin brother, Edmund. The two remained in their home village and took on hunting jobs. She blames him for not protecting her and leading her to become a vampire due to the hatred he felt for her afterwards.  Despite being his twin sister, Edmund could only see her as a dangerous vampire who had to be taken down. She sought revenge on all wolves, especially her family, for her brother making attempts on her life and kidnapping and killing her children for becoming a vampire. She received her revenge by attempting to kill his wife and daughter many years later but ultimately killed one of his sons. He hunted after her for years and destroyed her coven and position in the Court of Miracles in Chicago during the 1990′s. She prefers to hide from him now and has one neutral contact with him after Ryder’s death.  Children: She had two children before her death; Roland and Ramona. She was close to both children, Ryder a bit more due to his older age. She did all she could to love and protect them despite her job and losing their father. She died when Roland was about 5, Ramona 1. When she returned home a year or so later for her children, Edmund fought back and killed Ramona while turning Roland into a werewolf. For decades she remained close by, keeping tabs on her son and visiting him in the middle of the night. At one point during the early 1600′s, Edmund caught on and hid the boy, which caused her to lose him for good. She met her son later, but was unaware it was the same boy. She kept up the front of Sophia Batori and became Ryder’s enemy for a majority of their time in Chicago. When she learned the truth, Edmund made her swear never to tell the news, for not even his wife knew the truth. Being a woman of her word, and believing Edmund would try to kill the boy, she never told him. Now she regrets it after he passed and is mortified for her behavior towards him. She has three grandchildren and four great-grandchildren from Ryder’s line.  Friends: The only friend she is still in contact with is Vivian Bellamy-Boyle. Neutral affiliates are Sadie Taylor, Owen Cole, Nora Cade, Lucas Weston, and Roxanne Cade-Ryker.  Clan/Coven: Previous vampire coven leader. Although she still holds the title of queen, most of this coven does not know she is in town or alive. She is slowly telling who she chooses she is around.  Love Interests: While she was a human, she was in love and married to a man named Peter Solberg. He died on a hunting mission while the children were young. Still heartbroken from the loss, it took her many centuries to replace him. In the town of what would soon become Chicago, she met Samuel Lugh, an angel walking on Earth. While it took time to open up to him, she became reliant on his company and care. She helped him build Chicago and the Court of Miracles while their friendship grew. He quickly fell in love with her, and in time she loved him as well. He was the only one she fully opened up to before the Valkyries returned into her life. She tried dealing with her past on her own, which got her in trouble and drove the two apart. She lost him for good during the downfall of the Court of Miracles, when she would stop at nothing to see her brother fall. She regrets how she treated Samuel and longs for him back. She is still single to this day.  Enemies: Her greatest enemy is her twin brother, Edmund. She also dubs the Valkyrie line and all werewolves her enemy.  Time Mostly Spent With: Herself, Vivian. View of Others:  Sophia often asks as though she is higher than many of the people around her. At times, she may be. She is not as polite and welcoming as one would expect of a Council leader. View on Self: Although Sophia may act as if she is very focused on herself, she has many internal struggles and pains from her past. She is not always proud of herself. Viewed by Others: Most people do not favor or trust Sophia for good reason. Many refuse to give her the chance to show she is capable of kindness, be it due to her actions or her vampire nature. Hero: None. 

EXTRA

Physical Abilities: She has above average strength, tracking, and speed, which comes with the vampirism. Mental Abilities: She is capable of learning new skills faster than the average human. Magical Abilities: Aside from an immortal life, she has the ability to heal quickly. Special Talents: None, other than being a raging bitch. Headcanons: Train Raylin to take over the coven, since that bitch is freaking gifted.             -Try to get closer to Logan, Landon, and Rylie.