#given its blade and i love blade and i wouldn't hate a blade game probably so don't fuck it up

[zazikels]

why would you give arkane a vampire ip so soon after redfall

[miaumeiw]

heeheeeheeeee Silas character sheet

● Often says that he is fine (OBVIOUSLY ISNT) or that the blood on his hands is just "forbidden ketchup"

● Very unserious, immature, and stupid when he wants to be (most of the time)

● Only gets serious when his loved ones are in danger or himself

● Pretends to be fine around others just to collapse the moment they leave

● Finds comfort in items from his loved ones, (clothes, pins, etc.)

● Used to play a bit of guitar but forgot how

● He can kind of cry on command, he just has to think about how his loved ones felt when he left them

● His favorite thing is probably some stupid mobile game that he keeps to himself

● Responds to "Bird Boy" or "shithead" on occasion (silly old oc design refrence)

● Absolutely hates Kenny but doesn't mind him much because he keeps Milo safe

● Only says "I love you" to the people he feels actually deserve it

● A total bitch to most other people and only allows certain people to touch him

● One moment he'll be listening to Lights Out by Mindless Self Indulgence and then the next he'll be listening to Castaways by The Backyardigans

● LOVES to rant about his special interests (dinosaurs, bugs, sharks, and ESPECIALLY space)

● If some random person was pretending to be him, just ask what his favorite thing about his boyfriend is. He WILL start ranting about how wonderful and amazing his boyfriend is

● As stated earlier, he is VERY immature. Laughs anytime someone says penis.

● Very good at hiding his emotions. VERY.

● He's a bit scared of fire so he'll just blow on a candle aggressively and go hide.

● He's a very lively person around others but when he's alone he recoils into his mind and just thinks. Best to snap him out of it before he goes on a murderous rampage.

● Likes to talk about the silly "brainworms" that he has. (Secretly just him splitting up his personalities in his head.)

● Often wonders things about the vessel he got thrown in (lore, will explain later) since it

has most of his old features.

● Absolutely LOVES his boyfriend 100%. Dude will do anything for that mf. Even if it means murder.

● At any given chance they will fight with Kenny. Doesn't matter where.

● Messiest eater you will ever meet.

● DEADLY AFRAID OF MICROWAVES.

● Feels guilty about hurting Milo a few times even tho he (Milo) doesn't remember

● He LOVES white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

● He knows a lot of those random facts that you just remember sometimes. Most commonly related to his interests.

● Would probably break down if he was fired, even though his boss wouldn't fire him. (She's too nice)

● Once gifted a blade of grass by Axel (his not really friend friend) and ate it.

● Usually gets things he wants through being persuaded or he'll get it by force.

● If you don't believe him, he'll probably shrug it off. Can't do much to change what you think.

● Doesn't feel bad about doing anything regarded to his work but does get a bit sad when

he accidentally hurts people he's close to.

● Almost got caught stealing from a candy store once.

● If he doesn't like you he would most likely be passive aggressive and when nobody is looking he'd call you insults.

● Very affectionate if he likes you. (hugs, handshakes, highfives, fistbumps, etc.)

● Once put cheese in a toaster. Never again.

● Definitely doesn't watch Milo while he sleeps. (he does)

● Really good at random tricks alone but when he tries to show someone he fails miserably. (stopped when someone got a concussion)

● Prefers to stay inside and not at social gatherings.

● If you shake his hand loosely and he barely likes you, he'll grip your hand and shake it tighter. If he likes you enough to be friends, he'll ask if you're alright.

● Picked up random mannerisms of animals. (He watched too much discovery channel as a kid)

● Definitely would hold a TED Talk about "Why it's okay to break into Milo's house"

● Doesn't get things like "Its raining cats and dogs" because idioms are scary.

● Could probably learn French if he wanted to.

● Talks a lot but if you have something more important to say he will gladly listen.

● Forgot about Erin but Erin remembers him well. (With or without the new vessel)

● Down to do anything (except follow the law)

● Immediate response to anything is to fight. Used to be flight.

● Epic music taste??? But it's all over the place.

● Bird person. No cats. No dogs. No lizards. BIRDS.

• Didn't enjoy killing people, but A, he got used to it, and B, his boss pays big bucks >:3

[mariyekos]

I should've gone to sleep an hour ago but I was inspired so take 1,200 words of a Dante + Morrison interaction that will probably be part of the first chapter if I ever turn this into a full fic.

“Home sweet home!” Dante announces, throwing his hands into the air and basking in the glory of the sight before him: his very own shop, freshly bought and very much not freshly painted. If he had to give it a rough estimate, he'd say the landlord hasn't bothered to do anything with the place in a good ten, maybe fifteen years.

In other words it's beyond all expectations. An absolute beaut. The new light of his life, no question. 

Morrison merely sighs, taking a drag of his cigar. When he speaks, he's clearly unimpressed. A real shame given all the effort he put into getting this place for Dante, but to each their own. “You sure this is where you want to settle down this time, Dante? In case your eyes were too focused on the prize, half of the buildings around here are condemned, and half of the rest look like they should be.”

Dante shrugs. “Eh, details. It has a roof and four walls and that's good enough if you ask me. Besides- we already paid the first three months’ rent, didn't we? Unless you're about to break out your own pocket book for me, there's no way I can afford somewhere else.”

“That I won't, and that you can't,” Morrison replies, shaking his head and pushing open the doors to Casa Dante many-point-oh. A plume of dust is kicked up by the motion, causing the man to fan in front of his face as he speaks. “I'll never cease to be impressed by how much money you seem to bleed. You'd think a man with your history would be rich by this point, yet somehow you're always drifting between broke and penniless. You've certainly had the time to earn your fortune.”

Dante moves past him, walking to the back of the room and hopping on the desk there. It's a solid piece of wood, and what most people would consider an antique. It's probably got a good thirty, maybe forty years on it. 

So yeah- an antique by some people's standards, even if Dante's definition of the term would add at least a few decades to the end. It has its charm.

“Look, there are a lot of things in this world more precious than money, and I'm not the kind of guy to get hung up on payments. I've got time to earn what I need,” he insists, kicking his feet back and forth as best he can without catching the edge of the desk with his heel. His boots are lined with steel and he'd hate to damage the thing so soon after their introduction.

Morrison sighs. “So long as you keep paying me for my services.”

“Twenty percent of every job.”

“Twenty percent of zero’s still zero.”

“Semantics.”

“I don't think that's how that word's supposed to be used.”

“And I say it doesn't matter. You know I'll always pay you back eventually. Always have, always will.”

“Mm, I suppose, but your definition of a timely payment ain't the same as mine, and I've got a retirement to plan. The wife keeps nagging and I can only appease her for so long.”

Dante snorts, throwing his head back as he does so. “You've been saying that for the last fifteen years. I'll bet you my right arm we'll still be working together in fifteen more.”

Morrison laughs at that, swiping his finger on an unlit lamp before wiping the dust off on the back of his pants. Frankly Dante's not sure what Morrison expected when he did that. The room looks like someone took a leaf blower full of dirt and put it on full blast.

“And after thirty years of working with you, I know that's a damn stupid bet to take. I've seen you with more of your chest filled by creepy demon blade than organs. If you cut the thing off I wouldn't be surprised if it grew back the next day.” 

“Your loss,” Dante teases.

“Sometimes the only way to win is to not play the game,” Morrison counters.

Dante throws his hands in the air. “Alright, alright. You've got me.” He sighs, taking a look around. “But thanks. I mean it. I really loved the old place, but you know how people get if I stick around too long.”

Morrison nods. “That I do.” Then he walks up to Dante, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sitting on the desk, they're closer in height than they'd be were Dante standing. “Take care of yourself, Dante. I'll do my part keeping people off your back best I can, but a name change only gets you so far trying to be incognito in a business like yours. White hired, red-coat wearing demon hunters with a big-ass skull-faced sword like yours ain't exactly a dime a dozen.”

Dante merely smiles in response, waiting until Morrison withdraws his touch to speak. Morrison's a good man and no doubt one of the best friends he's ever had, but he has a policy when it comes to people: never let anyone too close. 

It only ever ends badly, after all. He's long since learned that lesson the hard way.

“I know. But I've been doing this a long time and I'll make it now just like I always have. Might even be better with your help. Never had someone to do that for me before. It was always clumsy old me and maybe a contracted helper or two who didn't know half the stuff you do trying to make a man disappear from one place and reappear as a new one someplace else. So I'll be fine.”

“Communication wasn't as easy back then either,” Morrison warns. “Information travels mighty quick in the modern age.”

Dante shrugs again. Technology's always changing- if he got so caught up in how that might impact him, he'd never get anywhere. And even if he does he has Morrison. He'll be fine, really.

This time it's enough, as Morrison gives uo with a few shakes of his head. 

“Fine, fine. I know which battles I ain't gonna win, and I ain't the type of man to pick a losing battle when I don't have to. Here're your papers, Mister Tony Redgrave. Don't lose ‘em- forging is a sensitive business, and I don't want to have to make copies because you forgot where you put ‘em, capisce?” 

Morrison shoves an envelope toward Dante's chest. Dante takes it graciously, leaning back to jimmy open one of the desk drawers and put the envelope inside. There's no need for him to check the contents now; Morrison's a professional, and he's never short of perfect. Everything Dante needs but doesn't already have is sure to be in there and sure to be exactly as it needs to be. Checking would just be an insult at this point. 

“Capisco,” Dante responds with a salute, earning a few grumbles about proper pronunciation and being shown up that Dante politely ignored despite the fact that they both know he can hear them loud and clear. If Morrison actully didn't want Dante to know his thoughts and opinions, he'd have kept them silent. Dante's got eyes like a hawk and ears like a… an…elephant? Do they hear well? Or are their ears just big? He's not really sure, but he can hear just about anything within a distance far greater than a human so the point is he hears it, Morrison knows, and it's part of their relationship-slash-game to pretend he doesn't even though they both know he did. 

One day I want to write an AU where Dante and Vergil were actually born a few hundred/thousand years pre-story, which is something Dante tries to hide while Vergil doesn't. I have 2 main ideas for it- DMC1/3 Fusion AU and DMC4 AU. These got long, so I'm putting them under the cut!

In the DMC1 AU, it'd be sort of like a combination of the anime, DMC3, and what you see in DMC1. Dante'd look like he's in his late 20s for this one. He and Lady would meet because they've both been hired for the same job, then encounter each other on some odd jobs before they end up working together on a big one. Maybe Arkham killed Kalina Ann when Lady was a teenager, but didn't manage to enact the rest of his plans right away so Lady's been chasing him for a decade, hunting demons in hopes of finding a lead. Dante meanwhile just likes the human world, so he goes from place to place hunting demons until it gets too suspicious he's not aging and he has to leave. This AU'd have branching paths at the big job they take take together: the Temen-ni-gru or Mallet Island. In both cases Dante and Vergil haven't spoken for a while. Vergil's gone silent for years or even a decade or two in the past, but he'll have a bad feeling about this particular silence (for good reason).

The main difference between the two would be who Arkham allies with. In both cases, Lady isn't aware of how old Dante is, or just *who* he is until partway through. She knows he's part demon, but with the way he acts she assumes he's actually in his late twenties and the kid of a demon that was probably fairly powerful, but unknown. But the truth would come out partway through, which...would maybe change things, maybe not. It would be a shock regardless.

Back to the branches though, in Mallet you could go with the plot where Arkham is trying to revive Mundus, so Dante intervenes. This one would have a Nelo Angelo bit (making Dante feel terrible because he'd just allowed Mundus to do whatever he wanted with Vergil for who knows how long, all because he hadn't bofhered to check up on his unusually silent brother). I might have a sort of B-plot involving Lady, Arkham, and Trish to accompany the Dante, Mundus, and Vergil angle.

With the Temen-ni-gru, it would be your classic Arkham+Vergil relationship, but with a much older Vergil he wouldn't be tricked by Arkham this time. Arkham would think he has Vergil in the palm of his hand until he clearly doesn't and Vergil deals a fatal blow as soon as Arkham pulls off his betrayal. I think Lady would be pissed Vergil stole her kill, but ultimately have to back down for the Dante vs Vergil fight because with that many extra years under their belts, she'd be no match. Seeing them would be an interesting contrast though, because Vergil so clearly clings to the past (he'd be in a more Renaissance style than Dante) while Dante's all about the present and human world. This one...I think would be harder to resolve than the other one, because I'm not sure how Dante would convince someone so set in his ways (again, hundreds of years old at a minimum) to change, but it could be fun to play with.

As for the DMC4 AU, this one would be a case where Nero is still a teenager, and Dante's really surprised because oh boy, who in the *world* managed to convince Vergil to sleep with them when he'd been so uptight for centuries? And Dante's excited to have a family member and can't help but mess with them.

I think in this one it might also be fun if Fortuna was aware that Sparda had children because then you'd have a case where people potentially worship said children, whether or not they realize it's Dante. Maybe Vergil ruled Fortuna for a little while after Sparda left and that meant people knew he existed. Dante hadn't been aware he'd apparently come back, but Nero's proof enough so he's really going to have to have a talk with Vergil the next time he returns from his travels. I'm not set on whether the people of Fortuna would know that Sparda had twins, or if they'd just know about Vergil and thus be in denial that Dante could possibly be the son of Sparda because he's *so* different. In either case eventually people (or at least Nero and Kyrie) would have to reconcile Dante with the figure they'd been worshipping and that would be hard (and for Dante, hilarious). I think in this one I might make Lady part of a bloodline that has fought alongside Sparda since he split the Human and Demon worlds, sort of like the Castlevania series with Alucard and the Belmonts, while Trish would be someone Dante recruited a few decades to centuries ago (importantly, she's younger than him).

In this one I think part of the driving force would be that Dante wants humanity to be able to protect itself/prove its worth, or for Nero to protect them/prove his worth, because if they/Nero don't then Dante's worried Vergil might instead deem humanity a scourge and do something bad.

The plot of DMC4 revolves around humans using demons to fuel their own power, and in this case I think Dante will have found out about what Fortuna was doing too late to erase what they've done, so it's a case where humans need to prove that there are more good humans than bad humans so Vergil doesn't slam down the hammer. Dante can encourage them in the right direction, but he can't carry them the whole way. If he does then Vergil will deem his interference proof of humanity's weakness and do...Dante isn't totally sure what, but he doesn't like how Vergil's been the past few decades and he's increasingly been feeling like Vergil might decide he's had enough of the human world and side with the members of the demon world Dante *knows* have been slipping through the border to speak to Vergil. And while Dante doesn't think he'd *lose* to Vergil, the battle would lead to immense destruction and would weaken them enough that Dante's fairly sure Mundus or some other demon would take advantage of the chance to invade the human world while they're in no state to defend it.

...Anyway! That's two/three ideas for first that I will...maybe get to, one day, once I finish the million other fic ideas I have. I just really like the concept of "totally goofy guy is actually super old" or "frustratingly unserious guy is actually one of the guys you grew up worshipping, somehow." I think there's a lot of room for fun there.

[lepusrufus]

Wrong victim

Pure comedic self indulgence because we all need a funny break before shit starts to really go down in To bargain for immortality. Set quite a few years after the game events, around 2025, and is pure ridiculousness so enjoy.

////

Her response to being unceremoniously shoved in the back seat of a car that looked like it's seen far better days was merely an annoyed grunt. It turned into an eye roll when the man that climbed in after her pulled everything out of her pockets. 

"Wouldn't want you calling anyone," he said with a toothy grin while waving her phone in front of her. 

"Trust me, that won't be necessary," she replied in a deadpan voice. It's not like she would call the police, she wanted them involved even less than her kidnappers probably did. As for other people she could reach out to, a phone call would be redundant really. "Do be careful with it, I'd hate to lose the photos of Daniela sleeping upside down." 

After maybe ten minutes of driving down the barely illuminated outskirts of the city, and having her pockets emptied, dagger included, the burly man driving pulled up inside a parking lot. It was large and overgrown with weeds and vines reclaiming spaces that had been left without human activity for who knows how long. The lamp posts were nothing more than useless concrete pillars as they provided no illumination, resulting in her pitiful captors having to use flashlights as they made their way into the dilapidated factory. 

Nicole sneered at the sight of collapsed walls and rusty metal walkways, reminding her of the one particular Lord she couldn't stand the sight of. She decided a distraction was needed from unpleasant memories. 

"Abandoned factory?" She whistled. "How many cliche movies have you guys watched?" 

She let out a chuckle when the man that had previously taken her phone shoved her ahead. Hopefully they wouldn't tape her mouth shut, there was so much fun to be had by mockery alone. 

It didn't take long before all three of them entered a dimly lit room, numerous candles placed all around, either on desks or candle supports nailed to the walls. The three more people inside were wearing long black robes and white masks covering their faces. Nicole had to laugh. 

"Oh so you're that kinda crazy." 

"Shut the fuck up and stay put," the man holding her hands behind her back said while pushing her into a chair. 

He then moved to a table and Nicole couldn't help but scowl at how unceremoniously her beloved dagger had been thrown on the wooden surface. Afterwards, he put on a mask not unlike the others, except with red streaks going down from the eye holes, and started to prepare something in the middle of the room. The others joined in on the task, all but the one man that had been put in charge of making sure Nicole stayed put. Because of course she could easily escape five people much bigger than her at any given moment. 

She decided to take a look around, at the various dusty books opened on pages she couldn't quite make out from where she was sitting. A few pages were laying around, either with diagrams or with scribbled notes. Had she really stumbled upon a cult? She couldn't wait to have a laugh about it with her family. 

"So," she started, craning her neck a little so she could see her captor's face. "Who you gonna sacrifice me to huh? I wanna know before you slice up my throat or whatever you're planning on." 

A confused and suspicious look was thrown her way, surely due to the complete nonchalance she spoke with about what would surely be her untimely death. "The… the devil," was his unsure reply. 

Nicole let out a small laugh. "Oh trust me, you do not want to meet her. Though devil is not quite the word," she continued despite a few other pairs of eyes landing on her. "Maybe a pissy fungal overlord with an unhealthy obsession for crows. Yes that's more like it," she finished with another chuckle. 

The man with a slightly different mask, who seemed to be their self appointed leader, got up from where he was nailing something to the floor and walked up to her in a few long strides. His eyes were barely visible, but anger was clearly distinguishable. 

He pulled out a knife, old, rusty and with a black worn out handle so typical of a kitchen utensil, and so incredibly ugly compared to the beautifully ornate daggers that decorated her home. She had to laugh when the dull blade got pressed to her throat. 

"Will you shut up for one minute?!" He raised his voice slightly, as much as someone who was doing something they didn't wish to be caught doing would dare to. It didn't deter her though. 

"Oh sweetie this is just what foreplay looks to me," she started with a grin that made her wish she had fangs like the better part of her relatives. "But please do me a favor and stay quiet, there's no fun in hunting if my darling finds you within five seconds due to you screeching like a broken squeaky toy." 

The man blinked for a few seconds, taken aback both by the words and by the apparent passivity towards having a knife at her throat. He stayed like that until one person that was working with some ropes behind interjected. 

"Of all the people you could've taken, how did you find this unhinged bitch?!" 

"I'll take that as a compliment," Nicole said, bending slightly to the side so the person that had spoken up would have a clear view of her sickly sweet smile. 

After that exchange, her captors seemed happy to move things along quicker, working in silence and begrudgingly ignoring any remarks she would throw their way, including an observation on the downright dreadful quality of the rope they had. Quality that she regrettably got to experience when her wrist and ankles got tied to the nails in the floor, having her lay down in a starfish position. It kind of reminded her of sprawling on the bed she shared with Cassandra simply to annoy the brunette. 

After loudly reciting something in latin, the leader bent down, same rusty knife in hand, and tipped her chin upwards to expose the neck. She did let out a wince when the blade sunk deep in her flesh and got dragged downward, towards her chest, leaving behind a choking sensation and the taste of copper in her mouth. The knife however only made it to the base of her neck, before the sound of metal crashing caught everyone's attention. 

"What the fuck," the man whispered, thankfully pulling the blade out so her skin had the time to begin stitching itself back together. She still had to turn her head around and spit some blood that made its way into her mouth. 

Before anyone else had a chance to speak up, the door was kicked open, one of the rusty hinges breaking completely, to reveal a rather angry Cassandra with her sickle in hand, ready for bloodshed. 

There were a few seconds of stunned silence before the blade was unceremoniously thrown into the first person's skull, spinning through the air for only a few meters before getting embedded into the bone with a sloshing sound. Anyone else trying to escape through the one door was met with a similar fate. One person had their knees kicked inwards before a knife held at the same belt as the sickle came down to slash their throat. Another had their head smashed to bits against the nearest wall in the blink of an eye. And last, the burly man that had driven and kept an eye on Nicole, had his heart ripped through the bottom of his ribcage when Cassandra shoved him against one of the tables, scattering the books and papers that were by then stained crimson. 

The remaining man, the leader, got grabbed by the shoulders and forcefully shoved into the same chair she had been sitting in not too long ago. 

"Stay put and I'll let you live," Cassandra spoke, all the cruelty polished over decades upon decades of sporting the title of the family's most sadistic coming through those few words. 

He gulped and nodded, eyes glossed over by the pure human terror now so unfamiliar to both of them. 

She then turned around, expression softening like a switch had been turned behind golden eyes. "Nicole," she started, barely an edge of concern and irritation at the sight of her wife's bloody skin. 

"Hi babe." The self satisfied grin almost had the brunette chuckling while she retrieved her sickle and Nicole's things. 

The weapon was used to cut her free, a grimace pulling the corners of her black lips downward at the same quality observation her wife had priorly made, no doubt. A hand was offered to Nicole to pull herself up, while the other presented the familiar dagger that was gifted to her so many years ago. 

"Will you do the honors love," Cassandra asked, with that beautifully sadistic smile. 

"Of course," came Nicole's reply as her hand wrapped around the leather covered handle. 

With some of the wretched ropes gathered from the ground, Cassandra made quick work of the man's hands and legs, securely tied to the chair and voice frantic. 

"You said you would let me live!" 

Cassandra laughed, a low ominous sound, while grabbing the mask and throwing it on the floor. She did love to see the terror in her victims' faces after all. 

"Unfortunately my wife made no such promises," she finished with a forceful pull of hair that kept his head in one place as she moved to the back of the chair. 

Nicole approached with the dagger already out of its holster and tapped the blade's point against her lips in thought for a few moments. She could simply slice his throat and be done with it, or stab him and leave him to bleed out, choking on his own blood. A hum made its way past her lips. No, no that would not do. 

She grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt, pulling it up almost to the neck. After a few mental measurements and approximations were made, the tip of the blade finally found its way into muscle, drawing thin trails of blood and pained screams. It took a good five minutes to carve all the intricate details she wanted to, the swirling patterns cutting cleanly through skin, courtesy of her wife keeping the blade sharp and in top condition. 

After she was content with the level of detail, and screams subsided to pathetic sobs, she took a step back and, with a hum, looked at Cassandra for a reaction. 

"Oh dearest," the brunette said, looking over the man's shoulder and down at the bloody cuts on his abdomen and chest, forming a crude yet not unfitting replica of the Dimitrescu crest. 

At the adoration that made its way past the cruelty in her wife's eyes, Nicole smiled and gingerly took a hold of her unoccupied hand, bringing it close to her lips and leaving a small kiss and a barely visible blood imprint on each knuckle. 

"I take it that you approve of my… design choice," she asked with another glance down at the jagged lines that formed their family's symbol. 

"It's wonderful," Cassandra replied, fangs shimmering slightly in the low light, exposed from the proud smile that tugged at her lips. 

A gorgeous smile, really, that made something swell inside Nicole's chest no matter how many times she saw it. Truth be told, her rendition of the crest was quite lacking, never having had the artistic skills to quite capture the intricate details that formed it. Nevertheless, if it brought a smile to her wife's lips, she was more than content with it. How unfortunate that it had to be ruined. 

She let out a sigh, still holding Cassandra's hand. "Too bad those pigs at the BSAA would quite disapprove of us leaving such things behind. Oh well," she shrugged, bringing the hand she was holding over to the man's abdomen. "Better it be ruined at your hands." 

The next second, claws dug deep into flesh, slicing the muscle and everything underneath all the way up to the throat. It left five deep gashes over the fine cuts of her dagger, but the satisfaction did not dwindle. On the contrary, when the gurgling sounds finally stopped and the body went limp, her smile was still there, turning into light laughter when Cassandra licked her fingers only to visibly cringe. 

"Say what you will about the dungeons, but at least we feed our livestock well," she spat, taking out a napkin from a pocket and wiping her fingers clean. "But with that disgusting thing out of the way, let me help you with that," she continued, grimace morphing into a sly smile when her eyes landed on Nicole's still bloody neck. 

She gave her no time to disagree, not that she would, before she pushed her backwards slightly into the edge of a table. Nicole wasted no time in lifting herself up on the wooden surface, bringing their faces just a tad closer to being on the same level. 

Cassandra dipped her head down, lips leaving teasing feather-like kisses on her jaw before lowering even further so she could drag her tongue up the length of her neck. It made a shiver run down Nicole's spine, that turned into an impatient tug of her wife's hair when the motion was repeated again and again, until no traces of blood could be seen on her neck, save for the crimson stains that made their way to the hem of her shirt. 

Their lips met in a hungry kiss, full of fangs and smeared lipstick and the taste of copper so familiar to the both of them, albeit for different reasons. When Nicole's hands went to the first buttons of Cassandra's blouse, their kiss was broken with a sly smirk. 

"This is such a dreadful place for such things, don't you think," the brunette said, all too amused by her wife's exasperated sigh. 

"You started it," Nicole complained, but before the words were fully out of her mouth, she was tugged off the table and on the way out, ready to get back home and have a laugh about the irony of her capture. They would have to pick up where they left off at a later time.