#i know that i did that vampire drawing a few days ago but i feel like. overall ive been lacking in content?? idk if any of you care but

[garygoldenbignaturals]

average prince-fledgling sitting arrangement

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Mention of periods (don't worry, we're not doing Saltburn), smutty behaviour, use of toys. More sickening cuteness. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5k

A/N : It's not exactly a cliffhanger but I get the feeling people won't like where it ends... Oh also spoilers for Jane Eyre (but it's 170 years old so I'm assuming people know the twist?)

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eight

The gentle touch of his fingers on your cheek woke you and, for a few seconds, you weren’t sure where you were. Billy was crouched in front of you, smiling softly. Your eyes threatened to close again, feeling exhausted and like all of it was just a dream.

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his fingers still tenderly caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?”

Finally, you managed to wake yourself up enough to realise that you weren’t dreaming, and that you’d fallen asleep on the sofa beneath the yellow blanket Billy had bought for you.

“I’m fine, just tired,” you told him, slowly sitting up.

Billy remained crouched in front of you, tenderly cupping your cheek and looking almost concerned.

“Did you draw too much blood again?”

“No, it's not that. I did that hours ago. I'm just really tired.”

“Just tired?” He pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“And my head hurts a little.”

“When is, uh -” he hesitated, almost looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, “- when is your next period due?”

Your cheeks warmed with both the realisation and the fact that Billy had figured it out before you. That was why you felt so awful. “Soon, I think? I-I lost track of the days after I moved in,” you explained, “and I've never been very, uh… regular…”

Thankfully, Billy just nodded and sat himself beside you, an arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Do you need to go lay down?”

“No I - I want to spend time with you,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We didn't really get to finish talking last night…”

“Was there something else you wanted to say or ask?” Billy asked softly, shifting a little so you could get comfortable against him. 

You stayed silent for a few moments, thinking over all of the things you wanted to ask, wondering what you had the right to ask. “What causes it? What makes you feel like everything is... too much? I’ve only ever seen a vampire lose control from hunger...”

“Sometimes it’s hunger,” he offered reluctantly, “other times it’s just... I don’t know. Even before I was turned, I was never any good at controlling my emotions. And, now, I feel like I’m constantly fighting myself. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m drowning. Everything about you; your scent, the taste of your blood, the way your heart races... it’s a lot to try and ignore.”

Although the words were spoken to you, about you, you knew better than to read too much into them. It was the constant proximity, he probably felt that way around any human after enough time. It wasn’t because he felt anything for you.

“That sounds exhausting.” 

“It is,” he admitted, waiting for a beat before asking; “why did you apologise? I lost control but you apologised.”

“Because I -” you stopped yourself before the lie managed to leave your lips. It hadn’t been your fault, as difficult as it was for you to accept that fact, you knew it was true. “Because I’ve always been made to feel like it’s my fault when bad things happen to me. The night we met, you asked me what I was running from, and that’s part of it; I was raised to feel ashamed and believe I deserved everything bad that happened to me.”

You heard him inhale sharply before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was silent a moment before speaking again.

“Who left you?” He asked softly. You lifted your head, frowning. “Last night when you asked why I was leaving you it just… you sounded hurt, like someone had left you before…”

“My sister,” you answered, “she left home when she was eighteen and my parents disowned her because of it. She said she'd come back for me, but she never did.”

“Why did she leave?”

“My parents wanted her to marry a guy she didn’t want to marry.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked and immediately seemed to regret it when your gaze dropped. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

A moment later, you snuggled back into his side and closed your eyes. “How long until you have to go to work?”

“I can stay another twenty minutes,” he told you softly, slipping his arm around you. He was silent for a few minutes, before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m not going to be able to see you for a few days, it’s not safe for me to be around you while you’re...”

He didn’t have to say it for you to understand and, as much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to try and force the issue. Now that you had some idea of how he felt and how much of a struggle it was for him to be around you sometimes, you knew Billy needed space.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You stayed that way for another twenty-five minutes until you gently reminded Billy that he was going to be late for work. He didn’t seem to want to leave you and it made your heart ache to think about why that might be. Though, rationally, you understood that it wasn’t you; he was just tired. You were finally starting to understand just how difficult and exhausting it was for him just to get through a day.

He gave you a soft kiss and told you that he’d see you again soon.

The next morning when you woke up cramping and feeling terrible, until you found that he’d left a gift basket in your kitchen, filled with things you might need over the coming days; painkillers, chocolates, a new smart-watch with a cycle tracking app, a heating-pad, various toiletries and a large teddy bear with a note pinned to his chest.

I thought you and Bill the Beagle might want some company.

Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.

B.

Butterflies filled your stomach at the thoughtfulness of the gifts and, later that afternoon, when you left blood for him, you couldn’t resist leaving him a note of your own.

Thank you for your considerate gifts. William the Bear is a wonderful addition to my growing stuffie collection and the chocolates were lovely. Hope you have a good night at work.

xoxo

The next day you felt even worse but, again, you were pleasantly surprised when you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen to get breakfast and some coffee. There was another box of chocolates and another note waiting for you.

William is a terrible name for a bear. I didn’t expect you to get through the chocolates so quickly, remind me to stock up next month. I hope you’ve not been watching Black Sails without me.

Take care

B.

And, of course - of course - you had to reply, leaving your note with his blood again.

I happen to like the name William. I think it suits him. He looks like a William. I hope you’re not trying to shame me for enjoying the chocolates, truffles and caramels are my weakness. Don’t worry, I’ve not been watching anything without you, I’ve been reading. You were right, Jane Eyre was a very apt choice.

xoxo

His notes became your reason to get up in the morning, though they were a bittersweet reminder of his noticeable absence in your life. It filled you with a strange yearning and an uncomfortable sadness to think about him out there on his own. But that was a silly thought. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of the penthouse, about his work or his friends, maybe he wasn’t even noticing your absence.

(Or maybe he felt it just as much as you did.)

Okay, I have to ask; what does a William look like? Of course I’d never shame you for enjoying the chocolates, but now you’ve told me your weakness I might have to use it to my advantage. I hope you’re enjoying Jane Eyre more than you enjoyed Dorian Gray.

I hope you’re not feeling too bad. I miss our talks.

B.

Your heart stuttered as you read and reread those four little words; I miss our talks. He missed you. Maybe not quite in the same way that you were missing him but, still, it made you long for him even more.

Well, in my experience Williams tend to be cute and cuddly, even though they look a little dark and brooding at first glance. Oh no! Please don’t use my weakness for chocolate truffles against me!!! (The extra exclamation marks are so you read that in a sarcastic tone.) Yes, I think I like Jane Eyre more than Dorian Gray - Mr Rochester kind of reminds me of you.

I’m feeling a bit better today, I should be fine in a couple of days. I miss spending time with you too. I hope you’re not too lonely without me around.

xoxo

You doodled a little picture of the teddy bear he’d given you on the corner of the note but gave him a grumpy looking face and a tag that read ‘my name is William’. 

There was a strange feeling of embarrassment when you left the note and you almost changed your mind about it halfway back to your room, and you spent the rest of the evening wondering if it was a little too much.

So, the next morning, you felt a little reluctant to go into the kitchen, and had to take a deep breath before reading his note.

Dark and brooding?? I think you might have to elaborate, but I’ll let you save that for when I see you next. I hope that there will come a point in the book where Mr Rochester doesn’t remind you of me quite so much (I don’t know where you’re up to and I don’t want to spoil it).

I’m glad you’re feeling better. The penthouse isn’t the same without you. It’s strange, you’ve only been here a couple of months yet and it already feels empty without you. I miss you.

B.

P.S. Is the doodle supposed to be me or the stuffie?

It felt like your head was spinning as you read, reread, and read again. 

He missed you.

Billy missed you.

You spent half the day writing and rewriting your note to him, in one attempt confessing your feelings, in another acting completely blaise about his confession. Nothing you came up with felt right but the thought of not replying seemed worse.

I see what you mean about Mr Rochester... though I don’t know if I can completely rule out the possibility of you having a strange woman tucked away somewhere in the penthouse. It would certainly explain where all of the chocolates have been going.

I miss you too. I know what you mean, I feel the same way, like I’ve been here longer. But I suppose that’s how things feel when you get close to someone. Hope to see you tomorrow.

xoxo

P.S. I’ll never tell. An artist never reveals her secrets.

There was no end to your relief the next morning when you woke up finally feeling better, knowing that you’d be able to see Billy again. Part of you expected not to find a note, but there it was, waiting for you on your kitchen table, just like the others had been.

I can think of a less mysterious explanation for the disappearance of your chocolates, little hummingbird.

I’m not used to missing people. I’m not used to being close to them either. Some days I feel like my whole life has turned upside down since I met you. I can’t wait to see you again.

B.

P.S. I think it’s magicians that never reveal their secrets, not artists.

Again, he left you searching for deeper meaning in every word, your heart aching for a man who seemed so lonely and alone, a man who didn’t deserve that life at all.

After breakfast you showered and washed your hair, wanting to look your best when you saw him again.

Slowly but surely, over the course of the day, your nerves started to eat away at you; what were you going to say to him? Were you going to pretend that the notes hadn’t happened and that their contents was just idle talk to help the other feel less alone?

You couldn’t sit still as you waited, counting down the hours before sunset, perched on the edge of the sofa and watching his door. The moment it started to open, you were on your feet.

Before he had the chance to even realise that you were there, you’d cleared the distance between you, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. Billy let out a breath but, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or simply because you were squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Hey,” he muttered, his arm slipping around you and holding you almost as tight as you were holding him.

A minute or two passed, neither of you moving or saying anything, until he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and your grip on him started to loosen. You didn’t pull away, but gave yourself enough space to look up at him, smiling shyly as your cheeks started to warm.

“Hi.”

“Hi, hummingbird.”

Neither of you seemed to know what to do or where you were supposed to go from there so, again, you both fell silent, still holding each other. Finally, you dared to reach for him, placing your hand on his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch, and butterflies began to swarm in your stomach. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft, chaste kiss, nothing at all compared to some of the kisses that you’d shared, but you felt his lips pull into a smile against yours before his eyes finally opened again.

“I missed you,” he admitted in little more than a whisper. 

His hand moved to rest on your neck and you found yourself glad of his cold touch after what seemed like so long without it.

“I missed you too,” you confessed, “I - I missed you more than I probably should have.”

If Billy understood what you were trying to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shook his head and smiled before kissing you again.

You sank against him letting him deepen the kiss and turn it into something else, something new. Normally when he kissed you it felt explosive and desperate, like he was laying claim to you, but this kiss was tender and filled with longing, like he was savouring being with you again. It stole the breath from your lungs.

“I missed you,” he muttered again.

“You already said that.”

“I know, I just -” his head shook, and he let out a huffed laugh, “- this has felt like one of the longest weeks of my life.”

“Have you been okay? Was it -” you hesitated, not sure you wanted to ask the question, “- was it easier without me around?”

Billy pulled back a little, frowning. “Why would it be easier?”

“The other night, you said you feel like you’re drowning when you’re with me,” you shrugged a little, letting your gaze drop for a moment.  

Before the notes, you’d assumed that everyone made him feel that way, that it was just part of being a vampire for him. But, now, after his last note and after that kiss, part of you longed for him to admit that it was more, that it was you, that he felt something for you, that he cared.

“I was wrong,” he told you, waiting until you looked up again to continue, “I feel like I’m drowning without you.” 

“Oh.” Whatever you’d expected, it hadn’t been that.

“It’s a lot. I know it’s a lot -” 

“No,” you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”

“I wish I could’ve met you in another life. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

The words caused your chest to ache, understand what he was saying and why because you felt the same way; the situation was a mess and all either of you could do was make the best of it.

There was more you could say - more you wanted to say - but it didn’t feel like the right time, and it wasn’t fair for you to try and push anything when you had every intention of leaving him once you’d finished your year. So, instead, you pressed yourself against him and hugged him tight.

Once you’d managed to pull away from each other, you spent the next hour sitting with him on the sofa, talking while he drank, trading gentle touches and kisses until he needed to leave. You followed him to the elevator, not sure if he was keeping hold of your hand or if it was the other way around. 

It took a couple of weeks for things to start to return to some sort of normal between you.

Karen noticed the first time she saw you, mentioning that you seemed distracted as you walked through Central Park together (thankfully with no sign of Madani in sight), but she didn’t bring it up until you were sitting together a week later, having lunch in a little coffee shop.

“Is everything alright with you and Billy?” She asked, deciding to just go for it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you answered. And it was fine. You were happy. You just could stop thinking about what he’d said to you and how you wished that things could be just a little bit different so you could both be happy.

“I know Billy’s my friend and you don’t really know me all that well, but you can talk to me if something’s bothering you. Or if he’s done something to bother you.”

There was something in her voice, something knowing that you really didn’t like. But how could she know what was going on with you and Billy, when you didn’t even know yourself?

“Everything’s fine, honestly. It’s great, actually. We’ve been really getting on lately; we’ve been hanging out talking about books and I’ve been making him watch Black Sail on Netflix,” you told her.

Karen nodded, though it didn’t look like she believed you, but she let it drop, leaving you with the sneaking suspicion that she knew a little more about the way Billy was than she wanted to let on.

Your quiet evenings with Billy slowly started to become a little more physical again, though neither of you seemed in a rush to try and push for sex again. Instead, most evenings he’d end up with his head between your thighs, or you’d slip your hand into his pants while you made out. And, even though you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to push him. No, you wanted to take things slowly, wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed again before you took that next step.

Time seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long before the whole penthouse was being turned upside down in anticipation of Billy’s big party; live music, caterers, decorators and, of course, more blood than you felt comfortable seeing in one place. The whole place was transformed over the course of three days and, when the night finally came, you felt almost sick with nerves.

Even Billy had a strange energy about him, checking and double checking every little thing, including a security team from his company whose presence he seemed reluctant to explain to you. You watched from the sofa as he led them around the apartment, explaining where he wanted them and which areas of the penthouse were off-limits. He introduced you to one of them, a human man called Curtis who would be spending the night near the door to your quarters if you needed any help during the night (and, again, Billy didn’t explain what that meant).

A couple of hours before the guests were due to arrive, you went to shower and draw blood before doing your hair and makeup, and getting changed into your dress and shoes. For a few minutes you found yourself staring at your reflection, hoping to find some of the confidence you’d had that night in the dressing room with Billy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, it only took a moment for his eyes to find you, his jaw threatening to drop as he took in the sight of you. His appearance had the same effect on you; his well tailored tux had you biting your lip.

“Wow, Russo, you really know how to pick them,” Curtis called across the penthouse, earning himself a withering look from Billy and causing your cheeks to heat.

Billy made his way towards you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were taking in every inch of you. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your hip and kissed your cheek.

“I got you a present,” he told you, using his hand to start guiding you towards the library, pausing momentarily to tell Curtis and his team that they could go take a break before the party started.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you into the library and towards the seldom used desk by the window. Waiting for you were three boxes, each beautifully wrapped in silver paper and tied with black ribbon. Without thought, you found yourself gripping Billy’s arm as your legs threatened to turn to jello beneath you.

He smiled softly, picking up the first box and handing it to you.

“Open it,” he instructed, managing to sound as excited as you felt about this whole exchange.

It felt wrong to destroy the immaculate wrapping, so you took your time, carefully untying the ribbon and peeling open the paper to get at the box. You removed the lid and there, in amongst black tissue paper was an ornate black and silver mask.

“It’s for the party tonight,” he told you when you looked at him for clarification, “we wear the masks until midnight and then take them off. It’s supposed to symbolise vampires being seen by society, but really it’s just an excuse to have fun while no one knows who you are.”

You laughed, head shaking. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

But he didn’t give you time to linger, gently taking the box and mask from your hand before offering you the next present, seeming to get more eager with each passing second. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Your breath caught as you opened the second box. It was a beautiful choker style necklace with diamanté detailing - at least, you assumed that it was diamanté because you couldn’t even start to imagine how much it would have cost if they were real diamonds. For a few seconds you were lost for words.

“Here, let me,” he offered, pulling the necklace from the box before you even had the chance to answer him. Billy stepped behind you, gently draping it around your neck and fastening it for you.

Your fingers immediately reached up to touch it; it felt a little heavy around your neck and you’d never had a choker style necklace before, but the feel of it would be a constant reminder of Billy and you loved that. 

“Thank you, Billy,” you finally managed, turning and wrapping your arms around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“There’s one more.” He reached for the last present but seemed a little more reluctant to hand it to you. 

And once you’d opened it, you understood why.

“Oh...” said somewhere between shock and confusion. 

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, especially not after the mask and the choker, but a new sex toy certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks heated as you looked at the box, trying to make sense of it, the words discreet and remote play only confused you more.

“I want you to wear this for the party,” he told you, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “if you want to, I mean. If it’s too much, I get it. I just - I thought we could have some fun. And there’s going to be so many people, I guess I want to know you’ll spend the night thinking about me...”

Your cheeks continued to burn, part horrified by the notion, but a much larger part couldn’t help but find the idea interesting, arousing even. And, after everything that had happened between you, part of you was still longing for more.

“You want me to spend the night thinking about you?” You asked quietly.

“More than anything,” he answered in little more than a whisper, like he knew it was something he shouldn’t say.

It felt like your heart leapt into your throat for a few seconds and you struggled to swallow around it. All you could think about was that night a couple of weeks ago, how he told you it felt like he was drowning when he wasn’t with you, and you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. (You didn’t want to say no to him.)

“Okay,” you finally answered, “how do I...?”

“Let me,” he offered, perhaps a little too eagerly, taking the box from your hand, muttering something about how he’d cleaned it and charged it ready before wrapping it.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled the purple silicone toy out of the box, knowing that he could hear your heart pounding. Then he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips and enjoying you for a few moments. When he pulled back he began to trace your lips with the tip of the toy before slipping it into your mouth, causing your cheeks to burn hotter.

You watched him suck his fingers, leaving them glistening with saliva before dropping to his knees and slipping them beneath your dress and into your panties. His free hand nudged your knee and you parted your trembling legs a little further while his fingers stirred between your folds, wetting you before slowly slipping into you.

You moaned softly as his fingers slowly started to pump inside you, twisting and bending, easily finding that special spot. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, feeling like your legs were going to give out. Another soft moan escaped you when he looked up at you, holding your gaze as his fingers filled you, over and over. You clenched around him as he licked his lips, knowing that he was imagining the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“You can come whenever you need to,” he told you, smiling up at you like he was in awe of you.

“Billy...” you moaned, your voice muffled by the toy in your mouth, hating how close you were to falling apart.

Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers again, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t hold onto him or make him slow. There was something about all of this that seemed so obscene, so dirty, and it just made you want it ever more. His fingers hit that sweet spot one more time and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs started to tremble and your thighs pressed together, trying to keep his fingers inside you.

And, all the while, Billy smiled up at you.

A needy whine slipped out when he pulled away his hand, but you soon fell silent when he took the toy from your mouth. Your eyes fixed on the bookshelf behind Billy as he inserted the toy, suddenly feeling embarrassed despite everything you’d just let him do. Once he was done, he straightened your panties and made sure your dress was perfect.

Shifting your weight between your legs, you tried to get used to the feeling of the toy while Billy stood up and took out his phone.

“Let’s give it a little test,” he said with an almost mischievous grin on his lips that caused you thighs to clench. Something told you he was going to enjoy this. A lot.

A sudden whimper was pulled from you as the toy started to vibrate.

Billy’s grin grew as his finger swiped on his phone, causing the vibrations to intensify. As good as it felt, a mixture of shame and concern threatened to ruin the moment.

“What?” Billy asked, stopping the vibrations the moment he noticed your discomfort. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” you answered shyly, a little embarrassed by just how much you wanted to, “It’s just... what if someone realises?”

He offered a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek. 

“They won’t,” he told you with confidence. “It’ll be too noisy for anyone to hear it, and you’ll be good; you won’t come until we’re alone together and I give you permission.”

His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips and wiping away any misgivings you might have had. You wanted to do this. You wanted to give Billy the comfort of knowing that you were thinking about him all night. And you wanted to do it for yourself too. You’d wanted to have new experiences and this was definitely new for you.

“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, “let’s go have a glass of wine and wait for the guests to arrive. It’s going to be a long night...”

Chapter Nine

End Note : So, originally, this chapter and the party were going all be one chapter, but then I got carried away with the cute notes between reader and Billy. That means next week will be a whole chapter of party shenanigans.

As always, thanks for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging, hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky

@goldenbeskar @mydarlingnana

[vickyvicarious]

OKAY, SO. Today's episode is one I've been looking forward to, and it definitely lived up to expectations. I absolutely adored how you can hear Jonathan at the end of his rope, all restraint fraying away. The rage in his voice when he wishes for a weapon "that I might destroy him" - not even 'kill', but 'destroy'. Partially that may be that he realizes Dracula is already 'dead', but even so that is some evocative violent word choice!

Speaking of Dracula, what an incredible performance today. I absolutely loved so many line deliveries. Something about his voice a little softer as he says "my carriage shall come for you," even though it's obviously a lie. Jonathan absolutely cannot stand his lies any longer - the way he spits out "Phh, sincerity!" is amazing. His voice as he's asking to go is so intense, so sharp and insistent but also pleading all the while, you can hear the anger and the fear. But Dracula is return is just so smooth, really really gets across that charm Jonathan is so suspicious of today. Soft, smooth, diabolical. The way Dracula stops to laugh after saying, "speed the parting guest, eh?" SO EVIL OF HIM. And the way he fuckin' mocks everything Jonathan has been through for the past two months, mocks the game he has forced him to play all this time, when he says "sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire it." The sarcasm in those two words is astounding. I WANNA PUNCH HIM IN HIS STUPID EVIL FACE. Incredible. Absolutely top-tier performance.

The SFX were so good too, I absolutely loved how long the chains and such at the door went on, really drawing home how securely it has been shut all this time. And it gets even better because the length of it repeating as Dracula shuts the door again feels so final. Not to mention the wolves: I was loving the snarl of a few of them as Jonathan says they got angrier. The way Jonathan lingered/emphasized just slightly on "their red jaws" - similar to, but not as much as he did for Dracula and the vampire ladies, just enough to really cement the parallel but also show their fear doesn't come with the same kind of fascination.

And Jonathan realizes he will die here. He is too afraid to willingly walk into it. He feels so utterly defeated by this realization; he'd thought he was ready. He'd thought he had nothing left to lose, has already risked death in his last exploration, knows he does not want to allow Dracula and the vampire ladies to kill him at any cost, but... when faced with this certain death (which he witnessed only a few days ago) he can't do it. And it feels like a moral defeat as much as, more than any disappointment at a failed escape. He is absolutely miserable and you can hear it so well in his voice. He literally has to hide his face. He cannot bear to speak to Dracula again, just accepts the escort back to his room in miserable silence. It's agonizing.

And then Dracula smiles, and kisses his hand to Jonathan.

The defeat is so complete and so horrible. And then salt is ground into the wound with the conversation Jonathan overhears outside his doorway. The laughter. All four of them laughing at him. It's an almost childishly blatant type of cruelty for the vampire women to stick around until he sees them and then continue to laugh right in his face before running away - they can vanish into dust! They are choosing to scamper off like this because it feels more fun to them! It's awful and the voice acting is absolutely marvelous.

[toscrollperchancetomeme]

Is there a life after IwtV Season 2?

So, Interview with the Vampire Season 2 is over, you have already rewatched it a dozen times and don’t know what to do with yourself?

Here’s a list of suggestions!

Read the books

I might be biased because I have been a fan since the early 2000s, but they are genuinely worth a read. A lot of people struggle especially with the first book, which I understand – but you can absolutely skip it and start right away with The Vampire Lestat! Especially The Vampire Lestat and Queen of the Damned are a great read and they are what is coming up next in the show. A lot of the plot of QotD happens at the same time as The Vampire Lestat, so I expect that material from both books will come up in the next season.

If you have a brain that enjoys audio books, they are actually available for free on youtube (though the narrator pronounces Louis’ name wrong). The version on the commercial audio book platforms read by Simon Vance is better though, if that’s an option for you. :)

The books after that are very much a mixed bag, but they all have some great and some downright crazy stuff in them, because Anne Rice’s writing was pretty unhinged at times. It’s a ride, but imho one worth taking.

Watch reaction videos on YouTube

I think I have by now watched all reactions that are available. For me it really brings a lot of joy to relive the experience of a first-time watch by proxy. Some are frustrating because people talk over important dialogue, some hold genuine galaxy brain moments by people who know nothing of the material. I will not recommend anyone, because vibes vary for everyone, but I’m sure there’s a reactor out there that YOU will vibe with.

Watch other shows/movies with the actors

Did you know that “Talk Radio”, written by and starring Eric Bogosian is available in full on youtube? I haven’t watched it yet, but I hear it’s really good.

For Sam Reid, I can’t recommend “Lambs of God” highly enough, and I hear great things about The Newsreader, which I sadly can’t get my hands on at the moment. “Belle” is also a beautiful movie, but his part is rather small as far as I remember.

Then of course there’s Hotel Portofino for Assad (but I’m not yet that desperate).

I actually haven’t watched anything with Jacob Anderson except Game of Thrones, which I will NOT rewatch, so I’m happy for suggestions there!

Watch the movies that have been namedropped by Rolin Jones

Hedwig and the Angry Inch – a phenomenal movie and stage show in its own right. It’s fun, it’s beautiful, it’s queer as fuck, the music is excellent and it’s an absolute must-watch.

Rocky Horror Picture Show – honestly, if you have never seen this movie, what are you waiting for?

The Dirt – Rolin Jones has mentioned the book, but there was actually a pretty decent movie made about Mötley Crüe a few years ago, that I really enjoyed.

Also, I have seen Amadeus mentioned several times, I’m not sure if that came up in an interview but it’s an excellent movie and the parallels to the relationship between Lestat and Armand are definitely there.

Honorary mention: Fight Club, not because anyone has mentioned it but… the parallels warrant an essay that I might one day have to write. (Themes: Queerness of male on male violence, imaginary boyfriends, idealization of toxic masculinity)

Read the books from Rolin Jones' reading list

I have now spent 10 minutes googling for that interview where he lists the books he’s reading for Season 3, but can’t find it. Someone please drop it in the comments?

Learn French

Want to feel closer to your favorite actors? Why not go through the same hell as them and get bullied by the Duolingo owl while at it? ❤

Discord servers

I’m not active there right now, but I have found several fandom servers that seem like great communities.

Read Fanfic

Honestly the reason this is down here is because it’s so obvious. :)

Get creative

Write fanfic, draw fan art, roleplay, edit videos, make unhinged memes!

And always: Support the content creators!

Everytime I scroll the tag I see new creators entering the fandom and let me tell you, after almost 20 years of drought, I am overjoyed. Same goes for fic writers, youtube reactors and reviewers! Leave them a like, a comment or whatever is available on the platform they are using.

Edit:

Watch the musical!

I completely forgot! There’s a Lestat musical by Elton John. Yes, you read that right. This lovely YouTube account has full bootlegs for you to enjoy some camp broadway fun!

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

geto vers | baji vers

synopsis: when your husband and best friend are targeted by a hitman, the aftermath leaves you in shock. but suguru has always instilled one line into you: forever has no meaning unless you're in it.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!suguru, vampire!choso, vampire!satoru, hitman!toji, character death ( + resurrection), depictions of blood and violence, almost blind devotion, a bit angsty but also fluffy.. but also not really? idk what to tag this as LOL, canon divergent (gojo n geto are attacked much later in life), you have no clue they’re sorcerers 👍, swearing, sfw, if choso is ooc im so sorry idk barely anything about/cldnt get a read on his character from one episode djknj

ft + wc: vampire!suguru x reader, 3.2k

tags: @enchantedforest-network, @em1e (u guys should totally read em's necromancy fic btw)

a/n: hi! idk wtf this is, this is just how i deal with chara death i think? this idea came to me when i realized i was writing two fics about dealing with grief (baji fans are u here ?) and wrote nearly 2k for both in one sitting haha. anyways, i feel like atp i'm edda from ffxiv coded except suguru is 1000x better than avere. if you'd like to listen to her theme, it's here. thank u to wallaby for proofreading!

there is something about the morning light, filtered through the white blinds that you’ve forgotten so many times to replace, that feels just like a hug. it’s this light that kisses your eyelids and pulls you out of bed faster than your mother on a school morning. 

you’ll yawn, then stretch, pulling your arms up and over your head arching your back as you do. then you’ll get up, set up a pot of coffee before heading off to brush your teeth and wash your face. and you’ll pretend that you don’t see the eyes, red and shimmering, from the shadows in your closet.  

“go to bed suguru,” you sigh, before lightly pressing onto your puncture marks, hissing when they’re still tender. “it’s morning.” 

“i could fix that… if you’d let me.” he responds, the hinges of your door creaking ever so slightly before you gasp and rush to close them before the light bleeds in. 

“don’t!” you snap, hand trembling, “don’t… you dare.” 

you crouch down, before slotting your pinky into the smallest slit you can with the door still providing adequate coverage. before long, his cold finger entangles with yours and you smile. 

“by the way babe, when are we moving?” he jokes and when your eyes finally adjust to the dark, you can see him stretch his limbs, hands entangling with your hanging clothing. “it’s pretty cramped in here not gonna lie.” 

“well… i put in that application a few weeks ago and they did get back to me… so soon. we just need to go through the final steps.” you reply, fighting the urge to crawl into that small space with him and sleep the day off. 

when it comes to suguru, you’d do anything and everything, from the hairs on your head to the tips of your toes, you pledged yourself to him fully. 

“gonna go to work?” he asks and you nod, albeit with a pout. he snickers when he sees your expression, “aw, don’t cry. i’ll be right here.” 

you bite your lip, trying your best not to draw blood because you know. you know that suguru will always be right there, whenever you need him. 

you made sure of it. 

-

his name was choso. you remember the night you met him after a round of drinks at the bar. he was nice, if not a bit quiet, and loved to talk about his siblings. suguru and satoru talked aimlessly with shoko while you made new friends. it was a fun little past time. 

you don’t remember how you left the bar or how he even convinced you to follow him out. your mind muggy as you followed him, like a moth to a flame, down a back alley before you finally snapped to your senses and shoved him off before he could make a move. it wasn’t until you saw the razor sharp pearly whites of his teeth that you stopped. 

you asked him what he was, but he simply shrugged, asking, “have you ever dreamt about being saved from someone or something?” 

you nodded, of course you did. everyone has. 

“then that’s me. something you can dream about.”

it was a cryptic message, but a message you got nonetheless. choso was not of the day, flourishing under the midnight sky. but for some reason, he wasn’t necessarily scary. in the small amount of time you had spent, he seemed to listen to you and your woes. gotten to know a little bit of your family history, and perhaps decided you would do better with his. 

you remember hearing suguru’s panic laced voice calling out for you and you spun around to call back out. turning back, choso was gone. with a hand placed on your shoulder you were pulled into a tight embrace. 

“where were you?” suguru asks, nearly crushing you in the heat of his body, “almost lost my mind trying to find you.” he glances behind you, eyes scanning the alleyway in search of something or someone. 

“honestly… i don’t even know how i got out here,” you mumbled into his shoulder, hands trailing the familiar sensation of his clothing. “can we go home?” 

“yeah, i’ll just let gojo-“ 

“no!” you exclaimed, the uneasiness in your stomach now palpable, as you balled your fists into the fabric of his shirt, “let’s go now, please.” 

he blinks, before nodding, “okay, yeah, okay. let’s go home.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, almost like a seal of protection, before he’s throwing his arm around you and walking you home. 

you don’t ever recall meeting toji fushiguro. it was just another night out underneath flickering street lights, outside the same bar where you met choso, the street familiar yet empty. your husband smoked into the evening air, the scent wafting over and tickling your nose. 

“no offense, satoru, but i didn’t listen to a single thing you just said.” he stated, lips curled up into a smirk with the cigarette dangling between his fingers. 

“good,” satoru snorts, before glancing at you, “i wasn’t asking for their opinion anyway.” 

you feign ignorance, perking up and asking, “hm? what were we talking about?” 

“man the two of you are so fucking annoying.” he whines, head hung back as you both laugh. 

“care for a third opinion?” a voice asks and you gasp, jumping back. 

the man was tall, handsome, with dark hair and a scar on his lip, wearing a simple outfit of a tee and sweatpants. he seemed otherworldly as well, just like choso. maybe, it was the aura he exuded, more like the lack of, but it set your hairs up on end. 

suguru was quick to pull you behind him as your fingers instantly grabbed onto his shirt. 

“don’t really care for a stranger’s opinion,” satoru drawls, glancing over the tips of his sunglasses. but you can read his body easily, a culmination of friendship over the years. it was screaming: danger. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that. why don’t we introduce ourselves then? i’m toji.” he said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. but neither satoru nor suguru moved to grab it, instead they tensed, waiting. 

“suguru.” satoru whispered, a command with only one word. he understood exactly what it meant. you don’t remember suguru being able to run so fast, the force from his pull almost knocking the air out of you. nor do you remember satoru being able to fight so efficiently. 

you do remember suguru hiding you away and making you wait, even when you tried to hold onto him, he assured you it’d be fine and made you wait. but seconds ticked into minutes, long, monotonous minutes that made the pit of uneasiness in your stomach bloom into a festering bouquet of chrysanthemums. 

“suguru?” you called, stepping out into the dreary moonlight. no response. 

“satoru?” you tried again, quietly walking back towards the area they were in originally. it’s strange how quickly the night changes, how suddenly the flickering street lights aren’t an annoyance but one of your only sources of comfort, as if the dark can swallow you. 

“suguru,” you call out again, voice teetering on a breakdown and eyes scanning the desolate street.  “please res-“ 

you stop suddenly, the sickening squelch of something warm pooling beneath your feet halts you. you feel sick as you start to take in shallow breaths, eyes following the stream of ichor until it reaches its source.

suguru. 

you remember dragging his lifeless body down that familiar back alley. knowing that anyone would be able to see that trail of blood and find you. the darkness of that alley covered you, looming over you like a guardian, while the scent of trash almost, almost, covered the sharp tinge of iron that permeated the air.  

you propped suguru up against the wall as best you could, your body still thrumming with adrenaline. “just gimme a sec, okay?” you mumbled through tears, knowing that he couldn’t hear you. “i’ll figure it out, just like you always do.” 

you’re not sure why you were compelled to scream out that name, but maybe it was because in your dreams, he appeared when you least expected him too. 

“choso!” you screamed, waiting for a brief moment before you filled your lungs with air once more and tried again. “choso!” 

nothing. 

choso!

still nothing. 

and when nothingness almost consumed you, taking you into it’s ghostly clutches, you felt it: the sudden heaviness in the air. 

you feel like you screamed for hours, the name tumbling off your tongue and into the moonlit air like a siren song. just a little less pretty. in reality, it was probably only a few minutes before the brunette arrived, dark rimmed eyes and all. your new guardian “angel”. 

“he looks pretty bad if you ask me.” he started, already crouching down to your level, before reaching up to brush the red coated strands away from suguru’s face. “looks pretty dead.” 

“fix it.” you whispered, continuing even after choso shot you a look. “fucking fix him.” 

“what makes you think i can do that?” 

and in that moment, you feel compelled to tell him about the dreams that you’ve been having lately. the ones where he’s in them, beckoning you to stay under his protection. call for me and i’ll be there. 

but you keep it simple, too pressed for time. “you’re in my dreams, right?” you answer. 

he’s quiet, face softening as he mulls over your words. “good to know.” his eyes wander over to the crimson trail, that bleeds from the streetlamps to your waiting spot. “he’ll probably find you.” 

“toji?” you ask and he nods, “i don’t even know why he’s after us.” 

“he’s not after you, he’s after him.” he says, cupping suguru’s face, dribbles of blood falling from his mouth, and you twitch, almost reaching out to snatch his hand away, “he’s never liked sorcerers.” 

“sorcery…?” you mumble, glancing once more at your lifeless husband. 

but you’ve never heard that word, believing that magic cannot exist, that what you saw could not be explained so easily. there is no magic, only reality, and what is this but such painful, excruciating reality that sucks the air from your lungs and the color from your eyes.

choso dodges the question, “well then. let’s get out of here.” before he places a palm on the back of your neck, sending you back off to dream. 

there’s a voice that pulls him out of the light. low and drumming, it snaps him back into the present and out of his stupor. he sits up, scrambling to make sense of just where he is and who is talking to him. the bed he’s in is similar to a hospital bed, although the white sheets are now stained red. 

“… stay out of the sunlight, feed only when you’re hungry, animal blood counts, it just doesn’t taste that good,” choso continues listing things off, not taking into the account the shock etched so firmly into suguru’s face. “you can feed on them and if they ever wanna turn, let me know, i’ll teach you how to do it.” 

suguru whips his head around, spotting you sitting in a chair with blood covered and bruised knees, the sweat and tears now dried on your face. you glance up at him, giving a little wave and a tired smile. he notes the dried blood that seems to be caked even under your fingers. 

“what the fuck did you do to them?” 

“you mean, what did i do to you?” the brunette retorts. “you wanted to stay together, right? now you can.” he answers, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk. but suguru’s not sure if he’s asking him or you, the one who smells so much sharper and sweeter than he remembers. you also smell of blood. so much blood that he can hear it coursing through you with each thump of your heartbeat. 

and like a moth to a flame, you stand on wobbly knees, the pads of your feet hitting the floor in sluggish steps as you pad over and throw yourself onto your lover. 

“don’t be mad at me,” you whisper, your eyelids fluttering as you try to fight back your tears. “i thought i could figure things out like you always do… because i always rely on you, right? i was too scared to be alone.” 

he’s so cold now and you’re so unbearably warm, the perfect juxtaposition of your souls. although he doesn’t need to, he takes a deep breath, before pulling you into his embrace. 

“you’re cold, sugu.” you mumble, yet you press harder, deeper into his embrace. 

“is that a turn off?” he jokes because he can’t be mad at you, not now and not ever. and any fragments of anger always dissipate like a puff of smoke. you giggle, before finally giving in and crying, digging your nails into his stiff skin. you cry until you can’t anymore, going limp and falling asleep in his arms. 

suguru’s gaze shifts upwards, as he holds you protectively, one arm wrapped firmly around your lower back, the other on the back of your head, fingers laced in your hair. 

“so, no introductions?” he asks, trying to be friendly, although the intonation in his voice betrays him. it’s first time meeting such a strange man, who can blame him? 

certainly not choso, who responds in turn, “my bad. you can call me choso. i fixed you up on their behalf.” 

“and satoru?” he asks, scanning the room to see if he can find the familiar white tufts of hair. 

“is fine,” choso replies, before jutting a finger out towards you, “they made sure to cover all the bases.” 

suguru shifts you in his hold, pressing a kiss to your forehead, that familiar seal of protection once again placed within your being. but also, as thanks for trying to keep everyone safe.

“then, where is he?” he asks while the other sighs and points over to another bed in the corner. dark eyes follow and the familiar tufts of silver hair peek immediately confirm it’s satoru. 

“he’s gonna wake up soon too. i’ll fill him in on the details.” before suguru can reply he’s cut off, “you should go soon, before the sun rises.” 

“am i actually a vampire?” 

“vampire, dracula, nosferatu, the undead. you can choose whatever you want.” 

“… i see.” he pauses, glancing back at satoru’s sleeping form before deciding he’ll be fine on his own. “we’ll be going then. …thanks.” 

he places his feet on the floor, still wearing his shoes from earlier and starts to walk off, cradling you in his arms. 

“when you feed, geto, don’t overdo it. or they will die.” 

he stops mid-step, gripping you tighter in his embrace, his brow furrowed, before finally walking off. 

you really should’ve taken a photo for satoru of the realtor’s perplexed expression when only you showed up to a three bedroom home, insistent on your need for space. 

when you do get that house, situated so nicely in the countryside, away from the buzz of the city, you think about what life would be like if you changed. if you no longer saw the sunlight. but you shake your head, pressing your fingers up to your neck once more, rubbing over the now scabbing indentations. 

you know suguru can’t feast on you forever as your body ages and his does not. but the thought of him feeding on someone else makes your stomach turn. 

“woow,” satoru hums, breaking you out of your trance as he takes in the new home, “not bad! not bad at all.” 

you smile, “thanks, satoru. i wanted to make sure you had your own space too.” 

“whats the third room for?” he asks, peeking his head in as he saunters around the new home. 

“office space.” you reply, “remember i work from home?” 

he nods, replying, “ooh, makes sense,” before he’s suddenly in front of you. his once crystalline blue eyes, now a deep crimson. “can i get a quick snack? i’m hungry.” 

“always so insatiable, satoru.” you tsk, rolling your eyes, but hold up your wrist anyway.

“not my fault you just so happen to be the best tasting human around.” he says, smiling against the thin skin of your wrist. 

luckily for you, he’s fast, the pain is almost nonexistent beyond the prick of his fangs but you still shut your eyes, waiting for it to be over. and when it’s over, gojo thanks you for the meal with a large bow before leaving to settle in his room. 

it’s so different from suguru who plans out the days that he’ll feed, keeping you in his clutches for what seems like hours as he sips away at your blood, making sure to maximize the experience.

the blood loss always makes you so dizzy, dizzy and pliant. he likes to watch over you afterwards, splayed against the sheets, fingertips running over your veins as if he’s painting over them in hues of ice. 

in your half-conscious state you never notice the furrow of his brow as he contemplates turning you every single time. you won’t last forever, too fragile, too soft, too alive. and suguru believes that forever only exists if you are in it as well. he asks you one night, while the house is almost too still, if you’d stay with him forever. 

“… of course…” you murmur, head dazed and body heavy, “always, sugu.” 

“even if you lose yourself?” 

“i can’t… lose myself if i’m with you.” you smile contently, reaching out to him with one shaky hand. 

“then how would you feel…” he asks, fingertips snaking up the veins of your neck, “if i turned you?” you shiver under his touch, eyelids fluttering not only at the sensation but also the low timbre of his voice. 

“turn me?” you mumble, pressing your hand against his, encouraging him to continue carressing your skin, “like… choso did with you?” 

he grins, albeit a small one and nods. hand now exploring the curves of your face, “just like that.” and while his hand is ice cold, it sears your skin with his touch, a testament to how deeply you’ve fallen. 

you pout, finally relaying your fears, “won’t you feed on others though?” 

“you want me to starve?” he jokes, still running his touch over you. 

“let’s go vegan.” you hum, your consciousness starting to drift until the thrum of his fingers. 

with your eyes closed you don’t catch the expression on his face, but you catch his laugh, drifting down into your ear. “i don’t know if that’s how it works, honey.” 

“animals...” you mumble, breaths becoming deeper with each passing second. “like humans… but diet… is how choso… explained it right?” 

he smiles, letting you fall deep into sleep. he keeps his hand intertwined with yours, knowing that even in dreams you hold onto him as if you were awake. he thinks you look so beautiful in the moonlight, better even than the moon or the stars themselves. 

and he is so sure, that forever cannot exist, if you’re not in it. 

[ruiniel]

Reunion

Fandom: Castlevania Series (2017-2021)

Rating: G

Relationship: Alucard & Lisa & Dracula

Characters: Alucard, Lisa, Dracula

Count: 1.2k

Also on AO3

Additional Tags: Post-Castlevania Season 4, Oneshot, Family, What If, Angst and Feels, I wanted this to happen, Castlevania References, He might not forgive them at once but... the moment

AN: Wrote this years ago after season IV ended.

The night was ripe with fragrant spring, and the forest shivered sleepily under a mild wind come from across the mountains.

Alucard rose to his feet, standing upon a high vantage point on the castle battlements overlooking the town of Belmont. He closed his eyes as a gust of fresh, pine-scented air breezed over his skin. When he opened them, the stranger was still there. 

Many years had passed, and the community surrounding the castle thrived, having faced few to no drawbacks or subsequent attacks. The village in time grew and prospered in trade and owed to the knowledge in the Vault and the castle, soon evolved into a town of repute, frequented by scholars and seekers of knowledge from across the land and beyond.

And now, this foreign presence had been lurking about its streets ever since evening settled, and even from this distance and height, Alucard could discern its nature.

Vampire. He followed the cloaked figure with his gaze as it slowly took the road leading to the castle.

The scent was unmistakable, familiar to one having lived and reached maturity among them — his people, half of his legacy. At first, he’d fretted and thought to act before the newcomer attacked anyone, but from his observation thus far, this was not a prowl in search of victims, a hunt for sustenance. Perhaps this vampire was a stray, seeking the castle for whatever shadowed reason, in memory of days past. Perhaps they were simply insane, who could know?

He would not wait to find out. Alucard took flight, and in a long, graceful leap, landed on his feet before the castle gates just as the stranger reached them.

He looked ahead, but the vampire neared on slow, determined steps. The traveler was tall and strong if his initial assessment was anything to go by. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword; long ago, he’d made a promise: no one and nothing could ever ruin their peace or endanger the community they had all toiled to build and grow.

The vampire came closer, but try as he did, Alucard could not discern the features hidden beneath his hood. “I’d stop where you are if I were you,” he warned, standing before the stairs of the castle and drawing his sword with a sharp hiss of steel.

The stranger appeared to take heed, for he stilled a few paces away. 

“Find prey elsewhere,” Alucard continued, his tone cold as a winter’s day. “Leave this place now; or I'll be forced to make you.” The light of the moon sang on his long blade.

The other remained silent, made no move to reveal himself or retrace his steps.

Tiresome, Alucard thought, but two could play this game. He was patient, would not attack first. At the first sign of foul play, however, his sword would slash through the other’s chest. “Very well, we can stand here all night, if you like. I’m in no particular hurry.”

The stranger lowered his head. If Alucard did not know any better, he’d say the vampire was smiling beneath that hood.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” 

The words were soft but struck lightning through the core of his being. Slowly, the vampire lifted his hands and drew back his hood, revealing his face. 

Alucard gasped, and for the first time in his life, the sword dropped from his hand, clattering uselessly on the stone-covered ground. His heart burst in his ears, and he watched the specter before him with widening, fearful eyes.

He’d lost his voice, and thoughts refused to form, but somehow Alucard spoke. A single choked word struggled to his lips, the echo of a buried loss. “F- father?”

“Son.”

Alucard blinked away the surging flare of emotion and tears brimming and blurring his sight. This was not reality. It was some spell, a glamor meant to weaken his defence — a chimera; it had to be. It had to…

Anger swelled within him at the poorly played scheme. His palm splayed as the sword sprang back in his hand, cold in his grip. “You’re not him,” he threw, and lunged forward.

He struck with all his might, but with awe and a new sense of gutting terror, Alucard saw the tip of his blade had been caught between two long, clawed fingers, held easily as though it were a flower stalk. Close as they were, he ground his teeth and stared into the vampire’s eyes. It all flooded him, grief and guilt filled him with the memory of talons raking through his chest, of a stake crushing flesh and bone. He quailed before the sight of those all too familiar features, the crimson light in that deep gaze, the scent he now knew, deep in his marrow. Still, he pushed harder, would not yield—

“Adrian?”

The call of his name snapped him out of his fury; blinking rapidly, Alucard peered beyond the vampire’s shoulder.

She stood there, tall and cloaked, her hands worrying at her chest, with moonlight shining on her silver-streaked hair. The last time Alucard had heard her voice, the last time…

“Are we alive?!”

He glanced back at the vision of his father, still standing there quietly, peacefully. As if burnt, he retreated, gaping at them both. “What… what is this?”

The woman neared, and though his mind refused to work and grasp what was before him, his heart raged and his throat seized at the care in her eyes; her eyes. Alucard barely noticed that he sank to his knees as recollection slashed through him until, unable to look anymore, he brought his head in his hands, falling forward. “This is not happening. You are not real, either of you… please, leave me be… please…”

She rushed forward and knelt before his curled form, her arms winding around him.

Alucard stared emptily at the ground, but without thought, his forehead rested on her shoulder, and all he could do was shiver. His shoulders shook. “How…?” he asked, over and over, “How?...” 

Gently, Lisa took his face in her palms, and they stared at each other for a long time. “My boy… my beautiful, beautiful boy,” she murmured, her blue eyes glistening, her own voice lower, hoarser than he remembered.

Heart bursting and thoughts muddled, Alucard crumpled at the sound of her words, the sight of her face. She looked to be past her prime in appearance, but not by much; fine lines graced her features at the corners of her eyes and mouth when she smiled. His lip quivered, and Alucard buried his face into her.

“It’s all right,” she whispered into his hair, her arms tighter around him, barely reaching across his back. “It’s all right. We’re here, Adrian. We found you again.” 

“How…” Alucard repeated wretchedly, clutching at her as though she were a fitful dream, fearful she would fade, that all this was yet another nightmare out of many that haunted his nights through the years.

With the weight of his father’s gentle hand on his head, through his hair, the tide he’d been stemming swelled and crashed with all the memories, the longing and misery, and Alucard fell against Lisa in a heap of confusion; sobbing like a child.

“We’re here,” she repeated, drawing soothing motions across his bent back as his tears stained her clothes.

Alucard nodded, as he did during his brief childhood, when she’d always be there to quell his sorrow with her love.

Lisa said no more, instead humming an old tune she would sing to him in their old times together, and held him as he wept.

Image credit: Kawase Hasui, Winter Moon over Toyama Plain

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[virusinfected-memes]

COFFEE TALK SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 2 OF ? ;

75 starters. CW: cussing, sexual themes. Coffee Talk is a visual novel game developed by Toge Productions. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed!  [PART 1]

"Different isn't always good."

"It's a neat concept, but you need to handle it carefully and gracefully."

"He needs to learn how to communicate his thoughts nicely though."

"Let's not make the mountain even higher."

"What we have here now is more than enough for me."

"I'm taking a break from work. I need to work on a few personal matters."

"I'm curious... How did you guys meet? If you don't mind me asking..."

"Now, will you let me continue without interruptions?"

"And without even thinking about it, I punched _____ in the face."

"Yeah, I landed that one punch... And he beat me to a pulp. Easily."

"How was she doing? She hasn't returned any of my calls or texts..."

"I'm sick and tired of my family."

"Why would you say that?"

"Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist. I love drawing and creating art."

"_____ is the only person that can make me feel alive."

"I have no problem leaving my family, you know. I would happily leave them for the both of us."

"I never thought of it that way before."

"There's nothing to feel bad about!"

"It's easy for you to say that now, but you don't know what the future holds."

"You know... Love is like a flame. It might burn fiercely at first, but over time it will die down, if you don't maintain it."

"Life is full of storms."

"Marriage, it will not survive on love alone."

"There are consequences... It shouldn't be taken lightly."

"Perhaps a hot drink will give you some inspiration."

"Aren't vampires supposed to be... you know... tough?"

"Just because I'm a vampire, it doesn't mean I know kung-fu."

"Thanks for not leaving me on the street, _____."

"He might be an annoying asshole, but he's not a thief."

"What a stroke of luck, the universe sending me a guardian angel in my time of need."

"Hey, I took you to breakfast! Don't tell me that counted for nothing."

"I have to say, it wasn't my proudest moment."

"_____... I'd prefer if we skipped that part. I'm sorry, but I don't want to go into any details about it."

"Thank you for sharing your story with me. I didn't expect such a tale from you."

"I've no interest in flirting with you. I've got high standards, you know."

"Please don't forget to take a break. It's easy to get carried away by work when you're on a roll."

"That's not even a word, _____."

"Are you trying to squeeze the story from me?"

"I saw you from afar when you left the coffee shop a few days ago. So, hello! My name is _____. You could say I'm a regular here."

"Wow... It turns out pervs exist everywhere in the universe."

"You're quite dense, aren't you?"

"People often mistake me for someone who gets around a lot."

"All this information is too much to process in one evening..."

"Oh, showing some concern now, are you?"

"My, my... You really have a knack for starting trouble..."

"That sounds dangerous, liking someone without knowing the reason..."

"You really need to be more careful, _____..."

"So... Umm... How are things going in the office?"

"I want to say please don't forget to rest, but I'm sure it won't be easy for you and the team."

"I wish I could help you. Or at least say something to boost your morale. Sadly, I'm not the right person to give you advice about that."

"Getting used to unhealthy working conditions shouldn't be a norm."

"Every game has its own market, you know."

"You shouldn't waste your time on me! Relax, or something!"

"I'm coming with you! Whether you like it or not!"

"I think I should celebrate with a special drink. Something sweet."

"You are sorry... I don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Please just go home after you finish your drink."

"I know _____! He's not a good person!"

"He hasn't changed much... And even if he has, it wasn't for the better."

"You're just being paranoid!"

"What's next?! You'll lock me in the house because you're afraid of the air I'm breathing?!"

"You're just too young to understand!"

"Then make me understand! Because this is definitely not helping. There are better ways."

"TRY HARDER! Because right now, you're not helping anyone! Not me, not you, no one!"

"It will take time for me to learn. But I am learning."

"_____, are you out of your mind? You've been out of touch for so long."

"If I take things slow, I'll lose all my momentum."

"Of course I heard them. I just chose to ignore most of it. It's none of my business, is it?"

"Sometimes we don't even realize what we're capable of doing."

"And I thought I was the only one who brought bad news..."

"You've never looked like someone who needs help."

"I'm sorry, _____. I'm not really in the mood for this sort of conversation."

"You're still trying to get laid?"

"That sounds like the best plan you've had since you got here."

"It's nothing. We're just friends, you know?"

"It was a slip of the tongue, okay! I'm sorry!"

[him-x-her]

Vee is for Vampires - Chapter 3

Author: @sinnysuicide AO3: SinnySioux Vamp!Ville x F!reader Wordcount: 2k + Warnings: There will be smut. 18+ only. Read on AO3. Previous Chapter ❥ Next Chapter ❥ Fic Masterlist

Chapter 3: “I’m the hungry vampire now.”

I wake up, fully clothed and completely uncomfortable. I blink a few times; my eyelids fused together with mascara and tears. I try to rub the kohl out of my eyes, and roll over to reach for my phone. It’s 16:48: I have five missed calls, all from work.

“Oh shit!” I hiss, but, truth be told, I don’t care. Maybe I can fake an illness to get a bit of time off work to recover emotionally. I don’t think ‘Sorry, I got attacked by a vampire!’ would go down well with my boss. I decide to think of excuses and maybe call in tomorrow with the best one.

Huh, vampire. Vampires exist. Although this is a completely wild and INSANE concept, it isn’t my biggest fear. Ville tearing my throat out and murdering me isn’t my biggest fear, either. I guess my biggest fear is never again being as happy as I was last night. Upon admitting this to myself the tears start to fall once more. I remove the makeshift tourniquet of an old scarf and take another look at my puncture wounds. They still look sore and will probably take a week or so to heal. I take a shower to mask the sound of my sobbing.

…

I towel dry my hair and brush my teeth. I know that I should eat something but the thought of doing so makes me nauseous. I switch on the TV and stare into the void for a bit.

#And next on ITV starring Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt, it’s Interview With The Vampire.#

I blink. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I switch the TV off and sling the remote across the room. “FUCK this!” I say out loud; I am fed up of feeling sad and worthless. I turn my lamp on and close the curtains. It’s Autumn so it’s starting to get darker sooner in the evenings. I walk into the bathroom to take a look at myself. Pink, puffy eyes. I tie my hair into a messy bun, and put on some old ripped jeans and a black tank top. I go rooting through the bathroom drawer for a cleanser.

“Ouch!” I draw my palm back to see I’ve accidentally caught it on a razor I had haphazardly thrown in the other day. There is a clear slit in my left palm and it begins to bleed. “Fucking great!” I mutter, dismally sarcastic, trying to remember if I have any bandages lying around. Suddenly, there is a knock at the door: I freeze. I don’t know if it’s someone from work checking up on me or even Ville himself since he knows where I live.

I walk hesitantly to the door and stop a foot or so in front of it. “Who is it?” I say, throat hoarse.

“It’s Ville, please, please let me explain.” he begs. I feel sick.

“Explain how you confused me with a snack?!?” I say angrily. This is good. Anger is much more manageable and cathartic than depression.

“I hate myself for what I did to you”, his voice breaks slightly. “Let me heal you, at least”, he pleads.

I hesitate for a moment. Heal me? How? I unlock the door and open it very slowly, my hands shaking. He takes a step into the room and I take three steps back.

“Please, I’m not here to hurt you.” My eyes begin to well up and my hand instinctively flies to my neck. His eyes are pink too; he looks like he has spent his day similarly. Somehow he still looks incredibly beautiful in his black skinny jeans, V-neck shirt and blazer. I glimpse part of a tattoo on his chest and have to snap my gaze away from him to refocus. He approaches me slowly.

“Do you trust me?”

“No… yes… I don’t know!” I become flustered and start to cry. I want so desperately to believe that he is the same man from nine hours ago.

“I’m going to heal your wounds, okay?” He moves closer. He opens his mouth and bares his sharp fangs, and bites down into his wrist. He starts to bleed thick and deep and red. He puts his wrist to my neck and I feel a warming sensation. He pulls back and I run to the bathroom to look in the mirror: the puncture wounds are no more. There is no trace of Ville’s blood.

“W-what? How?” I begin to shake again.

“Shhh, sit down”, he takes my hand firmly but gently and sits me down on the sofa. He sits next to me and takes my hands in his. I flinch when I remember the wound from earlier.

He cups my palm with his. “When did this happen?” He asks, concerned, as he bites down into his wrist again, which appears to have miraculously healed from a moment ago. He puts his bloody lips in my palm and kisses lightly. I watch the skin heal, the wound close and the blood dry up and dissipate. I am in awe. “There” says Ville with a smile “Healed.”

“Huh”, I say, “I guess I know who to call when I get a papercut.” Sarcasm forever my go to when things get tough; masking the discomfort with humour is my way of coping.

“I would give anything for you to call me; I’d heal every part of your body for just an ounce of forgiveness”, he looks sad, but hopeful. I want to trust him, to give this a shot, but I cannot let him off this easily.

I remove my hands from his and stand, my arms folded. “You came to explain”, I state coldly.

He looks morose, “I want you to know I don’t take what I did lightly. I don’t expect you to forgive me or for us to ride off into the sun-“

“Well OBVIOUSLY NOT because you would burst into flames, seeing as you conveniently forgot to tell me you’re a FUCKING VAMPIRE!!” here comes the rage again. I feel myself burning with utter fury.

I give myself a moment to take a breath.

“Would you have believed me?” He looks at me with his beautiful pools of green and I try my hardest not to melt.

“…no” I say, and sit back down on the couch, defeated.

“Please let me just explain what happened. Then you can hate me, you can punch me, you can scream at me. I just want you to understand.”

After a few seconds of silence I concede, “Okay.” He removes his black beanie hat and runs his hands through his hair, visibly stressed.

“When you met me, outside the bar, I hadn’t been drinking alcohol. I’d fed from someone. I didn’t realise they were inebriated until I was giggling like an idiot in your car.” My eyes widen as he talks about feeding. Ville seems to pick up on it. “It’s fine, I healed him and he went back to his friends. Anyway, vampires are nocturnal. We sleep during the day and waking us from sleep can make us feel pretty disoriented. I hadn’t fed properly - I awoke confused - and I could smell your blood. I became overwhelmed with hunger. When I heard you scream it snapped me back into reality and I was horrified…” he looks down and runs his hands through his hair again.

“Last night I… I had the best night of my life. All day I’ve been thinking about listening to your playlist, the way your eyes lit up when I played my guitar, the way you held me, the way we kissed”… he looks up at me with his glassy eyes, his lashes wet with tears. “I have never felt this way before and I would do anything to earn your forgiveness, anything.”

I fight the urge to hold him, to comfort him.

“I…” the tears roll down my cheeks before I can speak. Ville moves closer to me and takes my hands in his again, kissing my healed palm.

“Please don’t be afraid of me. I promise I will never hurt you again.” He soothes.

I take a deep breath and swipe the tears from my face. “I’m not afraid of you, Ville. I probably should be, but I’m not.” He looks at me curiously. “I lost the only family I knew when I was very young. I never wanted to rely on another human being because life is so fleeting,, and nothing is promised. We’re born, we kill time, we die.” My voice begins to waver. “I am afraid of the connection we had last night, the feelings I felt… and never having those feelings again.” The tears silently roll out of my eyes, pool at my chin and fall to the floor.

In an instant, Ville wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. I bury my face in his chest and sob. A moment passes and I look up to gauge Ville’s feelings. He looks at me with sparking emerald eyes, the life in him returned. He places his thumb on my chin to tilt it upwards, and kisses me sweetly.

“Minä rakastan sinua, baby.” He whispers.

“What does that mean?” I ask, looking up into his eyes.

He blushes. “It’s Finnish… maybe I’ll tell you when you forgive me?”

I giggle into his chest; his V-neck wet with my tears. “I’m sorry, let me dry your shirt?” I offer.

Ville promptly unbuttons his blazer and pulls his shirt over his head. My eyes rake over his smooth chest and the little path of hair which leads down… he has portrait tattoos on his chest, a tattoo of what looks like a mix of a heart and a pentagram around his nipple and a swirly decorative tattoo just above his… “Ahem”, Ville clears his throat, “My eyes are up here”. I blush furiously.

“Um… I think I’m the hungry vampire now”. Ville throws his head back and laughs loudly as I place his shirt on the radiator. He walks over to me and softly places his hands on my hips.

“Forgive me?” He purrs.

“Oh, no, baby. You need to earn it.” I smirk with sass.

“Oh, I will”, he vows. “So tell me, baby vamp, which part of me makes you most hungry?” He presses his body to mine and before I know it we’re kissing passionately. My tongue claiming his; my hands grabbing at the luscious curls atop his head. All of the pain, the sorrow, the anger; every single emotion of the last twelve hours thrown into our physical connection.

Breathless, Ville whispers, “Where is your bed?” I hook an index finger beneath the button of his jeans and pull him forwards. He shudders at my touch as I coax him into my bedroom. Softly, I fall backwards into my cold cotton sheets, exposing my midriff as my tank top rides up. Ville crawls atop me and kisses my lower abdomen. I gasp and start to feel wet in my underwear. He begins to unbutton my jeans with his teeth.

“No…” I whine.

He promptly stops. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to?”

I sigh. “I want to, so badly, but we need to slow down and you need to earn this. We need to reestablish trust, and you need to prove your self restraint.” I am so mad at myself for being my own cock-block, but I want this to last, and I want more than just sex.

Ville nods and moves up my bed to lie next to me. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks, with hope.

“Absolutely” I grin, and our lips lock again. We spend hours making out; I run my hands up and down his smooth chest, enjoying the curves and texture of his toned abdomen. He cups my breast through my top. I pull his bottom lip forward with my teeth, and the only sounds are soft moans and gentle bed creaking as we rock back and forth, grinding against each other through our jeans.

It gets to 4am and I am visibly exhausted, my tired eyes illuminated by the full moon hovering proudly in the sky above my window. “Do you want me to stay?” asks Ville, but we both know it is too soon.

“No, baby, I have damage control to do with work tomorrow and I need a good night’s sleep. You’ll have all day to think about how to make it up to me” I smile.

“Let me take you for a romantic date?” asks Ville “Let me treat you like the goddess that you are.” His eyes shine.

“Mmm, okay” I say, sleepily. He gets up and fetches his clothes. I pout as he throws his blazer and beanie back on. His shirt still wet, I ask him if I can keep it.

He smiles genuinely and brilliantly. “Only if you sleep in it and imagine my arms around you” he teases, but I know that is exactly what I will do.

I follow him to my door, “I thought I was clear about burning the hat”, I raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, I got rid of the flat cap! The beanie stays, though” he laughs. “I’ll come and pick you up tomorrow, 7pm? I’ll leave all my hats at home” he flashes his brilliant white teeth at me as he grins.

“Okay” I smile, as he kisses my forehead.

“Thank you. I will make it up to you. I’ll be thinking about those lips all day.” He walks out of the door, down the corridor, and out of the apartment complex. I do as I’m told.

I undress completely and slip on his shirt. I slide into my sheets and touch myself, thinking about his tattoos and the mystery lying beneath the button of his jeans. The last thing I think about are his piercing eyes, as the rain against my window lulls me into a deep sleep.

Graphics by saradika-graphics

[adarkrainbow]

Fairytales 0%

So... a long time ago I made on my old DA account a post titled “fairytales 0%” and while I do not like this title I will still use it to report my thoughts here. Because the idea behind this post was to find, among the numerous movies and cartoons that were just adaptations of fairytales, some that felt like a fairytale, were fairytales, and yet were not adaptations of any existing story or based on any existing story. Brand new fairytales, and yet with “0%” old fairytale in it. I know the title is unclear and quite a stretch, and I am not pleased with it, but I’ll stick to it for now... And so here is the list of four works I listed that for me are those “brand new visual fairytales”, those “fairytales 0%”. There are much more - but those were the four ones I could think of at the time.

1) Over the Garden Wall

An animated mini-series that aired in November 2014. The story of two half-brothers, the young, childish and naive Gregory alongside the older, more reasonable and sensible Wirt, as they try to find their way home ; for they are lost in a strange and magical forest known as “The Unknown”.

This piece of work is already cult. If you did not heard of it before, you must have heard of its creator - Patrick McHale, the man who was behind Adventure Time.

The first (and the second) time I watched Over the Garden Wall in its entirety, and this is true,, I felt the exact same feeling, the exact same sensation, as I felt upon hearing or seeing fairytales when I was younger. The EXACT same feeling - I literaly said upon watching the last episodes “I feel like I am discovering a new fairytale”. This mini-series is a masterpiece, a beautiful modern fairytale.

It takes back a lot of the codes and tropes of the fairytale genre: two siblings lost in the woods, who meet strange people, talking animals and witches ; undergoing a personal journey while being stalked by a monstrous entity ; and through their adventures learning not to trust appearances... But it truly seeks to build its own, unique story and identity. It notably does that by drawing upon all sorts of “old-timey” references and homages to the American “childhood culture” - from the early cartoons of the 20th century to the Wizard-of-Oz-like literature... And the cast! From Elijah Wood passing by John Cleese, without forgetting Tim Curry, so many famous voices!

Over the Garden Wall is one of those things you need to see once in your life.

2) Valerie and Her Week of Wonders

A Czech movie released in 1970, whose surrealist tone keeps oscillating between the fantasy and the horror - at least, that’s how it is officially described.

Valerie and Her Week of Wonders was a succesful and beautiful attempt at creating a modern fairytale. A young teenage girl, Valerie, lives a seemingly normal life in a remote Czech village. One day she pricks her finger, drawing a few drops of blood on flowers below, and her pearl earrings are stolen. From there starts a strange series of events that turn the story into a dream-like phantasmagoria...

Just like with Over the Garden Wall, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders reuse many codes, tropes and archetypes of fairytales while building its own unique story where the marvelous and the realist entwine. A wicked family member turning against the heroine... there is a male monster lurking around a sweet and innocent young girl, not an ogre or a wolf but here a vampire... Said young girl has to grow up through a series of strange events symbolizing other forms of maturity... A long lost brother put under a spell that needs to be rescued...

However there is one major difference with Over the Garden Wall: OTGW puts a distance with its own weirdness, playing consciously on the strangeness of the fairytale world. VAHWOW rather embraces the fantastical and oniric tones of the story, recreating in a straigth way all the marvels and grotesques of fairytales - which as a result makes one feel like this movie is a literal adaptation of an already existing fairytale... when it is not. 

A really beautiful and soothing movie.

3) Pan’s Labyrinth

A Spanish fantasy movie by Guillermo del Toro, released in 2006. 

Pan’s Labyrnth is always at the top of the lists of “modern fairytale movies”, and for good measure. You might know Guillermo del Toro as the amazing mind behind works such as the first two Hellboy movies, The Shape of Water, Crimson Peak, The Devil’s Backbone, Mimic or Cronos.

Pan’s Labyrinth tells the story of young Ofelia, a little girl living in 1944 Spain and whose pregnant mother just married Captain Vidal, a member of Franco’s fascist regime. Ofelia tries to adapt to her new life and father, but in the process discovers in the ruins of a labyrinth an old faun - who tells her that she is the long-lost princess of a fairy kingdom! To regain her throne and find back her real parents, she needs to undergo three trials... 

The movie is split in two: on one side, the real world, dealing with the horrors of war. A story of fascists and resistants, as well as the story of Ofelia’s new life and of the pregnancy of her mother - a historical piece. On the other side, the fairy world, with its magic, wonders and terrors. The two were designed to reflect each other in the typical theme of “the fairytale tale (or the imaginary world) is a reflection of reality”. In fact, Guillermo del Toro gave this trope a renewed popularity specifically thanks to this marvelous movie.

However, be prepared: this is not a children movie. It is an adult movie, it is a war movie, it is filled with violence and sadness - and it mostly seeks to adapt the darkest and most disturbing aspects of the fairytale world, relying on the “original” conception of fairies and nature spirits as dangerous creatures of the night. It stays however a very touching and powerful movie, with beautiful visuals. You’ll find in there a set of three trials, nods to The Devil’s Three Golden Hair, an amazing reinterpretation of the Ogre, beautiful shots of woods, and a strong system of symbolism perfect for this adult, mature, serious fairytale.

Beware: fragile souls should probably avoid it.

4) Spirited Away

Let’s get out of the darkness for a more child-like movie.

All the classic movies of Studio Ghibli can be considered fairytales of some sort, since they all share this particularity “fairytale” quality to them - which does make sense given most of them are actually adaptations of fantasy books. But the most obviously “fairytale-y” of them all is not a book adaptation: it is the movie “Spirited Away”.

A young girl moves to a new town with her family. Her parents lead her to what they believe to be some sort of abandoned amusement park, but as it turns out it is a bathhouse for the yokai (Japanese folkloric creatures). The food there turns the girl’s parents into pigs, and she needs to hide herself from the various spirits inhabiting the place. With the help of a mysterious young boy, she will be hired by the wicked witch ruling over this strange place - starts a quest for her to save herself and her parents, while solving the mystery of the strange young boy’s identity... 

Created by the famous Hayao Miyazaki and released in 2001, Spirited Away is another one of those “modern fairytales” movie, and the interesting thing here is that it is based on actual Japanese folklore and Japanese fairytales - the monsters and supernatural entites seen throughout this movie being lifted out of Japanese legends. It still keeps however several nods to Western fantasy works, most notably Alice in Wonderland. And above all, we find here the universal fairytale tropes and ideas: the topic of food and eating, a young girl lost in a strange world where magic is behind every corner, a wicked witch, small friendly helpers, a story about making deals and overcoming trials to save a loved one ; a story filled with transformations, cruses and secret identities... 

And there is no need to say how beautiful this movie is - as with all the great Ghibli Studio movies.

[the-fiction-witch]

Morning

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Smut

Requested

Anonymous asked:

Hi it was my birthday a few days ago and I was wondering if you can do on were Thomas wakes y/n by fucking her awake all consensual and I understand if that makes you uncomfortable and I hope you have a wonderful day/night

Smut Full sex / Nudity/ biting/ screaming / hikies /

I found myself slowly dragged from my dreams slowly but surely being returned to the waking world, the small stiff mattress below me the cosy duvet pushed away from me, my head still rested on my pillow, the room warm but dark still but the main thing I noticed was how full I felt my legs wide open my ankles locked together around his waist as I woke up more I opened my eyes and saw Thomas knelt on the bed between my legs, inside me thrusting slowly where he was clearly not that awake either, his arms on the bed either side of my waist, he loomed over me his hair slight wet clearly fresh out the shower but no scent of coffee yet on his breath 

"Morning" I cooed running my hands up his arms 

"Morning" He cooed giving me a little kiss 

"This is a strange way to wake up" I giggled "I'm not complaining though" 

"No, Well I didn't want to rush off without waking you" he smirked "and I thought the best way to wake my babydoll was to make her feel good" 

"you didn't have to, I don't want to make you late"

"You won't babydoll. I have an hour before I'm meant to be down in the wardrobe department" he groans getting faster 

"Ughhh! You could have let me sleep"

"Ohh? Would you rather I let you sleep?" 

"No" I whined 

"Exactly, I always have to run off to set before you wake up so I wanted to make sure you get some nice attention before I run off all day" 

"Very considerate Thomas" I giggled tightening my grip on him "More Please" 

"More? Are you really that desperate for attention babydoll?"

"Well you've been so busy"

"busy working" He chuckled "You needed me that badly you need to tell me before you get this desperate babydoll" he smirked getting even faster so much so I dig my nails into his arms and kept hearing the bedsprings creaking below us 

"Ughhhh Thomas please" I whined 

"Fuck- I have missed you" He groans biting at my neck to keep himself quiet I tried to kiss his neck too but he pulled back "no. I've been told off enough about the makeup girls having to cover your little love bites" 

"I like reminding them" I giggled 

"I know you do babydoll, You have a thing about marking me don't you?"

"So people know what's mine" I smirked biting his neck and leaving a harsh dark hiki on his neck that would no doubt need covering before he got on set today 

"What's yours?" he smirked seeing the mark I left on him "Maybe I should make you squeal make sure everyone knows your mine" he smirked becoming merciless his hips working hard and fast leaving me with no escape clawing down his back and squealing loudly trying desperately to hold on for just moments more but I knew the wave was coming and there was little I could do to fight it even if I didn't really want it to stop until I felt my wave crash over me curling my toes and forcing my back to arch and my eyes to roll back 

"AAaaaahhhh! UUghhhhh! Thomas!" I squealed digging my nails deep into his skin almost enough to draw blood but this only fueled him more to move harder and faster working into my sudden tightness and wave of pleasure making sure I felt every second of it honestly he was working into his own too his mind working on pure lust and reaction until he hit is own biting at my neck like a vampire to hide his groans and grunts even if I still heard them against my ear as his hips moved wildly and he soon buried himself as deep as he could

"Fuck-"

"Ummm I love you" I smiled hugging him tightly as he had almost collapsed ontop of me 

"Love you too y/n" he gasps 

I giggled and gave his forehead a kiss gently petting his hair while he got his breath back, once he did he pulled out and sat on the end of the bed "What are you doing up so early anyway? usually have to kick you when your wardrobe department alarm goes off"

"I'm still jet lagged" he says slipping off and tieing up the condom throwing it to the trash before working on getting dressed which I happily watched "I don't know how you adjust so well when we travel"

"I don't know" I giggled tucking the covers around me 

"awww no goodbye cuddle? No breakfast? no nothing? you got what you wanted I'm worthless now"

"Nooo I'm just trying to get cosy" I giggled "as I'll be all alone all day"

"Not all day, I'm off set at one I'll come and cuddle you when I'm done" he explained getting his shirt on  "Still. All alone" I pouted 

"That's why I woke you up before I left, you know I don't like abandoning you all day" he says sitting on the bed giving my head a kiss "But I'll be back later and we can do something this after noon okay?"

"Ummmm"

"Okay babydoll?"

"Okay" I smiled giving him a soft kiss he happily kissed back and I egarly tried tugging him back into bed which did sort of work as he ended up leant over me half in the bed till he pulled back

"Don't tempt me babydoll" He smirked "I'm in enough trouble for being late. and keeping other people up with our noise. I'll see you later have a good day"

"You too." I smiled 

he got up and grabbed his stuff for the day from the chair by the door 

"I love you" I giggled as he opened the trailer door 

"I love you more babydoll," He cooes before he rushed out and off to wardrobe for his day on set and I happily turned over wrapped my arms around his pillow and went back to sleep. 

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Appetites

Five years ago the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

(Angst and fluff and smut) Changed up the format because it was starting to look so silly with 20+ chapters.

Check it out on Ao3 from the beginning or jump into chapter twenty two below the cut.

If the last few days had Isolde feeling out of her depth, then there was no reason that the present situation should be an improvement. But, she checked her heartbeat, her breathing, and examined her feelings and found that she was no longer panicking, no longer on the edge of drowning. She felt a little guilty about the whole thing, actually. Astarion’s life was falling apart, and somehow, her presence within it was contributing to that, but she felt a kind of relief. This might be the extent of the punishment that Mephistopheles had in mind. It was only then that she realized that she had been expecting something much worse for him. In comparison to the possibilities, being fiend-marked was manageable.

She did feel guilty for that thought, though. Astarion wasn't able to take this optimistic view, and why would he?

He knelt on the floor of the ballroom, clothing in tatters around his changed body, concentrating and failing to transform, either into one of his typical animal shapes, or back into his true form. Every moment that passed and he was still in this new, fiend-marked form was clearly agonizing for him.

Alice kept the gith child at an educational distance. Close enough that he could still see the master, but far enough away that he wouldn’t feel threatened by his very presence. She was whispering to him quietly, and he was nodding, so Isolde imagined that some reductive explanation was in order.

Leon and Aurelia were closer, but speaking in hushed tones that Isolde couldn’t catch a single note of. She didn’t see guilt in their countenances. Good. They shouldn’t feel guilty about any of this, she decided. It was his doing, in the end.

But, she still wanted to help him manage the consequences, if she could. Just because he was responsible for what had happened, didn’t mean he deserved it. She didn’t know what she could do to help, but to start, at least, she decided that she wasn’t going to keep her distance. Even if this new form made her uncomfortable, she was going to endure it.

Except, she didn’t feel uncomfortable with it at all.

It was tempting to attribute it to her childhood with Vovka, but honestly, Astarion and Vovka still didn’t resemble one another, even now that they shared some specific hell-touched attributes. Being in Astarion’s presence didn’t feel quite the same as being in the presence of a cambion. He was still himself.

And, even on a purely aesthetic level, the differences were stark. Vovka’s horns had been lacquer black and smooth when he was younger, drawing in and pointing high above his head like a wicked crown, and as he’d gotten older, they started to split with yellow and orange lines of infernal light, like molten lava, cracking through that smooth exterior, especially when he was upset. By the time he ran away from home, they were almost always burning bright through the tips.

In contrast, Astarion’s looked more like a sort of horns she’d seen on some of the humble tiefling citizens of Bladur’s Gate; they resembled white, unpolished bone, carving in more of a halo arc, and running parallel to his pointed ears in a way that complemented the angles of his elven features. His skin remained the bloodless, vampiric shade of pale that she was used to, though the sclera of his eyes had changed to black as pitch, and though the irises remained red, the new contrast seemed to add a sheen that hadn’t been there before. He also didn’t seem to have quite so many of the extra prongs, ridges and vestigial claw-like nubs that dotted Vovka’s skin. His tail was ridged though, that was a little different, and with a subtle lean and a swerve of her eyes, she could see that the ridges continued up his spine to the nap of his neck. 

The strangest thing was his wings, and his back.

The scars that his master had carved into his flesh were no longer in their original place, instead, the marks were distorted and stretched across the reach of his leathery wings. The infernal glyphs were huge, and now, easily exposed and readable. 

He flexed his claw-like hands and then fisted them against the ground with a crash of frustration. “Godsdammit,” he lamented in an almost imperceptible whisper. Another failed attempt to take control of his own body, and transform back.

It had only been minutes, and so Isolde was not ready to write off that possibility, but it seemed unlikely to her that Mephistopheles intended for the change to be anything less than permanent. At least, on some level.

Tentative, but determined not to leave him feeling worse, or abandoned, she scooted nearer, placing herself directly under the shade of one arced wing. He looked up sharply, sensing her, but he couldn’t quite lift his eyes.

She thought about telling him how very handsome he still was, but knew that wouldn’t make him feel better, even if it was true. The point of being marked as a fiend was not to lash one’s vanity, but to send a message, not just to the soul being punished, but to everyone who saw them. And the message about Astarion was clear, red, and written in angry infernal on his new wings. He was bound. Mephistopheles had him in his collection: a new monster.

“Why would he believe that you might try to go back on the deal?” the question slipped out from between her lips, thoughtless at first, but in the silence that followed, Isolde did think, and decided that the question was a very good one, though she might already know the answer.

Astarion finally met her eyes, and she read pain and shame and fear in them like she’d never seen before. “Because, even if it’s not what I intended, there must be a way to reverse the rite of profane ascension. I haven’t yet done anything to take any of those souls back from him, but… if it’s even possible.” His voice went toneless, and he managed to remark on the seemingly impossible task with no passion, even as he declared, “It must be possible.”

Isolde nodded, that’s what she had been thinking as well. Mephistopheles was warning him not to mess with the parameters of the deal, because, as with any deal, there was some way out of it. But, it appeared that it was not as simple as using a few scrolls of true resurrection on the victims.

Still. It might be something down that same path.

“If you knew how. Would you?”

“I don’t. I don’t know,” Astarion said in barely more than a murmur, and it wasn’t clear whether he was simply reiterating that he had no idea how to reverse profane ascension, or if he was saying that he didn’t know if he would even want to, if it was possible. He seemed to pick up on this ambiguity as he watched her face, and with a sigh he clarified his explanation, “I don’t know how, so there’s no point speculating—”

“—for the sake of pointless speculation.” Isolde pressed him.

His wings dropped, his shoulders slumping as his head tilted, almost crashing into his own chest with the new weight of his horns. “I suppose it would depend on how difficult it would be, and what it would mean for me,” he admitted. “Becoming a vampire spawn again would not be desirable. I’d never see the sun again, be limited in how and where I can live. The hunger would rule me again,” he winced at that last thought.

“But it still depends?” If it would only bring him inconvenience, and if he’d already purchased what he wanted from hell, why even entertain the idea?

“Well. If it wasn’t such a huge amount of trouble,” he groaned, “I suppose—not that there’s much hope for it,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, “honestly—I’ve known for a long time that the best afterlife I could hope for would still be faithless and lost. But. That might be better than whatever is fated for me now.” But his gaze flickered to Leon and Aurelia, softening ever so slightly before he steeled himself and looked back at his hands, frowning, perhaps at how growing claws had positively ruined his manicure. He tsked.

“And if it’s very complicated and difficult? Likely impossible?”

“Well, it must not be impossible, if he’s this worked up about it,” Astarion gestured to himself in such a way that the last of his torn shirt flopped over his wrist and he flicked it away in annoyance. “But. I’ve had a few years to get to know myself, and one thing I have learned is that the longer a plan may take me to execute, the more likely it is that I will get distracted or lose interest.”

“Or, despair,” Isolde wasn’t sure why she said it, and she kept her voice quiet, but not so quiet that Astarion couldn’t hear her.

His gaze was hard on her face. His jaw clenched over his fanged teeth. “Yes,” he said the word in a clipped, dangerous tone. “Or that.” If he was angry with her, he fought it off, and when he spoke again his tone conveyed only concern, even if his words were harsh. “Now you’ll see how fickle I am. Just last night I begged you to stay, but you must see now that your plan to leave the city was a wise one. You should pack your—my things and go.”

“No,” Isolde said flatly, because for all his bluster, she didn’t believe that was really what he wanted.

“I think that I can land you in more trouble than either of your former horrid masters.”

“Undoubtedly,” Isolde agreed. “The hells already know I’m here with you.”

“But if you run—”

“—consummate predators,” she stated grimly. “The devils see us as things to be exploited or consumed. As I am, I’m in reserve. If I run, I incite their instincts to chase.” 

Growing up, Isolde was firm in her stated beliefs that there was nothing inherently evil about her brother. Unfortunately, Vovka himself often advocated the counterpoint. He’d confided in her about the drives he had, many of them dark and destructive, and aimed at himself as well as those closest to him. He’d once said that he never saw someone run without feeling the urge to chase them down like a dog.

Astarion was gazing at her like he wanted to argue, but for once he didn’t seem to have words.

She leaned in and caught his mouth softly with her own, taking him by surprise, it seemed. He didn’t so much lean into the kiss as she felt him resting his forehead against hers. His hands found her fingertips, and as though overcompensating for the new claws, his touch was more tender than usual.

Aurelia approached them, tugging Leon’s wrist and dragging him along, and glancing back as if to present him. She waited, looking at Leon expectantly.

With a sigh, Leon admitted, “I can probably put together some kind of glamor. It will take a little time though. And money.”

If Astarion heard him, he didn’t seem to comprehend what he was saying. He nodded, but his ascent felt mindless to Isolde. 

“I can see to Alice and Barnes and your little ward,” Aurelia offered, “if you need to take some time.”

Again, Astarion’s main form of acquiescence came only through silence.

He let his siblings leave him, Aurelia leading Alice and the gith child away as well. Their shoes were still clicking on the ballroom floor when Astarion finally gathered up enough will to say something in farewell. “I don’t regret it,” he declared, voice filled with the gravel of defiance.

Aurelia acknowledged him only by glancing back over her shoulder without slowing her stride.

Alone again, Isolde thought that she would be glad to spend the rest of the night sitting here with him while he failed to work it all out in his troubled mind. She wasn’t sure what she could possibly do to help—probably nothing much. But, his efforts to send her away aside, he didn’t want to be alone, of that much, she felt certain.

Heavily, Astarion began to lay back, tentative and awkward with his movements. He winced as his wings spread flat, his back arching and the tips of his horns clicking on the floor behind his head. “Oh gods. You really just can’t lie on your back like this, can you?” he sighed, “even if I could find a comfortable, folded position for the wings, or tail, the horns won’t allow it. So much for sleeping as a hobby.”

“Vovka always had to lie on his stomach,” Isolde recalled, “he didn’t sleep much either though.”

“...Perhaps some kind of neck splint.”

“They sell those for tieflings,” Isolde tried to remember where she’d seen them, or at least which vendors she could ask about the item. From a practical standpoint, these were problems that had solutions. He could use Leon’s glamor, or various temporary spells to change his appearance back, even if his true form was indeed, forever altered. Again.

And that was the real problem, she realized, with a pang to her heart. The issue wasn’t a practical one. It was a matter of emotional turmoil. A reminder that his body still wasn’t his own.

After a few moments, Astarion gave up on his attempts to find a comfortable position on his back, and struggled a little to sit up again, accidentally pinning one of his own wings as he tried to find purchase with his palms. He glared at nothing in particular.

Somewhat invited, and somewhat intruding, Isolde’s thoughts turned back to moments just mere days ago, when they’d made love less than a few yards away from where they sat now. Everything had seemed so complicated at the time, but looking back, those were surely the very simplest of days. The palace had felt so empty, and their time together was entirely dictated according to their own devices. And gods, had they ever spent it well.

That could easily never be the case again.

A low chuckle from the shadows made her start from her dreamy recollections. If Astarion too was startled by the sudden appearance of an on-looker, he only expressed it through another aggravated sigh.

From the far corner of the room, shrouded, a long body unfurled itself from dark leathery wings. Isolde’s denial only lasted a few heartbeats, but for an instant, she was certain that it was any monster in the world other than her own lost Vovka.

She might not have recognized him, if she hadn’t already spent so much of the day remembering him and recalling the details of him. He was so changed.

That Astarion deemed his height inconsiderate made perfect sense now that she was seeing him in the flesh. Vovka wasn’t larger than a human man could be, but she couldn’t immediately recall having ever seen a man taller. The horns and wings enhanced this impression. When she’d seen him last, they'd been roughly the same size, and he’d been wiry and lithe rather than muscular like he was now. His hair was long now, piled back off his face with the sides shaved lower, but still, undoubtedly long when it wasn’t tied up. Their parents had always kept it cropped rather short for convenience and because their mother wasn’t convinced it couldn’t catch fire from his horns when they sparked and smoked. His face was grown, and more than ever before, his bones made him look like their father, and her guts twisted at the implications. She’d speculated, as had others, that the mortal parent was not the one who carried the child in her womb, but that her mother had only been used as a forced surrogate for their father’s indiscretion. His maturing features seemed to confirm that theory.

His eyes were different from how she remembered them. Like Aurelia, and now, Astarion, the sclera was black, but his iris was not the wreath of flame she remembered, there was a cool, bright light to them, nearly a flat white straight on, though even as she thought this, the sheen and the angle of his face sparked red, then yellow, then purple.

Though he’d announced himself with a laugh, there was no hint of amusement on his face. He approached at a worrisome pace, gradual, like he wasn’t quite ready.

“I honestly didn’t know what he was going to do,” Vovka offered, cocking his head at Astarion, and then she saw the amusement, but it was fleeting.

Whether or not they should believe him, Isolde decided it didn’t matter. She couldn’t imagine a world in which anything anyone thought about it could sway an archdevil. She didn’t even realize she was on her feet until they had carried her directly to her long lost half-brother. She charged at him, still in a debate with herself over whether she should strike him, embrace him, or perhaps some combination of both.

It the end, she only managed to come to a halt directly in front of him, just inches before she might’ve wrapped her arms around his waist, or her hands around his throat. She looked up at him, and for the first time she ever remembered, couldn't read his face.  “I looked for you. Everywhere.”

“A waste of effort.” Vovka informed her curtly.

“It was not.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly trying to create a barrier between them, and now, for some reason, she could bring herself to hug him. First, she grabbed his arms and untangled them to his visible discomfort, and forced him into an embrace. She’d forgotten how warm he was. Of course, it was the fires of hell, so the longer she stayed close to him, the more painful it would become, and she released him mere seconds after he started to relax just a touch.

“Should I leave the two of you to catch up?” Astarion managed to infuse his voice with a little of his old bravado as he rose to his feet.

“No,” Isolde and Vovka said in unison.

“Too painful,” Isolde clarified.

“Too much trouble. Not in keeping with our family tradition of avoidance.” Vovka cocked his heavy brows.

“Precisely,” Isolde agreed with Vovka’s cynical correction.

“So that’s it?” Astarion seemed to welcome a momentary distraction from his own drama, at least.    “Two decades of estrangement and—”

“—more than that,” Vovka grumbled, “time can pass in hell according to its own metrics. I might be older than you are now, big sister,” he seemed amused by the idea, but it made Isolde feel despondent in the extreme. He gave her the slightest reprieve from his so familiar and yet so different gaze, and turned his attention to Astarion instead. “You know, the Erinyes used to be regularly mistaken for aasimar by mortals. Big feathered wings and serene countenance. But, they traded all that for cloven hooves and more bestial features.”

“By their own leave?”

Vovka laughed at that, “when is it ever?” he shrugged. “I can teach you the spell to take on your old appearance.” he added, “no charge,” just at the moment that both Isolde and Astarin started to open their mouths to ask about the other end of the bargain.

Astarion regarded him suspiciously, but after a moment said, “thank you. I’d appreciate that,” slowly.

“It’s going to hurt. A lot.”

“There it is.”

Vovka sauntered over to the spot of ballroom floor that was severely scuffed from where the githyanki’s woman sword had connected with it, and drew his boot over the marks absently. “It’s not perfectly reliable, and it's not going to be something you can use all the time. It might take you years to get a decent number of hours out of it.”

Isolde remembered vividly how frustrated he had been when Vovka was a child and couldn’t maintain his human form long enough to spend any substantial amount of time outside of the house. It was a kind offer, but freely given? “Will he be unhappy with you? For helping us?” Isolde asked, foregoing the temptation to just thank him. Leon’s glamor might be safer, less likely to cause trouble, if only because it came from Leon.

Vovka gave a shrug that said for all the world he didn't give a shit if Mephistopheles was unhappy with him, but Isolde knew better. They all did.

“Why help me?” Astarion asked bluntly. “Feeling impervious?”

“Apathetic,” Vovka corrected. “They want me to keep close? Keep watch? They know how this works. Why bother sticking to the shadows when a soul is already bound? If anyone asks, I can turn the question around and wonder at what methods they would use to keep you close and beholden to hell? Offering help is usually more effective than threats when dealing with mortals. Even devils out for their first harvest know that.”

His blunt delivery and deadpan tone was a bit chilling to Isolde, but Astarion’s mouth lifted into a sharp smile for just an instant. She could have sighed audibly, of course, he'd find that reassuring. Astarion desperately craved compassion and understanding, but could never quite accept those things when they were offered freely. He was more comfortable with artifice. “Independent contractor, you said?” He asked, contemplative.

Vovka groaned. “Slipped out. Bad joke.”

“But you're not one of them. Beholden to them yourself, I gather.”

“I’m just a cambion. I can serve an infernal purpose, when it's demanded of me, or I can be a light snack for Tiamat.” He shrugged again, this time with a little shudder through his wings that suggested that was less a casual example of hell’s cruelty, and more an anecdote. “I’ll serve.”

Astarion stole a glance Isolde’s way. She wanted to read it as conspiring, at first, but decided after a moment that perhaps she simply needed to get used to reading him with the newly blackened sclera. Astarion looked away after a moment, lips pursed before he reasoned out loud, “They’re just using you too.”

Vovka furrowed his brow a little at that, but not like he didn’t understand. More like there was nothing more obvious in the world.

[itsren-again]

Familiar

Rating: E for everyone | Word Count: 1718 | Pairing: Adam x Jonah (@sustainably-du-mortain OC Detective) x Nate | Notes: I feel so lucky to have gotten Jonah in this draw. He has been an absolute delight to get to know and work with. Thank you, @sustainably-du-mortain for providing so much detail and information about him. This is actually my first TWC fic in general and I hope I did him and the others justice.

And thank you @wayhavenficexchange for hosting this event and giving me a reason to reach out of my comfort zone.

***

It’s quiet here in Wayhaven, not in the eerie sense, but in the sense that you can still hear footsteps over the gentle bustle of the streets. The few cars that pass by and the nearby cafe chatter won’t drown out the steady tread of shoes against brick sidewalks, even for non-vampires. Vampires, of which there are several in town now, hear even more. 

For some, it’s a relief, a welcome distraction from the sensory overload that comes along with being an agent within the supernatural community’s Agency for peace. Peace and tranquility is what a town like Wayhaven promises, a small community where everyone knows everyone and the days pass by a little slower.

Peace is not what Commanding Agent du Mortain has found on the streets of Wayhaven this morning. A dense fog is blanketing the square, it has been since their arrival late last night. That the townspeople don’t seem to take special note of it tells him it’s typical for the area. How dreary.

But it’s not the low visibility or foreign territory that has dug itself under Adam’s skin and made itself at home. It’s one of those sounds that is so easily isolated in such a quiet town. This one is more prominent than the others. It is to him, at least. He furrows his brow and follows the trail without realizing he’d deviated away from the other members of his team.

The hunt doesn’t take him far; nothing in Wayhaven could be considered far. An apartment building. It mercifully blocks out what sun has dared to escape through the thick fog, casting Adam’s face in heavy shadows that feel cool and welcoming on his skin. It’s an interesting contrast to the warm feeling spreading through his chest. He might prefer the chill.

It’s easy to pinpoint the exact window; it would be, even if it weren’t one of the few ones propped open at this hour. Musical notes blossom from the open space and coast easily to where Adam stood in watch. They turn the westerly wind into their own personal stave, organizing their melody on the gentle breeze.

It’s familiar.

Not that he had heard it before, but that maybe he had felt those same emotions before. It was his mother’s lullaby; it was also the rich scent of rosemary from atop her coffin. It was the song he learned to waltz to. It was every melody Nate played in the background while he read late into the night.

Conjured by the very thought, Nate appeared in his peripheral view. Chances are he’d been there the whole time, and he knew the others were likely not far. They would, after all, follow wherever he led. 

If he wasn’t imagining, he knew Nate would feel the same way, and turned to him. His eyes were fixed on the same window. Maybe the music drew him here instead of his sense of loyalty. He isn’t wholly here either. Their eyes meet on the crescendo and Adam wonders where the notes are taking Nate and if he could join him there. 

Fumbling chords and rampant curses take the place of the entrancing melody. The spell is broken and Adam is left staring at the shameless grin on Nate’s lips. It’s not quite enough to shake the haunted feeling from his shoulders. The weight of his memories doesn’t feel as light as it had a moment ago. The good reasons he had for following the siren’s song are somewhere scattered on the asphalt around his feet.

For the first time in a long time, Adam thinks about prayer.

***

Nate stood with his usual graceful poise, the violin nestled beneath his chin as if it were an extension of his very being. His fingers, long and deft, poised lightly upon the strings, radiating a sense of familiarity and intimacy with the delicate wooden frame. The violin itself seemed to respond to his touch, the wood resonating with a knowing vibrancy.

As the bow made contact with the strings, a hushed magic filled the air. The initial stroke was soft, a tender caress that awakened the strings’ dormant melodies. The notes emerged with a sigh, a whisper that invited any listener to lean in, to partake in the secret world he was about to unveil. 

With each sweep of the bow, Nate’s body swayed ever so slightly, as if he were a conduit for the music itself. His eyes, closed in concentration, felt every nuance, every emotion encapsulated in the composition. The bow danced with precision, weaving a tapestry of sound that carried both sorrow and joy, melancholy and exuberance.

His expression was a reflection of the music he conjured–a myriad of emotions painted across his face. A furrowed brow during a crescendo of tension, a soft smile as the melody took a hopeful turn, and the subtle lift of an eyebrow during an unexpected flourish–every detail communicated a profound connection to the composition.

And as the music reached its zenith, his body seemed to become one with the melody. The final notes quivered in the air, hanging for a breathless moment before fading away. Nate lowered the bow, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the piece they had just re-birthed.

For a few suspended moments, the world remained wrapped in the echoes of the performance. Nate’s world had been marinating in this melody ever since it found him outside that apartment building. He played it over and over in his head in a desperate attempt to cling to its every note, to carve it into his subconscious and never let it go.

He hadn’t felt like flesh and blood like this in too long. The melody was every word he couldn’t think of to describe his home, his life. It felt more like him than he did on some days. 

Familiar. 

In that, maybe he remembered a part of himself that he had laid down once before and never bothered to go back and pick up. Maybe the artist from the window had found it instead.

Nate turned towards the new presence standing in the doorway. Adam changed the atmosphere like a storm; he didn’t need to see him to know he was there. He wanted to ask him what the song felt like to him. The weight of it had filled the space between them since that morning, comfortably connecting all the ends they couldn’t make meet before. Had he remembered it correctly? Did he do it justice? Was it theirs now?

He didn’t need to ask any of these things out loud. They have known each other too long for that.

***

In the heart of Wayhaven, a subtle shift began to stir the very air that had once held a sense of cozy familiarity. It was as if the town itself had taken a collective breath, and with that breath, an unseen transformation began to unfold.

The sun, once casting its golden glow with a gentle warmth, now seemed to hang lower in the sky, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the streets. The daylight held a slightly different hue, carrying a touch of melancholy as it filtered through the leaves of trees.

The townspeople, often seen bustling about with carefree smiles, now moved with a different cadence. Their footsteps seemed softer, more contemplative, as if attuned to an underlying shift that had settled over their surroundings. Conversations held a hint of hushed anticipation, as though they were sharing secrets with the town itself.

Buildings that had stood for generations seemed to hold their breath, their aging facades taking on new character in the changing light. Shadows crept along the brickwork, adding depth and mystery to familiar landmarks. 

The air itself carried a distinct crispness, a harbinger of the impending transition. 

Amidst this shift, there was a sense of introspection that seemed to settle over the town like a soft mist, especially for Jonah. He gazed upon familiar vistas with fresh eyes, finding beauty in the nuances he might have overlooked just two days ago. 

The atmosphere, once characterized by its lively rhythms, now held a more contemplative melody. It was a shift that acknowledged the passing of time, the cyclical nature of seasons, and the collective spirit of the ebb and flow of life. 

It wouldn’t leave Jonah alone. 

This new melody emerged from the ashes of every song he had ever written, ever listened to, and branded itself on his skin alongside every dragon keeping him company. He played it over and over, trying to capture the peculiar and haunting change that was happening around him, maybe just inside him. Something had changed. 

He pulls his father’s jacket tighter around his shoulders and wonders when he had made the decision to walk to work. It wasn’t the type of day he would typically do this. Wind whips the hair around his face and into his field of vision. But something in the air needed savoring. The end of the song was on the wind.

The station was on the horizon. The rising sun peaking over the tall trees highlighted its familiar lines. Something was going to happen there. Nervous and excited energy filled his stomach and fluttered through his chest with each step closer to the front door. Vehicles with out-of-state license plates filled parking spots that were usually left empty. 

The melody became louder in his head as he pushed through the front door. It spilled out through the low hum vibrating in his throat. He thinks it’s getting louder, but he’s hardly the one controlling it. Everyone in the front office goes unacknowledged for fear of losing the next note and the one after that. 

He’s still humming it, overjoyed at every second it doesn’t get lost in the ever shifting composition in his mind, when he pushes through the door to his office. Visitors he hadn’t been expecting stared back at him. The melody dies on his lips, but he sees it in the eyes of one and then another. An impossible understanding passes through the three of them and it’s gone in the next moment. 

The new sun and moon who have pulled the atmosphere of Wayhaven into this new reality are standing in Jonah’s office. The previous celestial bodies never stood a chance, surrendering the natural cadence of the town instantaneously. Jonah knew with absolute certainty that things were never going to go back to the way they were.

[onenerdroaming]

My first media review in ages! I know I said last year I'd get to Legends and Lattes as soon as I was in a headspace to write about the stories I listen to when hiking, but I'm not going to lie, saying I would review it and then forgetting about it entirely basically is my review of that book. All set up and no pay off.

Today's review is the new audible original audio drama: Slayers: A Buffyverse Story by Christopher Golden and Amber Benson.

Before anything else we have to talk about the frankly confusing discourse I've seen around Slayers. I have been following all of the new comics coming out connected to BTVS so I've honestly been shocked by this "Buffy is being disrespected and erased" discourse? There is one current long term ongoing series. This series is called The Last Vampire Slayer, and is about a world where all of the Scoobies as well as all of the Slayers save for Buffy were brutally killed years ago. Now an older jaded Buffy has to deal with a young Slayer (the only one she knows of who was not killed upon being called) who has tracked her down to beg to be trained by Buffy. Before it became an ongoing series, it was a miniseries about the young slayer talking Buffy into training her (the fact she is Willow and Tara's orphaned daughter got Buffy to decide to keep the kid from dying), which I will admit is all I read because that was all I needed to know that series really wasn't for me. I'm not a fan of that level of dark and gritty.

Honestly, the whole "Buffy is being erased" thing feels like a game of telephone being played with second hand information.

People of course tend to point to the short miniseries that recently came out where Faith arrives in Sunnydale in a position of power. The Scoobies look to her as the person in charge, because just before she arrived in an effort to try and help Buffy with her magic Willow accidentally took away Buffy's powers. This leads Willow down the path of becoming Dark Willow, and once the comic establishes Faith in her confident established position, the powerless Buffy saves the day from Dark Willow and gets her powers back in the process - reinforcing for the millionth time that Buffy doesn't need her powers to be the best at this (as in she figures out what is happening, tracks Willow down, gets Faith to act as her backup, and then saves the day). Oh, also that comic ends with canonical Buffy/Faith, Xander/Spike and Willow/Tara so color me confused about why the fandom hated it so much.

Before that we had a few other comics all of which were, of course, centered around Buffy, including a long running ongoing (the main Boom! Buffy comic) essentially about how Buffy was the best Vampire Slayer across the multiverse, where there is a massive battle across the multiverse with many different Buffys (complete with musing about how one writes Buffy in plural so truly all spellings including Buffi are valid here) and multiple multiverse traversing characters make it clear that Buffy is special because she is so important in so many worlds.

Ok, so all of that said - and here is the key thing that confuses me - this is an audio where the main draw is the original BTVS cast are reprising their roles.

Buffy fans know that neither Sarah Michelle Geller nor Allison Hannigan have ever, ever, in the history of BTVS supplementary materials, played their roles. Not for the PS2 game Chaos Bleeds (where literally every other member of the cast played their character), not for the never actually picked up or aired animated series, not for the Season 8 motion comics. This is something Amber Benson (who was in Chaos Bleeds) and Chistopher Golden (who wrote Chaos Bleeds) would most assuredly know from the start of the plotting process. It is also possible they were asked and said no - all of that said, truly the chances of either of those actresses appearing was less than zero.

That means there were two options - recast them the way those prior projects did (which dragged alllllll of them down and would muddy the whole ORIGINAL CAST RETURNS appeal) or write a story that makes sense without them (or Xander, but truly fuck him and I am glad to report he's only name checked like one time in the entire story). So of course Buffy does not appear in the story (although a wild drinking game would be to take a shot every time anyone talks about how amazing she is. In the story itself Cordelia demands that Spike, Clem, Giles and Indira stop talking about how great Buffy is all the time because it was getting old). This also means that as amazing as the cliffhanger at the end was, it felt more like a massive bone being thrown to the fans for the purpose of fanfiction rather than setting up any future story, since obviously they will NOT be able to continue with the set up plot due to casting concerns.

Ok - so now to review the audio itself. I will confess, I was not a fan of Spike's narration at the start of each episode. But my irritation with him evened out as the story went on and the cast moved past Spike and Clem. I loved the fact that our new character Indira is a massive fangirl, there to endlessly exclaim over how cool Buffy is as she tags along. I loved the way the alternate universe was used to explore different versions of the characters we know and love. Cordelia as a jaded Slayer with PTSD was fascinating, as was Anya as the lone witch left on the side of good freaking out over having to face down her best friend. Evil Tara and her relationship with Dru was of course an absolute delight. But of course the role that most impressed me - and the only actor in the audios who sounded 100000% exactly the same as she did back when the show was airing - was Drusilla. Wow, talk about an incredible performance from Juliet Landau. I also really loved the role Clem played in the audio, it was so great to have him fleshed out more and playing such a key role in the cast.

Actually ok, I lied a bit, another actor's voice was fairly unchanged and immediately recognizable. That of course was someone I was not excepting to hear and I actually shouted when that character popped up because well... with the amount of success that actor has achieved I didn't think they'd be here. But through the power of their personal friendship with Amber Benson, there they were! That was a really fun surprise cameo and I am not going to spoil who (although if you are curious this actor's inclusion in the cast is listed on the internet).

There were a few such cameos - the audio did a great job folding in those fun little reward moments for Buffy nerds. Also it gave us Anyanka as a yappy dog? I did not know I needed to hear Emma Caulfield Ford play a vengeance daemon as a tiny dog, but I am so glad this audio gave it to me.

I don't want to spoil too much of the story, but I very much had a blast listening to this, and would highly rec. it. As much as I really really really loved the ending and would love to read a million fics exploring what happens next in that universe, I am pretty sad that it is unlikely we will be getting the story the cliffhanger implies.

Truthfully I really hope this audio is not a one off and we can look forward to more Buffyverse audios in the future. Plus, who knows, maybe if they are successful enough even SMG may one day get involved (although I feel that really is a long shot).

[babblingtime]

Catching Up (A Dragon Prince One-Shot Fic)

Takes place sometime after Season 5 but before Season 6 (I’m assuming).

Summary:

Corvus struggles not only the fact that he has been put on mandatory bed rest in order to let his leg properly heal but the guilty and anxiety he’s been feeling following the start of a Civil War among the Sunfire Elves and King Ezran heading off to face the possible end of the world. General Amaya sets up a meeting so the two could talk about current affairs and Corvus is hopeful Amaya will lift the rest order.

Side note: I am not fluent in ASL by any means but I did try to include some direct translation of Amaya’s Dialogue in parentheses instead of just interpretations. If any of this is extremely inaccurate or it is just plan wrong feel free to let me know!

Corvus anxiously sat at his table, nails tapping against the wood as he waited for General Amaya. She had set up this meeting today and he was hoping she’d give him the all clear to get back to work. A restless feeling had started stirring deep in him, and it make the tent feel eerily quiet.

After living in Katolis for so long he had gotten used to the noise and bustle of a city and as much as he missed camping and sleeping underneath the stars he couldn’t find it in himself to enjoy this.

Light foot steps caught Corvus’s attention, his back went stiff as he turned to the tent’s entrance. Amaya emerged through the flaps holding two cups. She was wearing causal clothes much to his surprise.

Corvus scrambled to try and stand to address the General properly but she quickly shook her head, motioning for him to sit back down. So he did.

The smell of tea hit him as Amaya approached offering him one of the cups.

Corvus signed ‘thank you’ then pulled the cup into his hands taking a quick sip. For just a moment he allowed himself to feel relaxed by the smell and comforting warmth. The tea wasn’t too sweet, which was a relief.

Both Ezran and Soren are such big sweet tooths, dousing their respective drinks in honey and sugar to the point they might as well eat a cup of sugar with a side of tea.

Corvus frown at the thought of the two, the brief comfort of the warm beverage fading as quickly as it came.

He could feel Amaya’s knowing eyes on him as she sat across from him. She tapped the table two times drawing his eyes up to her as she signed.

‘What’s wrong?’ (wrong what?)

Corvus’s frown deepened. What wasn’t wrong at this point?

King Ezran is down to one Crownguard as he travels across the globe, he’s stumbled upon a civil war, there is an ancient blood sucking vampire on the loose, Viren is out there somewhere doing gods knows what, the world may be ending soon, his leg hasn’t gotten any better, and to add insult to injury Amaya has ordered him to be on bed rest for the week.

He felt completely and utterly trapped.

With a heavy sigh Corvus set down his drink to properly sign. He was embrassed to admit that his signing has gotten slow as it had been a while since he used it regularly, but Amaya was patient and luckily his interpreting seemed to still hold up.

“I guess…everything?” Corvus started then continued at Amaya’s ‘go on’ gesture.

“So much is going on all at once and it’s a bit overwhelming. I mean a week ago I was with King Ezran and Soren preparing for a speech in a meeting full of dragons and now I’m here.” He elaborated.

Amaya gave him an understanding look and leaning back in her chair.

‘A lot has happened hasn’t it?’ (Much has happen, yes?) She agreed scrunching her face.

‘A few days ago I was planning my wedding but now…’ (Few days ago, wedding planning, but now…) Amaya didn’t finish but the insinuation was enough as her shoulders slumped.

A tense silence fell over them.

‘Let’s start one at a time.’ (Us start one at time.) she suggested leaning forward.

‘How is your leg feeling?’ (How your leg feeling?) She motioned to his crutch that rested next to him.

Corvus tensed at the question, his hand instinctively moving to his injured leg. The doctor had told him how lucky he was that from a fall like that he managed to escape with only broken bones but he doesn’t feel particularly lucky.

“It’s getting better.” He lied, taking another long sip of his tea.

That night in the bookery he had been so scared.

He remembers vaguely hearing Soren and Ezran yell his name after his fall but his vision was blurry and pain was shooting through him in intense waves. By the time his eyes focused he came face to face with an infected banther.

Had it not been for Amaya he would’ve easily been taken out. She had managed to drag him into the safety of a book drop, the angry roaring outside was deafening and the metal box was hot but at least they had been safe.

The pain he felt was excuraiting but Amaya comforted him, taking his scarf and ripping apart a few books to craft a makeshift leg splint.

It felt like years waiting for daylight to return and when it was finally safe he felt terrible slowing Amaya down as she aided him in walking.

Sometimes he wonders if he hadn’t been so injured maybe Amaya would’ve made it in time to stop her Fiancé from being kidnapped and stop this civil war from spiraling out of control so quickly.

‘I know that face.’ (That face I know.) Amaya signed, pulling Corvus from his thoughts.

‘That’s your ‘I feel guilty face’.’ (Your feel guilty face). She punctuated her words by folding her arms and giving him a disapproving stare.

So she noticed.

Corvus wasn’t too surprised it was hard to slip anything past the General. She’s run a tight ship with her troops for a long time not much can escape her. Not to mention he was exactly being subtle about his mood.

‘We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but, it could be good?’ (You don’t need talk if no want but, but maybe good?).

For a moment Corvus considered letting this conversation pass, maybe if he pretended he was feeling well enough she’d lift his bed rest order.

But he just felt defeated.

So with a slow breathe he started to speak and sign along.

“I feel like I’ve failed. I went on this mission to keep King Ezran safe and accompany him through Xadia, but all I was able to do for him in the end was carry a box. And I can’t even be much help here cause of this.” Corvus scowled at his leg bitterly.

Amaya sneered at that, narrowing her eyes and raising an eyebrow while throwing her hand up in exasperation.

‘Carry a box? You helped Ezran summon the Arc Dragon of the Ocean. She hasn’t been seen in many years. You three held a meeting with Dragons of all kinds. And you made sure he stayed safe for as long as you traveled with him through Xadia. That isn’t failure.’ (Carry Box? You help E call Ocean Dragon. Many years not seen. Three you, met with all kinds of dragons. And kept little king safe whole time you travel. That not Failure.)

Corvus opened his mouth to protest but Amaya raised her hand to silence him.

‘I’m not done.’ (Not done.) She warned with a glare before continuing.

‘All this time you’ve been a trusted and loyal friend to King Ezran. When Viren overthrew him who gathered our allies and saved us in The Battle of the Storm Spire?’ (Whole time you loyal and trusted friend to King E. When Lord V overthrew, who gathered help at Battle Storm Spire.)

Corvus didn’t say anything but pointed to himself. Amaya nodded satisfied.

‘Exactly. Besides, Ezran is not alone. Soren is strong, reckless, but strong. He will keep Ezran safe. And here, we will be okay. Me, Gren, and Janai can figure this out. But right now you need to take care of yourself.’ (Exactly. And E not alone. S-N strong. Reckless. But strong. Will keep E safe. Me, G, and Queen J will figure this out. But now you take care yourself).

Her hands slowed and she offered a warm smile to Corvus.

‘Corvus. You know that…’ (C. You know…) Amaya paused and placed her left hand over his to emphasize her next few words. She folded her right hand into a soft fist sticking her thumb out to her stomach and tracing a line up to her chest.

‘I’m proud of you.’ (I proud you).

Corvus felt a lump in his throat.

“Thank you General.” Amaya shook her head.

‘I tell you this as a friend. No longer as your General. If I recall you’re a Crownguard now’ (I say as friend. No more your General. Your Crownguard now.) She smirked.

Corvus chuckled shaking his head.

It has been two years since he sent word to General Amaya and Commander Gren about his promotion and relocation to Katolis Castle and yet he still viewed them as his superiors.

Two stomps from the doorway caught Corvus’s attention, when he turned to face the entrance Amaya followed his gaze. Gren stood there, both hands holding two small plates of various Xadian fruits as if summoned by the mere thought of him.

“Come on you two, enough work talk.” He teased, striding over to place the platters on the table with a dramatic flourish before taking a seat between them.

“I think we all deserve a little catching up time.” Gren suggested popping a few honeyburst grapes into his mouth. Corvus himself reached for a star plum realizing this meeting was not at all going to be formal.

The conversation drifted to how Corvus has been spending his free time at the castle; learning to write sheet music, reading up on Xadian recipes, horseback riding, and over all spending as much time as he could exploring the forest just outside of the castle.

Amaya even teased him for his nice new clothes and how cushy the castle life must be. He was about to explain how Soren had dragged him on a trip to a Tailor couple when a thought came to him as her remembered the married couple.

“Oh Amaya!” Corvus turned to her in earnest feeling a little more like himself after their light conversations.

“Congratulations on your engagement, I realize I never said that.” He said apologetically, quickly adding a signed ‘sorry’ at the end of it. `

Gren laughed before Amaya could respond.

“You should’ve seen the proposal, Amaya nearly took out one of the dancers! She thought it was a ambush.”

Playfully she smacked his arm and quickly defended herself.

“A strange group of people emerged from the woods wielding flaming whips and surrounded me! What else was could it be?” (Group strangers came from woods with fire whips and surround me! What else could be?) They all laughed as Gren excitedly explained how he and Janai planned the whole surprise.

Corvus was happy to just listen trying to imagine the scene. A small part of him felt bad he hadn’t visited before conflict broke out but he also hadn’t realized how much he missed Amaya and Gren until now.

‘How about you?’ (And you?) Amaya suddenly asked pointing to Corvus and earning a confused head tilt from him.

‘Are you seeing anyone?’ (Seeing someone?)

The knight jolted at the question, eyes going wide for a moment unsure of how to respond. He didn’t why he was hesitanting, he wasn’t seeing anyone.

“Oooo there is!” Gren teased only making Corvus squirm more.

“There isn’t.” He defended but it was too late both Amaya and Gren were staring at him expectantly wearing matching smirks.

Nervously Corvus fidgeted with his empty cup.

“I…haven’t really had time to think about it.” it wasn’t a lie, he really hadn’t. He wasn’t even sure if he even wanted to start seeing anyone, especially with everything.

‘Well, you have time now.’ (Well, you have time now) Amaya pointed out with a shrug before grabbing a Xadian orange to munch on.

Corvus considered this for a moment, but after a few seconds of silence Gren broke it.

“Well I think I have someone I’m interested in.” Amaya rolled her eyes with a smirk.

‘It’s Janai’s Knight isn’t it,’ (J’s Knight, right?) Then she begun to spell out his name ‘Naeem?’

Gren flushed in surprise stuttering his words.

“I uh- how’d you-“

“That one wasn’t hard to figure out. Honestly when I first arrived I assumed you two were together.” Corvus reported back. Even in the brief time he’s spent here he would catch the pair gazing at each other from across camp or lingering a bit longer with each other when they had be dismissed from duty.

Gren pouted as both Corvus and Amaya took their turn laughing at him and recalling moments they’ve caught Gren trying to ‘accidentally’ bump into Naeem during patrols or ‘casually’ bringing him some sweets.

“Alright fine, maybe I’m not the most subtle but I think when things calm down I might ask him out on a proper date.” He mused bouncing back from his embarrassment.

Before they could continue their conversation a deep voice called out.

“General Amaya. Commander Gren.” Gren and Corvus turned and Amaya followed their gaze.

A Sunfire Elf soilder stood there at attention, his face blank and serious.

“Queen Janai wishes to speak to both of you in her tent.” Amaya’s expression fell but she nodded.

Quickly standing up she addressed Corvus.

‘It was nice catching up. Let’s talk again tomorrow.’ (Nice catching up. We talk again tomorrow.)

Corvus was relieved to have an out of any more potential relationship talk but also disappointed she and Gren would have to go.

Carefully, Corvus used his crutch to aid him in standing up ignoring the pain that shot through his leg.

“I look foward to it.”

Gren gave Corvus a small hug before following Amaya out.

For a moment Corvus stood there in the middle of his tent, the silence returning once more, before making his way towards his bed to lay down. Staring at the ceiling he thought about Katolis, King Ezran, the council of Dragons, Viren and Claudia, and a Star trapped inside of a pearl.

Corvus rolled his head over to bury his face into his pillow.

He was really missing Soren for some reason too.

Bonus Queen Janai POV cause I can’t stop thinking about the grief of loosing your older sister then having your younger brother send an assassin to kill you:

In her tent Janai paced back and fourth. Usually when she was feeling this anxious she’d be able to disclose her worries in confidence with General Miyana but now…

Janai shook the thoughts from her head, she couldn’t afford to dwell on broken ties. There’s a lot of work to be done a lot of reinforcing trust and faith within her circle and community.

So far Karim hasn’t made a move but no doubt he is preparing his forces for a fight, right now though her priority is the Sun Seed. A wave of dread shot through her. If the seed was to be wasted now, it would be even longer till they could rebuild until they could get back to their full strength and start anew.

They need to find a way to steal it back before it can be abused. Luckily it pays to be a former Sunfire Knight whose Fiancé is a War General.

Without a word Janai motioned Naeem to follow her as she rushed out of her tent. Although the attack on her had been just a little over a week ago Naeem seemed to be recovering from his injuries just fine if not a bit slow. But his loyalty remained intact and for that Janai is relieved to have him by her side.

Janai knew that Amaya had set out a specific time to check up on Corvus, she had told her that she was worried about him since the young solider has a history of not doing well when cooped up inside.

Gren agreed with her sentiment saying Corvus always looked miserable on the days the majority of training was indoors.

She remembers Corvus but only briefly. After the battle was settled and the Queen of the Dragons rose from her slumber Soren had explained that he was the one along with High Priestess Opeli to go get help for the battle.

For that he had her respect although admittedly knew almost nothing else about him other than the fact that he, Gren, and Amaya all seemed close.

As they walked Janai glanced around to her subjects and remaining humans all who worked dutifully, but their faces are very solemn.

Doubt is coursing its way though her people and she couldn’t blame them. Their numbers have lessened, the sun seed has been stolen, and the blood moon huntress, a stain from their past, is among them once more.

At last Janai spotted the tent they assigned Corvus to. By request of Amaya it was relatively close to the medical hut.

Hopefully she wasn’t interrupting anything too important.

But before she could walk in Janai froze at the tents opening, her ear twitched slightly at the sound of laughter from inside.

As silently as she could Janai parted a small portion the cloth door to peak inside.

The warmth inside the tent was a stark contrast from the energy she felt outside. The trio sat at a table, in front of them were platers of fruit that had been picked at.

Amaya and Gren were staring at Corvus who despite the subtle tired look in his eyes seemed to be telling a fun story.

They all looked so happy. Gathered around scrunched eyes full of joy and warm laughter, the kind that rumbles your chest.

A memory started to burn inside her mind.

Janai took a deep breath willing her thoughts to remain steady as she slowly lowered her hand to let the cloth fall back down. Silently she turned away from the tent, and walked away from it.

Naeem gave her a confused glance but said nothing, following in a brisk pace behind her.

Janai tried not to think of simpler times, tried not to remember the nights she and her siblings shared also eating fruits and flicking seeds at each other, or the comfort and smell of her old bedroom, or the times she easily chased Karim down during their games of Bannerman’s Run only to still lose to Khessa, or when her mother used to braid her hair and sing her songs.

The Queen sped up her pace, refusing to look at anyone they passed until finally she made it back to the safety of her tent.

“Your Radiance?” Naeem asked from the doorway but Janai couldn’t bring herself to face the knight.

“Leave me.”

Naeem hesitated for a moment before his shuffling footsteps left her ears.

Alone Janai sighed as she hung her head low, embarrassed to have had such a strong reaction to her fiancé sharing a tender moment with her friends.

Somberly Janai stared at the wax she saved from her sister’s soul candle, it rested in the center of her mantle place along with and a necklace Khessa used to wear and a few vases filled with yellow plumerias.

Every week she replaced the flowers there but she has fallen behind. The flowers wilted, fallen leaves and dried petals laid scattered along mantle.

Janai ran her fingers across Khessa’s last remaining wax.

“Oh Khessa…what would you do?”

[lolly-in-a-strange-land]

🖤only the dead know brooklyn🖤

A;N: please enjoy this one shot for meet me at midnight. It’s not canon and features Daisy as herself, and Josh as a vampire. This was definitely inspired by @allmoshnobrain and their amazing bonded by blood fic so go read that too.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

The Starbucks was full of people, but not the one person I had wanted to see. I had set my sketchbook down, finishing up a drawing of my iced coffee. It wasn’t the most exciting subject matter, but I had been sitting here for an hour, and I needed something easy to draw.

My goal, albeit a stupid and glaringly pointless one, had been to see if the guy I’d seen last week would show up again. Admittedly, I’d succeeded in humiliating myself last week when our eyes had met across the crowded Starbucks. I’d been in line and had looked around, searching for a subject. He’d been on a date and he’d looked away, eyes locking with mine.

His eyes had stolen the air from my lungs. They had been a deep, mesmeric blue; almost the color of the sky on a stormy day with sharp silvery undertones. Those eyes had traveled down my body and snapped back to my face. I’d picked the stellar moment to drop my backpack when the girl behind the counter attracted my attention.

I’d scrambled to pick it up and when our eyes met again, his gaze had been playful and he’d been smirking at me. It was a look that made every nerve ending in my body sizzle, but it could have been that he found it pathetic that I’d been staring at him like a lovestruck moron.

I’d ordered my drink and risked another glance. His date was still talking, but his eyes were still on me. He’d leaned his head back to observe me. She, his date, had reached across and jabbed his arm with her hand, saying something to him in a furious whisper. I guessed that was a fair thing to do. They were probably a couple and I’d feel pretty distraught if my boyfriend stared so blatantly at another girl.

I’d sat in the corner, sketching and feeling both guilty and dejected. When I looked up again, they’d gone and I couldn’t help, but feel a little sad, especially considering the fact that I’d drawn him and wanted to give him the sketch. From my angle, I’d caught his side profile.

I’d analyzed the sketch; from the side his jawline was sharp and his nose was aquiline. He’d been looking at his date then and my gaze went to his eyes. They had a slight downward tilt to them, giving him a look of perpetual boredom. All those beautiful features were surrounded by hair so thick and curly, and I’d never seen hair like it.

I’d bought the sketch with me today, tucked inside my sketchbook with a note, but he hadn’t shown up. I’d been coming back to Starbucks for the past week and he hadn’t shown up again.

It was definitely time to give up. He wouldn’t be back and we’d likely never see each otheragain. I’d never know his name and he’d never know mine. Sighing, I finished my iced coffee and walked to work.

I’d been working at IHOP for a couple of years in order to fund my college degree. I walked through the streets, looking at all the posters littering the brick walls. ‘Be safe, travel together.’

A few years ago, vampire attacks started to become something of a reality. Initially, there’d been a curfew and then a treatment. If you got the treatment in time, you wouldn’t become one of the undead.

Attacks still happened, but the fatality rate went down and the vampires hid themselves amongst our society, coming out at night to feed and lure in people desperate enough for eternal life. I got to work, greeting Marie and Desiree as I walked by. Desiree followed me, grinning broadly.

“So, spill it,” She said when we got to the staffroom. “Did he show? And did you sail off into the sunset?”

“No, he didn’t show up,” I said. “I have the sketch and the note for him, but maybe I should just throw it away.”

“Dais, don’t throw it away,” Desiree insisted, folding her arms. “Try tomorrow. It’s the weekend, spend the whole fuckin’ day there.”

“If only,” I laughed. “I have an essay due and I need to organize which sketches I’m using for a final piece, and I need to clean my dorm room.”

“Girl, please,” She sighed. “Come outta your room a little. Have a movie marathon with me on Saturday night.”

“We’ll see,” I said, and she pouted. “I also need to run to the store and get the copic markers I ordered.”

“What an action packed life you do lead, Dais.” Desiree said, smirking.

“Plus isn’t Theo with you on Saturday?” I said, and she looked sheepish. “I don’t want to interrupt you guy’s date night.”

“Girl, c’mon.” She whined.

“I may make an appearance to steal some of your popcorn,” I smiled, and she finally grinned. “As long as it’s not salted.”

“Girl, butter all the way.” She said.

I dug into my backpack, removing my black apron and tying it around my waist. Desiree grabbed my nametag and swiped it down the machine for me, handing it to me. I took it, pinning it to my uniform and followed her to the busy restaurant.

The rest of the shift passed by in a blur of customers. At half ten, Marie flipped the sign to closed and locked the door. Desiree seated herself on a stool whilst Marie counted the money in the register. I was still mopping near the door. The skin on my neck prickled and I got that sense that I was being watched, that eyes were on me.

I stopped mopping and glanced outside. The streetlights were on and showered the sidewalk in dull, yellow light. I approached the booth near me, climbing in and staring out into the night. That feeling of being watched was still there, but I couldn’t see anyone out there. A chill passed down my spine. I glanced at the alleyway across from us and narrowed my eyes, trying to see into the inky darkness.

A hand landed on my shoulder and I yelped, turning to find Desiree behind me, smirking. I looked around at the alley again and the feeling had vanished.

“What’s with you, girl?” She asked.

“I-i dunno,” I admitted. “B-but it felt like I was being watched.”

“Probably a vamp,” Desiree shrugged then. “Eternal life must be borin’, they probably watch our lives like some kinda soap opera.”

“I-i guess.” I said, and shuffled out the booth.

Marie, Edna and Marcus the cook were waiting for us. We exited through the back entrance and Marie set the alarms and locked the door. Marcus and Edna went to his truck and they left.

Marie drove myself and Desiree back to our dorm. She parked outside and turned in the driver’s seat to regard us.

“Desi, I’ll see you bright and not-late tomorrow afternoon,” She said, and smirked when Desiree scoffed. “And Daisy, I’ll see you on Monday evening.”

“I make no promises about my lateness, or lack thereof.” Desiree said, and she giggled.

I opened the truck door and we both climbed out into the chill air. Marie drove away once the door was shut and Desiree and I walked across the darkened quad past the fountain. Eyes were on me again and I looked over my shoulder.

“Babes, if you’re freaked out, we could phone the cops,” Desiree said, and I looked at her. “Ain’t sayin’ they’ll do shit but it might put your mind at ease.”

“No, it’s stupid,” I said. “It’s probably just my imagination.”

“My grannie said it could be that ghosts are watchin’ you.” Desiree laughed.

We mounted the concrete steps and she swiped her key fob, pushing the door open. She went into her room, hugging me good night. I unlocked my dorm and walked in, shutting and locking the door again. I dropped my backpack by the bed and sat down. My eyes went to the window and I leaned over and drew the curtains. That helped a little.

Reaching down, I picked up my backpack and grabbed my sketchbook, opening it and picking up the sketch I’d done of mystery guy. I sighed and set the folded up portrait along with the note on my bedside table. I’d decide what to do with it in the morning.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

The next morning, I did promise myself I’d throw both the note and portrait away, but I couldn’t bring myself to so there they stayed. I spent my morning tidying my dorm like the neat freak I was, then I completed the essay.

At half twelve I rewarded myself with a McDonalds. I sat with my portfolio on the floor, eating warm fries and selecting the pieces for a final piece. Once I’d finished eating and sorted out all of that, I emailed the essay to my Art History tutor, David. I had a shower in the dorm bathrooms and traipsed back to my room.

I could have joined Desiree and Theo in the main lounge for their movie night with the other couples, but I felt like a third wheel, and I didn’t want to ruin their fun. Besides, Taylor would be there and she often enjoyed asking me intrusive questions. Daisy, why haven’t you kissed anyone yet? Aw, is it because you’re too boring? I bet you haven’t even held hands with anyone.

For her information, I had held hands with someone. Admittedly, it was Jared in fourth grade and he ditched me for the foreign exchange student.

I’d spent most of my Saturday being boring. I tied my blonde curls into a ponytail and dressed in my ugliest sweater and jeans. It was almost Halloween and as I left my dorm room, pumpkin decorations adorned the walls alongside posters for House of Horrors nights and themed movie nights.

It was approaching dusk as I left the campus, making the short walk to the art store nearby. I’d make it to the store and make it back in time, I hoped. Vampires usually started appearing around dusk, but mostly they stuck to night time. I got to the store ten minutes later, greeting Allan, the owner.

“Daisy, with minutes to spare.” He laughed.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “I got so busy. It’s just the markers, thank you.”

“Of course, lovely,” He said, and grabbed them off the shelf behind him. I paid and he slipped them into a paper bag, handing it to me. His eyes flicked to the street behind me, “Did you need a lift home, Daisy. It’s getting dark earlier and earlier.”

“No, it’s only a ten minute walk.” I replied, smiling.

That weird feeling of being watched was gone. I realized it was a fluke and that I was definitely too boring to watch. I thanked Allan and left the store as the streetlights came on. I walked as quickly as I could, turning onto the same block as the dorms when I noticed a couple of figures walking towards me.

They may have been human, but even from here, I could see they were deathly pale. They were dressed like it was the 18th century and they spotted me before I could flee.

“You lost, beautiful?” One of them asked, and I backed up.

“We could guide you home.” The other grinned, showing off those sharp canines.

I didn’t want to interact with them, especially given how dangerous vampires were. My heart rate picked up and I was sure they could smell the fear coming off me in waves. I backed up again, hoping my legs would work so I could run. Before I could sprint away, the first moved, grabbing me and dragging me into an alleyway.

I squealed and struggled, dropping the copic markers. They were cackling like hyenas and my adrenaline levels spiked as I tried to escape. I didn’t want this to be how I died. I didn’t want to be turned into a vampire. I was slammed into the damp alleyway wall, and the air escaped my lungs in a sob.

“You’re a pretty, little thing, aren’t you?” The vampire grinned.

“P-please, don’t.” I begged.

What was I pleading with? Vampires lacked any kind of humanity. Once they were turned, that was it. The human side of them was gone, replaced with something wholly unnatural. The vampire laughed at my pointless begging. He turned to his comrade, who was gone.

“‘Ey Damien, I love it when they plead.” He cackled, and waited. The only sound in that alleyway was my sharp breaths, punctuated by sobs. “Damien, you fuck. Where are you?”

Had his friend left? I was still going to be killed so the fact that his friend had ditched him, didn’t really help me. I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to watch. It was completely cowardly, but I was terrified. Hands grabbed me, yanking me back and I opened my eyes. The vampire had backed up a little and was glaring at the person holding me.

“A newborn.” The vampire snapped. “I saw that human first.”

Newborn vampires were the ones just turned. They were usually the most bloodthirsty and dangerous, although that wasn’t an apt comparison given just how dangerous vampires were.

“No, you didn’t,” A voice, baritone, with a heavy Brooklyn accent. “This one is mine.”

Yeah, this wasn’t the ideal position to be in. I wondered who would get to devour me first. I took a shaky breath. I, at least, needed to see my ‘savior’ so I tilted my head back. My eyes widened.

Mystery guy was behind me. His sharp silvery blue eyes were locked on the other vampire, gaze set in a dangerous glare. One of his arms was wrapped around me and if this had been last week, I would have jumped for joy.

“Fuck it, fine,” The other vampire sneered. “The bitch is yours. Have fun dyin’ human.”

The vampire left the alleyway and I realized I’d gone from one dangerous situation to another.

My eyes went from the entrance to the alleyway and up to the vampire holding me.

“Hi, mystery girl,” He said, and my mind short circuited. “Aren’t you a little too smart to be wanderin’ around this close to dusk, little mouse?”

Evidently, I wasn’t and my brain chose this moment to drop out of my ear. He was even more beautiful up close. Those intense eyes were locked on me and he smirked, quirking his lip slightly to reveal a hint of fang. And why did I suddenly blush?

“You…you’re a vampire?” I said, pulling away from him and putting space between us.

“Yeah, that’s a recent development,” He said, stepping one step towards me. “My ex bit me. I mean, she wasn’t a vampire when we were together initially.”

“O-oh.” I said, softly.

The thought of him being around another girl made me irrationally and unfairly jealous because who was I to have those sorts of feelings? We’d locked eyes in a Starbucks. I should thank him and leave. Little was known about vampire relationships, apparently they had mates and stuck with them for a while so that answered the question of whether he’d be interested in me.

“T-thank you for saving me,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself protectively. “T-this answers the question of why you didn’t come back to Starbucks.”

“Did you go there and wait for me?” He asked.

“Y-yeah, I did,” I said. “It sounds stupid, I guess. You were with your girlfriend.”

“That wasn’t my girlfriend,” He said, smirking. “She was a blind date set up by my friend, Peter.”

“O-oh,” I said. “Well, your ex turned you so I guess you’ll be going back to her.”

“Wrong again, little mouse,” He said, and he stepped closer again. “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you. Took me a while to find you, though.”

The implications behind that set in. He’d been the one watching me. I blinked rapidly, too stunned to speak and that same teasing smirk appeared on his face. Technically, humans could have relationships with vampires if both parties wanted. It wasn’t frowned upon, apart from by religious groups, but most people accepted it as something that would happen.

Did I still like him even though he was essentially something wholly dangerous and not human?

Yes, of course I did. I was aware that my emotions played out on my face and he tilted his head, observing me. What would Desiree do? Invite him into the dorm? Was that a bad idea?

“My name’s Daisy Rose Parker.” I said, giving the vampire my full government name.

“Josh Silver.” He replied, and he stepped closer again.

If I ran now, would he chase me? And how quickly would he be able to catch me? Vampires were fast, inhumanly so. A thrill went down my spine. I avoided his eyes, staring at my sneakers.

“Y-you could come to my dorm with me? If you wanted,” I said, then added. “Y-you don’t have to.”

“Invitin’ me in so soon, Daisy?” Josh said, and my face went red.

“I-i don’t mind that you’re a vampire,” I said. “There are worse things to be.”

“Worse than bein’ a vampire, little mouse?” He asked.

“Yeah, you could be the person that takes the last pink glazed donut from the box.” I said, and I peeked at him. He exhaled a laugh at that and I felt a prickle of delight that I’d managed to make him laugh.

“Lead the way then.” He said.

I back stepped and he smirked again, walking towards me. Walking backwards felt like stupid idea because it was stupid idea.

“I’m not gonna attack you, Daisy,” He said, sighing. “I have no intention of hurtin’ you.”

“J-just making sure.” I said, and turned, heading out the alleyway.

We walked side by side down the street. Me, internally panicking; him, completely calm, hands jammed into the pockets of his green jacket. What the heck was I thinking? I glanced at him. He was staring at some vampires across the street, glaring at them. They slunk back into a nearby alleyway. I could run now, but a part of me didn’t want to.

My staring was cut short when he noticed me looking. I looked away, pretending to be amazed by a nearby wall. My cheeks burned and I felt like an idiot. The quad was dark and a few people hung around in groups, smoking and talking. We climbed the steps and I scanned my fob, pushing the door open. I glanced around at my vampire companion.

“H-how do I do this?” I asked.

“You invite me in, Daisy.” Josh replied.

“Ok, I-i formally invite you inside,” I said. “I-inside this dorm here.”

“Very eloquently put, little mouse.” He said, and climbed the steps, walking past me.

His scent invaded my senses; tobacco, weed and something that smelled like dead leaves. I followed him, taking the lead again and unlocking my dorm door. I pushed open the door and he followed me inside. The door shut and we were alone. I was alone with a vampire because I really liked said vampire. How many people were as moronic as me?

“M-make yourself at home.” I said.

He looked around, sharp blue eyes scanning the room. He walked towards my wall of art, pieces that I’d pinned to the wall, things that I was proud of. I stepped next to him.

“I-i drew these.” I said.

“I figured.” He said, and I blushed, feeling like an idiot. “You’re really talented, Daisy.”

“T-thank you,” I said. “D-did you want a drink?”

“A drink.” He said, and his eyes left the art, landing on me.

Josh’s gaze went to my neck and a fresh wave of shivers went through me. He was staring at me like he wanted to devour me.

“Y-yeah, wait here,” I said. “I-i need a drink.”

I rushed out the room and power walked to the main lounge, opening the fridge and grabbing a Pepsi.

“Hey, Daisy,” Taylor said, leaning over the couch. “Having a break from being boring.”

I rushed back to my room. Why did she have to be so awful to me? I opened the door. Josh was seated on my bed and my blood pressure skyrocketed. He’d picked up the note and sketch from my bedside table. Those intense eyes lifted and he pinned me with a coy look.

“You drew me, little mouse.” He said.

“Y-yep, sorry.” I said.

“I’m not pissed off,” He said, chuckling. “The note is cute. In answer to your question in said note, yeah I’d like to go for a coffee with you sometime.”

“Y-you would?” I squeaked out.

“I wouldn’t agree to it if I didn’t want to, Daisy.” He said.

I set the can of drink on my desk. I wanted to get a little closer to him. He set the note down on my bedside table. I was about to take another step closer when he leaned his head against his hand. A low growl left him and I felt panic rise in me. Yeah, this was a bad idea.

“J-josh, are you ok?” I asked, still wanting to help him.

“I need to feed,” He said, and I could hear my heart in my ears. “I should go.”

“Y-you could…um…f-feed on me.” I said, and his gaze lifted.

“I want to, Daisy,” He said, and his gaze darkened, pupils blown wide as he stared at me. “Fuck, I really want to.”

“I-it’s fine,” I said, stepping closer. “Just be gentle.”

“Do not get any closer, Daisy,” He said, and I paused. “I can smell you and I want it so badly.”

“I-it’s fine, honestly,” I insisted, and I stepped closer again. He was still watching me, eyes on my neck. “I-i just want to help.”

He growled again, a low sound that made my skin prickle with heat. He watched me for any signs of resistance. I stepped closer again and he reached for me, pulling me fully into his personal space. I trembled when his fingers grazed the juncture where my shoulder and neckmet. His other hand pressed against my lower back then moved around to grip my waist. His hand was huge with long, elegant fingers. His lips brushed against my neck and I gasped at the shock of it. He kissed my shoulder, pressing kisses up towards my neck, lingering against the spot under my ear. My breathing stuttered out in another gasp. He hummed against my skin, seemingly enjoying touching me.

“Smell so good, little mouse,” He murmured, tugging my earlobe with his teeth, making me gasp again. “Bet you taste just as sweet.”

“J-josh.” I whispered, whimpering pathetically when he bit me gently.

He didn’t break the skin yet, just nipped at my skin teasingly. I tilted my head, allowing him access. He moved the neckline of my sweater and then he bit me properly. A ragged gasp left my parted lips as he fed from me. My eyes rolled back and I lifted my hands, clinging to him. He groaned, pulling back eventually. I lifted my eyes and my face went red again.

His lips were slightly redder where he’d been feeding and a trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. His eyes met mine again, that same hungry look in his eyes. The hand near my neck lifted and gripped the back of my neck. Was he going to kiss me? His eyes went to my lips and that same teasing smirk appeared.

And then his lips were on mine. And I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t kissed anyone yet and I panicked. When I didn’t respond, he pulled back, pinning me with that hungry look.

“Not gonna kiss back, Daisy.” Josh said.

“This is totally humiliating and you can laugh if you want, but I’d like it if you maybe didn’t,” I rambled. “I’ve not kissed anyone before and all the tutorials I’ve read online don’t really explain it very well…”

Josh’s hand moved, thumb pressing to my lips, stopping me mid ramble. He smirked again when I blushed again.

“Shush, little mouse,” He murmured. “Calm blue ocean. Just copy what I do.”

“Understood.” I said when his thumb left my lips.

He leaned in again, pressing his lips to mine. His lips moved languidly and I copied him, returning the kiss. We pulled apart and I stepped back a little when he unzipped his jacket, removing it and tossing it to the end of the bed. His arms were covered in tattoos, beautiful dashes of color against his pale skin.

“Starin’ at me, Daisy.” He said, and my eyes lifted.

“I like your tattoos.” I said, leaning a little, trying to take in all the different tattoos. He had a red flower on one side of his neck and Chinese writing on the other side. “What does the Chinese writing mean?”

“Death, little mouse.” He said.

“Oh, how cheerful.” I giggled.

“Yeah, I’m known for bein’ cheerful.” He said.

“Really?” I asked, and he laughed.

“No, never.” He said.

I smiled and our eyes met again. He leaned closer, lips lingering on mine, then he was kissing me again. I responded, returning the passion. His tongue pushed past my lips, exploring my mouth. I held onto him, whining into the kiss. He was a good kisser and I wanted to stay like this forever, but for me, air was a necessity. I pulled back first. His hand lifted from my waist, gripping my wrist, pressing kisses to the skin. My skin prickled with warmth. He was watching my reactions.

“Feels nice.” I whispered.

“Yeah, your skin is so soft, Daisy,” He murmured. “Not to sound arrogant, but can definitely tell you like me touchin’ you.”

“R-really? How?” I asked.

“I can smell you,” He replied, and his eyes met mine. “I can keep goin’ if you want.”

“I-i mean…I would like to,” I replied. “You don’t have to feel obligated to touch me. I’m kind of boring.”

“You’re not boring,” He replied. “And I would like to touch you, don’t fuckin’ doubt that.”

“G-go slow, maybe,” I suggested, trying and failing to look him in the eyes. “I-i’ve never….”

“We have all night, little mouse,” He said. “We can do whatever you want to do. If you want me to fuck you then I can, if you want to do somethin’ else, we can. I won’t do anythin’ without your consent.”

“Then I give my consent,” I said, feeling awkward. “P-please touch me.”

He smirked again, revealing one of those sharp fangs. And then he was kissing me again, moving his lips against my own and I responded. His hand pressed against my back, prompting me closer. I straddled him, clinging to him. I’d never been in such an intimate position before. I whimpered into the kiss, enjoying it. Our lips parted, but we stayed close. His lips found my neck, kissing the wound where he’d fed from me.

“So fuckin’ beautiful.” He growled.

I giggled because I really wanted to deflect the compliment, but it sounded like he genuinely thought I was beautiful. He moved me easily until we were on the bed. He braced himself on his arm so he was hovering above me. Our lips met again in another passionate kiss. My hand found his hair and I could barely contain the joy. I had thought about touching his hair since the moment I’d first seen him. We pulled apart again and our eyes met.

“Hi.” I said.

He smirked at that, like my awkwardness was amusing. He sat back and I thought maybe I’d upset him. He beckoned me forward so I sat up. His hands gripped the hem of my sweater, lifting it over my head and tossing it to the floor. I felt the urge to hide from that intense look in his eyes. He gripped his own t-shirt, removing it and tossing it on top of my sweater.

The tattoos weren’t isolated to his arms. He had a yokai tattoo on his chest, just under his clavicle. The letters ‘FTW’ were tattooed above his bellybutton. He was so skinny. His waist was narrow, tapering down into elegant hips. My eyes flicked up to meet his.

“It’s ok to look, Daisy,” He said, and I nodded. “I want you to look.”

He was on me again, lips finding my own in a bruising kiss. He didn’t hold back this time and I didn’t want him to. His lips left mine, moving down my neck towards my collarbone, pressing kisses to it. His left arm slid under my waist, arching my back close so he could get to my breasts. I felt his fingers brush against my bra cups, lowering one of them.

“J-josh.” I whimpered, and his eyes lifted, finding my own. “S-sorry they’re small.”

“Daisy,” He murmured, and I smiled. “Don’t worry so much.”

“B-but they are small,” I insisted. “And Taylor says..”

“Who the fuck is Taylor?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

“A girl in my dorm,” I said. “She makes fun of me a lot. I dunno why.”

“Forget what she said,” He replied, and my eyes met his. “I’m tellin’ you that I like what I see.”

He shifted, grinding his hips against me, letting me feel him. My brain stalled when I felt something very hard press against me. His lips moved down and a sharp moan left my lips when his tongue teased around my nipple. When I offered no resistance, his arm around me pulled me closer. And he sucked at my nipple, drawing more cries from me. His other hand lifted, pulling my other bra cup down. His fingers found my nipple and he pinched it between his thumb and index finger. Pleasure surged through me. My back arched even more into the touch.

“J-josh…ah.” I gasped.

His tongue flicked my nipple, swirling around it. My hips moved, pressing against him, seeking friction. He returned my clumsy movements. Josh’s lips left my breast, lips lingering against my skin.

“Like that, Daisy?” He asked.

“Y-yeah, so much.” I replied.

“Can tell by your little moans,” He murmured, intense gaze on me. “Taste so good, little mouse.”

He leaned down again and flicked the nipple with his tongue again. My head tipped back and a sharp moan left my lips. When my back arched again, I felt him undo the clasp on my bra. He pulled back, removing it and throwing it across the room, then latching back onto my breast. A shudder went through me. He kissed down my breast and his fangs scraped against my skin.

“J-josh.” I whispered.

“Need to taste you, Daisy.” He growled.

I nodded and gasped again when he bit into the skin on my breast, feeding on me. My eyes rolled back as I surrendered myself to it. It felt really good when he fed on me, almost euphoric.

Josh’s mouth withdrew from my breast and he kissed me again, tongue pushing into my mouth, letting me taste my own blood.

I made a little sound of pleasure and the kiss deepened. We pulled apart, but he stayed inches from me, watching every emotion play out across my face. I wondered if being a vampire had heightened his perceptions. He shifted to sit back on his knees, and I felt the absence as he moved.

He started undoing the fly on my jeans, then started pulling them off. I assisted by raising my hips, and my jeans and socks were thrown across the room. The bed shifted when he lay down next to me. I yelped when Josh’s hand gripped my hip and he moved me so my back was pressed against his chest.

I looked down and a shiver went through me seeing his hand on my hip. He brushed the ends of his fingers along the skin of my stomach, making me tremble again. His hands were like ice and the contrast between my warmth and his cold was startling. His fingers continued tracing down my stomach, dipping past the band of my panties.

I could feel the cascade of nerves alongside the anticipation. No one had ever touched me down there so once his fingers teased along my bikini line, I tensed up, squeezing my thighs together. Josh noticed and his fingers withdrew a little.

“Talk to me, Daisy.” He said, and I took a shaky breath.

“N-never been touched down there before,” I whispered, voice breaking a little. “Scared it’ll hurt.”

“I promise you that it won’t hurt,” He replied. “Promise you’ll really enjoy it.”

“Arrogant.” I giggled.

“Yeah, because I’m pretty certain you’ll love everythin’ I do with you, Daisy.” Josh replied.

I took a shaky exhale, untensing my legs and allowing his hand to slide down, fingers dipping into me, finding me soaked. A shockwave of pleasure went through me when he started moving his fingers within me. He wasn’t lying when he said it would feel good, it felt really good. I parted my thighs a little more, gasping when his fingers pressed deeper.

“That’s it, good girl.” Josh murmured, and his lips found my shoulder, kissing the skin.

My head tilted, giving him more access. His left arm moved, sliding under me so he could grip my throat with his hand. I gulped and he pressed a little harder. His fingers were still moving within me, pressing against something in me that desperately craved friction.

“J-just there.” I whined.

“Yeah, right here.” He said, angling his fingers again and hitting that spot within me.

A moan left my lips and my hips bucked against his hand. I felt him smirk against my neck.

Something was building in my lower stomach and it felt so intense. My moans were coming out as desperate squeals. I lifted my arm, draping it over his shoulder. Just as I was approaching the release of that intense feeling, he stopped, fingers slipping out of me.

“N-no,” I whined, forgetting that he was a vampire for a nanosecond, and looking at him. “Y-you stopped. So mean.”

I bumped my wrist against his neck, like that would encourage him to continue. I saw the flash of annoyance in his eyes and the hand on my throat moved around, gripping my wrist whilst his arm pressed against my throat again. His eyes met mine, sharp and dangerous.

“You keep doin’ that and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit down for a week, understand,” He growled, and I nodded. “I’m in charge, Daisy. You cum when I say so, understand.”

I nodded again and that teasing smirk appeared again. He shifted his arm, letting go of my wrist and holding my throat again. The hand in my panties moved down again and his fingers buried themselves in me again. I whimpered, taking a shaky breath and letting out a moan when he started moving his fingers again. I went to look away, but the hand on my throat kept me still.

He was watching my face, clearly enjoying seeing the pleasure as it passed over my face. His name left my lips on a breathy whine. I was beyond incoherent and desperate for release, but he seemed to be having fun teasing me. Just as I was approaching something tangible again, he stopped. I lifted my eyes to meet his, trying to implore him to continue.

“So needy.” He smirked, and my insides clenched.

“P-please.” I begged him.

“So responsive.” He said.

The hand on my throat angled my neck slightly and he started sucking a love bite onto my skin.

Josh’s fingers sank back inside, slightly rougher this time, thrusting into me and making me cry out. Liquid pleasure scorched through my veins and my moans pitched higher and my back arched. I’d never anticipated being touched like this would feel so good, but it did. And I didn’t want him to stop. I really hoped he didn’t.

“Like that, little mouse?” Josh said, and I nodded. Talking wasn’t something my brain could do right now.

“J-josh.” I gasped out his name.

He stopped again just as I was reaching that point of no return. I thought about protesting, but decided against it. My eyes met his again. He was watching me, eyes dark and hungry. I was sucking in lungfuls of air and my head felt like it was reeling. Josh shifted back and I felt the loss. He moved me again, making me lay on my back. I watched him move down the bed, eyes still locked on me.

“Raise your hips,” He said, and I did so, allowing him to remove my panties. “Good girl.”

He threw them over his shoulder to join the other discarded clothing. I felt very vulnerable given that he still had his jeans on. His hands gripped my thighs, parting my legs and he tilted hishead to get a good look at me. Did I look weird? The thought had never really crossed my mind, but being in this situation made that question dance through my mind on a loop. His hair grazed the bedding and tickled my thigh. What was he thinking? His tongue grazed his lips and I realized that he was definitely staring at me like he was going to devour me. The suspense was getting to me.

His eyes flicked back to my face and he lowered himself slowly so he was eye level with my core.

“P-please.” I pleaded.

“Shush, little mouse,” He murmured. “Patience is a virtue.”

His breath fanned my core and a gasp left my lips when he leaned in closer, dragging his tongue down my folds in a flat swipe. When I offered no resistance, he buried his face between my thighs, tongue thrusting into me. A sharp moan left my lips, echoing around my dorm room as he ate at me. It felt like I couldn’t breathe so I sucked in more air.

It really felt like he was devouring me and my back arched, rolling my hips against his mouth.

His name left my lips between squeals. Josh was still watching me, seemingly enjoying my reactions. My hips bucked again when his tongue pressed against something that made stars dance in front of my eyes. To remedy my constant thrashing around, he held my hips down and I was forced to take what he was willing to give me.

He thrust his tongue back in me and my head lolled back, more sobs leaving my lips. I was babbling pleas for him to let me release, but everytime I got close, he’d stop. He applied pressure to that bundle of nerves again, making me cry out. I was getting frustrated by this point and reached down to try and secure him. Apparently this wasn’t something I was supposed to do.

Josh pulled away from me and his hands left my hips and he was on me, pressing me into the bedding, pinning my arms above my head by my wrists. We were eye to eye and he smirked when I struggled against him.

“What did I say, Daisy?” Josh said, and I looked at him.

“N-not to..” I whispered.

“I said that you take what I give you,” He said, and I nodded. “Can’t have you grabbin’ at my hair, little mouse.”

I nodded again and he tilted his head again, analyzing me in a way that both unnerved me and sent little thrills through me. He looked away, noticing my bathrobe hanging on the headboard.

He kept my body pinned, grabbing the sash off it and using it to tie my wrists together. I was now his prisoner. And I realized that a second later I probably should have. Josh’s eyes met mine again.

“My little prisoner.” He teased, quirking his lip to reveal a slither of fang.

He pressed kisses to my neck, then moved down my body, kissing and biting my skin. I gasped when his lips found my core again, tongue thrusting back into me. My breathing deepened and I exhaled a moan. Something about being at his mercy served to make the heat between my thighs an inferno. He kept teasing me, keeping me on the edge of something tangible then pulling back.

All I could do was lay there, trembling and begging him to let me release. He moved up the bed again, holding the back of my neck so I’d look at him. His lips were damp with my juices and he leaned towards me, kissing me passionately, allowing me to taste myself. We pulled apart and he moved away from me.

I watched him stand up and unzip the fly on his jeans. The jeans and his socks joined the ever growing pile of clothes. He had long legs, covered in mousey brown hair. I had never stared so blatantly at someone before. His eyes flicked back to me and I blushed. And he was on the bed again, smirking at me.

“Caught you eyefuckin’ me, Daisy.” He teased.

“S-sorry.” I whispered.

“Don’t need to be sorry,” He said. “Like the way you look at me, and the way you blush so fuckin’ easily.”

He reached for me, pulling me like a ragdoll. My tied wrists settled in front of my body. Josh was sitting cross legged and he moved me to straddle him.

“U-untie me?” I asked, and he sighed.

“And do you think you deserve to be untied, Daisy?” Josh said, and I took a shaky breath.

I was about to reply when he started kissing my neck, gently nipping the skin. I whined and wriggled against him. His hands gripped my waist, then moved down, settling on my hips.

“Y-yes.” I finally managed to speak.

“And what will you do to prove to me you deserve to be untied, little mouse?” Josh said, and I gasped when he sucked a love bite onto my shoulder.

“A-anything.” I moaned softly.

“Anything.” He teased, and I nodded.

“J-josh.” I whined.

He gave my shoulder one last kiss, lingering there. I peeked at him and he bridged the gap between us, pressing a kiss to my lips. He was unpredictable, apparently. I let out a startled yelp when he moved, lying down on the bed. I shifted off him when he motioned for me to move. My eyes widened when he lowered his boxers, discarding them.

All the anatomy books in the world hadn’t prepared me for seeing him. He was fully erect, long, and the base was surrounded by wiry, brown hair. My eyes flicked away and he noticed, clearly finding my reaction amusing.

“C’mere, Daisy.” He murmured, and I shifted closer.

He used one hand to grip the base and the other to grasp my hair, using my ponytail to maneuver me. I struggled a little, panicked by the thought of taking all of him into my mouth.

“T-too big.” I whispered.

“Daisy,” He said, and I looked at him. His gaze was gentler now, softer. “Not all of it, little mouse.”

“N-never done this before.” I admitted.

“And that’s ok,” Josh said. “Take it slowly.”

The grip on my hair loosened a little, allowing me to move at my own pace. I leaned closer, parting my lips and taking him in my mouth. I sucked the end and heard him groan. I panicked a little then, and his hand gripped my ponytail again, keeping me there. The sound I’d thought was pain turned out to be pleasure. I kept sucking at him, moving my head up and down a little, trying out different things to see what reaction I’d get. I swirled my tongue around the tip and then sank down, taking him deeper.

“Ah, fuck, Daisy.” He groaned again.

The grip on my hair tightened and Josh’s hips lifted a little, almost making me gag. I pulled back a little, continuing to suck at him and swirl my tongue around him. I looked at him to make sure I was still doing it right. His head was tipped back, lips parted as he exhaled another groan. I sank back down on him again, taking him as deep as I possibly could.

“Fuck, good girl,” He groaned. “Just like that.”

I was enjoying doing this for him and I moaned as well, letting him know I liked it. His hips shifted again as he bucked into my mouth. This made me more determined and I kept moving my head up and down. I felt him twitch in my mouth and he yanked me back, stopping me from continuing.

“S-sorry.” I said, voice hoarse.

“No, don’t be sorry, Daisy,” Josh said. “Almost blew my load in your mouth.”

“Oh.” I giggled then.

“Yeah, and I want to be fuckin’ you when that happens,” He murmured, eying me hungrily. “Fillin’ that tight little pussy.”

My face went red again and he chuckled at my dumbstruck expression. He sat up and reached behind me, untying my hands. I followed when he moved me so I was lying next to him with my back against his chest again. He gripped my right leg, bringing it over his hip, opening me up.

His left arm wrapped around me again and his hand gripped my throat again.

I felt the pressure as he pressed himself against my core. I was about to have my first time with a vampire. And I found that I didn’t mind too much. He shifted me closer and sank further into me. I writhed against him, gasping and moaning. He pushed the rest of the way in, filling me to the hilt.

“J-josh.” I moaned.

“Fuck yeah,” He groaned. “So fuckin’ tight and wet.”

He gave me a second to adjust to being split open by him, and then he started moving his hips, thrusting into me at a steady pace. I cried out his name, begging him for something, but I wasn’t sure what. The grip on my thigh tightened and he sped up, pushing deeper into me, making my moans come out almost strangled.

“F-feels good.” I bleated out.

“Yeah, you like me fuckin’ you like this, Daisy?” He growled, and I nodded.

He kept hitting something within me that ached, that needed friction. I was incoherent, drunk on what he was giving me. I had never felt pleasure like it.

“D-don’t stop,” I whined. “P-please…oh my God.”

“Not gonna stop, little mouse,” He grunted. “You fuckin’ love this, my little fucktoy.”

Hearing him say that made my insides turn to mush. I whined his name again, definitely telling him that I did really love this. My back arched and my moans came out as wails. I was thankful most people were either down in the main lounge or out drinking.

Apparently he wanted me to answer properly.

“Answer me.” He growled.

“Y-yes, love it so much.” I whined.

He smirked against my neck and pounded into me, filling me in the most amazing way. That feeling of release surged forward again and I pleaded with him to let me. He bit me again, feeding on me and I loved it. I tilted my head, letting him, trusting him not to take too much. He stopped, pulling back, using the hand around my throat to force our eyes to meet.

“Open your eyes, Daisy,” Josh said, and I did so. His eyes were hungry and his lips were still covered in my blood. “Good girl. Let me see your face as I make you cum.”

His forehead leaned against mine and he rolled his hips into me, fucking me so thoroughly and making me moan loudly. He thrust into me a few more times, hitting that ache within me. The release hit me hard. My eyes rolled back and I felt myself float skywards. It felt like I’d blacked out. The pleasure rolled through my entire body like a tidal wave.

By the time I came back down to earth, I could feel the shockwaves of what remained of my release. Josh was still thrusting into me, hips snapping into me at a punishing pace. He leaned his head on my shoulder, grunting as he continued moving into me, seeking his own release. I was exhausted by this point, but tried to wriggle my hips to help.

“Fuck,” He grunted again. “Gonna cum.”

His hips thrust forward once more and I felt the heat of it as he came, filling me with it. He was still rocking his hips into me, riding out the release. He groaned out a few curse words along with my name. Eventually, his hips slowed until he finally stopped moving.

The afterglow was starting to fade a little now. What would happen now? We’d not even been on a date, and we’d made love, and that’s if he even considered it making love. I should probably say something, but I was too afraid to. I whined when he slid out of me and let my leg go. I should probably tear the band aid off now.

“J-josh?” I asked, and my stupid voice cracked. He definitely heard it because he moved me so I’d face him. There was nowhere to hide from those intense blue eyes.

“Daisy.” He teased.

“Y-you can stay if you want,” I said, softly. “O-or maybe you don’t want to. I totally get it if you don’t because maybe this is a one night thing, and I…”

He lifted his hand, pressing his thumb to my lips to stop me mid ramble. He was watching me, studying my nervous expression.

“Want me to stay, little mouse?” He asked, then moved his thumb, dragging it along my lower lip.

“I-i was sort of hoping you would,” I admitted. “I-i don’t want this to be a one night thing.”

“Then it won’t be,” He replied. “I’ll stay the night if you want. I can take you out on a date tomorrow night.”

“That sounds fun.” I replied.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I smiled at that. All the gentleness returned as he hugged me. It really didn’t matter that he was a vampire. All that mattered was that he was here with me.

[wcrstarter]

𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 // @llosgcariad

Time flowed like water, finding its way through the cracks and guiding her through the ages. She didn't closely monitor it, nor the date. She'd not realized what day it was, nor its significance. Few from her time, from her past, still drew breath in the modern world. It had been quite the shock to learn that someone she knew had survived, moreover that it was someone she still cared a great deal for. Time had calcified some of her pain, her trauma, and her feelings, but it had not dwindled her regard for Kiran.

"No, not in the slightest. I...I hadn't realized." She lets out a breath slowly, meeting his gaze and letting a beat of silence pass between them. Only one other had ever known her as well as Kiran did, her childhood friend though she dared not publicly address Lucian in such a way lest her father use him to hurt her and bring her in line--something that she hadn't had to fear with Kiran. A God and a Vampire, well over a century ago, had come to know each other. She thought it funny, how things had turned out. "I'd daresay there's fewer secrets between us now than there was before, and less need for subterfuge and conspiracy. It's a gift to be able to speak freely compared to then."

She wonders if she should find an anniversary gift, and deliver it late. But she cannot think of a single thing she could bestow, that he couldn't find for himself. A disadvantage of both their positions and immortality, giving gifts became incredibly difficult. She pours herself a glass of the wine, knowing that she'll face no judgement from Kiran when she draws out a silver flask from her coat, pouring the contents into the wine. Easier to imbibe if blood's mixed in, and a relief to not have to hide any aspect of her nature.

"Viktor for a time...was too nervous of loosing he alliance he so desperately wanted to retaliate against me." Sonja gave a sigh, swishing the mixed wine in the glass to aerate it a bit, unsure to say the words she needed to voice aloud, "He knew that I cared deeply about you, and was never sure...if he risked wrath if I were to be hurt. Luckily, I don't die easily and can be here again, with you once more."