#if you don't like garlic that means you're part vampire

[mamawasatesttube]

the one timkon vampire-adjacent thought i have (it's not really vampire au. just adjacent.) is this half-baked outsider pov future fic concept, in which kon is a childrens librarian (why is kon a children's librarian? simple. he would love to get the next generation into star trek: the next generation.) (but more seriously its bc i just think hes good with and likes kids. and also he likes stories and media. so. childrens librarian.) who runs a dnd group for middle schoolers twice a week after school.

the pov is one of the kids and the plot is the fact that over the course of the semester / the game campaign, they occasionally get to see mr. conner's husband (he has a lot of photos on his desk and on his phone), who is often dressed in red and black and also often looks tired and pale and has bags under his eyes. and they do slowly come up with the theory that mr. conner's husband is secretly a vampire.

key points include that they only discuss it when they think mr conner cant hear them and that he IS in the back room or his office or whatever giggling, because they have no idea he has superhearing. he's having a real lark of a time. he encourages it. he tells the kids his husband is such a weirdo, like who out there doesn't like garlic bread?? (tim, somewhere: i DO like garlic bread >:C stop lying!!) and he adds a npc to the campaign that's totally a vampire pretending to not be a vampire. every week he brings the updates to tim and has another giggle about it all over again.

the other part of this is that at some point tim and kon are cuddled up in bed and chatting before sleep and it comes up and tim's like. you know, the fucked up thing is if i WAS a vampire i wouldnt even be able to feed from you. you're invulnerable! i can't bite you! so id need like… a side hoe.

and kon gets SO offended. it's a whole comedy. like...

"what do you MEAN you'd need a side hoe!!! WE HAVE A RED SUN PROJECTOR RIGHT IN THAT DRAWER!!!" "yea but i mean how often would i need to eat? i know that depends on the vampire lore youre going with, but it could get pretty impractical to keep uncharging and recharging you." "YOURE MY HUSBAND. ID PUT UP WITH THAT." "but you're MY husband! would i really want to put you through that?" "YOU'D RATHER PUT ME THROUGH GETTING CUCKED?" "it's not ACTUALLY cucking you! it's just like. for food. nutritional cucking?" "NUTRITIONAL-- that's it. i'm going to sleep. good NIGHT. hmph." "are you pouting. stop pouting." "it's nutritional pouting. >:(" "that doesn't even make sense." "YOU don't even make sense." "...okay." "are you just going to sleep???" "aren't you? you just said good night!" "where is my good night kiss, timothy!!!!" "oh. i thought you didn't want one. you know, because you were nutritionally pouting." "you're making me really question wanting one, that's for sure." "heh." (mwah!) "okay. good night. sleep tight. don't let the bedbugs bite, and all that." "what, you wanna nutritionally cuck the bedbugs, too?" "oh my god."

[chainelunaire]

how we fight each other

gojo satoru

starts an argument unknowingly. he usually just says some random shit out of nowhere, which might leave you speechless. is ready to appologize if asked for, but rarely fully understands the reason behind. however, he doesn't like the tension, so he's willing to compromise. has a trauma regarding fighting with someone dear to him. during fight, is either calm and collected or relaxed and playful, which is somethimes infuriating. he might sound cruel (unintentionally, but it feels personal, bc of his sharp tongue). in general really doesn't like arguments, would like to avoid them at all but he sort of can't stop his mouth from spewing shit. most of the times he's pretty chill and peaceful, he doesn't just go around looking for someone to annoy (if you're not nanami, of course). fights with him are about stupid little things, mostly chores or something like that. he rarely engages in something serious, he refuses to and he will avoid it like a vampire avoids garlic. because of this behaviour, sometimes he might seem distant or secretitive, but he's really not. actually he's kind of a sweetheart, he never truly gets mad and feels bad after. he's usually the one to make a first move and make up. does not hold grudges, very forgiving, even if you really hurt him during a fight.

geto suguru

complete opposite. it's impossible to have an argument with him about something as stupid as who cleans the kitchen next, he won't engage and simply do it himself. will appologize for things he haven't even done, all in order to keep peace (mark that part). he won't let you to start a fight either, he's a great mediator. hates the idea that you are mad or upset with him, is very dependant on others opinion of him. takes time to understand your reasoning, is compassionate, and he's in general careful with words, so if it is an argument, it is for sure a serious one. he has some issues with anger managment and he feels weak if he feels anger, so he prefers to avoid conflict at all costs. he might go like that for literal weeks, if not months, until the bubble finally pops. it takes a lot for him to be truly angry and start a fight. he's taking it very seriously, even if he has that relaxed and cold demeanor. everything he says is very intentional, so if it hurts, do not second guess it - he wanted it to hurt. will remind you of everything he's done for you and hold it over your head (remember i told you that?). is the type to end relationship over one argument. he also holds grudges, even tho he refuses to acknowledge that.

nanami kento

actually, he's kind of easy to get into an argument with, but it's because he's usually very tired and therefore easily irritated. he doesn't like that part of him, when he lashes out. he prefers to avoid conflict until he literally can't anymore. he sounds more pained than angry, it feels like he's desperate and just wants it to end (he does want it to end). easily appologizes, each time genuine. he's also careful with his words even when he's angry, but unlike geto, he doesn't want to hurt you in the process. fights drain him out to an extent even sorcery can not. kind of willing take all the blame, if it means this all will end. could piss you off with his selflessness, because sometimes this could be something really important to you, and it feels like he would choose to end your relationship rather than listen to your complains. he wants to, he really does, but he rarely is able to do so bc of how worn out he is. however, when he's rested and has more clear mind, it's almost impossible to have an argument with him. he's perfectly able to talk things out calmly. just don't start anything when he's right back from work, please, and you'll be fine.

fushiguro toji

you would be surprised, but he's very difficult to have an argument with. mostly because of how absent he can be, when he senses trouble, and oh he senses it from very very far away. he'll be back when you cooled off and will play it off like it was nothing. very hard to corner, it's practically impossible to talk things through with him. but, if you somehow manage to do that, you will be surprised again at how calm and collected he could be. you want to talk about things - okay, he will, do not complain later, because he warned you. he's won't show any empathy towards you. everything he says is calculated and very rational, he's also has almost godly patience (thanks to his past with zenin clan, he can go very far with being the last sane person in the room). it doesn't even feel like an argument, it's very one-sided with you being hurt and him complitely unaffected. he's not even mad. if you want to say something, let it be something very logical and rational, so he can take it into account. otherwise, he simply won't listen. you want to hear his side - fine, perfect, but he won't compromise in any way if everything you have is just your emotions. he has his reasons to behave like this, it's either you accept it or you suggest something more effective (from his perspective of course). and don't cry. god forbid you start crying.

ryomen sukuna

another anomaly. even tho he's not easily pissed off, fights with him are frequent. not because of you, but because he enjoys to annoy the hell out of you just for fun. the more aggressive you get, the better. absolute win if you cry out of helplessness, since you can't physically shut him up. but he rarely means anything with all the shit he throws your way, it's mostly because he's bored. like gojo, he's usually chill and peaceful, when he's in a good mood - and he's rarely in a bad mood. however, unlike with others, he has a twisted mind, and he himself is a sadist, so his good mood doesn't really apply to yours. but, these are still some small petty fights, which are not even considered as such in his mind, it's more of a playful (almost loving, from his perspective) banter. when he's not bored (when he's somewhere near actual battlefield, for instance) he's very calm, dare i say, serene. when he's not mocking or teasing you, there's nothing to fight about. if you want to fight back and have your revenge, well, mostly likely you won't. to hurt him - to really hurt him deep inside - you need to be at least mentally on his level. he usually just laughs everything off, if notices at all. for him to listen to you takes a lot of effort from your side. your words won't sting if you can't see through him, and to do that you need to match his intelligence and share his worldview. the only way not to get hurt by him is when he respects you. and it's easier said than done.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Oh, the vampire au, it feeds my inner vampire phase as a kid, so thank you for this (also sorry if this a bit long)

I had the silly idea of Malt finding out that Kevin is, in fact, a vampire, but instead of doing the realistic thing and like running for the hills. Their just asking them questions, confused as ever because some of the things Kevin did just didn't add up. Cause their knowledge of vampires is the whole movies stuff, sleeping in coffins, can't touch garlic, silver, and wooden steaks are their worst nightmare, along with crosses. My thoughts were that over time and generation of vampires some of those weakness/habits would lessen to where it either completely gone or just a regular allergy (think of pollen season where you just sneeze a lot), mostly for the galic, cross and sleeping in a coffin.

So Malts' over here like "Wait, you're a vampire? but you always eat my spaghetti, and I put loads of garlic in it. Not to mention you sleep in a regular bed, not a coffin, I mean sure you do that cross thing over your chest with your arms, but I thought that was because you like pressure on your chest to sleep? Also, don't ask why I know what you look like when you sleep. We'll never get to the other questions first"

That makes sense!

Most vampires adapted over the centuries and eons, usually only having a small allergy to things like silver or garlic or salt water, but a lot of them aren't even affected by it anymore. They do sometimes sleep in coffins, but prefer a group nest when they can, and tend to live in a coven that takes care of its own.

Reader saw Kevin asleep, and that's because Kevin passed out on their mattress, so Reader had to take the couch for the day. They slept pretty well, despite waking up with a bite mark and feeling a little sluggish...

If Reader found out Kevin was a vampire, they take a minute, then ask if they're sure... Kevin is pretty sure, and points out they're part of a coven, who have wanted to meet Reader for awhile...

Reader is surprised about all of this, but decides to roll with it for now...

So...

What coven did Kevin say they were part of?

[podcastenthusiast]

(Little fic set during the first Long Rest. Astarion experiments with the new limits of his vampiric nature. It goes badly and Tav helps.)

Now on ao3

The atmosphere at camp that first night is fraught with worry and uncertainty, everyone reeling from the recent trauma. Reminds you of home, really. You know a thing or two about sharing space with the only handful of people in this world going through the same horrid experience as you.

Now here you all sit sharing a meal together, too. Or, well, they are.

"Something wrong, Astarion? You're not eating."

The half-orc is looking at you with suspicion—no, with concern. They are all looking at you. Then this is your cue. Time to put on a show. Play your part.

"Well," you sniff haughtily, "to be honest, this is hardly the caliber of cuisine I'm used to. No offence meant, darling."

"None taken; Gale cooked."

"And I did my best with our severely limited provisions, thank you very much. Sorry it isn't up to your standards, Astarion."

You conjure distant memories of decadent meals as unreal to you now as the forgotten color of your own eyes. Can't have anyone sneaking a peak into your mind through your shared connection and seeing blood and vermin--your usual sustenance.

"Even so, please try to eat something," she insists.

"Why? To build team camaraderie? I can think of far more exciting ways to get better acquainted."

"We all need to keep our strength up," she says. "For the journey to that cure Lae'zel spoke of."

Maybe I don't want a cure, you almost snap. But that wouldn't align with the image you've woven for them of a carefree magistrate who must have a comfortable life in the city worth returning to. They cannot know the truth. At least not until they trust you enough to tolerate a monster in their midst. Until you've proven yourself more useful alive.

So you regard the stew warily. Hunger gnaws at your gut, never sated, but only for blood. Still... After a full day in glorious sunlight, perhaps you could decide to push your luck just a bit further. Who knows what other remarkable exceptions to your condition the tadpole has provided? What's the harm in a little experimenting?

You tentatively lift the spoon to your mouth.

———

Later, while the others are asleep in their beds, your evening is spent retching up the meager contents of your stomach into the bushes. Turns out the mind flayer tadpole can't or won't alter every inconvienient facet of your undead physiology. Walking in the sun? Yes, by all means. Eating food? Very much still a no. Makes perfect sense!

"I see Gale's cooking really didn't agree with you."

Her voice manages to startle you. Not many people can do that anymore. Damn. It will be more challenging to seduce her after she's seen you like this, so weak and sick. It's okay. You are a professional, after all.

You fumble for an explanation that would satisfy your traveling companion. Would she believe a garlic allergy, or is that too on the nose? You could claim someone tried to poison you. Or you did it yourself to avoid the inevitable transformation but got the dosage wrong, play her sympathetic heart like the strings of her lyre. That could work.

But she doesn't ask any questions, for which you are immensely grateful.

Your stomach rolls and lurches painfully again. You taste something metallic on your tongue, subtly spitting out a clot of old blood into the grass. Pray she doesn't see; she would think it's already too late for you. She fears the tadpole—fears death, fears becoming something else, losing control of her body, as any reasonable person would in this situation. You almost want to tell her things can get so much worse than that. Worse than she is even capable of imagining.

"Astarion, hey. Breathe."

You breathe. There's a warm pressure against your back. Her hand, you realize, solid and soothing.

"Look at me?"

You look at her.

She touches your forehead. Gentle. You can't recall the last time anyone touched you like that.

"No fever," she mutters as if to herself, withdrawing the hand. Your eyes linger on the veins in her skin. "You feel too cold, in fact, you're shaking. Come sit by the fire."

You obey. Allow her to coax you over to a bedroll. Somehow you have fooled her into believing you're worth caring for.

"I didn't know you're a healer," you hear yourself saying. Where are you? You don't feel entirely present in this moment. Perhaps you haven't been for quite a while.

"Because I'm not. Just a mother," she says, a touch wistfully, and you realize how little you truly know about this woman whose throat you held a knife to mere hours ago. She carries herself like a soldier but calls herself a bard. Probably middle-aged, if the greying hair and lines beneath her eyez are any indication. And she has at least one child, apparently. You wonder vaguely if anyone waits for her back in Baldur's Gate. You wonder how it feels to be missed.

You don't know what to say, however, so you don't speak.

"It's okay to be scared, you know," she says quietly. "I'm scared, too. But we're in this together."

You laugh bitterly. She sincerely thinks it is fear making you ill, doesn't she, like some pathetic creature. A mistaken assumption, obviously, but...

You are, though.

Terrified.

A fear so bone-deep and familiar it is home to you. You're afraid this has all been some bizarrely wonderful nightmare, that you'll wake up any moment in a gloomy crypt with Cazador looming over you. Even more afraid that it's real and you actually have something to lose. You would sooner eat another wriggling parasite--hells, an entire pot of that damn stew—than go back to Cazador.

He will find you, you're certain. He will send hunters to track you down like a dog. Escape is impossible. This is nothing more than a brief reprieve in the misery of your existence.

You're a little afraid, too, of her. Of this unrelenting, undeserved kindness. Of what happens to you when it goes away.

"Why are you helping me?" you ask. She must want something. Everyone does.

"Maybe I just need you well enough to fight tomorrow," she offers. "Or, consider: you're a person who could use some help. Simple as that."

"You're too good for this sorry world," you say it like an accusation. Too good to me.

She shrugs. "Well, go with the first answer then. Need anything?"

"No, I think not."

The one thing you need, you don't dare ask for. Not yet.

"Try to get some rest, okay? I had last watch so dawn can't be too far off."

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"I...I would appreciate if you didn't mention this to the others."

That earns a strange look from her, but she nods. "Of course. Good night, Astarion."

You watch the sunrise for the first time in centuries. It is completely worth the awful, sleepless night which preceded it. Your days are numbered, you know, between the parasite and Cazador, but you are damn well going to make every second of that freedom count.

[miitarashi]

I don't know why,but this rent an apartment on my mind so yeah i had to take the opportunity that is still octuber and write it. Don't ask me,just read.

[Name] = reader (female and chubby because why not??)

Warnings: mentions of blood,killing,maybe a tiny little bit of spicy and it's a long ass reading (i'm not joking,it's really really long). Maybe some wrong words here and there,sorry some always pass through.

You've been warned.

But if you just read about the spicy and want to read this part right away,go straight down. It's close to the end. Your welcome.

Prompt: he became a vampire.

It's all begin with Tintin reading somewhere about supernatural events in the most obvious place for this to happen,Pennsylvania.

You and Haddock end up going along. Captain going to prove that things like this didn't exist and you,just for curiosity,almost the same reason as Tintin. At first,things were leading for more questions than answers,it was an serial killer and all the corpses had those particular mark on the neck,after this didn't take much longer to find out. Hiding in a seclud place far from the town was the hideout of the vampire,neither of you three believed at first but when he tried to attack showing off his fangs,well,i guess it was believeble.

In the middle of the fight,Tintin end up bited but you and Haddock maneged to kill the vampire,rushing for the hospital by how pale he was fearing the worst. On the side of the bed,was you and the old sea man,looking down at his sleep form worried and in silence until..

"Lady...? He's receivin' blood,right?" - you raised an eyebrow,confused,but nod.

"Then why in the beard of poseidon he's more pale then the floor of this hospital still?!" - he point out,loud like always.

"I don't know but,please captain,don't be so loud we are-"

"Look!! He's wakin' up!! Lad! Talk to us!!" - not only cutting you mid sentence,he warned almost screaming.

You even thought about scolding him,but the sight of Tintin moving and slowly waking up made you foget instantly about it,helping him to sit better on the bed.

"Captain...please don't scream,we're in a hospital.." - he say in a slight groggy tone and looked at you.

Immediately you could notice some differences,but for now,you only smiled happy that he was awake. Captain quickly shut after his request and you explained what happened while he heard intentily,surprised and confused,looking down at himself, then for you two again.

"In a more direct way,it means that...i'm a vampire now? A real one?"

"Well...yes but,don't worry,we'll try to find a way to make you turn back into a human" - you reassure,more yourself than him but hide it behind a smile.

"Aye! We'll stick by your side no matter what! Ye won't be a leech for lon'! Or my name is not Archibald Haddock!" - he said confident,soon being shushed by other people because he was being loud again.

After this,you three come back home,captain was counting on you to help Tintin through this and if anything you should just call and he would rush towards you two. Back inside of the apartment,he take off his coat and tried to see himself through a mirror,giving a quiet chuckle when he saw nothing.

"Vampires don't have reflection,that proves it" - he commented looking at you.

"Can you be my mirror and say what is different,please?" - you nod with a small smile.

"Well,you're really pale...your eyes..are a bit darker and..your fangs don't show up to much,your lips cover it well enough" - he raised an eyebrow when you said about his fangs.

Instinctively,he open his mouth feeling the fangs with the tip of his fingers,being a bit surprised,like just now the idea is sinking in.

"Guess i'm indeed a vampire,what i've got myself into this time"

"Hey,don't worry to much ok? We'll find a cure or something like this soon,you just have to be far away from the sun and garlic and you'll be just fine"

Your words sound cheeful with a little hint of playfulness,enough to bring a small smile and a little chuckle out of him,he nod and let a sigh.

"I'll begin the research about it,i have some books that might help"

"Ok,if anything i'll be on the living room,good luck"

You give a quick kiss on his cheek,recieving one on your forehead before walking towards his office. You let a little sigh, trying to keep a otmist mind althought this whole situation seems way to much,since things are still at ease that's enough by now.

Hours passed after that, your mind filled with the possibilities of what could happen, preventing you from focusing on anything else fully. Sighing, you get up and try to at least prepare something to eat in a small attempt to occupy your mind with something else.

In the other room, Tintin opened and closed books, gathering as much information as possible by writing in his notebook. Looking at the last book, then closing it, he leans on the back of the chair sighing and looking at the ceiling before turning to Snowy who was looking at him a little worried.

"Only the most normal things, even among the lines, there's no other way than the classic. Killing the one who creates the vampires is the only way" - he comments, lightly stroking the dog behind the ears.

"We may have to find and kill dracula,sounds easy,right?" - he joke a bit,trying to ease the atmosphere for Milu.

"Don't worry so much,i'll be ok,maybe a quick break will do good for us?" - the dog seem to agree and he nod in response.

Closing the notebook, Tintin got up and walked out of the office, promptly followed by Snowy. Hearing the door open, you turned around and gave a small smile when you saw him before turning your attention back to what you were chopping to prepare dinner.

"So, did you manage to find anything useful?"

"Unfortunately no, nothing other than the words 'only Dracula's death will free mortals from his vampiric curse'. It looks like we will have to hunt Dracula now" - he approached, taking Snowy's food and putting it in the pot so he could eat.

"dracula? like...the real dracula...??" - you asked, somewhat surprised at first, looking at him from the corner of your eye, who nodded in response.

"yes, it seems that the only solution. Until then, I'll be like this for a while" - he concluded as he leaned back on the counter next to you.

"well...it's like I said, stay away from the sun and garlic and you'll probably be fine" - you replied with a slight shrug, making him smile before walking closer to you.

"You don't seem too bothered by the situation, is there a reason for that?" - he asks, standing behind you while you keep chopping some vegetables.

"You being alive by my side, even though you're a vampire, is more than enough for me" - you end up saying it without thinking much, blushing slightly because of your own words.

Tintin couldn't help but smile with relief, perhaps he thought this situation would end up being difficult for both of you, but given your reaction, fortunately it proved otherwise. As usual, the journalist wrapped your chubby form with his arms resting his head on the crook of your neck with a soft sigh.

"thank you [Name], I'm glad I was lucky enough to have you" - he speak in this low,smooth tone of his.

You smiled, feeling your face redden even more at his words, but not just you. Being a vampire, his senses had become heightened and the heat left his body in the process, so with his arms wrapped around your waist and face resting in your neck, Tintin could feel it. Blood pressure making your blood flow to your flushed face, coursing through your soft, warm body. Moving lightly and slowly, he pressed his face a little more firmly against your neck, specifically above your artery, listening and feeling the pulse of your heart, creating a strange type of trance that not even he noticed he was in,but you obviously noticed too,making you stop and put the knife aside,cleaning your hands quickly while trying to think in other thing than his touches on you.

"Tintin...are you ok...?" - you said in a low tone,just for him to hear,but he couldn't at the moment.

His arms pressed your body against his slowly, searching for more of that comfortable heat that he is no longer able to produce, breathing in deeply your aroma making goosebumps run through your skin. His nose gently drags across your neck until they are replaced by his lips, stopping right above your artery.

"...[Name]...why you...smell so good..." - he speaks against your neck,a slight subtone of confusion in his words.

You could tell that even he didn't seem to understand exactly what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. His voice was a low whisper in his normal soft tone without the purpose of being malicious or teasing, just...longing with a growing hunger. This should have made you at least on alert for obvious reasons, but your mind couldn't fully focus on your instincts when Tintin had his hands on you.

He always knew and made a point of memorizing the best spots to touch you, learning and deifying every part of your body without caring, quite the opposite, loving the fact that you were chubby. His arms pressed you against him a little more, focusing on making the most of your heat, however, you could feel his breath against your skin making you slightly sigh at the sensation.

"...[Name]...i...may i please...taste you?" - he said under his breath, feeling the blood rushing up to make your cheeks blush.

It was at this moment that you could briefly remember what he was now and understand what he wanted, your mind finally starting to better understand your situation and begin to show more cautious towards him.

"But...what if you end up-"

"i would never" - he cut you quickly to answer, without hesitation.

"I'll stop when you say and whenever you say. Just, please...please [Name]..." - his tone gets slightly needy, not desperate but a bit urgent.

As if hunger was starting to cloud his thoughts, but he managed to keep them in order for now. However, the inebriated part made his body act and his hand gently entered the side of your blouse, the touch, now cold, of his hands made you squirm lightly followed by a brief sigh, both yours and his. The same happened with the other hand that slowly went under your shirt caressing the area carefully savoring the warmth of your soft body in his palms slowly making your mind wander and be filled by the sensations he provided in a way that made it even more difficult say no or walk away, as if he easily had you where he wanted you. An easy prey.

"..please [Name]...just a small taste...i need you..." - he asks again making you sigh in response to his tone.

"...yes...yes you can..." - you could only agree in a quiet answer.

Maybe you would be transformed too, maybe he really can't control himself, but you just didn't see yourself capable of saying no. He murmured words of thanks, moving his face away just enough to open his mouth demonstrating his pointed fangs, which you soon felt scratching your neck lightly, moving to a safer area where he could bite without causing problems. The tip of the fangs press and pierce your flesh making you hiss at first, the rapid pain travels through your body being replaced by the sensation of suction right in the area of ​​the bite. His fingers dig into your skin, a grunt of satisfaction as the taste of blood graces his palate, which he enjoys by closing his eyes to focus on the sensation.

Your whole body tingle, you had to bite back a sound while feeling the blood being drained, at first a little quickly but then it gradually decreases. You shouldn't and felt ashamed to admit it, but you couldn't deny the excitement building within, pressing your tights together in an instinctive movement, as he continued to drink your blood eagerly.

"Tintin...that's enough...stop..." - your voice sounded low, a little weak and without realizing it, a little whiny.

Along with a touch on his arm, it was enough to break him out of this trance, making him stop instantly and open his eyes. Without wasting a single drop, he licked the remnants of blood that came out of the small marks caused by his fangs, your body reacting to being basically under his control at this point.

"sorry, are you ok?" - he asked in a softer tone, receiving a nod in response.

"great and...i'm sorry again [Name] i just...couldn't help it..." - he said in an apologetic tone.

"that's...that's ok just...a warning next..." - your voice had clear embarrassment in the tone that had easily been noticed.

Tintin, a little worried, removed one of his hands from inside your shirt, holding your face cautiously, turning it so that it met his eyes, the light blue that seemed so warm to see was now a dark shade of blue, still caring but deeper in a way that you couldn't put in words very well.

"Darling, are you really ok?" - he speak soft a bit worried still.

Normally, when he uses the petname it is always to get your attention better for you to speak your mind, but now, you could only blush and look away embarrassed for feeling this way. He could feel your heart speed up, the heat of your body gradually increasing under his fingers easily making him tie up the loose ends and blush slightly as he took in the situation better, the way his arms were wrapped around you, how close your bodies were and your reactions.

Out of the blue, the hand that was holding your face pressed a little firmly making you look at him again, those penetrating eyes focused on yours in a silent request to which you quickly nodded yes and soon, his lips took yours in a soft, slow kiss at first. Feeling your lips parting slightly for more contact, without wasting time, his tongue slips in tangling with your still slowly.

You could feel the iron taste of blood still present, but you could only focus on him turning to face each other hugging his neck as he turned the kiss into something more passionate and deep, drinking your soft sounds while gripping your waist firmly before his cold hands crawl up your soft body, savoring the feeling of each curve, of each sweet spot he dedicated himself to learning and memorizing, never getting tired of exploring your body whenever he touches you.

When he finally stopped the kiss, he grabbed your thighs in a tight grip placing you on his lap in a quick motion like he was lifting paper off the floor sitting you on the balcony of the kitchen.

"Tintin...shouldn't we-"

"do you want me to stop?" - he cut you, saying in a daring tone.

His hand went up your thighs, taking advantage of the fact that you were wearing shorts, allowing him to feel your skin and that the cold touch sent goosebumps through your body, while his other hand went up your belly, slowly lifting your shirt.

"if you say no, I'll stop right away...but, do you really want me to do it, darling?" - he dare again, getting close to your neck to nuzzle his nose on your skin there.

"..no..please don't.." - you might sound a little pathetic, but you couldn't care less.

All his touches, words and teasing never failed to make you needy for him, he sighs against your skin pulling away to look at you with a small soft smile, kissing your forehead.

"good, now my beautiful girl, let me show you just how much I need you" - his voice was soft at the beginning.

But his hands soon begin to move to take off your shirt slowly his mouth trailing kisses and bites through your chest, slowly moving down...

___________________________________________

A/N: if you reach here,damm,i should give you a prize because i REALLY end up writing way too much lol. I need someone to speak about vampire Tintin because i have so much ideias about it. Maybe i'll do some headcanons and- oh yeah,i'll start writing the request now so yeah,i'm slowly getting back. Thank you for reading! Love u!

[monsterlets]

I really liked horror media when I was a kid, really just was not easily scared by fiction at all, but there were a select few things that not only got under my skin but got deep under my skin. and I think I finally figured out exactly what it took to scare me

it had to meet all and I mean all of these criteria:

corporeal. fuck a ghost I don't even understand what they're supposed to do to you

uncanny valley, but like blatantly. yes it looks basically human but you don't have to look at it for more than a split second to know that oh god it is not

long limbs long fingers

claws and/or teeth this thing clearly has the tools to kill me

not mechanical. if I have to buy into the existence of future technology to make it a credible threat it is now sci fi and I'm not scared

overwhelming strength and/or size and/or power and/or speed and/or numbers, I am not by any stretch of the imagination winning this fight (but if it has too many of the other things and also overwhelming numbers, it loops back around to being silly. if you're three times as big as me and three times as strong as me and three times as fast as me, and you're pack hunting me, what do you know that I don't? it seems like you're not that confident about how this encounter is gonna go)

(final, crucial piece of the puzzle that I just realized in the shower) it is coming to my house

so here's the exhaustive list of things that succeeded in scaring the piss out of me:

the rake

the hopkinsville goblins

okay so like I checked out a library book one time about like vampire folklore from around the world, and I wasn't scared of vampires going into it, and I wasn't scared through a hefty portion of the book, and then this one fuckin paragraph said that the thing about vampires needing permission to enter your house is not universal, and in fact in some stories they can slip in through any little crack. and I thought about that shit every night after that, until I got fed up and snuck some garlic salt from the kitchen and lined my windowsills with it. and I looked at it, various competing folklores swimming around in the one part of my brain that even kinda believed in this stuff, and I thought "I'm pretty sure I've accomplished nothing here." but I felt better about it anyway

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 5

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 4 🟣 Part 6 

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Mentions of blood, biting, vampire stuff.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: Buttload of information incoming!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69

Elective courses on vampirism. Mind reading gifts. Vampires appearing out of nowhere. The strange urge to offer yourself up as dinner you hadn't been able to stop. The term 'blood whore' wouldn't leave your thoughts. Part of you wished Marshall had never shared that with you. And the suggestion that you play walking buffet for four vampires... Now there was something that definitely rubbed you the wrong way.

Thirty minutes went by quickly as you thought about everything that had happened, and not even a second after you caught yourself violently curious and longing for information, there was a knock on the door.

"Mikey told me to tell you that you don't have to scream," Sherlock said as he stepped into your room. "How are you feeling?" The question sounded less feverish than half an hour ago in the living room; he'd obviously calmed down again.

"I'm good. How is everyone else?"

"Gone," he said, "I told them to hit the road."

"Thank you." The last thing you needed right now was Marshall and Mike digging around in your brain. "Where do we start?"

"Curious, huh?" Sherlock asked. "That's good. I say we go through the topics, and you point out the need-to-knows?” Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea.

"I still can't believe I am taking vampire lessons out of necessity all of a sudden."

"I'm sure you can adjust," Sherlock said, "your curiosity is a perfect indicator for it."

"I mean..." You could tell you were beginning to blush. "It's definitely interesting."

"Certainly," he said. "Now, first of all; thank you. I don't think I've said that."

"You're welcome." You were surprised by how much you genuinely meant that. "How come you were in such rough shape?"

"I was away for research over the summer, there hadn't been an opportunity to feed for weeks. I used my last bit of strength to get home."

"What were you researching?"

"Oh, I'll need to talk you through four more courses to make it understandable." His tone was friendly, and it made you like him even more. He wasn’t a condescending dick, like August.

"Maybe later," you laughed.

"What do you know?"

"Mike and the others brought me up to speed on the garlic, how turning someone works, a little bit about the gifts. And your... Food sources."

"Alright, so the basics. And our version of 'the talk'." Yes, you confirmed, that was pretty much it. "Perhaps a basic rundown of what you are wouldn't be out of place."

"I was hoping that would be one of the topics, yes." You just hadn't been entirely sure that it was 101 enough.

"You have a right to know, but it might be a bit complicated. Some things I may not be able to explain today, I hope you can accept that without thinking of me as a condescending arse?"

"I'm familiar with August, so I'm no stranger to a little derision." Sherlock laughed at your remark.

"That's a fair point."

"Anyway, Marshall called me a 'natural', was it?" If you were this curious about your classes, you’d be a straight A student, you were sure of it. Unfortunately for you and your grades, vampires were a tad more interesting. Especially since you were apparently wired to be food for them.

"Yes."

"Because being a vampire snack comes natural to me? Or 'us', I guess?" You definitely sounded more casual than you felt about the whole situation. There was definitely a lot to talk about, a lot to unpack, and a part of you really just wanted to hide from it all.

"Yes and no. Let me..." He took a tablet from the bag you had never seen him put down in the first place, and pulled up actual lecture slides. "I am going to try to make this an A to B kind of story. I am also going to warn you I'm not very good at those. I probably won't have to tell you vampires aren't the monsters humans once believed us to be."

"Mike took care of that... It took a me a minute to get on board with that." There was no point in lying to him, especially since your education had seemed to be a massive redeeming factor up until now.

"You were raised by the opposition, then?" Sherlock chuckled softly.

"Very much so, homeschooled and everything." Sherlock raised his eyebrows upon hearing your answer, and commented on the fact that Mike had done a very good job at changing your beliefs about vampires.

"There's still a lot to unpack,” you said softly while looking at your hands. It was all strange and new, and you were long past the option of walking away and pretending none of this had ever happened.

"Indubitably." There was something heartwarming about Sherlock’s smile you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He was a handsome man, slightly older than the others, though not by much, with a certain serenity to him that came with years – possibly centuries – of experience. How anyone was able to concentrate with him as a professor, however, you couldn’t figure out.

Somewhere along the way, your subconscious decided it was time to start asking questions, and pushed one to the front of your mind: "How did I become the way I am?" Sherlock patiently explained that you were born that way: It was an unusual, though not rare, mutation.

"What does it do?"

"If you'll allow me more than a single sentence in between interruptions, I'll tell you." Another charming smile gave you the weird urge to giggle – but you suppressed it.

"Sorry, professor,” you said jokingly, and he answered with a chuckle.

"As I was trying to say; humans and vampires have been coexisting peacefully for several centuries. Mike wouldn't even know of a time where they didn't, the rest of us have memories aplenty, and some scars for good measure.

"We made it this far, because we gradually developed a symbiotic relationship with your kind. Now, normally, these types of evolution take far longer than just a few short centuries, and to this day we don't know just what accelerated this change. It's especially curious because your kind is, as I pointed out earlier, quite unusual.

"Now, most humans who voluntarily allowed us to feed ourselves found it exhilarating, a thrill. Which was understandable because there was a significant risk of dying. There still is."

"Excuse me? Mike assured me that the only way to die would be if he… chose to…" Had he been lying to you when he said that dying wasn’t something you needed to worry about in your little experiment? You immediately felt embarrassed for asking. The details of your sex life were none of Sherlock’s business, after all, and you’d rather avoid this topic of conversation altogether – but it was too late for that, now.

"Ah, right. Bear with me for a moment, please? That relationship between vampires and naturals I described, tackles precisely that problem, and the one of the significant pain a normal human donor usually feels."

"Pain? There's no..."

"Not for you, not beyond the pain of the bite itself. For a normal human, even weakened venom would be painful. To willingly go through that would be indicative of serious masochistic tendencies." Sherlock also explained that this was precisely the reason that ‘unmedicated administration of bites’ – as he called it – was something usually reserved for erotic purposes. You appreciated the clinical, professional approach he took to explaining what was – in essence – more kinky vampire shit.   

"So when I offered without thought, you knew?"

"I suspected, and I do have to admit I was prepared to confirm my theory. Then I saw Mike's face. Marshall's commentary confirmed my suspicions. I'm fairly sure he got confirmation from Mikey's thoughts directly."

"And how does my… Condition… Tackle the problem of being drained?" Was ‘condition’ the right word? Existence? Nature?

"A fair question that's kept us occupied for quite some time. It wasn't a secret for long that some humans not only felt no pain when fed on, but also didn't seem to run out of blood. You can imagine what a commodity you were. Large sums of money were involved in the trade of your kind. You were stolen, wars were fought over you. Not to mention the crusades against you as much as us, because humans believed your kind's specific purpose was to feed vampires, and they believed that voluntary feeding was of the devil. They tried everything in their power to keep our feeding practices a crime."

"I'm afraid my family is still in that camp…" You shuddered at the thought of your parents finding out about your current living arrangements, let alone them finding out you were anything other than the perfect little girl they thought they had raised.

"Then I can't tell you how glad I am they never found out about your nature." Sherlock had an apologetic look on his face when he said it, and you decided not to push the matter, but it did make you feel uneasy. Luckily, it wasn’t hard to move on from the subject when the next question popped up in your mind.

"What causes it?"

"Right, the actual answer to your question. Your blood contains a chemical that, when it comes into contact with our venom, creates two other chemicals; one of which accelerates the speed with which your blood regenerates to the point where a vampire can't feed faster than you… replenish. Experiments have been conducted with two of us feeding simultaneously, and results showed it was not only dependent on the amount of venom in your system, but also a matter of habituation."

"Like… Breastfeeding?"

"An interesting choice to describe a basic supply and demand economy, but yes, and also very much no. Do you mind if we skip the technicalities for now?" He emphasized the fact that this would become a very lengthy conversation very rapidly if he were to explain everything in detail, though he didn’t want to put you off asking for further explanations, if that was what you really wanted. For now, however, you were good with the basics.

"If you bite me, I make blood faster, got it." The questions just kept coming, and you were really glad to not have asked for more details, because you were sure your head would overflow with information by the end of this talk, anyway. “What did Mike mean when he said he’d have to… drain me on purpose? mean, he didn’t know what I was at that point. Did he lie to me?”

“Ah, right. He didn’t lie. You see, he wasn’t feeding at the time. There would have been no reason for him to drink a large quantity of blood. Does that answer your question?" You nodded in reply to his asking. “Perfect. Moving on to the other chemical. That’s what is responsible for the… It’s been described as a ‘warm, fuzzy feeling’ you experienced during the… exchange. That one has an effect on us, too, if we take it in. It causes the overwhelming urge to take care of and protect you.”

“That’s what that was?”

Sherlock smiles apologetically. “Yes, it was. I’m sorry for not explaining it then and there, but it’s a very strong sense of protectiveness, and it had been a while since I’d fed in general, let alone from a natural. I was a bit preoccupied.”

“It’s okay,” you said, and you meant it.

“That chemical is also what made you so inclined to offer to let me feed. It was a rather strong urge, wasn’t it?” Indeed, it had been. So strong, even, that you doubted whether or not you would have been able to ignore it.

“And those things don’t happen when feeding on a normal human?”

“Indeed it doesn’t. We’ve managed to synthesize the chemical that serves as a painkiller and makes regeneration faster, which is what we now use to allow for safe feeding. But we haven’t been able to recreate the other one. Again, I unfortunately can’t tell you why. Efforts have been made. I suppose it’s hardly necessary to recreate that one, in fact it would be counterproductive to elicit that effect on purpose. Oh well…”

“So, voluntary feeders aren’t in pain, and you don’t have to worry about them afterwards. That sounds like a better deal than feeding on a natural.”

“It isn’t. It’s always better than feeding on an unwilling donor, or someone in pain – who isn’t enjoying that pain. But your kind have…”

“The a5 Wagyu of blood?” You couldn’t quite figure out whether or not that sounded like a brag, but it was out now, time to just roll with it.

“Exactly.”

"And feeding on another vampire? How does that compare? How is it even possible?" You were starting to feel awkward about your relentless curiosity, but Sherlock assured you that it was no problem whatsoever.

"Ah. We'll keep it simple. You know vampires drink blood."

"Obviously, I was lunch not even an hour ago." As if you could ever forget the most basic bit of vampire knowledge out there.

“Right. Logically, vampires can feed on anything that has blood.” “So vampires have blood?”

“Correct. Our metabolism works differently; it processes blood we drink and turns it into our own, which then functions as the fuel for our bodies. It’s as fulfilling as human blood, but the only way for us to come by more of it is to feed. We don’t make more blood. We also don’t taste as good. Alright, we taste very bad.” Sherlock laughed, and it sounded almost sarcastic.

“And human food?”

“That tastes absolutely fine, but metabolizing costs far more energy, because our system isn’t wired for it. It takes about five times as much food to sustain us than it does you.”

It looked like it was finally time to ask the question you’d been avoiding: “When Mike said you all hoped…”

“Ah,” Sherlock wasn’t surprised you asked the question. “When you said ‘McBloodDrive’, that wasn’t far off – conceptually. But it lacked a lot of depth and feeling. I understand your resistance to the idea, but would you allow me to explain?”

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” You tried to conjure up a smile – and failed miserably.  

“Good point. Where to begin… First of all; it’s like you said. You have the blood-equivalent of A5 Wagyu running through your veins. Can we at least agree it’s understandable they want a taste of that?” Alright, you couldn’t deny that without lying… “So part of it is a bit of jealousy towards Mike.”

“Mikey doesn’t… He hasn’t…” You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks again at Sherlock’s suggestion.

“He would have asked sooner or later,” Sherlock said, sounding fairly sure of himself, “knowing Mike, it would have been sooner rather than later.” Even you had to admit that that sounded entirely plausible.

“Besides, most humans get curious at some point. I mean. You did.” He made a vague gesture at your neck.

“Are you saying I would have asked him to feed on me at some point?”

“There’s a very strong possibility.” You had to admit you’d been curious, and as much as you hated to admit it now, there had been a part of you that had been wondering what it felt like if someone were to feed on you. Of course the events of this afternoon had satisfied that curiosity – but there was still definitely something inside you that wouldn’t mind doing it again.

Sherlock then went on to explain that these relationships were not just for the benefit of the vampires, but also for your kind. Adverse effects for you were minimal if not nonexistent – though in the olden days, a natural would have been expected to be available without question, at all times. You, however, still couldn’t fathom being anything other than…

“A McBloodDrive?” he asked with a sardonic chuckle. You shrugged. It was really the only thing you could come up with.

“You’re underestimating the nature of the relationship. They are really rather intimate – it’s inescapable. You wouldn’t simply be a food source. Dear Lord, how do I explain this… I can’t do this well, I’m sorry. I think I may need the others. Are you okay with that?” You nodded. Sherlock gave them a quick call, asking them to come back to the apartment before returning to your conversation.

“And… They were gunning for a steady thing, right?” The answer to your question was affirmative. From here on out, the questions that bubbled up in your mind were no longer coherent, the next no longer a continuation of the former – it was a mess, that was the only way you could describe it.

“Those… arrangements… are they common?”

“They are not. In fact, they’re quite rare. Many naturals capitalize on their assets, so to speak.”

“You can make money off it?”

“Oh yes. Quite a lot, too. Some of us pay good money for a steady arrangement with one of you.” He explained a type of relationship that was very reminiscent of a sort of sugar daddy type of setup – not something you were interested in at all. Others, he said, were just able to afford regular feedings from naturals, but the general setting for the establishments that offered those services was much more relaxed, more comfortable, and much more exclusive and therefore less crowded.  

“These arrangements… what are they like?” you asked when he explained all of this to you.

“What are you really asking me?” By now you had definitely learned that not much escaped this guy’s attention.

“Is it a sex thing?” You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you asked your question, but you had to know. And you didn’t find it weird, either.

“Is that what this afternoon felt like?” You quickly shook your head. That definitely hadn’t been sexual, although it was absolutely very intimate.

“The intimacy is a given in the kind of situation you would end up with us.” He said ‘us’, you noticed, so he wasn’t opposed to the idea, either. He did express that there was a possibility that such agreements occasionally did lead to deeper feelings of intimacy between participants. It led you to question whether one of you and four of them would be weird, to which Sherlock answered that the other way around would be much stranger.

“Have you ever been involved in such an arrangement?” you asked carefully. Your curiosity was really getting the better of you, and you didn’t know if you could contain it any longer. “You don’t have to answer! I don’t mean to pry. If it’s personal, by all means, don’t tell me.”

“It’s alright, darling, it is personal, but I am more than happy to share the story,” he said. It answered your question; it was obviously a ‘yes’. “It was just over five hundred years ago.” That shocked you, and you realized you had never asked the guys how old they were. Your surprise must have been apparent, because Sherlock answered the question you had never dared ask.

“I am just under nine hundred years old,” he said, “Marshall and August a little over four. Mike was born in the sixties.”

“He’s just a baby?” Somehow you found that incredibly endearing.

“Don’t say that to him. August would be quick to agree with you, though.” Sherlock let out another one of his dark chuckles. The sound of them was incredibly soothing.

“Where were you five hundred years ago?” you whispered. It seemed like such a strange thing to ask.

“English court,” he answered, “serving as a court physician under Henry XIII. The first Duke of Suffolk – Charles Brandon – was one of us, and he had… procured one of your kind – don’t ask me how, I have no idea and I doubt I want to know – to feed on. For services rendered he offered me… access, so to speak. It was a rather clean-cut business arrangement, as impersonal as could be. He refused to allow me to tend to her, afterwards, which made it hard on me, occasionally.”

“How so?” you asked, wondering out loud what would have happened if you had told him to back off.

“Nothing would have happened, per se, but it is a very strong, uncomfortable feeling of needing to do something, desperately wanting to take care of someone, and not being able to. It soured my mood rather thoroughly.” He chuckled softly again, but the sound had a melancholic ring to it, this time. The memories clearly struck a chord with him, still, and you weren’t surprised at all when he changed the subject.

“The others will be back soon,” he said hoarsely before clearing his throat, “I suggest you take another minute, because this wasn’t the last long talk of the day, I’m afraid.”

[fiannalover]

bweirdoctober day 27 - Fears: Mint/Control

Mint - College Age Medeia

On a lovely, cool autumn evening, Lucas was coughing his throat off.

“The flu season has hit you early, hasn't it Lu?” Medeia noticed, discreetly opening a window in order to keep the ventilation going.

“I have been… kinda weird for a bit, honestly.” He admitted, clear pain on his face and the roughness of his cry. “But I had a couple presentations yesterday, so I suppose that has made my voice finish burning out.”

Nodding, his roommate put the kettle on while throwing small talk at him here and there. The familiar noise and steam of the process entered his peripheral senses, the entire heating and steeping process being one he was well used to by then.

Diffusion done, she handed over the hot beverage to her friend. “Here you go. Warm mint tea. It won’t fix the root of your problems, but it should grant some immediate relief to your symptoms. I’ll prepare some actual medicine later.”

Mint? That was weird. Well, he was not gonna scorn this gift. Lucas blew upon it, then took a first sip. The familiar, refreshing taste immediately tickled a part of his brain, while the liquid’s cozy temperature soothed his body. Oh, whoa, this helped!

“Does that help?”

“A lot! Thanks, Medeia!” He beamed in return. Curiosity was taking over, though. “Can I ask a question?”

“Go ahead. What is it?”

“How come I have never seen you plant mint? I’m sure I’ve seen every other herb you ever used make their round as potted plants.” It was an innocent question. But the potion maker seemed to freeze on the spot from it, presenting some sort of primal fear he rarely saw from her. “Medeia?”

“Lu. Have you ever heard of the term ‘Kudzu Plot’?” She inquired.

“Huh? It’s… when a story grows all over the place with no rhyme or reason, I think.”

“Very much so. The name comes from the Kudzu plant, who is infamous for growing over anything, anywhere, until entire landscapes have been taken over by the wretched thing. All things considered, mint is about barely two levels below that.” She elaborated. “I’ve had to make alchemic level botanic killers once. I am not. In any rush. To have to make some again. So I don’t. Raise. Mint.”

Deciding it was best not to make her further revisit the horrors of biochemical warfare, he silently nodded and returned to his tea.

Control - Medeia and the Wondrous Village/Adult life Medeia

“Wheeeeeew! Dealing with Ghosts is such a pain!” Damian complained. “Do you think we'll have to face some of those again?”

“Who knows. For now, at least, they seem to be rather localized in appearance. We probably don't have to worry about this world spitting out these soul fragments elsewhere.” Medeia theorized. “I'm surprised you dislike them so strongly, though. After all, you have a very good resistance to possession.”

“Well, I may have enough willpower to shrug that off more often than not, but hitting them is still a pain! And when they do get me, it does not feel good.” He said, grimacing the entire time, then got reminded of something that was in his mind. “Hey, Medeia. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“You're pretty much immune to possession, right? But, in spite of that, you carry a lot of alchemic material custom made to ward them off and I could feel real worry from you everytime it happened to me or the others. Why do you focus so much on means of preventing possession?” Damian asked.

“... You got a sharp eye, don't you? Simply put, I'm the kind of person who likes always being in control of my body and mind. The idea of losing sight of myself and my wants is not exactly pleasant to me. And it's- for now, let's just say it means I don't like to see it happen to other people. That's all.” She explained.

“I see. Is that why you always keep a stock of garlic around?”

“Oh? There are no vampires in the village, but that type of knowledge is present in the world? Interesting.” She remarked. “Well, not necessarily. Garlic just makes things tastier, does it not?”

[stcnefruit]

— open starter.

status - open to all, but pls read my rules and mobile about (pinned post) first before interacting. don't like my starters. muse - iesha saeng-ah seol, adjunct professor of law/licensed attorney with private practice. bisexual, uses they/she/xe pronouns. vampire, six hundred and sixty-nine, appears twenty-nine. can default to appearance age/5+ for non-supernatural thread (if applicable). wanted opposites - m/f/nb, 30+. mocs (muns/muses of color) preferred. wanted connections - colleague, friend, date they've been seeing for a couple times, that one bitch who's supposedly from a line of vampire hunters but has never actually seen an honest to fuck vampire in their life, etc, as long as it's not taboo give me all of your shit. plot - you were supposed to be discussing international law and cases and shit but it's a Sunday evening and you're at their house and now they're calling bullshit on the 'garlic repels vampires' folklore after cooking you something from the family heirlooms that you swear to God is not even an extant dish and plying you with wine???? really good wine at that???? or maybe you don't drink that's fine here just have more food and hey is it just you are they fucking with you for fun or are their canines a little longer than usual. well

— there's only so long someone can talk about trade laws and governmental disputes before their soul looks like it's fixing to crawl halfway out of their body and into the open arms of God, so they're not surprised when the conversation takes a less... formal tone after the meal. vampires, though. their weaknesses, specifically. that's one for the books. they wouldn't have pegged the other as being even vaguely interested in poking around things older than law itself. there is the arch of an eyebrow, then, hovering, the slightest tell as they listen to them continue—curious, how invested this one seems to be in what to normal people is only a hypothetical. curious, how easy it is to figure out how much of it this one thinks is not. 'mean no disrespect, love, but listen to yourself,' they interrupt, wine glass in hand, half lounged over the back of the leather sofa like a cat sunning itself in the light of the open window, ceiling to floor. of course, it's pitch fucking black outside and it's Sunday night so there is no sunning to be had, but they'll never miss the opportunity for a good comparison. (the 1975 Léoville-Las Cases vintage still decanting in the glass doesn't hurt.) 'they've said this shit for years and i've heard it all. i've been all over the fucking world, toured the west coast of Africa twice, studied in France for nine years to get my degrees'—they don't linger on that part, because if the other thinks for too long and starts calculating shit they'll realize that xe'd have to be a fucking genius to head to Europe fresh out of xir teens and still wet behind the ears—'if garlic was really the undead's kryptonite i'd have a three story penthouse and a chauffeur waiting for me in hell at this point, the amount of things i've eaten. tonight included.' xe lean over a little further, soft haze of the chandelier above xem. 1950s, vintage Murano glass, Barovier & Toso mounted flush against the ceiling, light from the corners glinting off of the edge of a fang. veneers, on a cursory glance, unless you knew what you were looking for. 'you know what i think? i think someone got pissy they couldn't eat garlic and passed it off as a vampire problem, and then never had to eat another clove of garlic in their life as a result because they were too busy making money off the rumors by selling it as a magic charm or some shit like that.' or, they were a vampire and just wanted to fuck with humans for the fun of it, she thinks, but who would she be if she gave up trade secrets just to catch the hint of another smile from her guest. terribly unprofessional, according to eomma. then again, professionalism is not what gets you a custom engraved stake to the heart on chuseok. missed by three inches, albeit, but eomma is not one to measure distance, just audacity and the nicely healed scar on her chest. no respect for the ancients, these days. // @indiestarter

[monsieur-lemort]

"Get out of what?" in his head and out his mouth as most words often did. Upclose he could sense more about her, oui, slayer, old, chosen one, he hadn't felt the presence of one in centuries. He had assumed the old world caused most to die out when the realization that garlic was simply an italian food staple and crucifixes pieces of wood with the unfortunate Christ on them. Holy Water, blessed river water. "So, I am me?" he asked, with an amused look on his face, "which means oui, Louis is real, all that, the rooms on Rue Royale, he is.." he reached out, using the surroundings to see him through their housekeepers eyes, yes, reading on the sofa, David Copperfield, Lestat's own copy, "reading Dickens in his horribly tatty sweater he won't let me throw away," he would probably get back to Louis already having left.

"It's just slang, don't worry about it," Buffy explained. And then he spouted other stuff that was real, but she only recognized Louis. "Okay, okay, I get it," she interrupted him holding her hand up. "It's all true. You're Lestat. You're not fictional. You actually exist. You're the Real Slim Shady. I get it." She shouldn't be surprised. After all, Dracula was real. Why wouldn't Lestat be real, too? But, Dracula came to her. He had to meet "Buffy Summers, the renowned killer" (she still refused to use that word) and either turn her or feed on her. She wasn't sure. He kept going on about her inner darkness.

There was no way Lestat wanted the same thing. He DEFINITELY had no idea who she was. Not what, but who. Then again, from what she read, Lestat wasn't a demon like Spike and Angel and their kind. He was a different type of vampire. She was unclear about how his kind was made, but she knew demons weren't involved at all. So, since he wasn't part of the demon world, he probably knew nothing about her. So, then why was he even bothering with her? "So, what does The Vampire Lestat want with little old me?""

@monsieur-lemort

Lestat shrugged, “curiosity mostly, when degenerate fledglings I’ve never seen before are being staked like Van Helsing is loose in the French Quarter, one has to come see the show,” he answered. He was also now interested in what made up her, he had never met someone who hunted anything, much less vampires. “Considering you’re doing me a favor, i didn’t know your kind existed either before now, and i had to make sure I and my own weren’t in danger, and offer any assistance needed, if you aren’t opposed to working with such as me,”

Closed starter for @monsieur-lemort

It was Buffy’s first night in New Orleans and she was immediately greeted by two vampires. The first one came charging at her that all she had to do was hold up her stake and he ran right into it. The second one was smarter, but not by much. He held his own as long as he could, but all it took was one front kick from the California native and the vampire stumbled backwards, literally tumbling over a gravestone. Buffy immediately burst out laughing.

“That was really funny-looking,” she taunted the vampire. “Could you do it again?” The vampire growled at her. “I’ll kill you for that!” He charged at her. “For THAT!?” She mocked him. “What were you trying to kill me for before!?”

She punched the vampire in the face as he came at her and then dodged his punch. The two exchanged blows for a while. The vampire seemingly had her cornered, but Buffy put both of her hands on his shoulders and hoisted herself up sitting on said shoulders, wrapping her legs around his head. Using both of their upper bodies as leverage, Buffy brought herself down to the ground, using her legs to bring the vampire over her head and slam him down on the ground and then quickly got up. “Thanks for the warm welcome,” Buffy said. Before the vampire could respond, she staked him.

When the vampire exploded into dust, Buffy stood up and put her stake back into her leather jacket and continued her patrol. But, after taking a few steps, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up the way they always did when she knew she was being watched. As always, she was correct when she turned around to see a very tall man with long blonde hair standing a few feet behind her. “You know, being stalked isn’t really a big turn-on for girls,” she said to him.

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Josie Saltzman x Jed Tien (Legacies)

Requested by anonymous

Josie's laughing. She has been for nearly the last half hour, no matter how serious she keeps trying to be.

"No, no — that's not what it says!" she says, trying to sound stern but only laughing more as Jed continues purposefully messing up the script. She reaches to take it back from him. "Stefan would never say that!"

"It's creative freedom," Jed argues, grinning. His voice only grows more amused as he stretches his arm up further with the script, knowing that she can't reach it but delighting in watching her try. Those stupid four inches of height really do make a difference even sitting down. "Landon took creative freedom just writing this whole thing, so why can't we?"

Josie puffs out a breath, momentarily pausing her attempts. "Because — Landon kept as close to the facts as he could through history books and talking with my uncle Damon, but you—“

She lunges for the script, thinking his guard will be lowered enough for her victory. But Jed has the reflexes of a wolf and immediately stretches his arm higher, switching the script over to his right hand to add even more of an obstacle, and leaving her hands to lunge pointlessly at his wrist. Jed laughs and it's impossible for Josie not to as well, even through her groaning and slumping in defeat.

"—you're just making things up!" she finishes with another huff.

"You don't know that!" Jed insists, his eyes shining with joy at their playful bickering. "Here, listen, I feel like I can really capture Stefan's inner monolouge." He clears his throat theatrically and Josie rolls her eyes even as she bites the inside of her cheek to keep her smile from straying too far at the serious, brooding look he puts on. "I'm so conflicted. Should I tell Elena that I'm a vampire, or should I cover myself in glitter and go out in the sun in front of her in the hopes that she'll catch on?"

"Oh my god, sto-o-op!" Josie exclaims, bursting into laughter again and throwing her head back. "You sound like Uncle Damon!"

"I'm mocking Damon," Jed counters, his mock seriousness cracking to let his grin shine through as he slips back into his dramatic speech, standing up. Josie's eyes widen and she follows him, back to actively trying to retrieve the script from him. "What if she would prefer a sparkling boyfriend? Will I have to lie and tell her Twilight was real for the rest of our lives together?"

"I think she would notice you were lying when you run out of — glitter!" Josie makes another failed lunge for the script. She jumps for it, but Jed quickly switches hands again. "Or when she becomes a vampire as well and realizes that she burns just trying to open the curtains."

Jed hums and nods as if in genuine deep thought, all while still walking backwards and ensuring the script is out of her reach. She's not really trying to get it back anymore. More just making halfhearted lunges for it, only succeeding in grabbing at his arms instead. 

"You make a good point," he concedes. "Maybe she'd be willing to settle for me in all of my non-sparkliness." A mischievious glint brightens in his eyes as he looks at Josie and plasters on that brooding look again. "Elena. I'm sorry I don't sparkle."

Josie rolls her eyes. "Are we really doing this?"

Jed raises an eyebrow and gives her a look that says, we are if you play along. And, okay, they have some time to spare for rehearsal. Landon probably won't need them for another half hour while he's going over Lizzie's scenes as their mom and Cleo as Aunt Bonnie. They're having some trouble getting their last duet number done, the one before the wedding after Stefan killed Enzo. It's a whole thing. 

So, playing along could be fun. 

"You lied to me, Stefan," Josie says, putting on her best impression of her aunt Elena. She tries not to think about how much trouble she would be in for this with her. "You told me it was all real. Was it all just an act? Are you even really allergic to garlic?"

The last part nearly makes Jed crack up on the spot, having to press his lips together. After a calm beat, he gets back into character — or at least the caricatures of them — and looks at Josie with wide eyes, pleading with her. 

"I..." He turns his head away dramatically, and in a whisper, says, "No. I'm not."

Josie scoffs and takes a step back as if scandalized. Disgusted. 

"Our entire relationship is a lie!" she accuses, a hand on her chest. "Did you plan on running into me that day outside the bathroom? Was this whole thing just some... some twisted, manipulation?"

"No!" Jed steps towards her, hands outstretched to reach for hers, but Josie holds one up in front of her, stopping him short. "No, it was nothing like that. Yes, I — I maybe did run into you on purpose that day, but it's because I already knew how much I cared about you. And when we did meet, those feelings for you only grew stronger."

They are partially taking words from the script, Josie acknowledges, only saying them instead of singing them, and it's only bits here and there. The rest is entirely improvised on the spot, and Josie will admit, she's kind of impressed by how well he's nailing this. She knew he was really excited about getting to play Stefan but she hadn't really thought he put that much thought into it beyond... well, showing off like a lot of the others who auditioned. 

"But how can I know that you're telling the truth?" Josie says, shaking her head sadly. She gingerly reaches for the pendant around her neck, fingering it gently as she glances down at it. "You could have gotten in my head without me knowing about it."

"I would never do that to you," Jed insists firmly, trying to catch and hold onto her gaze. "That necklace protects you from any vampire's mind compulsion. I gave it to you to protect you."

"From you?" Josie snaps, her head shooting up and her chin jutting out with a glare. 

A mistake, because it gives Jed the perfect opportunity to keep her eyes locked on his. Once they're there, focused on his wide, sad eyes — they're not as dark in this lighting and up this close, they're kind of like a shimmering brown, little lighter brown specks flickering like sparks off of a spell against the darker brown — she can't look away. She's too caught up in it.

"Yes," Jed agrees softly. "From me as well. So you would know, when this moment finally came, that I would never dream of doing anything to hurt you. Not on purpose." He sighs. "You don't have to trust me, Elena, but please believe that I'm telling the truth when I tell you that everything else was real, including... especially my feelings for you."

"How can you be so sure, Stefan?" Josie asks. "How -- how do you know yourself that what you feel for me is real and not just some way for you to hold on to your past?" She steels her stare as best she can, setting her jaw. "To Katherine?"

"Because what I feel for you is beyond anything I ever felt for Katherine," Jed swoops right in, saying the right words in the right voice.

He steps forward and she doesn't back away this time, but tilts her head up, keeping her ground. Then, with perfect calculation, and as smooth as if he does this all the time, he reaches out and rests a hand on either side of her neck, thumbs just barely brushing her jaw. When she says she freezes like a statue, she means it save for the shiver that runs from where his palms are touching her skin, down her spine and up the back of her neck. 

"You and her… you're nothing alike," Jed says, softening his voice like melted butter, and Josie swears she's not just staring at him with her mouth open in awe, but she also can't be sure. "You share an appearance, but when I look at you... you're all I see. No one else. Because your heart is what make you who you are, and your soul. And those are things I can feel and see, and they're the reason that I fell in love with you. Because of who you are, the way you think, the way you love and feel so passionately."

He slips a hand up to lightly brush away a stray lock of her hair. His eyes follow his own fingers to tuck it behind her ear. Josie tries to recall if werewolves have heightened hearing because her heart may be turning into a ticking time bomb and she's not too sure why, but something is telling her no one else should be allowed to hear it. 

"That's why I love you," Jed repeats, reconnecting with her gaze. "Even if you may never believe that."

This is her cue, a little voice reminds her, suddenly striking an alarm bell that reverberates through her mind and kicks her out of her staring —gazing, it was definitely gazing, Lizzie would call it gazing, for sure. 

"I believe you," she breathes out. 

Jed blinks in surprise, then a soft smile takes its place. Josie returns it. 

Then the Lizzie voice echoes back through her mind, saying, this is the part in the play where you kiss. And that thought absolutely terrifies Josie, because — what? They were just joking around, but it's occuring to her now that come show night, they will be doing this again, for real, and yes, there will be a kiss. A very scripted kiss. No spontaniety. 

"Even..." she continues quietly, kicking the train of thought off its tracks and diverting down a safer route, "... if I'm disappointed that you don't sparkle. I was looking forward to having a disco ball for a boyfriend."

It successfully breaks Jed out of character; he laughs and has to look away. Josie almost breathes a sigh of relief with the connection broken. It was like a spell had come over her. She just laughs with him, her shoulders easing down a little from where they had hunched with frozen tension. 

Before either of them can speak again, there's an outburst of applause from the doorway. Josie's and Jed's eyes widen as they both quickly look over to find Landon, Lizzie, and Cleo standing there. All three are clapping and wearing bright smiles; Landon's eyes are wide and... in awe, his expression like an excited puppy; Cleo is simply smiling, but there's something in her eyes that dances around the knowing expression; and Lizzie has never looked so smug in her life. 

The two of them break apart, Jed quickly pulling his hands back to him then hastily stuffing them in his pockets. Josie fiddles with the pendant around her neck and tries to avoid looking at anyone as her cheeks flush hot and probably red. 

"That... was amazing!" Landon is saying, marching right over to them with purpose that gives Josie great anxiety. "You two — oh my god, the chemistry? You have nailed the roles of Stefan and Elena, I mean" —he's looking between them with those wide eyes of disbelief, shaking his head— “if I didn't know better watching that, I would have sworn it was real! You were obviously the perfect choices for this."

Josie's face only flushes harder, more furiously at that comment. She chuckles nervously, and it ends too quickly. When she glances up at Lizzie, she finds exactly the expression she was anticipating. The knowing side-eye, the smirk, the slightly tilted head that says she is definitely getting involved in this. That's going to be a fun conversation. 

Meanwhile, Jed rubs his neck sheepishly and tries not to appear too flustered under the many pairs of eyes. "Thanks! Uh, yeah, we were just... practicising. We went a little off-script, sorry about that. Just wanted to get a feel of the characters."

"Oh yeah, I don't doubt you wanted a feel of the characters," Lizzie emphasizes to Josie's mortification. She ignores her do you have to?! look of alarm and crosses her arms. "But... I agree with Landon."

"Yes, you two were incredible," Cleo chimes in, and Josie manages a small smile of thanks back at her when she catches her eyes. "I don't know this Stefan or Elena but with you two playing them, I feel like I do."

Josie's rubbing at her neck now, trying to keep her smile in place as she nods. "Thanks. So, uh, are you guys done rehearsing?"

The quick change in subject does not go unnoticed by either of the girls. Or Jed, who slides her a glance that adamantly avoids catching. Only Landon, who deflates a little but doesn't entirely lose the strangely upbeat thing he has going on at the moment.

"Sort of. For now. We're taking a break," he says. "We've got most of the number down. It's just this bit towards the end, but it'll be all fine. You guys just keep rehearsing — all of you!"

He points a finger at each of them in turn as he starts to back away. Josie's beginning to think his upbeat thing is more of a nervous breakdown thing the more she sees him. It's like he's becoming more and more unravelled with every rehearsal. Understandable, she thinks quietly to herself, it's not exactly easy. 

As he leaves the gym, Lizzie turns an arched eyebrow on them. "So, should we leave the two of you to continue rehearsing or—“

"Actually, I have Chemistry — I mean—“ Josie hasn't wished Malivore to swallow her whole so much in her life "—I have class. So, uh..." She turns to face Jed for the first time since they were interrupted and shoots him a smile, asking, "Later? We can, uh, pick back up from... pa-page twenty-three?"

Jed nods, maybe a little too vigorous and frantic. "Yeah, of course!"

"Okay! Good." Josie swings right around, saying, "Bye!" then marches straight towards the door and out of the gym before anyone can stop her. 

[catboy-lover-archive]

Obey Me Romanian MC

idea inspired by @/harunayuuka2060 (too shy to tag them)

Nu ştiu ce inspirație supraomenească m-a lovit dar am început asta la 2 dimineața și am terminat-o la 6.30

Im sleep deprived bc I stayed up all night doing this, enjoy gagicile mele

[added translations]

(under the cut bc this bitch is long af)

Lucifer: Are you not enjoying your meal?

MC: This food isn't even good. Next time I'm bringing my bunica to make you guys sarmale best thing you ever tried 👩‍🍳👌😘 mwah

-

MC: I'm not gonna go out with Satan, Beel, Asmo or Belphie.

Asmo: Awww

Beel: :(

Belphie: What?!

Satan: Why?

MC: Why date a guy who's favorite color is not in romanian flag? 🤔🇷🇴

-

Asmo: But I thought you could-

MC: For the last time IM NOT A VAMPIRE I CAN'T HYPNOTIZE PEOPLE OR MAKE THEM FALL IN LOVE WITH ME

-

Levi: Ohhh!!!! So are you like familiar with Castlevania-

MC: We don't talk about that *cries in disappointed*

-

Solomon: What is this weird potion.

MC: *puts bottle of țuică (plum brandy) on the table*

MC: This is not a potion, but a solution to all of your problems gagica 💖

-

MC: *talking to Lucifer* Oh iubire (love), stop crying over Diavolo again. Why cry over guy who would wear vagabond everyday in my country?

MC: Tsch tsch tsch

Lucifer: What the fuck is Vagabond

MC: Only the worst of streetwear existent. Only f-boys use it

Lucifer: Fair enough

-

Beel: Why do you want to try out for the sports team?

MC: Because Steaua, my country's team, disappointed me 😔

-

MC: Mammon! Asmo! Let me show you guys a thing called ✨manele✨

-

(after the Belphie incident)

MC: Does anybody have a belt.... a belt so I can...no reason...papuci de casă (slippers) works too

-

MC: Hey Belphie! Did you enjoy your punishment? 😜

Belphie: My butt still hurts...

MC: Next time it's the lingură de lemn ♡ (wooden spoon)

-

*MC dancing to Braşoveanca*

Mammon: W-what's that???

Satan: Some sort of ritual I suppose

Asmo: *joining in* It's fun!

MC: Doi✌paşi🦵înainte➡️şi😱doi😩înapoi⬅️ (two steps forward two steps back)

-

MC: Who has summoned me?

Satan: Belphie isn't feeling well and the medicine didn't really do it's job.

MC: Everyone watch closely because I'm going to teach you guys a sacred ritual called ✨Frecție cu Oțet✨

Satan: You're just pouring vinegar on his wrist.

MC: Now here comes the fun part. *maggages his wrists*

Belphie: Someone please kill me this is unbearable

MC: Am I allowed to say Tatăl Nostru (Lord's prayer) or is that too....uhhh weird since yall are demons and stuff-

-

Barbatos: MC...

MC: I'm sorry but crossing myself after I finish a meal is implemented in my brain. It's in the default settings.

Barbatos: What happens if you don't cross yourself?

MC: Lingura de lemn (wooden spoon) *shivers*

-

Diavolo: Do you like my castle?

MC: Baby, Peleş puts you to shame.

MC: Also, too much current (swift). Close the damn windows

-

Lucifer, giving up on life: Oh not again...

MC: DA PĂ CIMPOI DA PĂ CIMPOI JOACĂ FETELE LA NOI 👉👈😳

MC: Real music here 😌

-

MC: There, there gacica (girlfriend). Don't cry. *pats him on the back*

Lucifer: Do you got any more țuică...

MC: That's the spirit!

-

MC: I know I technically didn't die, but can we please have a funeral??? There is this really tasty cake just for this special occasion called colivă. Beel is okay with it so- hey don't ignore me! wait guys this is important- wAIT!

-

Satan: I hate Lucifer because he is my father.

Belphie: I hate Lucifer because he sucks in general.

MC: I hate Lucifer because Favorite color is red which is COMMUNISM COLOUR 😡‼

-

Solomon: See?? MC likes my cooking!

MC: Piftie...Caltaboş...

MC: Solomon, you would make a very good romanian housewife. Say, have you ever considered getting a 701st wife...?

-

Beel: *munching happily on the food MC makes*

Lucifer: *getting a fucking break*

MC: *making grătar(barbeque) cu mici*

MC: Everybody loves 1 Mai!

-

MC: Beelphiiieee!!!! I have a spell for you 😊

Belphie: Please not the lingură de lemn-

MC: *boop on the nose* ✨du-te dracu✨ (go to hell)

-

Lucifer: How did you make everyone behave?

MC: *looking at the papuc de casă in hand*

MC: You either die a hero...or live enough to become the villain...

Lucifer: Interesting, can you teach me?

MC: The secret is to use your wrist-

-

MC, whispering: Psst! Mammon! How's the sarmale trading going?

Mammon: Its okay, but why can't you just give me the recipe?

MC: E din moşi strămoşi (it's from older generations) I can't give it to you

-

MC: Hey pisi, want a ride in my Dacia?

Simeon: ...what? :)

MC: Come on gagica(girlfriend)! We are going to visit my family they will love you!

MC: You can also bring Luke. Just uhhh don't let him drink from the "juicebox" ok? It's not- It's not juice in there

MC: But you can drink. I won't tell anyone.

-

Diavolo: MC you can't leave yet. Not even for a quick visit back home.

MC: Auzi, da du-te-n p- (well why don't you fuck yourself on my dic-)

-

MC: *sigh* Sometimes I wish Satan was wearing Vagabond instead of...whatever that is

Asmo: Ouch, but yeah I guess we are that desperate.

Satan: I'm never tutoring any of you again.

-

MC and Luke, just vibing honestly: ⬇️Intră-n👇apa🌊mării🐚şi🐋nu🐟te🙄teme😱ai😳să-nveți🤯să-noți🐠printre🤔sirene🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

(go in the sea's water and don't you be afraid you'll learn to swim among mermaids)

-

MC: No Asmo, I have a date to the ball he's right here *points at țuică bottle*

-

Belphie: *misbehaving*

MC: Vai, vai, vai. Sărumâna Belphie 😃 ( well, well, well good day Belphie)

MC: *grabs the papuc (slipper)*

-

MC: NO LUCIFER IT CAN NOT BE AN AN NOU FERICIT (happy new year) IF WE DO NOT DANCE THE HORĂ

-

MC and Luke, vibing yet again: POVEȘTI DIN FOLCLORUL MAGHIAR!!! (maghiar folklore stories!)

-

MC: Where is my țuică? :)

Everyone: *quiet*

MC: I won't get mad :)

MC:

MC: Foaie verse de trifoi~ *papuc reappears* Dați băi țuica înapoi (green leaf of clover, give the țuică back you fucker)

Everybody: *runs*

MC: Mândruțelor (girls), come back until I'll put this to good use

-

Levi: *exists*

MC: *in love with him bc his fav color is in the Romanian flag and not in the commie flag*

MC: Te las să te lingi cu mime în parcare la lidl (I'll let you french kiss me in the Lidl market parking lot)

-

MC: Lucifer you don't understand!

MC: Sandu Ciorbă cured my depression!

-

MC: Muie cretinii pământului (fuck y'all stupid asses) my țuică is back and I'm not sharing anymore

-

Asmo: We're doing hot girl shit tonight

MC: Ne curvim rău (we're hoeing)

-

MC: futu-ți cristelnița mătii (fuck your mother's font) Simeon you're the one that drank all my țuică

MC: I'll let it slide this once, if u take me for shaorma(shawarma) in Piața Victoriei (Victoria's market)

-

Solomon: Whoops, I accidentally messed up the sarmale recipe

MC: Aşadar războiu alesu l-ai (So you have chosen war)

-

Mammon: MC, how do you say "I hate you" in romanian?

MC: Dar eu sunt mândru că sunt twink. (I'm proud to be a twink)

Mammon, clueless: ok thanks

-

MC, to Belphie: I had such a rough day, please fute-mi una (fuck me over) and not the way I like

-

Mammon: What would be a quick way to make money?

MC: Gagica(girlfriend), listen. Culegător de sparanghel (asparagus picker) in Spain is your go-to.

-

Asmo: *blasting manele vechi (old manele).2006*

Asmo: Please love me!

MC: *already in wedding attire*

-

MC: Beel! Here, try this! Yeah yeah its completely fine!

MC: ...what do you mean it looks like Solomon's cooking?

MC: THIS IS PIFTIE AND YOU WILL LEARN TO APPRECIATE IT

-

MC: *dragging them all by the hand to therapy*

MC: Păi aşa-i hora pe la noi măi bade- (This is hora to us well my mans)

-

MC, talking to Lucifer: Măi omu lu dumnezeu îți fut una de nu te vezi (listen God's man I'll fuck you over that you'll not see again) if u lay a finger on my țuică again

MC: I don't care that you have daddy issues, this is MINE now thank you very much.

-

MC: Doamne cu ce ți-am greşit? (God, what have I done to you?)

MC: tanti Lilith, ia-mă cu tine gagicuțo milf ce ești (Miss Lilith, take me with you you milf girlfriend)

MC: Chiar și culesul de căpșuni din Spania era mai ok dacât (even strawberry picking in Spain is better than) Therapist Simulator hell edition

-

Diavolo: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu a ta mireasă? (Do you want me to be your wife?)

-

Simeon: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu Ileană Cosânzeană? ( Want me to be your fairy wife?)

-

Belphie: Every time I doze off they say this weird phrase...

MC: Dormeo(mattress company) ! Noapte bună! (good night!)

-

MC: What do you mean im not allowed to have a cross around my neck?

MC: My dead grandmother would kill me it's Sfântu Andrei for fucks sake

MC: The law is law we gotta put garlic and salt everywhere around the house

MC: This is what you get from taking my țuică away AGAIN

-

MC: I mean, at least i dont have to take the bacalaureat and face the woman-hating-Ion-Creangă-fucking-twink-looking-nightmare-inducing Eminescu so

MC: *drinks a Mona Spirt (rubbing alcohol) bottle in one go*

MC: that works wonders for me

[nimbus-tatze]

Thanks goes to @h-dgp bc otherwise I'd never live up to my promised posts, in this case a recipe. A long post.

So here's what I'd cook for my mutuals if I could

Psıhaluj, which is dough filled with either cheese, meat, or potato, served with yoghurt and garlic sauce. The dish itself is not super 'rare', variations of it exist in so many cultures, but this is the way our tribe prepares and serves it.

This will be the recipe for the potato version

Start with the filling so it can cool down, otherwise it'll be too hot to handle

For the filling:

4-5 potatoes: boil them and after peeling them take a fork and break them down.

One big onion (or several small ones): finely chop the onions and put them in a pan with a bit of oil on medium heat, until they start to turn translucent at the edges

into the pan add the potatoes, and a good dash of pepper flakes, dried dark purple basil (that's the good stuff, I got a good chunk from my village) and salt. Mix it well. Let it cool.

Also eat that stuff pretending to 'taste it' bc it's good

Now while the filling cools down you can prepare the dough. There are different versions, but I always do the most simple one. Which is:

500 gr of flour

I don't know american dumbass measurements but I think it's half a regular spoon of salt?? I don't know man, I don't stick to a recipe usually. Do whatever you think is approapriate.

mix these two well, then start adding water. How much? I have no idea, just add it bit by bit, by the end the dough should not be sticky. Put it in a plastic bag or smth and let it rest for thirty minutes or so. Or less. I don't write the rules

Ok while the dough and the filling are waiting I usually prepare the sauces. Two types, always, bc that's a rule i WILL stick to.

Sauce one:

Yoghurt, about one and a half cup (or depending on your preference for yoghurt more or less, in my case it's always a bit more)

Add crushed garlic. I could say one clove, but honestly go wild if you want. Just know that sauce no.2 is based on garlic too, so if you can't handle that much stick to one clove (the house is gonna be vampire resistant for the rest of the night, yes, bless my ancestors)

A bit of salt. Just a lil. Mix well. Done.

Sauce Two:

In a pan melt some butter. With some I mean a lot. My people live from animal ag and so I'm used to a lot of butter. Honestly no idea how much. 100 grams? 150 grams? Dunno how that black sheep from the VVitch would try to match my consumption of butter

Before the butter starts to bubble add AT LEAST three or four cloves of garlic (you can add more if you are brave, usually after five cloves I’ll add a bit of water to turn it less intense) and half a spoon of pepper flakes, don't be shy. Put it in there, make sure the butter is hot and let it foam up a bit. Make sure to stir it and don't let the butter turn too dark. If it foams take it off the heat, stir it a bit and let it rest. Done

Ok now that you've got everything ready the troublesome part starts, filling and closing the Psıhaluj.

Take out about a third of the dough, and on a well floured surface, flatten it until it's about 2-3 mm thick. Don't put flour on the top though or you'll have difficulty closing that thing depending on how much water you have used for preparing your dough.

Take a cup with sharper edges, or a cookie cutter, whatever is round. We have a traditional metal cup with engravings for that lmao. Start cutting out circles, they should fit nicely into your palm. Don't do this on all of the dough, just start with a third and then get the filling. If you try to do it one go you'll end up with dry dough disks bc if you havn't done it for years you'll be pretty slow. Ask me how I know.

No. Don't.

Anywayyyyy, take a small spoon, take a good bit of the filling and put it on one side or the center, whatever makes them easier to close for you. If you have difficulty with closing them up tightly take a fork and after putting the Psıhaluj on a surface you can press the end of the fork on the edges to close them up tightly.

Have smth like a big baking sheet or tray ready and put down a kitchen towel. You can put a bit flour on it if the dough has become sticky. They always magically do.

Once you're done with the first third of the dough, repeat the process for the remaining two thirds. All the while make sure to also process the remaining dough from cutting out the circles.

Once you're done it should look smth like this

Ok, by this point you should also have mysteriously found some time to fill a big pot with a lot water and get it to boil. Add salt as you see fit, and then drop in the Psihaluj, again maybe try with a third at first. They should have enough space to swim freely and once they start to float at the top wait maybe another one to two minutes before taking them out (the water should constantly be boiling, your kitchen is gonna look like one of those busy steamy kitchens in tiny back alley restaurants from the movies)

I like to put the finished Psıhaluj into one big casserole/baking dish. Also into that casserole form pour some of that butter garlic sauce on top everytime your done with a third and stir (or shake the entire thing, it's easier) to make sure all the haluj are covered in butter.

Once done with cooking them all and coating them in the sauce I usually put the thing in the middle of the set table and after everyone is seated I'll serve them onto the plates however much anyone likes, starting from the eldest bc I stick to customs. Everyone pours their own yoghurt on top and usually a bit more of the garlic butter to make it look pretty. If you hate wasting stuff, you can take the starchy water you cooked the haluj in, put in some of that dried dark basil and some lemon juice and serve it in a mug, a bit like soup. Not particularly special, but it’s not wasted.

Done. Eat. Be careful of eating too much, that stuff is FILLING. I blame the butter.

Sadly I can't provide you with a picture of the finished product I made myself however here is what i found online (some people like to put dried and crushed peppermint on there as well but that’s mostly non-adyghe people that have us as neighbours)

Additional info from our language, Psı means water, haluj means bread. We made water bread. Great.

Also, maybe be careful who you get close to after that meal, bc you are garlic, garlic is you.

[a-vampire-moth]

This has brought me a bogus amount of happiness!

My vamp lore:

There are multiple types of vampires, we can't forget that. There's born, turned, and undead

Born vampires are able to turn into animals. However, turned and undead can also transform with magic

Vampires can also be gifted, no matter their type of vampire or even if they are a vampire.

Many things that are vampires can turn others into vampires. You could be turned by a vampire bug, a vampire dog, ect.

You do take on traits of what you were turned by, though.

"Psychic" and "sanguine" don't really exist. It just depends on what you're built to eat. Everyone has their own appetite.

I'm an undead vampire, but my body works just as a living one.

That means that I have grown and aged beyond my "turning" point.

I've "almost" died about twice (nothing bad on my parents' part. I was just a really stupid child)

So obviously, I've been turned since I was around the age of 6.

Sadly, I don't recall the event of me even being biten, just that I was after my undead events.

As far as I know, I'm not gifted, but I do have family (who aren't vampires) that are.

I feed off of sugars, things like juice and teas, I've never found the need for blood or meat.

I do get urges for blood and meat, but once consumed, I get sick.

Seeing as I'm still working as a living being, my body is still full of life even after death, I know that I don't physically compare to someone who was born a vampire or stayed living when they were turned.

I have a reason to believe that I was turned by a vampire moth of some sort.

I went through a "chrysalis" stage around 14-16 y/o, where I got my moth attributes

Vampires can have families or "packs," regardless of type, often built by close bonds. It's more of a psychological imprint to recognize one as apart of "the group".

Vampires that are also in these families have a significant increase in prosperity and happiness.

I personally don't have a reaction to garlic or crosses. I do have a sensitivity to sunlight, I get very hot under the sun, sunlight strongly hurts my eyes, and I tend to tan a lot faster than normal people

A lot of my vampire stuff is tied with my moth therian things. I saw someone else explain it like being mothman but not mothman, and it honestly makes sense. In a weird, backward type of way.

For me, being a vampire is just.....is. Like I've known no other. but I was really happy to expand on my vampire life here!

Vampire Kin, what's your lore? How do you operate as a vampire? What terms do you use?

For me, my vampire lore is:

We vampires go dormant/fall into an eternal sleep at the lack of blood

Orange juice, salt and dark chocolate are all ways to keep up your blood content and to stay healthy in your body

I am an awakened vampire, so supernatural genes, such as being a vampire, tend to get activated around 14-16 years old. And I've known I'm a vampire since around 15 years old.

Vampire eyes either glow red or silver (possibly red due to intense emotions, like hunger, and glowing silver due to using magick)

Vampires have covens, and can be witches!

Vampires can also be gifted in different ways, such as having premonitions or visions

Not all vampires have wings or are able to transform into animals, but some do!

There are many different types of vampires! Such as Awakened Vampires (born with the vampire gene, awakens when they mature/it gets activated by another vampire), Turned Vampires (have to be bitten by another) and Undead Vampires (have to be bitten and to die), etc.

I don't use terms like "psychic vampire" or "sanguine vampire", but I don't mind that people do, it's just not my lore.

Vampires can have a blood bond with another, by exchanging vows and/or exchanging blood, as some sort of contract. This can also be done through a magical ritual.

I don't specifically have sun or garlic weaknesses as a part of my bloodline, but I do believe that's different for turned vampires. I do have some metal weaknesses/allergies though, and some light sensitivity.

etc. There's probably more but I don't remember it all right now.

Honestly, for me, this is not just kin, this is astral and spiritual for me, including with memories of my past lives. But,, for kin community, I'd love to share.

Tell me your vampire lore! Does it overlap? Do you have your own ways of working? Reblog or put it in the comments!! I'd love to hear :>!!

[one-boring-person]

Long Day?

Dwayne (The Lost Boys) x reader

Warnings: very vague mention of death (Very vague, though)

Context: The reader works for a grounds maintenance company and has a particularly tiring day at work, leading to a comfortable night-in with Dwayne.

A/N: This is a bit short, but I've had the idea stuck in my head all week, seeing as I do the same job and know how exhausting it can be. On that note, I guess it's also important to mention that any parts of the job that I've included are based off how I'm supposed to do them, as well as my own experience. I hope it is enjoyable! 😁😅 (This is my first Dwayne fic, so please excuse it if the character is a bit off)💛💛

Masterlist

My whole body aches as I finally drag myself into the house, my clothes covered in dirt and grass stains, my skin still covered in sweat after a hard day's work, the steel toe-capped boots on my feet tracking mud into the worn carpet in the hall as I slowly make my way further inside. Yawning, I sling my rucksack to the side, choosing to clear it up later as I kick off my shoes and trail upstairs, glad to be home and able to relax, aiming straight for the bathroom, eager to shower off the reek of plants and petrol from myself. Upon entering, I don't waste time in stripping off my uniform shirt (bearing the gaudy logo of the grounds maintenance company I work for) and old jeans, my socks and underwear soon following as I climb into the shower, turning on the cold water initially, my body still heated from spending close to eight hours in the blazing sun and in need of cooling down. Shivering, I close my eyes for a little while and just allow myself to relax, relishing in the sensation of the cool liquid trickling down my flushed skin, until I finally turn the temperature up in order to properly wash myself off.

Ten minutes later, I step out of the bathroom and dry myself, heading into my bedroom to find some comfortable clothes to wear, intending to spend the evening doing nothing but watching television, preferably with my boyfriend. Finding a loose shirt and a pair of old shorts, I pull them on and go back downstairs, glancing out of the window briefly to check the time of day: the sun is already setting, which means I won't have to wait too long. I go into the the kitchen to grab something to eat, picking up whatever comes to hand and a glass of soda, before heading back into the living room, where I situate myself on the sofa, tucking into the food as I go to switch on the old television, not bothering to change the channel that flickers on, my attention elsewhere. Too soon, the food is finished, my stomach craving more, even though my body can't be bothered to get up and move to get some, an irritated groan leaving my lips at this, my head falling back onto the sofa.

"Long day?" A familiar voice inquires from somewhere behind me, relief and joy replacing the brief moment of annoyance as I quickly roll onto my front, eyes finding the tall vampire in the doorway with ease. Grinning, I somehow manage to scramble over the back of the sofa, running to him as soon as my feet touch the ground again, my arms wrapping around his torso in way of greeting, his own, longer, limbs following suit, crushing me into his bare chest.

"You have no idea." I murmur out to him, resting my chin on his collarbone, before he cups it in one hand, pulling my face to his for a soft kiss. Only too happy to reciprocate, I move my hands up to the sides of his neck, brushing away some of the dark strands of hair that float around his face tenderly, the vampire smiling into the kiss as he feels me do so, pressing me tighter against him.

Breaking apart, we remain pressed together for a little while, just looking at each other happily, until my stomach decides it wants to interrupt, growling loudly in the comfortable silence.

"Hungry?" Dwayne questions me, smirking when I give him a light slap on the chest.

"Very, but I'm too lazy to cook anything, and I haven't got the money to order a takeout again." I inform him, referring to the ridiculous amounts of Chinese food I've eaten in recent weeks thanks to my lack of energy when it comes to preparing food for myself.

"Well then, let's cook something together." The brunette proposes, pulling away from me so he can walk into the kitchen, immediately going to the fridge.

"You can cook?" I ask sceptically; there aren't exactly many places to learn cookery skills in the cave he and his friends call home.

Giving me a look of mock offense, Dwayne proceeds to pull out a variety of ingredients from the fridge, raiding the cupboards for spices and other essentials, gesturing to me to help him.

"Of course I can cook! I'm sure you'll find that I'm not too bad, either." He responds confidently, pulling a knife from the block on the counter, starting to chop some vegetables on the island in the centre of the room, his movements fluid and practised.

"I'm holding you to that." I tease him, joining him at the counter, helping him with the food as much as I can, "No garlic?"

At my words, he stops, looking me dead in the eye with a horribly serious expression on his face, my own matching his.

"You wanna kill me?" He finally responds, a glint in his dark brown eyes.

"Oh, come on! Garlic doesn't kill you, so don't act like a victim here." I laugh, returning to the task at hand.

"No, but that doesn't mean the experience is pleasant." He grins, lifting an eyebrow at me as I recall the last time I accidentally put garlic in some food I let him eat; let's just say it didn't end well.

"True." I shrug, finishing up the vegetables as he goes to get a pan, placing it on the stove and lighting the gas, quickly heating some oil in it.

In no time, we've managed to knock up a decent meal for the two of us to eat, both of us only too happy to finally sit down and enjoy it. Our conversation continues on through the meal, both of us laughing and joking with each other as often as we usually do, though I can feel the fatigue from before starting to creep back into me, the long day of work finally beginning to show its side-effects again. Clearly, the tall brunette notices this, as observant as ever, quickly making sure to bring this up.

"Feeling tired?" He comments as we finish up, standing and taking the dishes to the sink, where he leaves them before coming back over to me, smiling at the yawn that suddenly leaves me.

"Yeah, I think work took a lot out of me today." I confirm, getting up from my seat and going to the fridge, where I know there is some chocolate. I grab it and snap off a bar, offering some to Dwayne, who politely declines as he always does.

"What were you doing?" He inquires, leaning back against the island.

"Hedging. All day." I inform him, frowning as I recall the long, strenuous hours of holding up the heavy hedge trimmers, as well as the tediousness of having to go back over the same hedges with a pair of secateurs to make sure everything is neat.

"Sounds painful." The vampire sympathises, casting a look at my exposed arms, as if trying to see the muscular damage that may well have occurred from lifting weighty machinery all day.

"Damn right it is, but you get used to it." I reassure him, leading the way back into the adjoined living room.

"If you say so."

A low chuckle leaves him as he notices me trying to stifle another yawn, my eyelids now fighting to stay open as I collapse onto the sofa, the vampire soon joining me there his arm wrapped around me as he pulls me into his body. Gratefully, I nuzzle into his cool, bare chest, inhaling the familiar scent of cologne, motor oil and dust, smiling as he starts to rub soothing circles into my back, relaxing into the embrace as much as I can. We remain quiet, his movements slowly lulling me into a lethargic state, my eyelids struggling to stay open as I fight to stay conscious, unwilling to let the night end so soon, knowing we haven't been able to spend too long together tonight, on the scale of things, wishing my human body didn't need to rest as frequently as it does.

"You really should get some sleep, (Y/n), you look exhausted." Dwayne advises softly, brushing some hair from my face as I look up at him, barely able to keep myself from drifting off.

"No, I don't want to waste time with you." I argue, tracing a finger over his muscular chest.

"You're not, I like watching you sleep," He reassures me, flicking me gently when I mutter a quiet creep to him, "You can barely stay awake as it is. Just go to sleep."

Once again, I go to protest, only to stop when I catch sight of the look in his eyes, closing my mouth with a smile, finally nodding at him.

"Fine, but only if we can go to the Boardwalk tomorrow night." I negotiate, smirking at him as he rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure the boys will love that, but sure." He accepts, grinning a little at the sarcastic reference to the other three vampires he lives with, knowing that they hate when I come with him because I always take up his attention. I smile at him again, cuddling into his chest as he holds me closer against him, pressing a kiss against my hairline as he continues the movements of his thumbs on my skin, trying to help me fall asleep. Underneath me, his cold body provides a welcome change from the warm air surrounding us, my muscles relaxing against him as I finally give in to the urges I've been ignoring, closing my eyes and falling into the darkness behind their lids.