#dracula do be on the brain tonight

[mcchipisfried]

Can we hear your 15 min rant

Omg that is everything I have wanted to hear from any of my irl friends who have the unfortunate opportunity to listen to my 1 hour voice messages

Okay so

I would be amenable to this (I have been doxxed multiple times i might as well put out one of the recordings of me talking about dracula) BUT I might have to edit it because I said my friends name outloud a few times. Also that recording will make no sense because I suck at analyzing and my theories make no sense

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [5] - Dusk

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Some evenings come with threats.

Word Count: 4242 

CW: Violence, explicit language, blood, threats

Series Masterlist

“I have no idea why you don’t like him.”

“Well, that makes two of us because I have no idea why you like him.”

You rolled your eyes at Jamie as you grabbed the coffee pot, then filled his cup while he pointed at you with his fork. The diner wasn’t very busy yet; you had the time to focus your full attention on him after taking a couple of orders to the tables, so you leaned on the counter, then stole a fry off his plate.

“Logan is nice.”

“Oh Logan is nice?” he repeated with a scoff. “He’s a giant ball of macho bullshit with no brains, that’s what he is.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh come on Jamie!”

“I’m serious,” he said as you crossed your arms to shoot him a lighthearted glare.

“You know, I wasn’t like this when you introduced Nik to me.”

“Nik is my soulmate,” he said without hesitation. “I doubt the brute caveman is your soulmate.”

“He's not a caveman.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“He just…he doesn’t look very friendly,” you said in a rush to defend him. “I’m aware of it but he’s been to wars and stuff, so it’s kinda expected—”

“Which is another red flag, sunshine,” Jamie insisted. “When was he born, you said?”

“1832.”

“You have a crush on Dracula: Lumberjack Edition?”

“He doesn’t give off vampire vibes!”

“No, he gives off werewolf vibes,” he said. “And just in case a certain popular franchise has escaped your notice, they’re both equally bad.”

You scrunched your nose up at him, still leaning to the counter while he sipped his coffee.

“What happened to the guy Nik set you up with?”

“Oh that date was a disaster,” you said with a shrug. “He talked about himself the whole time. I barely got two words in.”

“I hate when they do that,” he grumbled, making you smile.

“I swear to you Logan is not a bad guy,” you said. “He’s the furthest thing from that—which by the way, we might be just arguing over nothing. I honestly doubt he sees me that way.”

He shot you a look of disbelief.

“Sunshine.”

“No I really don’t think—”

“A lot of people you cross paths with see you that way.”

“You and Julie both say that but that’s because you’re my best friends.”

“No, that’s because we see how people look at you,” he said. “Unlike you.”

“Yeah but Logan—”

“Logan will make a move on you one of these days, and I think you should turn him down when he does.”

You wiggled your brows. “It’d be a bit difficult to turn him down while I’m climbing him like a tree.”

“Fuck him once and leave him.”

“I already decided what our future cabin in the woods will be like.”

He let out a groan, burying his face into his hands, making you giggle.

“If Logan and I start dating and that’s a huge if, considering I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me that way,” you said. “We’ll go on a double date with you and Nik, and you will see he’s actually the nicest guy in the entire world.”

“I hope he’s terrible in bed so that you will snap out of this,” he motioned at you as his phone vibrated, making him check it before he took a huge sip of his coffee, then stood up.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow your car by the way,” he said. “It’s just that, Nik’s grandma needs a ride to the airport and…”

“It’s totally fine,” you said with a wave of your hand. “Don’t even mention it.”

“I’ll bring it tonight to your place.”

“Like I said, it’s totally fine,” you said. “Tell Nik’s grandma I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said, leaning over the counter to kiss your cheek, then walked out of the diner. You grabbed his plate and mug, but as soon as you entered the kitchen, the boss’ office door opened and he peeked his head out.

“Hey,” he said. “Bad news, Stacey can’t make it, she has the flu. Do you think you could close tonight?”

Shit.

Of course you had to close when you didn’t have a car.

You pressed your lips together, then forced yourself to smile before nodding your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “I can close tonight, no problem.”

                                                  *

Today was not going as planned, at all.

Creepy customers weren’t exactly new to you. You were pretty sure that everyone in service industry had to deal with them at one point or another, God knew you did. But usually, once you turned them down, they finished their meals and left without leaving you a tip.

They didn’t just sit there at the booth, staring at you for almost an hour.

Paul was by the grill as you walked into the kitchen and heaved a sigh, pressing your palms into your eyes, your heart beating in your throat.

It was fine. If he stayed there towards the closing time, you were just going to ask Paul to handle him, he was pretty good at that. He would deal with him, and afterwards you would just call a cab and go home and forget about today.

“You okay?” Paul asked and you dropped your hands, then nodded, clearing your throat.

“Um—yeah. Just tired I guess.”

“You sure?”

“Uh huh,” you said. “Slow day but I went to bed late, so…”  

He grinned. “Your new boyfriend is keeping you up late?”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s nothing like that.”

“No?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t even know if he likes me that way to be honest.”

“What, he just came to drive you home the other day out of the goodness in his heart?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. He’s nice.”

“Honey, I’m terribly sorry to shatter your trust in the goodness of us men, but we usually don’t do that just for any girl.”

“Yeah but Logan is nice,” you insisted. “Not to mention, he’s out of my league.”

“Did you break all the mirrors in your place or something?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Paul.”

“Take it from a guy, Logan definitely wants to…” he wiggled his brows and you grabbed the table cloth, then tossed it at him for him to catch it in the air.

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“So your crush isn’t keeping you up, then what is?”

“Have you met me?” you asked him. “I run on stress.”

“You know what’s good for stress, right?” he asked with a smirk but as soon as he stole a look out of the small kitchen window into the diner, then pulled his brows together. “Did I Beetlejuice this motherfucker or something?”

“What?” you asked, turning your head to follow his line of sight, then gasped when you saw Logan walking to the counter to sit on a stool.

At first you were surprised at the relief that hit you out of nowhere so fast that it made your head spin, because normally whenever you were around Logan, your heart would be making flips, adrenaline rushing through you. It took you a moment to understand what it was, and once you did, you let out a breath.

It was safety.

Somehow, something in your body knew Logan being there meant you were completely safe.

You let out a breath and pushed open the door to step outside, then approached the counter.

“Hey,” you said, still slightly dizzy and Logan’s hazel eyes searched your face, his frown deepening.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“I could hear your heartbeat from a mile away,” he said. “What’s going on?”

You blinked a couple of times. “You recognize my heartbeat?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it was completely normal. “And I smelled your fear. So what’s going on?”

“You what?” you asked. “I smell like fear?”

“Not normally, but you do right now,” he said impatiently. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to focus as you stole a look at the booth the creep was still sitting in, Logan turning his head to follow your glances.

“He, um…” you said, lowering your voice. “He wanted to know when I get off work, and—and I said no and he’s been sitting there for an hour, just staring.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose as if he was surprised by the guy’s audacity.

“And I close the diner tonight,” you whispered. “And I gave the car to Jamie because his boyfriend’s grandma has been staying with them, and she’s really nice except for when she made that one comment about me giving it up too—” you stopped yourself. “Sorry. Um, I don’t—”

“How about I drive you home tonight?” he cut you off, making you pull your brows together.

“You’d do that?”

The look he gave you was almost reprimanding as if he was offended by you asking a question when the answer was clear as day and you let out a relieved breath.

“Logan I…” you trailed off. “I don’t know how to thank you, you’re—you’re amazing, really.”

“You have no reason to thank me, princess,” he said, making your heart skip a beat.

“I have many reasons.”

“No, and don’t worry about that asshole,” he said, nodding in the direction of the booth before turning to you, “but you need to call me when this sort of bullshit happens.”

“I don’t have your number,” you said and he paused for a moment as if he hadn’t thought about that.

“Right,” he said, taking his phone out of his pocket before holding it out for you and you smiled, then took it from him. You entered your phone number, then sent yourself a quick text before handing him the phone back.

“There,” you said with a grin. “Now we have each other’s numbers. Technology isn’t so bad, huh?”

He gave you a small smile and you cleared your throat.

“So what can I get you?” you asked, shifting your weight from one foot to other in excitement, and he frowned for a moment.

“Any chance you’ve got some of that pie from earlier?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll be right back.”

You went into the kitchen and made your way to the counter to get out the pie, then cut a big slice to put it on the plate.

“Look at that, your mood is fixed for some reason,” Paul teased you and you scrunched up your nose at him, then grabbed the chocolate sauce bottle. You carefully drew the shape on the plate, your tongue sticking out from the corner of your mouth.

“So let me guess, he’s still not your boyfriend?”

You gave him a chiding look. “Don’t.”

“Hey, I’m asking to see if I need to set you up with one of my friends.”

“Oh I’ve met your friends,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll respectfully decline, thank you.”

“They’re pretty cool guys.”

“I guess I’m not cool,” you told him and picked up the plate, then pushed open the kitchen door to make your way to Logan who was sitting on the stool by the counter.

“There you go,” you said and put the plate in front of him. “You may be curious about what that shape is on the plate is.”

“Was just about to ask you about that.”

“That’s a cigar,” you pointed at it. “And there’s an X over it because cigars suck. And that’s a frowny face right next to it because to repeat, cigars suck.”

“I see,” he said with a small grin. “A very clear message.”

“Isn’t it?” you asked, stealing a look at the booth to check on the creep but the booth was completely empty. You blinked a couple of times before you turned to Logan.

“Logan?”

“Hm?”

“Where did that man go?”

He grabbed his fork. “He left.”

“…Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Your frown deepened. “Did you say something to him?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just a small warning, that’s all.”

You could feel the relief filling your system as a smile warmed your face, making you bite at your lip.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered as he dug into the pie while you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms on it.

“So you were around then?” you asked. “When you heard my heartbeat?”

“Mm hm.”

“How do you know it’s my heartbeat and not someone else’s?”

“I recognize it,” he said, making you raise your brows.

“Is that—” you started but were distracted by a customer asking for a refill, so you grabbed the coffee pot, went to refill his coffee and walked behind the counter again. You pulled out a mug to fill Logan coffee, then put it in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Is that what you did during the French Revolution as well?”

“To repeat, I haven’t—” he started but then his lips curled into a smile upon seeing the teasing glint in your eyes. “Right. Seriously, what is this fascination with French Revolution?”

“I was weirdly into historical documentaries while pregnant with Theo,” you said. “Kinda stuck.”

“Ah.”

“Speaking of all that though, what was 19th century like?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. “Foggy.”

“…Very descriptive, Dickens,” you said with a nod of your head. “Professor X should have you teach literature, you’d do wonders in prose.”

 That made him chuckle before he took his fork into his mouth, and you smiled at him before walking to another table to take their order.

                                             *

As the sky went dark and the closing time got closer, you realized that you hadn’t even been paying attention to the time. Paul had left an hour ago, so had all the customers but you were so lost in the excitement of spending time with Logan that if it weren’t for your phone vibrating on the counter, you wouldn’t have even noticed it was past the closing time.

“But yeah, he literally brought a kitten home from the street,” you said with a smile as you walked to get your coat. “The said kitten is now Nik and Jamie’s beloved son, but—what are you doing?”

Logan pulled out his wallet and motioned at the empty plate and the coffee mug, making you narrow your eyes.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Princess—”

“I will threaten you, I don’t care if you’re invincible and like 200 years old.”

He tilted his head. “You’re threatening me with threatening me?”

“Yes,” you said. “I will kill you with kindness and also this knife I found in the kitchen if you try to pay for it.”

“You’re terrible at threatening people.”

“I know, I’m working on it,” you muttered as you grabbed the plate and the mug to put it on the counter of the kitchen through the small window, and by the time you turned around he had already placed some cash on where the plate just was.

“Logan!”

“Technically I’m not paying for it, I’m leaving a tip.”

“That tip is more than the check.”

“Well that’s—” he started before his head whipped around, the playful smile wiping off of his face as a car pulled over in front of the diner. He gritted his teeth, making you pull your brows together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he said. “Just do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll step outside for a moment,” he said. “Stay here.”

Your heart started pounding in your chest. “What—what’s going on?”

“I swear to you, it’ll take only a moment,” he said, his voice completely calm as he stood up from the stool. “Don’t step outside, okay?”

 “Hey asshole, I don’t appreciate being threatened!” A shout came from outside and you took a step back, panic making you dizzy upon recognizing the voice; it had to be the guy from earlier. “So I brought some friends! How about we show you some manners and then entertain your girl?”

You could feel your blood freezing in your veins and you grabbed your phone. “I’ll—I’ll call the cops—”

“Don’t,” Logan said. “They’ll only get in the way. I got it.”

“Logan…” you started but a metallic noise reached your ears as metal claws sprouted from his knuckles, making your eyes widen.

“What…”

“Stay here.”

“I-but—” you stammered but he had already walked out of the door, making you cover your mouth. Fear pounded through your system, your eyes filling with tears as you sniffled, then grabbed the knife on the counter and took a step to the closed door, but blood splattered over the huge window, soon followed by the panicked yelling of the newcomers. Your stomach churned as you swallowed thickly, then you wiped at your eyes and rushed to the door with the knife in your hand before you swung it open.

The view you were presented with looked like something out of a movie. Two of the guys writhing on the ground, one of the crawling to the car while the other looked like he was crying. The man from earlier was also on the ground, holding onto his face but you could see the blood dripping through his fingers as Logan retracted his claws, then held him from the back of his jacket and lifted him up.

“You’ve got something to say to her?” he growled, and the man let out a sob, then lowered his hands, your breath catching in your throat upon seeing the gashes on his face.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he managed to whimper through pain and Logan dropped him on his face unceremoniously, then turned to you.

“What’s the knife for?” he asked and you blinked a couple of times, forcing yourself to drag your gaze from the man.

“I was coming to save you,” you told Logan, making the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Yeah?” he asked as if humoring you and you nodded, then took a look at the men on the ground.

“Come on,” Logan said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Let me take you home.”

You felt like you were in a haze as you rushed inside to put the knife back, grabbed your phone off the counter, then shut down the lights and closed the door behind you, locked it and turned to Logan again.

“…Shouldn’t we call someone?”

“Nope.”

“But what if you get in trouble because of—”

“I won’t,” Logan answered, gently leading you to the motorcycle, his hand on the small of your back. He put the helmet on your head and you got behind him on the bike, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold onto him tight.

The road to your home felt almost surreal. The panic still hadn’t left your system yet, your mind going overdrive with everything that could have gone wrong, or would go wrong if those creeps had decided to press charges on Logan. Even though he didn’t look worried at all, you were beginning to think you worried enough for the both of you.

And if something had happened to him, if they had gotten to him before he could beat them—

No.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to think about it.

You hadn’t even realized that your cheeks were wet with tears when he pulled over in front of your house, his head turning to the side when he heard you sniffling. You swung your leg over the seat to sit sideways on it and he got off the motorcycle to help you take off the helmet but as soon as he did, you pressed your palms on your eyes, biting inside your cheek to keep yourself under control.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, sniffling again as you lowered your hands before a shaky sigh left your lips. He lifted your chin with a curled finger, your eyes shooting up to his, your heart skipping a beat as he gently wiped at the tear under your eye.

“I’m sorry for scaring you off.”

The change in his tone was impossible to miss. That growl that had spilled from his lips while talking to that man was completely gone and now his deep voice was soft like honey, making you feel all warm inside. You blinked back the tears and shook your head fervently.

“You didn’t,” you said. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“But you’re scared.”

“Not of you,” you said, shaking your head again as you bit at your nail. “For you.”

That made him pull his brows together in confusion and you let out a breath.

“Logan, there were three people there,” you insisted. “They could’ve easily overpowered you—”

“That’s impossible.”

“They could’ve killed you!”

“Also impossible,” he said, a small chuckle escaping from his lips as if the idea was too absurd. “I told you before. I heal.”

“I’m sure there are exceptions to that, if they came up with a way—”

“Unless those guys were keeping a fully functioning high technology lab underneath the diner, they couldn’t,” he said. “Me getting hurt was not a possibility there, and the only reason they’re alive is because you were there. That’s it.”

You sniffled again.

“But did I make you betray a principle or something?”

“What?”

“Because the secretary of Mutant Affairs held a press conference the other day and he—”

“Hank?”

“Hank McCoy, yes. You know him?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well, he talked about how mutants have this principle—”

A dry chuckle climbed up his throat.

“I don’t have any principles when it comes to assholes like those,” he said, a shadow crossing his handsome face. “But nobody gets to hurt you or threaten you. That’s the principle here.”

Your head was spinning again for a completely different reason and you took a trembling breath, stealing a look at the building behind you before looking up to his hazel eyes, your heart beating in your throat.

“Would you like to—” you started but before you could invite him to your apartment, a car flashed its headlights at you two, making you turn your head to look at it.

Oh.

Your car.

Jamie was in the driver’s seat and he frowned slightly before he stopped the car and Nik leaned out from the open passenger seat window.

“Hey Sunshine!” he said. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

You closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again, then licked your lips.

“It’s on mute, I didn’t hear,” you said. “Uh, Logan, this is Nik, Jamie’s boyfriend. Nik, this is Logan, my…my friend.”

Nik gave him a grin as he eyed him up and down.

“Nice to meet you Logan,” he said before turning to you. “Get in, we’re taking you out to dinner. Your friend can come too if he’d like.”

You glanced up at Logan, biting at your lip and he took a deep breath, then cleared his throat as if trying to snap out of a haze.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am,” you said. “I just didn’t know they were coming—but um, would you like to join us? Nik is an expert when it comes to restaurants, he knows all the great ones.”

Logan shook his head.

“I’d better go,” he said. “It’ll be easier to track those guys down while they’re still bleeding.”

You blinked a couple of times. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll make sure they understand they shouldn’t cross paths with you ever again,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “That’s all.”

You hesitated only for a moment before you stood on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him, resting your forehead against his hard chest, the scent of pines and smoke surrounding you in the most pleasant way. He cradled the back of your head with one hand while his other arm sneaked around your waist and he nuzzled his nose into your hair to inhale deeply, making your heartbeat faster. Even though you felt like you could happily spend your whole life in his arms, you knew you had to step back especially with Jamie and Nik right there, so you slowly pulled back to look up at him. His hazel gaze went down to your lips for a moment before snapping back to your eyes and you swallowed thickly.

“Thanks,” you managed to say. “For…you know.”

“No problem, princess,” he said softly and stepped back as well, then nodded in Jamie’s direction before getting on the motorcycle.

“Be careful,” he said and you let out a small laugh.

“Likewise,” you said before he drove off and you shifted your weight before making your way to the car. You opened the door and got in the backseat, then slammed the door shut as Nik turned to look at you over his shoulder.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi Nik. Hi Jamie.”

“So that was Logan?” Nik asked and Jamie scoffed as he started the car.

“Yep. That’s the asshole I told you about.”

“Well, neither of you told me he was that hot,” Nik pointed out, grinning at you. “Did we interrupt something?”

You wiped at your nose, then shook your head. “Um, no.”

Jamie took a look at you from the rear mirror, then frowned.

“If that asshole made you cry, I swear—”

“He didn’t,” you said in a rush and buckled your seat belt. “I’ll tell you on the way. What are we eating?”

6 - Middle of the Night

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico has gone soft.

He’s gone soft.

Unbelievable.

“What,” he growls, yanking open his cabin door.

That’s the issue with it all — a year ago, if someone came pounding at his door, in the middle of the night, for literal minutes as he desperately tried to ignore them, he wouldn’t even bother with words. He’d come out swinging; fists or sword or both.

But look at him now.

Using his words.

He’s a pacifist.

“Can I please sleep with you,” blurts the interloper, and both of them go very intensely red at the same time.

Nico drags his hand down his face. (Because he is furious, not because he’s trying to hide his glowing cheeks.) “Solace, I swear to all that is holy.”

Will waits for him to finish. Nico chooses not to, letting the threat hang in the air. Will can imagine what Nico wants to do to him. Hopefully it involves screams of pain and agony, because that is the vibe he is sending.

“I — please,” whines the biggest thorn in Nico’s side, when it becomes obvious he is not opening the door any further. (Will even shivers, pitifully, and Nico refuses to notice the tank top and unwisely short shorts he’s wearing as PJs. That’s his problem. It’s October. Camp-monitored weather or not, he should know better.) “Please please please can I sleep here? Just for tonight?”

The issue is that he really does look so pitiful. His nose is red, slightly, and his eyes are big and blue and shining in the faint light of Greek fire torches, and the pout on his face is just short of emotionally moving. He glows in the moonlight, too, freckles shining like dotted stars; all of him awash in silver like a marble statue of Hellenistic tragedy.

Nico sighs.

Will brightens.

Nico opens the door, just a little.

Will darts inside.

Nico is a weak, weak man. Truly.

“You have your own cabin,” he grouches, scowl twisted and potent and pointed in Sun Boy’s direction. Will either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, rocking back on his heels and observing the cabin as if he hasn’t been inside dozens of times to harass Nico in dozens of different ways.

“Never been here at night,” he muses, and Nico seriously considers collapsing to his knees and yelling at the top of his lungs. (But he is the dignified Ambassador of Pluto, King of the Shadows, so he does not. Instead, he vows to wait until Solace is finally gone, so he can wallow in peace.)

“Feel free to return to your own cabin at any given time,” Nico says pointedly. He ignores the second pout he knows is aimed at his back, crawling back into his bed and beginning the slow, meticulous process of layering himself in his fourteen and a half blankets.

“I can’t!”

The mattress springs of the spare bed across from Nico whine in protest as Will throws himself dramatically upon it. Nico refuses to look at him, and also refuses to ask the question Will is trying, with great difficulty, to make him ask. If he wants to march in here and make himself a nuisance, he can do it without Nico’s help, that’s for damn certain.

Will huffs. “It’s too dark in my cabin.”

There’s a second as the words travel from sparks in Will’s brain, to less abstract thought, to language, to a sound beginning with vibrations in his throat and floating through the air, tickling the delicate hairs in Nico’s ear and re-translating themselves to sparks inside his own brain. It takes but a moment, a millisecond, a delay too small for either of them to register. In that moment, Nico closes his eyes and wonders, clearly, to himself: is this really better than living alone on the streets, hunted nonstop by monsters? Is it?

“William,” he says, very, very slowly, ignoring the reflective, chirped Not my name! in reply. “William, I am going to kill you.”

See, every cabin has its quirks. Zeus’, for instance, resembles a mausoleum. (Nico should know. He’s picnicked in several.) Athena’s resembles a library, sleeping and living an afterthought. His own cabin, remodelled after whatever fool made it look like Count Dracula’s wet dream, now closely resembles his bedroom in his father’s palace, were his bedroom shared and less frigidly unwelcoming.

Apollo’s cabin is made of solid gold. The interior is painted with bright, overlapping murals made by generations of talented artists, fairy light strung across the ceiling and curled around bedposts, sun lamps and skylights peppering every square foot. Warmly lit and welcoming, in the inside, eyesore on the outside. Nico wouldn’t be able to find the shadow of a speck of dust in that cabin. He has no idea how anyone sleeps.

“William,” he repeats, incredulous. Four of his blankets slip from their meticulous pile, and Will stares right back, wide-eyed but unafraid. “William, please use your fucking eyeballs.”

Will gasps. Hand pressed to his chest, genuinely aghast, like Nico had just insulted his mother.

“Nico!” he chastises. “Language, lordie!”

Nico refuses to smile.

He refuses.

“Solace, this place is made of shadow. You are full of shit, telling me your cabin is too dark. Literally what are you yapping about.”

Will holds his gaze for a moment, still glaring. But stubborn as he is, Nico has the better glower of the two of them — Will is more practiced at the silent treatment. He huffs, relenting.

“Jus’ feels dark,” he mumbles, so quietly Nico has to strain to hear him. “‘N it’s quiet.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Is this about Kayla and Austin going home this year?” he asks softly, awkwardly.

Will nods miserably.

“Well — I mean — in that case —”

He stumbles over his words, face glowing. He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say without embarrassing himself, without missing the mark — you’re welcome here, Will? Of course you are? I answered the door for you, Will? I let you in, Will? For anyone else, I would have slammed it in their face, Will? I have before?

“Just — sleep it off,” is what he ends up saying, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Will snorts. “Yeah, lemme just dodge the crushing loneliness with a quick five hours.”

“Piss off, you know what I —” Nico frowns. “Five hours?”

“It’s two somethin’ in the morning, darlin’. I’ll be up when the sun rises.”

Nico glances at the blackout curtains hanging from the window frames.

Not this time, he thinks, as quietly as he can.

“Right,” he says. He waits a beat. “Goodnight, you pain in my ass.”

Will beams at him. He can’t see it, but he can feel it, practically, the glowing warmth of it, and he shoves his face in his own pillow before he does something embarrassing like smile back.

“Night! Love you bunches.”

He screams slightly into the silk pillowcase. “You are the biggest dweeb in the world.”

“…Aw.”

“Shut up. I love you too. Sleep immediately or I’ll gag you.”

“Yeesh, Nico, let’s discuss our fantasies before we dive into any —”

“I am going to kill you to death, Solace, I swear on the palace of my father —”

“Okay, yeesh, Prince of Darkness, I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

Will’s snickering is an annoyingly welcome sound in the usually silent cabin. Nico ignores it for his own peace of mind, waiting for it to fade into even breathing before he lets out the breath he was holding, sagging into his bedsheets. He peaks over the mound of blankets and pillows, eyes adjusting easily to the dark, and traces Will’s lanky frame; on top of the covers, because of course he is, bare leg hanging off the side of the bed and arm hooked around his own head. He’s been asleep for a few minutes at most, but his curls already frizz and tangle in a messy halo all around his head, as if he’s been tossing and turning for hours. His mouth is parted just slightly, Cupid’s bow pink and pursed.

“Love you, stronzello,” he whispers again, fondly, and smiles as his own eyes flutter shut.

———

(He wakes up at noon to Will rushing around the cabin, panicked, shoving his feet into his flipflops and buzzing about being late to his shift. He brains himself on the door frame in his rush to get to the infirmary.)

(“Karma,” Nico calls to his retreating back, snickering.)

(He thinks he’ll let Will sleep over more often.)

[mr-celestial-writings]

Trick Or Treat!

It's All Hallow's Eve! And Here's how various folks would spend it with you! This will be a long one, so Buckle up.

Gender Neutral Reader for All Characters.

DC Masterlist

================================================

BatFamily:

Bruce Wayne:

He would be handing out candy for the first half of the night. Nothing cheap. He hands out the largest candy bars he can find.

He would dress up as something silly, like Dracula. He is not spared from the jokes from his children. He also very well aware of the irony.

You two would probably do a couple's outfit. Like Peanut Butter or Jelly, or Two Halves of a smore. Something cute.

Of course, it is still Gotham. The Rouges will be more than active tonight. So at some point, Bruce would have to go off on patrol. with a kiss, you send him off.

When he comes back, you're sitting in the kitchen, Jack O' Lantern Still lit. You were waiting for him to come back before you put it out.

Together, smiling, you two blew out the candle. All in All, a Tame Halloween.

Richard "Dick" Grayson:

Oh boy, if anybody is excited for the Holiday, it's Dick.

He hands out candy, dressed as one of his brothers. Probably Jason. He thought it would be funny.

Haley also has a costume! She's dressed as a little pumpkin. Dick has a 100 pictures of her in her costume already. You know he's going to have them all printed out by tomorrow and in the photo album he has for her.

He takes the night off so he could spend time with you. Whether your dressed up or not. He would never pass up a chance to spend time with you.

Once the Trick-Or-Treaters start to become more of a trickle, you two sit on the couch, watching some horror movie or another until you pass out.

Jason Todd:

He is not a big fan of the Holiday. Rouges get more active, people in general get more bold. It's just more work for him.

Somehow, you manage to convince him to take the night off. Let his family handle the crime! You picked out a couples costume.

Jason may put up a big, tough guy act. For you though, he melts. Which is how he ended up at a Halloween party with you on his arm.

He didn't take his eyes off of you the whole night. A Dopey smile on his face.

Once you went home, you two curled up in your coziest pajamas with a bag of candy Jason totally legally acquired, watching slasher fics.

When you fell asleep in his arms, Jason simply put a blanket on the top of you and held you close. He soon followed you to the land of sleep.

Timothy "Tim" Drake:

He's neutral towards the Holiday. But no matter what you do, you can never pull him away from work completely.

You might be able to drag him to help with handing out candy. But dragging him to a Party is a lost cause.

Depending on your costume, you may or may not distract him with the image of you in his brain all not.

Bring him Pumpkin baked goods, appease our sleep deprived god. He will love you forever.

When he comes back from patrol, and he sees you in bed curled up under a spooky blanket, he wouldn't hesitate to crawl in next to you. Gear and all.

Damian Wayne:

Claims he hates the holiday, but the way he lights up when you arrive to go trick or treating says other wise.

Dresses up as batman. It's a really well done costume. Benefits of having money.

He has planned out the perfect route for optimal candy gathering. There is now way neither of you go home without two trash bags full of candy, if not more.

His Father Gave him the night off. Which is perfect. It means more time with you, his friend, and more time to gather sweets.

After you return to Wayne Manor, Damian has you stay over for the night as you watch Child friendly Halloween Movies. You two pass out on the Den floor, and Alfred is the one who places a blanket over you.

Barbara Gordon:

Work for her never stops, but she can afford a break for you. Even if that break is helping hand out candy at the library.

She can't really do full blown costumes. But she puts on a pair of cat ears to help get into the season.

Once the last of the Trick-Or-Treaters leave the library, she travels home with you before heading to the clock tower. Criminals tend to love this Holiday, and she'll help as best she can.

She absolutely stays on call with you though, listening to you prepare dinner for the two of you.

When she returns home, Dinner is set out, and you two enjoy Dinner together before going to bed.

Stephanie "Steph" Brown:

May be able to compete with Dick with how much she loves the Holiday. Goes all out. Decorations, costumes, candy, you name it.

It's her night off! She's going to spend all the time she can with you!

Drags you out trick-or-treating, and then to a Halloween party. You two somehow manage to win best couples costume.

You two stop by Bat-Burger for Dinner, it's cheap, and you know nobody will steal your candy.

Steph sets up a horror movie as you change into matching pajamas with her. Once you two are cozy, you binge movies and candy until you pass out.

Cassandra "Cass" Cain:

She loves the Holiday, nowhere near as much as Dick or Steph, but she won't say no to going trick or treating with you. Or to the Couple Costume.

She has a lot of fun! And she makes sure you two hit the houses with the good candy and full sized candy bars. The hoard you both Gather could rival Damian's.

Does not hesitate to make you a proper dinner, no matter how late you get home. You went out of your way to make sure she had fun. Feeding you is the least you could do.

You two watch True crime until you fall asleep, safe in each other's arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supers:

Clark Kent:

Adores the Holiday. He has since he was a kid. And he hopes that he managed to pass that love onto Jon.

Dresses up as a sheet Ghost. He knew his intent to wear a silly costume was effective when you laughed.

Happily hands out candy to all the Trick-Or-Treaters. No matter the age.

Clark can't really handle horror, so you two watch Kid friendly Halloween movies until Jon gets home.

You and him cooked a Halloween themed dinner and dessert to help wrap up the night. Goes without saying that Jon ate every bite and even had seconds.

After going through the candy, and tucking Jon into bed, you two spend a bit more time together before going up to bed.

Conner Kent:

Neutral towards Halloween. He will not say 'No' if you want to go out together or wear couple's costumes.

Does absolutely tease you with Halloween/general fall based nick names and pick up lines. Your his partner. It's his job to make sure you're flustered at least once tonight.

If you are wearing a bit more of a revealing outfit, Conner doesn't hesitate to start a fight with anybody who cat calls you.

Gets you the biggest bag of candy he can, and eats half of it. He'll leave you the candies you like though!

You two end the night in each others arms. Watching whatever was on TV. You two fell asleep like that.

Jonathan "Jon" Kent:

Loves, loves, LOVES the holiday. It is fact his favorite day of the year, right next to Christmas Day.

His Costume would be a Ninja. Mainly because Damian Groaned when Jon picked out the costume, So Jon of course wanted to annoy his best friend.

Drags you to every house, no matter the candy. It's a day with his best friend, he wasn't passing up on this.

You two were wiped when you returned to the Kent house, and Clark and Lois had an amazing meal prepared for you.

Goes without saying you two ate before passing out in Jon's room.

Kara Danvers:

Adores Halloween. Sucks that she can't spend all day with you. The moment she was free from work, though? Oh she could not get you into her arms fast enough.

She dragged you to every haunted house she could. She was like an excited little kid.

You bought you both bags of candy and other baked goods. And when you got a break from all the running around, you bought warm apple cider.

Once Kara noticed your exhaustion from all he running around, she carried you home, and happily cuddled you until you both fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Speedsters:

Barry Allen:

Ah yes, Halloween with a Speedster. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, one, you spent basically all day baking. Barry could not keep his hands off your sweets. Thankfully the candy for the Trick-Or-Treaters was untouched.

Dressed up as a pumpkin. It made you laugh. And that was his goal.

Clung to you basically the entire night, even as you handed out candy or had to pull more cookies out of the oven.

When the porch light finally switched off, he dragged you to bed to watch the Entire Saw Series.

Wally West:

Drags you out to a Halloween party, no questions asked. You also went out to egg and TP people's houses. He was going to enjoy the time he had with you.

Buys you both absurd amounts of candy, even if most of it goes to him.

His mom made him dress up as a Carrot. He stopped complaining when you called him cute though. He owned being a carrot. He would die on that hill.

Happily ran around with you on his back as you caused chaos in the town.

Bart Allen:

Shows up at your door first thing in the morning, literally vibrating in excitement. Bart drags you around all day to scope out the best houses.

When the time comes, Bart quickly grabs the couples costumes he wanted to wear. Once you were ready he didn't hesitate to drag you out.

You two hit every house. Twice with Bart's superspeed. And even then he ran with you on his back to nearby cities.

By the time you got home, you two had a massive hoard. Even Bart admitted that it would probably last until next Halloween.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Archers:

Oliver Queen:

Celebrates Halloween with a big, fuck off Halloween party every year. You, of course, are invited.

Costumes are required, and Oliver chooses the grandest couples costume for you two. He wasn't about to be shown up at his own party.

Plenty of fancy foods, and just normal baked goods. Which he goes goblin on.

He was half tempted to throw out anybody dressed as the Justice League. You managed to talk him out of it though.

When you two tumble into bed after the party, Oli looked at you and realized he wouldn't change anything. No amount of money could make him give up this moment.

Roy Harper:

Becoming a Dad changes a lot of things. How you celebrate holidays is one of them.

He caves the moment that Lian asked if You and her could have matching costumes. He couldn't say no to you two tag teaming him. He was weak.

To say that carrying the bags of candy for you and Lian as you two ran around wasn't what he was expecting would be a lie.

But if the soft smile on his face clearly said that he didn't mind. And Roy would never trade this moment for the world.

Artemis Crock:

Never really cared to celebrate Halloween. Especially since she grew up in Gotham. She would Budge on it if you two went to another city though.

Once you two finish your Trick-Or-Treating, Artemis drags you to watch what ever horror movie was in theatres.

Paula had a nice dinner prepared for you two wen you returned, and Paula had you stay the night.

You and Artemis spent the rest of the night watching whatever scary videos you could find.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Extra:

Diana Prince:

Appreciates the Holiday, doesn't really celebrate. She absolutely will if you ask her too, though.

You two mainly handed out candy, and Diana cooed ever ever costume she saw of herself or the rest of the Justice League.

Once the Trick-Or-Treaters dried up, you and Diana went to bake. It was a mess, but the end results were nice.

Diana totally bragged about it the next day, even if it was nothing impressive.

Hal Jordan:

Enjoys Halloween a lot more now that he has you. He isn't big for couples costumes, but he will do it if it's funny.

Drags you out to every Halloween party he can find. Coast City can survive without him for a day. Hangovers were nothing if it meant spending all night with you.

He spoiled you as much as he could. Sweets, baked goods, everything you wanted. He was surprised when you shared with him.

He considered proposing then and there.

Jamie Reyes:

Enjoys Halloween, but it isn't as important to him or his family as Dia De Los Muertos, Day of The Dead.

He'll mostly be busy prepping the Afrenda and the feast with the rest of his family. But he gladly welcomes you into the celebration and his family allows you to place photos of your loved ones on the Alter.

He's happy, just spending the day with you. But if you bring baked goods, either themed around Halloween or Day of The Dead, and you will be is new favorite person.

His mom Will absolutely tease you two and ask when the wedding is.

================================================

a/n: Happy Halloween! I think I may do something similar for Christmas. I won't touch thanksgiving though. ever.

Longest thing I've ever written, and has all the DC characters I currently write for.

Requests, as always, are open! Hit up my ask box! I don't have anything better to do!

[pinkiepiebones]

absolution.

absolution.

Dracfield week day 2: Church

-

Renfield glanced around. The neon and noise of the vibrant New Orleans night life barely penetrated the dark alleyway. He felt strange. He felt drained.

He felt like calling things off with Dracula.

It was just difficult, you know? A breakup between two mortal people is hard enough- even if amicable, there is a wound there- but two immortals? (Was he as immortal as Dracula? Renfield had never been given a clear answer...) Renfield had felt the scales inside him shift. The hazy, blood-spattered mania of love and devotion had been losing its sparkle. The weight and toll of his actions pressed on his conscious.

Nearly a century together.

Renfield shoved his hands in his threadbare jacket pockets. The ether bottle in one pocket, a tiny coffin-shaped snuff box in the other. His handkerchief tucked haphazardly in an inner pocket. Tools of the trade.

Memories swam around him, their fins cutting through his focus.

Dracula's claws traced little pattens on his bare back. Not enough to draw blood, just enough to stoke the fire.

Renfield watched as Dracula chewed through the woman's throat.

Dizzying ecstasy. Dizzying guilt.

"I love you." "Of course you do."

Renfield sighed and started making his way out of the alley. He and Dracula had been settled in New Orleans for months now. Renfield had been reviving his Master as intravenously as he could (difficult when the veins didn't regrow evenly). Robbing blood banks instead of kidnapping was by no means a good solution nor did it offer him any sort of absolution, but it kept him from any more 'creep into that teenager's bedroom and carry her back to Master,' 'lure those children to the abandoned house for Master,' 'get the brain matter washed off Master's cape,' 'abduct those fraternity boys,' and on and on and on. Was it possible for an undead man to feel tired? Really, truly, genuinely sick of this shit?

Renfield had concocted a scheme- he would continue to bring people to Dracula, but they had to be bad people. Like, almost as bad as him. Robbers, arsonists, people who held bewilderingly strong opinions about pizza toppings... Scum to feed scum. And tonight, he spotted a bad guy.

The man was nearly as wide as he was tall, all muscle and flannel and leather. His bald head shined in the neon lights and heavy rings glinted on his fingers. Renfield was surprised when the man looked over his shoulder; he had a huge, unruly black beard. Okay, Renfield thought to himself. Surely this guy's got aggravated assault or murder or unpaid parking tickets in his past. Perfect fodder. 

The man was not hard to follow, and with each passing block Renfield was more perplexed. The man wasn't snatching purses or wallets or spouting racial epithets.

In fact- and it was at this point Renfield stopped in his tracking tracks- the man walked right into the gymnasium of a church.

Renfield swallowed. A church. Why did it have to be a church? He had never liked churches, even before Dracula took his life as his own. He hated being dragged to them as a boy. Made to feel guilty for things he could not control about himself. He was married in a church. That was the last time he went near one of those damned things.

Apprehensively, he pushed the door. He took a step past the threshold and winced, expecting to combust just like his Master might.

A tap on his shoulder jolted him back to reality. Not on fire. Great! 

The person who tapped him cocked an eyebrow. "You okay?" He mumbled an affirmative and moved back toward the door when he spotted the bald man again. He was stooped over a folding table, writing something. As Renfield crept closer he noticed folding chairs arranged in a haphazard circle, a folding table laden with muffins and donuts and coffee in little paper cups, and several old chalkboards on wheels, plastered with bulletins about the goings-on of the church, as well as a sign that simply read:

Change starts with YOU

DRAAG

Dependent Relationship Anonymous Addiction Group

The bald man stood and placed a sticker on his chest. Renfield could see that it was a white rectangle with HI! MY NAME IS printed on it. "Bob" was written in the provided space. The O was a peace sign.

Huh.

"Are you here for the meeting?" asked a perky man with glasses. Renfield mumbled and approached the table. He scrawled on a sticker and nervously patted it onto his suit jacket and found a chair far from the rest of them.

Maybe there was a bad person in this church.

Besides himself.

[infitsovermisfits]

(working title) Alucard x Reader

((posting to see if people would be interested in reading. Lol))

sOME info before we start: 

I know it’s fucking slow at times. I wanted to mimic the gothic style of writing where there’s pages of nothing but i cant physically write boring stuff that long or i die so :p

Gender-neutral reader!! I tried to keep them as genderless as possible to give everyone the same experience and be inclusive to everyone :) i love this man and so should you all

Going by Bram Stoker’s Dracula canon and Netflix show canon because this very quickly became an obsession of mine and i needed to get this out as fast as possible. I’ve never played the games (rip) so im sorry for any inaccuracies or anything like that :( this is largely self-indulgent and you can’t tell me what to do.

enjoy!

There was an uncharacteristic stillness in the air tonight. The crescent moon hid beneath swirling grey clouds, as footsteps slowly and rhythmically crunched through the path in the forest. White puffs of air crystallised and floated away in the cold, drifting from your lips as you huddled in the dark cloak around your shoulders. 

This wasn’t just a nice stroll through the forest. There were no more nice strolls through the forest- not since Dracula’s night creatures became a permanent threat in the darkness. Nowhere in the world was safe anymore, you reminded yourself. You were just as equally at threat here, in the middle of a forest, as you were in your bedroom. You knew that first-hand. 

The sudden rustle of birds taking off, high into the sky startled you into freezing in place, chest rising and falling in utter fear as you watched the birds disappear into the sky. If you didn’t freeze to death soon, surely your heart would give out by the time you found any shelter. Standing like this, under the fragmented shadows of the bare trees, you never felt more alone. 

A low growl brings your attention to two glistening blood-red eyes. This was it. Your death staring into your soul and baring its fangs, saliva pooling under its slow and careful steps. Hunger coursed through its veins and the only thing repeating in its brain was to kill every human.

As quickly as you could, you yanked the silver dagger from its holster under the cloak, backing away slowly as more of the creature revealed itself. Wolfish in form, its mouth stretched uncharacteristically wide for such a creature. It’s heckles stood quill-like and its six, scurrying paws reminded you of an insect. Heart hammering in your chest as it let out a deep roar, you could only do one thing. Turn on your heel and run. 

Your urgent breaths; the sand, the gravel crunching beneath your feet; the fast-approaching six-legged creature just behind you. A sob escaped at the feeling of its hot breath tickling the back of your neck, droplets of saliva burning like hot acid against your freezing skin.

All around you, a tunnel of darkness led to a shadowy building at the end- though this felt like some cruel joke or illusion as it appeared farther and farther away. And then suddenly you were flying through the air. And then suddenly, your knees met the dirt. And then suddenly the creature crashed into you at full force, flying into the air and coming to a stop just a few meters ahead. 

Lifting yourself with a groan, you let out a wince as you collected yourself. While you remained, glued to the ground as if on a mouse trap, your eyes grew wide. In a matter of seconds, the creature was up and snarling, growling more. Snapping its jaw at you and revealing flashes of a pointed tongue, you scrambled to your feet. Your only salvation was behind it, though you had no doubt you’d be meeting your God through the jaws of the beast before you.

And now it was pouncing.

The only thing you thought to do was to raise the hand with the dagger up, shielding yourself with only your forearm. Expecting the sting of its sharp jaws to wrap around at any moment, you let your eyes open slowly at the sound of a metallic swing. 

A long, silver sword whirled through the air and suddenly pierced through the creature's head, pinning it to the floor like a toothpick. It gurgled some more, snarled once again and its hot, smelly breath expelled onto your face. At that, bile rose in your throat and all at once, the last scraps of your stolen bread emptied themselves from your stomach. 

“Oh dear,” Was the last thing you expected to hear in a surely haunted forest in the middle of the night. Here you were, moments ago, about to be eaten alive. And here was the most pleasant, soothing voice that’s ever met your ears. A man’s, monotone voice, seemingly void of emotion. You’d at least expect some witch, who now expected your everlasting loyalty to her in fear that she’d transform you into a familiar- though perhaps she was using this form of a… Beautiful man just to trick you into that. 

A frown lined his pale lips, appearing almost grey in such darkness. His complexion was the colour of moonlight, surrounded by swirls of golden hair. His grey eyes looked down upon you as he appeared to study you- an equally curious sight to him, it appeared. He was seemingly unaffected by the cold that rattled your bones- in tandem with fear- wearing only a white shirt, unbuttoned to reveal red scarring slashing his alabaster chest, and rolled up at the sleeves. It was neatly tucked into his pants, however, accentuating his slender appearance. There was a single blond curl across his forehead. He let out another sigh. Unlike you, he was breathing evenly, hardly exhausted from the slaughtered beast next to him. You could feel the still warm blood pooling beneath your arms, holding you up from the ground. 

Remaining silent for a few more moments, his expressions seemed to shift so quickly you could hardly make them out. Though you realised too late he was likely waiting for you to say anything, you were utterly speechless at the sight of him. Speechless, and entirely untrusting. Because why would such a beautiful man be here to rescue you? 

Perhaps he was thinking the same of you? Why anyone would find themselves so deeply lost in a forest like this at the beginning of winter? So far from their village too… Why on Earth had you found yourself here?

Unexpectedly, he shifted in his stance- where he was standing directly forward before, he stood sideways now- and even held out a hand. Though you took utterly too long to process that he was even offering you a slither of help, his expression didn’t change. He remained curious, observant, cautious. Lifting a blood-stained hand, it took you a moment to place it in his. Eyeing the dripping red liquid as it rolled down your arm, you grimaced. Glancing at his face to expect the same disgust reflecting back, you surprisingly didn’t find it. In fact, he moved his own hand forward so that when you lowered yours just slightly, it slotted into his. 

Despite the blood, you could feel the cold touch of his fingers. They wrapped around your hand securely and with surprising ease, he lifted you up off your feet. Steadying your shaking legs, you let out a few puffs of air, still trying to collect yourself. Eyeing the corpse of the night creature suspiciously for any movements, you felt his hand slide from yours as he examined the blood that you’d transferred to his palm-

“I’m so sorry,” You spoke, finally. His cold gaze shifted to yours, eyes just as lifeless as the creature next to you. Without saying anything, he whipped his palm on his pants. The blood still remained, 

“You humans don’t tend to venture this far into the woods on your own,” He spoke, and somewhere deep inside you, a warmth began to spread. Such a soothing voice from such a strange man who appeared out of thin air. Surely, he was a witches thing, “Not unless you are searching for death,” His eyes landed upon the creature who’d tried to eat you. Wordlessly, he now looked to you, 

“I wasn’t searching,” You answered his unspoken question, “I…” And you told yourself that the shaking voice, which just so happened to be yours wasn’t afraid but freezing cold. And the man before you stared, for a moment, before his brows slightly creased. You would have missed it if you blinked. But as much as you searched for a reason as to why you were exactly here, the words died on your tongue. Embarrassingly, you only let out a slight groan, before promptly shutting your mouth. When you swallowed, you could still taste the vomit. 

“You are far from home…” He pointed out, or was he thinking out loud? For such a quiet man, who appeared to calculate in his own mind so much before he spoke, he likely wouldn’t, “In the middle of the forests of Wallachia. The last I checked, unless you were a monster hunter, you wouldn’t venture so far into the night… Alone,” He looked from the creature to you with a curious gaze. Somehow, he began to slowly consume all of your thoughts until your mind was swirling. Who even was he? 

“Woruń,” You said suddenly, blinking in surprise, “I’m from Woruń,”

“You’ve made quite the journey,” He pointed out, and you could only nod as you dryly swallowed. With the twitch in his eyebrows again, you guessed he was conflicted. His head briefly turned to glance at the light at the end of this tunnel you stood stuck in. You took the chance to stare at his hair. In this light, it looked dull, its beauty dimmed by some darkness in the air. And all too quickly, he turned back to meet your still wide-eyed gaze. You stood so close to him. You should be able to feel his warmth, “There is a castle nearby. It belonged to Dracula Tepes. I will lead you to it,” He said. And without waiting for so much as a confirming nod from you, he turned and began to walk.

Two options were clearly laid out before you. To follow this man- your mystical saviour into the unknown castle of Dracula… Or meet your fate at the jaws of a creature such as the one bleeding below your feet. Stepping out of the line of the flowing blood, you looked back to the man. Without a second thought, you followed him. 

Wordlessly, you met his pace. You had no idea where to set your eyes upon- him; your feet; or the castle that was slowly being revealed to you. Still obscured by the shadows the branches held before it, as if trapped behind a cage of brambles, the man stepped forward and reached his arm out underneath them, pushing them up to allow you to duck under. As a thank you left your lips in a breath of crystalised, foggy air, your gaze became transfixed by the sheer magnificence of the building before you. 

Abnormally tall, the clouds swirl around the highest towers. Some appear only connected by thin bridges- floating in the air and defying all of the nature surrounding it. The slate gleams in the moonlight, its smooth surface shining in the soft blue way that night cradles the world. It looks like something out of a fairytale, yet simultaneously nightmarish. The iron bars that line some of the windows shine, and the ones that aren’t prison-like are composed in a mosaic fashion. 

From the sharp points, no flag flies. They seemingly only exist to pierce the sky, or at least threaten it to do so. There are a few walkways, and incomplete balconies. Entirely void of life, it looks so out of place among the shrubs and greenery of the nature surrounding it. It reminds you of the night creatures- or the apparent owner behind you. Finally, as your eyes pan across the giant metal doors, your eyes are transfixed by two rotting corpses upon wooden stakes, driven through their bodies and protruding from their mouths. Entirely naked, their greenish flesh is pecked at by ravens, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you cast a sideways glance at the man. At least he won’t attempt to eat you…

“It’ll be warmer inside,” He says, sensing your gaze that you quickly avert back to the castle. He walks forward and like a blind dog, you follow him slowly, keeping a few paces behind him. As you approach the steps, you eye one of the corpses- a woman. She smells, “Don’t mind them… It is a rather long story. Not one fit to tell a guest,” And this smooth voice seemingly enchants you further, as you find yourself continuing up the steps. You finally register a clicking and groaning sound, and turning to stare at the door you notice elaborate mechanisms involving wheels and cogs that work all on their own as they slowly open the doors. Though none of this makes sense to you, though it is all so unnerving, this stranger is too captivating to run from. Too beautiful to take your eyes off. Perhaps when he does kill you and stake you, it won’t be too bad. He comes to a stop and casts a glance over his shoulder to watch you slowly climbing up the steps, chest still heaving as you watch the doors fully open before him. 

Once you reach the final step, you stop to take it all in. And this stranger turns to face you, puts a hand over his breast and extends the other one with an open palm towards the castle. He bows, in an act that all too quickly surprises and oddly warms your stomach, like some good vodka, and speaks in a soft voice, 

“Welcome.”

[oddballwriter]

Taste Test

Summary: Marc offers to let you taste his blood for the sake of seeing if avatar blood tastes different, but Marc might want you to drink his blood for other reasons.

Warnings: Not smut but still spicy. Vampire reader and them consuming blood. Mentions of blood, cuts, biting to the point of puncturing skin, blood drinking, tasting one's blood in their mouth and the reader themself tasting blood, and slight bloodplay. It is heavily implied that Marc has a thing for the reader drinking his blood and then kissing him. Dracula reference. System reference. The reader calls Marc a "freak" and a "little freak" but it's just banter. There is a lot of banter and slight bickering. Marc is lowkey horny fr. Also a fade to black kind of ending, you can imagine the more if you'd like. 

Author’s Snip: Vampire reader brain rot hours yet again. Tonight, bat bitches, we feed.

Notes: This one shot is NOT a part of my Dwelling in the Night series. This exists completely on its own.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 723

"Are you sure about this? We don't need to if you aren't up for it anymore." you clarify. "I'm still down for it. Yeah." Marc confirms, "I meant it when I said I want to do this." he comments. You nod, "Okay. Just making sure.".

As a vampire, drinking blood wasn't weird. That was just part of your (undead) life. That is legitimately what you survive off of. But your boyfriend Marc wanting you to drink his blood wasn't that normal. Normally you don't have people willingly giving you their blood to consume. You usually didn't really have a partner to begin with since the whole immortality thing makes relationships hard even if they were committed relationships. But with Marc being an avatar of Khonshu, this relationship actually worked without the fear of him aging and all that sappy stuff.

Anyways, back to drinking his blood.

It wasn't your idea, it was his. He just kind of asked if you wanted to give it a try and "see what happens" since he doesn't know if avatar blood does anything, and you just said sure because it was free blood. Was there a chance that Khonshu would be mad because Marc's body was technically under his ownership? Yes, with how dramatic he is. But it wasn't like you were going to take a lot. It was just little a taste test. At least to you, it is.

"Okay." you say, "Just relax for me," you recommend as you. "Do you want fangs or a cut?" you ask. Marc blinks in confusion at the options and you hum in response. "Okay, so you wanted fangs. Got it." you say. You hold out your hand for his arm but you notice him tilt the collar of his shirt so that his neck and collarbone are more out. "Oh, we're doing it blood drive style." Marc mumbles under his breath as he redoes his shirt and holds out his arm like you wanted but you're more caught up on how you've realized how he wanted to do this.

"Marc," you say with a slightly disappointed tut. "What? I thought we were gonna do it that way." Marc states trying to divert any attention to his slightly blushing face. "When have you ever seen me doing it like that? I drink from blood bags." you question. "I'm sorry. I just thought you wanted to try it like that." Marc apologizes as he attempts to brush it off and save himself from further embarrassment. "The neck method makes a mess even if I bite away from the arteries and major veins. I'm not trying to be Dracula, Marc." you explain.

"Well I mean, Dracula had three brides, and you have me, Steven, and Jake." Marc says quickly, possibly meaning for it to be a joke but realizing that it makes the situation more dumb. "Shut up." you lightheartedly roll your eyes.

"Do you still want to do this?" Marc was now asking. You answer with sure and scoot closer to Marc on the couch. Marc sticks out his arm again but you push it down and make your way closer to his neck. "No, we're doing it the way you wanted to, you little freak." you banter.

You push his shirt collar down and look over the skin to find a safe and clean spot to bite and drink from. Marc tenses and groans when your fangs break his skin but he follows your instructions and relaxes as your mouth sucks up the leaking blood. You can hear him groan and feel him squirm a bit, but something lets you know that it's not out of discomfort.

You pull away and move your tongue over the remaining blood in your mouth to get a better taste and see if it feels different from normal blood, but you sense none.

You look at Marc and decide to mess with him and give him a kiss on the cheek knowing that it will leave a little red print in the shape of your lips. But when you do, Marc turns his head so that he kisses you which leads to a french kiss that is mostly done by him. You're pretty sure Marc has no issue with tasting, and probably has tasted, his own blood in his mouth before but when you break away you huff and jokingly call him a freak again.

[anjanahalo]

Dracula

May 4

I only heard of this woman in the memes, the frantic woman who, unable to convince Jonathan that going out, especially tonight, was a foolhardy thing, gifts him a rosary, the only thing she can think of to protect this naive young man.

Jonathan, a proper Englishman who is both Protestant and Scientific, of course doesn’t believe the rosary is anything but beads on a string, that some saint’s feast day won’t affect anyone’s fortunes, and knows his logically trained brain, set on fulfilling his contracted business, works better than these rustic innkeepers’ minds.

But he wears the rosary just the same. Certain things transcend religion and logic, and a mother’s love and fear for a child, even one not her own, is one of them. He knows it’s just a necklace that can’t do anything, but on his neck it hangs. After all, it won’t hurt anything.

Now, onward to business!

Edit: Listening to Re: Dracula after reading helps in reminding me of such impressions as the fact that, because Jonathan is a proper Englishman who won’t be deterred from his duties by superstitions, he also ignores the sinking feeling that something is off, something is very Wrong. It won’t stop him from proceeding, because what is a “bad feeling” in the face of duty and logic? But he still writes a rather morbid note of goodbye to Mina in his journal.

And, idolatrous as it is, he wears the rosary.

[fandomcrazy6226]

Liveblogging Dracula Daily - May 18/19

Ok since these days are both super short I'm just doing them together. Also I just added a bunch of links to the previous posts, and I think I'll continue to do so. I'll probably also make a masterlist after I do all the catchup posts tonight

Starting with May 18!

Investigating the door, good move. And definitely not how he'd found it, 100% unable to open. So all of that really happened (we been knew), time to do something about it

May 19

Got some weird letter requests here. One saying he's done at the castle, one saying he's leaving the castle, and one saying he's gotten back to the village

Yeah, definitely a moment to play along. Absolutely no leverage here to argue, just do what he says. Try to live longer

So the Count is gonna basically hold the letters until it's time for them to be sent. And they're gonna be dated as June 12, June 19, and June 26. So Jonathan thinks that's how long he has to live I guess

Short updates, ooh and the next one is back to Mina and Lucy! Y'know, I don't know how the actual book is structured but I really like reading it chronologically. It just makes the most sense to my brain rather than jumping around a timeline

PREVIOUS / NEXT

[iamthecomet]

it's 1:00am and something just came to me

aurora: sorry babe i'm on my period :-( not tonight

aeon: (leaves the room)

aeon: (comes back in wearing a dracula cape)

aeon: Vhatever do you mean

i read a period fic one (1) time (cannot for the life of me remember who wrote it sadly ☹️) and it changed my brain chemistry forever

spreading the weird freak aeon agenda one ask at a time amen 😇🔥🍊🧡🙏🫶👍

This is so fucking random but ever since you sent me this (weeks ago), I keep running into this shit! Watched a movie with a scene like this in it. Read a book (not even a smut book! I was NOT expecting it) with something like this in it. IT'S JUST AROUND ME NOW. YOU'VE CONJURED IT. I'm not very into period/menstruation kink, personally (not a hard stop, but also not INTO it, just very neutral "eh" territory). HOWEVER, I am 100% positive that the ghouls (Aeon especially) are totally down with it. It's just another bodily function and half of them are already into blood so WHY NOT.

[dross-the-fish]

Could we get a drabble of Larry convincing Quincy he's a werewolf?

sure. It's not a long scene and Quincey is pretty easy to convince because he's already aware of supernatural creatures since his parents are Johnathan and Mina. I've decided they would be open about their history with Dracula with him.

...

By the time Quincey Harker arrived at Talbot Manor the police were wrapping up their investigation, the last of the blood was being cleaned out and the dismembered bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Talbot were being taken from the scene. Amidst the chaos and noise Larry sat, head in hands on a chair. Quincey noticed his shirt was soaked with blood.

“Larry, what happened?” Quincey rushed to his side and put a hand on Larry’s shoulder.

The look on Larry’s face brook Quincey’s heart. He’d never seen his friend look so lost and frightened, “The wolf…i-it was the wolf,” he choked.

“The one that bit you? It followed you home?” Quincey asked.

“That looks to be what happened,” interjected a police officer who was standing nearby, “There’s been a series of attacks and word of wolves roaming around London. We don’t know how they’re getting inside houses but we just came from a woman’s house, her husband and children were torn apart, paw prints everywhere. Just like here. No human could do this, I reckon young Mr. Lawrence survived because he was locked in his room,” he gave Larry a pitying look as the boy burst into sobs, “We’ll mount a search for the thing tonight and kill it.”

Quincey felt Larry stiffen at the words “kill it” and he wrapped his arm tighter around his friend’s shoulders. Once the police were gone Larry collapsed against Quincey and began to sob, “It was me! I’m the wolf!” he cried.

“What are you talking about?” Quincey took Larry’s face in his hands and pulled him back so he could look at him properly, “What do you mean you’re the wolf?”

“I turned into a wolf last night. My fever broke and…I-I don’t know, I remember my body changing and this horrible urge to hunt. When I came back to myself I was covered in blood and mum and dad were-were…” he couldn’t finish. He quaked from head to foot and wrapped his arms tightly around himself before a terrible cry burst from him, “I killed them, Quinn! I killed mum and dad! How could I do that?!”

Quincey patted him gently, “Larry it couldn’t have been you! People don’t just turn into wolves-“ he stopped, remembering suddenly something his father had told him, “-but vampires can. What if that wolf that attacked you was a vampire?!” he checked Larry’s neck for puncture wounds, “You haven’t been fed off of, we should take you to my parents, they might know more about what’s going on!”

Larry shook his head vehemently and tore the bandages from his arm, “Look, Quin, that bite that I got from the wolf in the park, it’s completely healed! Yesterday it was infected and I was convulsing from the worst fever I’ve ever had. Today I’m the picture of health! I tell you I changed into a wolf last night.”

Quincey knew that his friend was not prone to flights of fancy or delusions and as he examined Larry’s arm, where nothing but a faint scar remained, he realized his friend had to be telling him the truth. Given that Larry being a vampire was not likely Quincey wracked his brain for other supernatural creatures that might fit the scenario and it only took him a moment to reach the answer.

“Larry…I think we need to see my parents as soon as possible. I think you were bitten by a werewolf and we need to do something before you turn again.”

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Muscle Memory

When Emma Cole snaps back to awareness, her hands are stained with blood. 

Her former partner is lying underneath her, thrashing feebly, hands pressed to the bloody slashes on the side of his neck. The red is pooling under him, warm and tempting. She could tear his hands away and suck the life from his veins so, so easily.

But she shouldn’t.

It’s the first training session she’s successfully mastered both flipping over someone pinning her down and ending the move with her stake positioned to be driven through her attacker’s heart. Her legs are still wrapped around John Stoker’s waist, her fingers clenched on the stake hovering an inch above his chest.

He’s grinning at her, proud.

She’s his first trainee since his transfer to Chimera, and she’s doing well. Progressing fast, mastering the skills and physicality that will keep her alive in the field. She’s a credit to his performance.

But she knows he doesn’t care about that.

He’s proud of her because he sees her as a friend and a partner.

“Nice work.” He reaches up to push the stake aside. “Hope you never have to use this one, but that shouldn’t mean you don’t learn it well. That split second of muscle memory could save your life.”

It didn’t. Nothing could have prepared her, could have prepared any of them, for facing a member of the First Circle. 

But it just might have saved John.

Because that move was a part of the real Emma Cole. Muscle memory enough to crack through the walls Arion has been building in her head between who she used to be and what she is now. Enough to stop her from finishing the job she started with her claws at John’s throat. 

A job Arion desperately wants her to finish.

A pain like the hangover from hell is building in her head, behind her eyes, like someone has grabbed her brain and squeezed it in their fist as tightly as they can.

She’s not following the script.

Arion thinks he can force her to. And when he realizes pain isn’t going to convince her, he’s going to override every part of the real Emma Cole still left in her until she’s just a shell under his every whim, doing his dirty work.

He turned her. He most likely killed Adam. But he isn’t stopping there. Arion doesn’t like unfinished business. He doesn’t intend to leave until he’s destroyed everyone with the audacity to come after him.

He doesn’t like to lose.

But tonight, he’s going to.

Finish the job. Kill him, my child, and join me. 

“Get. Out.” Emma hisses aloud. You’re not welcome here. She’s not sure that will do any good, but she never did give Arion permission to be inside her brain.

I made you. I can unmake you.

Fine then. Do it. Then come kill him yourself instead of being a coward who hides behind the faces of his friends. 

She knows why Arion wants her to do this. John wouldn’t hesitate to stake the ancient vampire, but Emma is someone he knew. Someone he trusted. Someone he was willing to kill to protect. And to die to protect.

His hesitation almost cost him his life.

She knows without a doubt that if she attacks again, even if he manages to stake her, it will be the end for them both. 

Get out of my head. You don’t control me.

Foolish child. You’re barely a week old. You cannot hope to challenge me. I have centuries on my side.

And you’re a damn drama queen. She knows that line. It’s something Dracula said in the book John’s ancestor compiled, the record of the people who defined hunters as they’re known today. The people whose legacy he’s part of.

And her too.

And if there’s one thing she remembers from that book, it’s that even a vampire’s influence can be turned against them.

I’ll finish the job, alright. I’ll find you and I’ll find a way to kill you.

Fledglings can never kill their sire.

Oh, but that’s where you underestimate me. I was a hunter, Arion. I know better than to ever work alone. Maybe I can’t kill you, but I can find people who can. And lead them right to you. When they come for their own fallen teammate, I will show them exactly where you are. 

They’ll kill you first, for what you have done to him.

They want you more. If they stake me afterward, so be it. But if I die, I’m taking you with me.

The connection goes dead in a white-noise static, like the radio in John’s car hitting the edge of a station’s reach.

Emma collapses onto the concrete, half on and half off John’s body, with a keening gasp. 

“Em?” John asks, weakly, struggling to sit up with his hands still holding his blood inside him the best he can. She can hear engines, tires, brakes screeching. His SOS was routed to the nearest patrols. They’re coming to get him like she knew they would.

She can’t lead them to Arion now.

And despite her bravado, she doesn’t really want to die.

Not yet.

She strips off the black leather jacket she’s been wearing since the hunt where she died, the Chimera’s head embroidered on it stained with blood and earth. 

She presses the inner lining to John’s neck, repositions his hands over it, and then scrambles to her feet and bolts into the darkness, leaving the last pieces of her life as a hunter behind her.

It’s time to find out who Emma Cole is as a vampire.

(You can read this story and more from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I think there is nothing like watching a jack o’lantern flickering while sitting on a dark, cold, and windy porch to make you feel like life is worth living.

I’m not joking. Candles nice, but a candle inside a freshly carved pumpkin is simply magical. I can gaze at them for hours, and on Halloween with my town’s lack of trick or treaters I usually do.

Tonight the pumpkins glowed extra wonderfully since it was so dark. It was very cloudy (though the rain held off) and, as usual, everyone on within sight of Mom’s house had their lights off. It’s always a bit funny, actually. They normally have a ridiculous number of lights on their houses, but at Halloween they are so afraid of encouraging trick or treating that they even tend to go to the backs of their houses so they can turn off the lights on the front rooms. But on top of all that it turns out that all the street lights around the house were out. They only lights were my pumpkins and lanterns**.

I got two trick or treaters! I’d resigned myself to getting none again, when a woman and her two kids stopped the car just passed the house and rushed back. All three, even the Mom, were in costume, and chattering happily. I was the only house giving out candy, so I made sure they had plenty. I shoved my cauldron over and told them to take whatever they wanted. I’m not sure who was the more relieved, them to find someone with candy, or me finally able to get rid of some.

That makes it worth doing every year. Two kids avoided being disappointed and I got to be entranced by the mixture of flaming wax and a hollowed out vegetable.

Weirdly, since I hadn’t noticed it was even about to bloom, a huge sweet smelling red rose was blooming. I assume this is the only time I’ve picked a rose on Halloween.

Now to do the annual watching of my favorite Dracula (Count Dracula, BBC, 1977). Fingers crossed my only old R2 DVD still works. I have bought the R1 DVD three times over the years, and every time it soon fails. I wish it were more popular so I could be sure I could get a new copy if this disc ever dies on me. Too bad DVDs aren’t as durable as vampires.

Sorry to ramble. I only had four hours of sleep, and had a ton to do today. My brain is mush.

Anyway, Happy Halloween folks!

** For safety I set a row from the street to the house, and to make sure they see me I put a lot on around the steps where I sit with the candy. The pumpkins go at the unlit end of the porch.

[bringmefoxgloves]

i am now actually sitting down and listening to the downward spiral in full tonight (surprising i haven't) cause i'm in a music mood. so witness my live track by track filled with a lot of imagery. that's just how my mind works. okay here we go:

damn. mr. self destruct already has my entire attention and has me by the throat. the electric guitar breakdown at the end...... just jfc that song feels like my heart is a misshapen record with scratches and it's being played with an icepick.

piggy makes me feel like i'm in the middle of the summer and walking through one of those massive drainage pipes until about minute two. and then a summer storm rolls in and i'm about to drown. and listening to trent reznor inhale in the play out is doing something to me.

heresy HOLY SHIT feels like i'm driving at night in a car that has a conversation in the front that you really want to hear but the bass boosted speakers against your back are rattling your teeth in your head so hard you can't hear anything but your bones clicking. but then you're in a car crash. also the lyrics are so wes-core i feel like this is just my brain draining out of my ears after said car crash.

march of the pigs is like you're playing a mario or sonic level from hell in the middle of a berlin nightclub while on a mixture of drugs that will have you raving for weeks. i fucking love it. the switch that feels as sudden as a tapedeck clicking on the lyrics of 'now doesn't it make you feel better?' with the piano.... if there is a way to make audio moments physical so i could fit them inside my mouth and chew? yes, that is one i would like to have.

closer.... need I say more. this is one i have heard before (you would have to be dead to not have heard closer) but now that it's in the atmosphere of the entirety of the downward spiral, it's only better. yes i want you to fuck me like an animal mr reznor. this lava lamp type of electric sound & marriage of bass is a physical presence and it is perhaps fucking me.

that transition into ruiner WAS CLEAN!!! i feel like i'm in the middle of a mosh pit that is somehow in like. idk dracula's castle. that entire section (you know the one in this) is indeed a dick metaphor. and then when the tortured guitar that sounds like it’s about to snap every one of its strings played by a resurrected jimi hendrix that really hates you in particular comes in it just is. so much. hearing the wetness of reznor's mouth as he breathes in and out is.... i shan't say.

oh WOW that cut off from ruiner to the becoming had me pausing and going wait. that's insane. anyways the becoming. teheheh i beat my machine. ALRIGHT ALRIGHT. i'm in the middle of the nightclub featured in the collection (2012). and i'm absolutely jamming to the screams while reznor's voice is carrying me by puppet strings. the switchup after the line 'but it's all clear' feels like i'm now on the floor slowly bleeding out, and then i'm being torn apart by dogs. goddamn this noise inside my head, indeed.

i do not wait this, but yes, yes, i really do want this. please keep speaking directly into my head yes. the music is scratching an itch i didn’t know i had. the entire last minute of the lyrics is #mood. hearing trent pronouncing 'fuck' in that way makes you think about the meaning of the word.

ooooo funky noise and drumbeat that has me immediately bouncing my leg. yessss big man with a gun. this is pure machismo and makes a gun the tool of sex. (meme voice) oh wow.

a warm place. just. is me floating facedown in a saltwater pool filled with water from the dead sea. i feel so cradled and light. glorious. completely immersed in this instrumental like few instrumentals ever make me.

eraser at the beginning makes me think i'm driving through some godforsaken part of the american west and the radio is on and the people in the car are making funny noises over the radio static. then that drum kicks in and the bass layers like i'm about to enter a boss battle. it's a cobra with those cartoon eyes that are swirls and it wants me to kiss it. then it all snaps apart for trent to swoop in riding a hurricane screaming: kill me.

reptile, the start has me thinking i'm back in the backroom of an empty grocery store trying to sneak away from a killer. the sudden smash in at the one minute mark is me hitting the ground. dead. the rest of the song i feel like i'm overhearing sex between an angel and a devil while i'm tied like a dog on the floor at the end of the bed.

the title track!!! the downward spiral at the start of it has me feeling like a fly buzzing against a broken glass window after escaping a dish of honey, too drunk to find my way out from the gap directly in front of me. once trent's voice comes in, with those screams in the background.... i feel like he's leaning into my ear and confessing to this in a darken movie theater watching a goresplattering flick.

and goddamn. hurt. i had heard the johnny cash cover of this before i ever heard this one, and then i listened to the original shortly after and it's the only other song i've heard before (closer was the other). but once again, with it in context of this album..... it feels like a baptism in wine you're not quite sure isn't just blood that trent reznor poured out for you from his own wrists. just. goddamn. godamn. it sounds like he has salvation right in his trembling hands and is asking you to take its heavy burden from him, please, but instead it’s a knife he guts you like a fish with, and you still say thank you.

conclusion: if i had heard this album in middle or high school i would have become a very different person i think. i might have burned down the catholic church i grew up in. i might have had sex even. that's how powerful and solid and sensual this album is. it has its reputation for a reason, and i can't believe i hadn't heard this album in full before this. but i have now. also robin finck i need your gender NOW

[nolanhollogay]

hiding face in neck

c'mon even More trauma!!

tw for descriptions of a murder :0

+

Limbrey stood in the center of the room, still just as blonde and regal as when Edgar has last seen her. Ward was beside her, to her left, and the man who had stabbed Edgar was on her right. They looked like a nightmarish trio of PTA parents in their business casual clothing.

"The guy with the crazy eyes," Edgar whispered, making Rafe tilt his head to hear him, "What's his name?"

"Renfield," he replied. "Why?"

Like Dracula's servant, Edgar's mind supplied. "He's the guy who stabbed me."

Rafe tensed, bristling like an angry dog.

If he tried anything, he'd blow their cover. Then this whole scheme would be for nothing, and even worse, they'd probably get killed.

"It's fine," Edgar said, grabbing his wrist, "I'm fine."

Rafe relaxed ever so slightly, but his jaw stayed clenched so hard it had to hurt his teeth.

"I'm fine," Edgar repeated, but it was drowned out by Limbrey calling for the room's attention.

She smiled at the crowd, a collection of rich men and women - and him and Rafe - all dressed like an H&M catalogue. It was kind of disappointing that they all obviously had money but didn't even try to flaunt. They could've at least made their slimeball business tactics worthwhile.

"Thank you all for coming tonight,"she exclaimed, beaming. "It's an honor to have such esteemed members of society in one room, to see something so important."

The "esteemed members of society" gave her a round of applause, and she grinned so wide that her mouth turned sharklike. She cleared her throat, subtly tapping Renfield on the back. Without a word, he left.

"Before we show you what you've all come to see," she began as Renfield came back, wheeling something on a chair. "We have a bit of a demonstration for you."

Edgar frowned as he realized what exactly he was looking at. "That looks like-"

His suspicions were confirmed as Renfield removed the sheet and revealed a man underneath. He was tied to a swivel chair, with duct tape over his mouth. His face was red, tearsoaked, and bruised on his cheekbone.

Edgar gasped at the sight of him as did almost everyone else in the room.

Limbrey continued to smile. "This is Steven, a man we'd hired to guard the cross," she explained, "He'd been doing an excellent job until we overheard him on the phone, telling his wife eveything he'd seen since he started his new job."

Renfield pulled a gun from the holster on his hip, pressed it to Steven's temple.

"No," Edgar whispered. Rafe gripped his arm as he unthinkingly took a step forward.

"It's a shame that he was so excited," Limbrey said with a sigh. Renfield pulled the trigger. As Steven's brains, and his skull, and whatever lived in his head burst out of it, Rafe pulled Edgar against him, hiding him against his neck.

Edgar choked on something that was half sob half gasp, falling into him.

"That is what will happen if any of you speak about the cross outside of this room. Understand?"