#messages from the vampire den
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I blame you for turning me into a Nikolai lover, what do you mean he's bouncing us on his lap, that's crazy 🙈 I imagine you'd be delirious with exhaustion and what can you do but lean into his chest, so tired that you can't even try to bite him and just go limp, trusting him in some small way bc you can't get your bearings yet and everyone's a stranger, and a loud stranger bit you and you don't know where you are and who or whatever holding you is nice and sturdy and soft enough to be comfortable, and everything's so scary and dangerous, surely you can rest your eyes for a moment while whoever's holding you so nicely is bouncing you? and what a nice voice that rumbles in your your ear, even if you can't pick out what he's saying, surely someone so nice won't mind if you catch a little shuteye
absolutely love your writing, it's like you pried open my brain and went "hmmm what would be as attractive as possible" I hope that makes sense 💕💕
So. This is completely unrelated and I mean this in a humorous way. But I am a little paranoid when reading message previews right after getting an anon that disagrees with me on how I'm doing things. So I'll see so many asks like this where the preview in the notifications will just say "I blame you..." and I'll be like oh god oh fuck what have I done and then I'll click on it and be like oh lol it was a fun and cool thing nevermind.
Anyways.... it's no secret that I love Nikolai as a softdom/caregiver type guy. So I love this so much. And honestly you can crucify me if you want but I'd like to take it even further if you'll follow me to see what's behind door number one...
CW: this is kinda edging on ddlg/cgl and by that i mean its got mindless finga suckin'
From Nikolai's point of view, Johnny is barely past being a fledgling himself. Hardly fit to be siring his own vampires, even less fit to take care of them. And besides, if he knows Price (and he likes to think he does), Johnny will likely be separated from you while John comes to a decision of what to do about this whole kerfuffle. So you're without guidance, as it stands. And that won't do.
It's already clear to Nikolai that Soap was too excited with his new find that he didn't even bother to find you a meal before spiriting you back to the den. You're certainly acting starved and dizzy-- easily pushed around. He pulls at your lip to inspect the fangs that have only just begun to take shape from your incisors. And if your wincing is anything to go by, they're still very sensitive. He can't very well take you out now, so he does the next best thing.
A drop of his own blood lands on his tongue as his fang punctures the calloused skin of his index finger before slipping it into your mouth. You perk up a little when a rivulet of ichor slides back into your throat, gently sucking at the wound before teething a bit mindlessly at the flesh by his knuckle.
The older vampire keeps you curled into him, murmuring praises and encouragements and sweetness against your hairline in words you can't fully parse, but just listening and tasting him and closing your eyes makes it all feel so much easier.
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Taking commissions for some Animal Jam items:
I've been playing Animal Jam Classic lately, and drawing in their Art Studio, and I cobbled together a wish list of random items I want. I'll draw a piece of art for you for some of those items; it doesn't specifically have to be for an in-game Masterpiece item. Check below the Read More for the list of items I'm looking for.
(And of course my commissions for $ USD are always open still!)
Please trade me at least one item off the list below in exchange for a piece of art.
Please message me about your proposed commission and what items you'd like to trade! Let me know if you want this drawn as a Masterpiece item, or if you just want a regular image file in exchange, probably done in MS Paint in a similar style above.
Give me a few days to get the drawing done!
If you want me to draw your avatar, I am not going to draw culturally insensitive items. I'll let you know if I have an issue with your proposition.
I can take payment when the art done/approved and we can trade, but I can also do half-payment up front.
If you want a Masterpiece item:
A Masterpiece Token included in the trade is appreciated, but not required. (Especially if I don't currently have membership.)
Give the art time to be approved. If it isn't, I'll see if we can work something out.
Please keep complexity down, especially in regards to colour schemes.
Click below for my wish list! Items I already have have been moved to a list at the end. I'll update it as I see things that catch my eye.
Check out the Animal Jam Wiki (link) to look up these items (or other related pages). (I also said what event they were from if applicable.)
Den items:
Mira Tapestry (2017 Mira v Zios event)
Glowing Spiked Phantom (2019 box prize)
Clothing:
Phantom Beanie (2017 Fall box prize)
Slime Green skullies (2022 trick-or-treat event)
Cursed Hypno glasses (2021 spooky sale)
Huntress hat (this is the only members item here)
Low priority:
Any other* promotional plushies (for non-members)! I love them ::-) [*Note: I now have: Rare giant panda, Rare giant raccoon, Rare monkey, Rare penguin, Rare koala]
Any Slime Green clothes (for non-members)
Non-member Halloween masks from 2022 (Classic Vampire Mask, Wicked Witch Mask)
My Den has other art I've done, some of which is from 2024 but some is from 2017! My username is 113457.
Items that were previously here, but are no longer needed:
Painter's Palette ("Let creativity fly" collection)
Fancy Pottery Wheel (same)
Cosmo plushie (2023 scavenger hunt)
Peck plushie (same)
Rare Wavy Bookshelf (2013 rare item monday)
Rare Giant Panda Plushie (promotional)
Rare Giant Tiger plushie (Lunar new year prize)
Art Camp Bead Station (2021 Art Camp collection)
Mira Banner (2017 MvZ event, not to be confused with the Beta mira banner)
Rare Hypno Glasses
Classic Werewolf mask (2022 spooky sale)
Classic Creature mask (same)
A green spiked collar for non-members
Spooky Mech Angel Wings
#animal jam#jamblr#animal jam classic#ajc#commissions#art commissions#animal jam commissions#masterpiece commissions#fortis arbor's art#image described#wolf character belongs to my friend dog ::-)#i also have just a bunch of random items from over the years so if ur interested in trading normal-style let me know.
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If you think about it, both Dorian and Dracula were ruining/taking lives while maintaining/regaining youth. Though there's no portrait in Dracula's case, unless you count his oldness going to youthful Jonathan.
You're right, the more you look for parallels the more considerable they become.
Going to pop the rest of this under a cut for Dracula spoilers and discussion of suicide.
While Jonathan doesn't explicitly age like the portrait does, he undoubtedly looks older once Dracula has finished preying on him than he did at the start, as well as the other ways in which he and Dracula swap places (e.g. Dracula going out wearing Jonathan's clothes).
Association with both of them is damning too. In Dracula's case literally, as the people he feeds on become vampires in turn. In Dorian's case because he drags his victims down with him. Sometimes that is also literal: it includes two deaths by suicide, namely Alan Campbell and "that wretched boy in the Guards", and suicide is traditionally a mortal sin.
There are parallels in their victims. Dorian makes use of social convention to avoid the consequences of his actions, particularly as an upper-class man who preys on lower-class women (among others); an affair with him is socially ruinous for women but he comes out nearly unscathed. Dracula doesn't choose his victims quite as deliberately, but his choice of Lucy has the same effect. For instance, when Dracula lures Lucy out of the house in Whitby, Mina's first priority is to keep that a secret for the sake of her reputation.
They are both at their most powerful in their own spheres: Dracula in Transylvania, Dorian among London high society. They struggle when they step outside those spheres: the people in the opium den come much closer to recognising Dorian for what he is that anyone from the upper classes; Dracula is foiled by travelling to England. We don't see Dorian leave the country (we know he goes on holiday, but that doesn't really count) but I feel like if he went fully out of his sphere, he might be more readily identified. (A factor here is that Bram Stoker is more willing to demonise a foreigner than Oscar Wilde is willing to demonise the British upper classes).
And writing this has made me realise that pop culture Dracula - suave, sexy, encouraging people to lose their inhibitions - actually resembles Dorian quite a bit more than actual Dracula.
There's also at least one difference where you might expect a similarity. A key theme in Dracula is the relationship between the generations: Dracula is old age eating youth, Van Helsing is old age guiding and advising youth.
Meanwhile, something that strikes me about Dorian Gray that it's oddly timeless; we get told that twenty years have passed, but there's never much of a sense of that beyond everyone else looking older and Dorian remaining unchanged. No one has children, no one dies of old age, society and technology seem much the same from the start of the 20-year span of the novel to the end, despite the significant changes of the late 19th century.
And that timelessness, I think, is part of how little the novel is interested in the relationships between generations. There's not much sense that Dorian is now a middle-aged man (by Victorian standards, don't get annoyed with me, I'm in my 30s too) acting out a young man's role. There could be, it would be consistent with the plot, but that's not something that Wilde explores. There is a very strong message that Dorian should be a better person but not that he's behaving in an age-inappropriate way.
(I wonder if this relates to the novel's autobiographical elements. It can be fun and sexy to think of yourself as debauched and evil and corrupting but not so much as someone who's just been acting like a teenager for a decade too long).
This plays into other things as well. Dracula is a deliberately modern novel: it has telegrams, typewriters and trains. It's the battle of the modern against the medieval. Dorian Gray doesn't have any of these things. The conversation in chapter 3 about Americans is very much of its time, but there's not much else that places the action anywhere in the 19th century in particular. Dorian Gray is captured by a portrait, not a photograph. And he lives an oddly old-fashioned life, in some ways, for someone who is supposed to represent the Spirit of the Age. That's not a criticism of the novel, but it feels notable. It makes me wonder how Dorian Gray might have differed if Dracula had been written first and Wilde had read it.
Anyway, that was probably more rambling than you wanted, anon, but thank you for the ask, it was fun to consider :)
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Exile (Or: How you learned to stay) | Ch. 8 - Shadowheart: Hanging

// Ascended Astarion x Reader (Fem!Durge) + Shadowheart x Reader (Fem!Durge)
Shadowheart returns to Astarion's palace with Gale and Minthara. Things go about as well as you'd expect.
18+ • NSFW • 3.7K words (8/?) | Read on AO3 (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat - Check tags for warnings)
You steel your nerves as you approach Astarion’s palace. A potion bottle is pressed tight to your chest. You keep it against your skin so you can feel it, so you know you have it. It’s the critical first half of a plan that could give her an advantage.
The potion has to work. You can’t fail her. You won’t fail. If you don’t get this right, all is lost.
You glance over at Gale. He’s facing forward, not looking at you. What is going through his mind? He’s been quiet since you started your journey here.
The sun shines brightly in the sky, a striking contrast to the first time you came. Back then, it was so dark. There was only a sliver of the moon in the sky to light your path. Perhaps that was a warning.
You were on a mission to rescue Astarion then. Now, you’re fighting to undo the mistakes of that night.
The spawn come in the dead of night. You were sleeping. You wake to a fight. You fail. They take him.
They take Astarion.
She gathers her things, holding back angry tears as she pulls on her gear. Blood drips down into her eye from a deep gash on her forehead. “They took him. They took him and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop them. I failed — I failed him,” she says.
“It’s not your fault,” you whisper. “We were all here. This does not rest on your shoulders alone.”
The rage on her face is unmistakable, there’s a tremble in her voice when she tells you to get dressed. Her breath comes in rapid-fire bursts. She’s not thinking clearly.
“Just breathe, love. We’ll get him,” you say, trying to find your conviction. You reach for her, but she pulls away. Your heart sinks. She won’t let you touch her. She won’t let you comfort her.
You begin to whisper a healing spell.
“Save your magic. We’ll need it,” her voice is flat and distant.
She won’t let you heal her.
“Let me do this, please,” you say.
“No.” She sheaths her daggers and slings a light crossbow over her back. “I’m not worth it.”
“A potion, then. I am not foolish enough to set foot in a vampire den with someone who is actively bleeding,” you say.
She grunts something that you accept as a begrudging ‘okay, fine.’ You reach into your pack and find a small healing potion. You take her wrist and press the bottle into her hand. For a moment, it’s as though she comes back to you.
Her eyes soften. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Shadowheart. He wasn’t ever supposed to go back to that place.”
“I know,” you say. “He’s going to be okay.”
“We were going to handle this without him.” She curls her fingers around the potion bottle but doesn’t pull her hand away from yours.
Your thumb moves in small circles around her wrist. An attempt to comfort her. “I know.”
She stares at you with wide eyes, her chest heaving with each breath. Her lips are softly parted.
You wish to pull her into your arms, to comfort her in the only way you know how. But she is not yours to hold. Not anymore. When all this is over, Cazador, the cult, the brain — maybe you can win her back.
“He’s going to want to ascend,” she whispers. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop him.”
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Bonus oneshot: Palisade afternoon
#baldur's gate 3#astarion bg3#ascended astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#af.op
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book log - 2022
his last wife by gia pere
a very merry bromance by lyssa kay adams
behind the messages by ella-may williams
the wife upstairs by rachel hawkins
pride, prejudice, & turkish delight by k.c. mccormick ciftci
the long way to a small, angry planet by becky chambers
honeymoon for one by rachel bowdier
let it snow by beth moran
resting scrooge face by meghan quinn
window shopping by tessa bailey
the family upstairs by lisa jewell
poster girl by veronica roth
x by sue grafton
queen bee by nina manning
the vibrant years by sonali dev
untamed by glennon doyle
book lovers by emily henry
the zookeeper's wife by diane ackerman
daisy darker by alice feeney
mating in captivity by esther perel
miss meteor by tehlor kay mejia
carrie soto is back by taylor jenkins reid
a good girl's guide to murder by holly jackson
the lesbiana's guide to catholic school by sonora reyes
fat chance, charlie vega by crystal maldonado
lakelore by anne-marie mclemore
you love me by caroline kepnes
happiness for beginners by katherine center
not my daughter by barbara delinsky
last tang standing by lauren ho
no filter and other lies by crystal maldonado
the southern book club's guide to slaying vampires by grady hendrix
does my body offend you? by mayra cuevas
i'm the girl by courtney summers
the expatriates by janice y.k. lee
emily, gone by bette lee crosby
after hours on milagro street by angelina m. lopez
i'm glad my mom died by jennette mccurdy
my best friend's exorcism by grady hendrix
#murderfunding by gretchen mcneil
looking for jane by heather marshall
midwife murders by james patterson
final cut by s.j. watson
darling rose gold by stephanie wrobel
all the pretty people by barbara freethy
when i was you by minka kent
been there, married that by gigi levangie
malibu rising by taylor jenkins reid
covery story by susan rigetti
the paris apartment by lucy foley
stiletto sisterhood by fallon demornay
her perfect secret by t.j. brearton
take a chance on me by beth moran
the watcher girl by minka kent
no conscience by phil m. williams
reminders of him by colleen hoover
her last move by john marrs
we were dreamers by simu liu
the book of cold cases by simone st. james
all i stole from you by ava bellows
violeta by isabel allende
once of us is next - karen m. mcmanus
just the way you are by beth moran
the latecomer by jean hanff jorelitz
klara and the sun by kazuo ishiguro
the sorority murder by allison brennan
one italian summer by rebecca serle
what lies between us by john marrs
the maid by nita prose
sex and vanity by kevin kwan
funny you should ask by elissa sussman
the seven day switch by kelly harms
three perfect liars by heidi perks
everything must go by camille pagan
no ex before marriage by portia macintosh
the other mother by carol goodman
california girls by susan mallery
one little secret by cate holahan
apples never fall by liane moriarty
the promise by teresa driscoll
ghost boy by martin pistorius
close to you by ana jolene
oona out of order by margarita montimore
the stepson by jane renshaw
all adults here by emma straub
his & hers by alice feeney
mexican gothic by silvia moreno-garcia
anatomy by dana schwartz
the resting place by camilla sten
will by will smith
good me, bad me by ali land
while we were dating by jasmine guillory
the lion's den by katherine st. john
when we left cuba by chanel cleeton
left neglected by lisa genova
the suspect by fiona barton
park avenue summer by renee rosen
group therapy by b.b. easton
the half sister by sandie jones
shipped by angie hockman
when we were sisters by emilie richards
the chain by adrian mckintu
not a happy family by shari lapena
clap when you land by elizabeth acevedo
if the shoe fits by julie murphy
the girlfriend by michelle frances
let me hear a rhyme by tiffany d. jackson
death by dumpling by vivien chien
yoga pant nation by laurie gelman
the cousins by karen m. mcmanus
in a holidaze by christina lauren
people we meet on vacation by emily henry
the candy house by jennifer egan
you've been volunteered by laurie gelman
broken by jenny lawson
you can't be serious by kal penn
the final girl support group by grady hendrix
home before dark by riley sager
one of us is lying by kate m. mcmanus
the vanishing half by brit bennett
the cross and the switchblade by david wilkerson
the henna wars by adiba jaigridar
the fashion orphans by randy susan meyers
the good girl by mary kubica
the comeback by ella berman
the magician's nephew by c.s. lewis
the bright lands by john fram
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To Hunt a Vampire (1/17)
Hunt Log #1
Day 1:
As of today, I shall start recording my daily achievements in the hunt for the Count or Countess, I’m not quite sure, actually, but what I do know is that New Wallachia, Massachusetts, is no longer safe. It all started last when my granpappy called me over during a family reunion, and gifted me his old slayer whip, made of pure holy silver and waxed in garlic oil. He handed me his prized treasure and leaned over to whisper in my ear,
“Run.”
And so I did. I ran and ran, across the Massachusetts border, and straight to New Wallachia, but they’ve found me again. Don’t know how or when, but they’re here, I can feel it. So I began to hunt and slay. Or atleast I would have if I wasn’t in prison for running the border.
Anyways now I’m out and the hunt is on. Today I investigated my neighbors house, as I could feel evil and malcontent seeping from their walls. From the roof of my house I made a leap over the fence that protects her metaphorical palace, after which I made my way into the kitchen. There was shattered glass on the ground. Clearly her prey had struggled earlier. Further I’d travelled into the demon’s den, and more disturbing imagery I’d found. Magical apparatuses that broadcast seemingly satanic messages from the Nefarious Possession Report (what I assume NPR stands for) and finally, I stumble upon the bedroom. There before me stands a robed figure looking at me. She has decided to confront me. And so it was.
When all was said and done. She wasn’t the one. Oh well… it’s all for the greater good. The Count and/or Countess will fall to my hands.
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C.R.O.W (chapter 16)
Victoria leaned against the cold, rough wall, her back pressed firmly against its surface. Ashley stood by her side, their bodies tense and hearts racing. The air was heavy with a sense of impending danger as they awaited Rex's signal, knowing that he and Justin were positioned somewhere on the opposite side of the building. This was new for all of them. They had never attempted to take out a nest when they knew humans would be present.
For this Victoria was grateful Grendel and Milo wasn't there on time that night. They had proven themselves strong. But Rex was right, Grendel was a loose canon and was unpredictable. The humans may have put themself in this situation, but that didn't mean they should die for it.
The night had quickly descended upon them. Making this mission out of the ordinary for another reason. This granted the vampires an extra measure of strength. However, the hunters took solace in the fact that the bloodsuckers were preoccupied within the building. Unlike the previous nest they had eliminated, caution was imperative this time.
They needed to ensure they didn't inadvertently harm any humans, even though these individuals willingly participated in the grotesque act of allowing vampires to feed from them. Victoria couldn't help but shudder at the thought of these humans, willingly placing their lives in such perilous danger. The place was reminiscent of an opioid den and a brothel.
Most of the people where half naked and high. Lounging around, oblivious to anything around them. This made it particularly hard to have any empathy for the willing participants. But this was a fight against the vampires, and regardless of how foolish they were. At the end of the day they were still humans.
Her focus sharpened, Victoria eagerly awaited the signal from Rex, her gaze fixed on her phone. A silent text message arrived, causing a surge of adrenaline to course through her veins. It was time to make their move. Victoria and Ashley swiftly swarmed into the room from one side, while Rex and Justin advanced from the other, effectively blocking all escape routes.
Armed with the new weapons provided by Miller, this raid felt entirely different. For the first time, they were executing their plan in the presence of humans, no matter how morally reprehensible they might have been.
The hunters unleashed a barrage of water projectiles, the modified water guns in Ashley and Justin's hands far more sophisticated and expensive than the ones typically found at children's birthday parties. The room erupted with the splattering sound of water hitting flesh as they soaked everyone in sight. Rex and Victoria were responsible for delivering the lethal blows, shooting anyone who started to smoke from the water. It was an unsettling sight, even more disturbing than anything Victoria had witnessed before, as screams echoed from the humans throughout the room and chaos ensued.
Just when Victoria thought they had the situation under control. Several humans, realizing that the hunters' weapons were nothing more than harmless water, launched themselves at Ashley and Justin, overpowering them. In the midst of the ensuing confusion, a few vampires managed to escape, slipping away into the night.
Casting a quick glance around the room, Victoria noticed that the majority of those left behind were human. Determined not to let any more vampires flee, she took it upon herself to pursue them.
As Victoria sprinted through the dimly lit alley, her heart pounding in her chest, she unexpectedly collided with Grendel. For a few seconds Grendel's firm grip held her in place as she tried to regain her bearings. With a swift glance around, she scanned the surroundings, searching for any trace of the escaping vampires.
"You're late," Victoria mustered, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and reproach. As her eyes met the gaze of one of the vampires, she noticed him freeze at the end of the alley, his eyes locked not on her but on Grendel. Confusion washed over her. Why wasn't he fleeing like the others? Before she could process the situation, she saw the look the vampire was giving Grendel, a mix of spite and rage.
In that fleeting moment, Grendel's eyes darkened, a seething hatred emanating from him with an intensity she had never witnessed before. A surge of concern coursed through Victoria, prompting her to open her mouth to question him. However, before she could utter a word, Grendel turned towards her, his face adorned with a disarming smile.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Grendel said, his voice laced with an air of nonchalance. "Looks like you had already begun the fun without us."
Releasing his grip on her, Grendel let Victoria go, allowing her to regain her balance. As Milo approached the two of them, a sense of relief washed over Victoria. Despite the lingering questions in her mind, the presence of the two of them provided a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos unfolding around them. Any escaping vampires wouldn't have a chance with the three of them.
"Is the guy with the weird gloves with you?" Milo asked as he approached the two.
"Gloves?" Victoria asked, her voice tinged with confusion. The rest of their group remained inside the building. Who was he talking about?
In a sudden and shocking turn of events, Miller emerged from the shadows, pushing Milo aside with an urgency that pierced the tense silence. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between himself and Grendel, his intentions masked by a grim determination. Before Victoria could process what was happening, a sickening crunch of bones shattered the air, sending a shiver down her spine.
Miller now loomed over Grendel, his face contorted with a mixture of anguish and determination. Echoes of a ripping sound reverberated through the alleyway as Miller's hand, encased in the industrial-strength gauntlet, plunged mercilessly into Grendel's chest. The scene played out in a nightmarish tableau, each second stretching into an eternity.
Wet gurgling sounds escaped Grendel's lips as he attempted to pull away from Miller, his body instinctively rejecting the intrusion. But all resistance was futile. In an instant, Grendel's hands dropped limply to his sides, and a lifeless gaze consumed his eyes. Miller withdrew his hand, revealing a mass of bloody tissue clutched within his grip, Grendel's heart.
Victoria's heart pounded in her chest, disbelief and sorrow coursing through her veins. What had just happened? Why was Miller here? and why had he taken Grendel's heart? She was left with all questions an no answers, leaving her paralyzed.
Before Victoria could utter a word, Miller was propelled backward, crashing into the wall with an incredible force that shook the surroundings. The impact dislodged the lamp above, causing it to sway and casting eerie shadows amidst the crackling tension. It was as if an unseen force had thrown Miller back, leaving everyone bewildered.
But her attention swiftly shifted to Milo, who stood over Miller with an air of raw power and dominance. His hand clenched tightly around Miller's throat, his other hand pinning Miller's free hand against the wall. A surge of dark energy emanated from the pair, enveloping them in an ominous aura.
"Give it back!" Milo's voice reverberated with an intensity and fury that surpassed anything she had ever seen from him before. Victoria felt a chill crawl up her spine, witnessing a side of Milo she had never imagined existed. His anger seemed to radiate from deep within, fueled by an insatiable desire to reclaim what was taken.
Miller, despite his disadvantaged position, wore a twisted smile, seemingly reveling in the unfolding chaos. His eyes met Milo's, a gleam of fascination and amusement dancing within them. "Now, isn't that something? You're something new, aren't you?" Miller's voice dripped with sinister delight, his words hinting at a deeper understanding of Milo's true nature.
In response, Milo pulled his head back before forcefully slamming it against the wall, an act of brutal determination. "I said give it back!" His words echoed with a mix of desperation and unyielding resolve. Victoria strained to observe their confrontation, but the encroaching darkness, like an ethereal fog, swallowed both combatants, obscuring their figures from her sight.
The mysterious darkness intensified, shrouding the alley in an atmosphere of foreboding. Victoria stood frozen. The clash between Milo and Miller had transcended the physical realm, delving into something far more enigmatic and dangerous.
As the ephemeral fog dissipated, revealing the aftermath of the intense confrontation, Miller lay sprawled on the ground, subdued and defeated. Meanwhile, Milo, carrying an air of solemn determination, made his way back to Grendel's lifeless form, cradling the precious heart delicately in his hands.
In the midst of everything that was going on, Rex, Ashley, and Justin emerged from the building, watched on with disbelief, frozen in shock.
Milo crouched down beside Grendel's motionless body, his touch gentle yet unwavering. With great care, he eased Grendel's heart back into the cavity that remained, aligning it precisely. As Milo withdrew his hand, a profound transformation began to unfold. Tremors coursed through Grendel's revived form, his body responding to the reunion with his heart. Milo held him close, supporting his head as he choked up blood.
Victoria, observing the scene unfold, felt a profound sense of realization wash over her. She had known that Milo and Grendel shared a deep bond, but witnessing this extraordinary display chilled her. At that moment she knew neither of them could have been human. But for the briefest of seconds, none of that mattered.
In that moment, the complexities of their mission and the secrets they harbored seemed insignificant. The bond between Milo and Grendel transcended the boundaries of anything she had ever seen, their connection etched with a depth of emotion that moved Victoria to her core.
As Grendel's consciousness gradually resurfaced from the depths of uncertainty, his survival instincts propelled him to seek solace in the presence of Milo. Gasping for air, he reached out, his trembling hand yearning for the reassurance of his companion's touch.
Milo held him close, enveloping him in an embrace of unwavering support. With one arm wrapped protectively around Grendel's trembling form, Milo pressed their foreheads together, their heads nestled intimately against each other. In this tender moment, their shared bond became a lifeline.
However, the tranquility was abruptly shattered as Miller made his move. Swiftly approaching Milo from behind, he seized him by the head, forcefully tearing him away from Grendel's grasp. Before Milo could react, a sharp pain pierced his neck as Miller injected a syringe into his flesh. Within seconds, Milo succumbed, his body succumbing to the immobilizing effects of the injected substance.
Grendel, fueled by a surge of adrenaline, managed to regain his strength, pulling himself up. As he reached out, an unexpected projection emerged from his hand. In the same instant, a spark ignited from the street lamp above them, casting a haunting shadow over Miller.
Miller, undeterred by the unfolding chaos, seized Grendel's arm with a vise-like grip, deliberately contorting it in a grotesque manner, causing his elbow to bend in a direction nature had never intended. Grendel howled in pain, his features twisted in anguish.
Unrelenting in his assault, Miller then seized Grendel by his hair, asserting control over his battered form. With a callous disregard for his well-being, Miller plunged a second syringe into Grendel's vulnerable neck, injecting the unknown substance into his bloodstream.
#vampires#writing#wattpad#vampire#gaz042#chapter 16#crow#C.R.O.W#gothic stories#vampire writing#warm blooded vampires series
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DEVIL IN DISGUISE
Artist: @skylar102
Rating: M
Pairing: Malec
Word Count: 48.500
This fic was created for the Mini Bang 2023 presented by the @malecdiscordserver
CHAPTER 6/7 Unleashed

"God, Magnus, what have you done?"
The Vampire’s voice holds stupor and dismay in it as if he could not believe his eyes. Truthfully, the scene before him is nothing less than horrifying. It reminds him of what he found inside a rogue vampire’s den a while ago. It was macabre. And Raphael is pretty used to dealing with blood, isn’t he? But so much of it? From just one man? He is frozen on his spot, disturbingly aware that the blood, on the floor and all over the walls as well, belongs to one of his friends.
"What I had to."
Magnus answers him, his burning eyes glowing with a feral amber light.
"Did you torture him? Angels above, Magnus… Meliorn has always been one of us, how could you…”
Raphael can hear the horribly beaten man’s slow heartbeat, so he knows he is still alive. For now, at least. Magnus looks different, though. He has never looked more like a Prince of Hell than now.
“Meliorn is hiding something from us. I know the Queen is involved in this mess, and he will tell me where that fucking Sword is. Unless his loyalty to the Queen is worth losing his life.”
“I didn't think you would go this far... The Queen won't forgive you so easily if you kill him."
Magnus rolls his liquid golden eyes, snorting. As if he cared about the Queen; though, he cares about his dear Vampire’s feelings. Raphael may be difficult to deal with but he has always been a loyal friend and a fair man.
"Look, Raphael, I didn’t have fun doing this, ok? Ragnor here can confirm that I tried to reason with him at first.”
“He did.” Ragnor confirms, calmly, sitting comfortably in an armchair on the other side of the room, unbothered, looking carelessly at the Seelie man chained to the ceiling by his arms stretched upward as if he meant nothing to him, as if his life meant nothing.
Meliorn seems to be unconscious; his face an unrecognizable mask of blood and bruises and his eyes are swollen and black all around. Raphael wonders if looking like that, he’s going to lose his sight. He is shirtless and his torso is covered in cuts and bruising contusions. And a mix of dried and fresh blood as well. So much… blood.
All in all, the scene is quite disturbing to watch, especially because of the utter stillness of the man, which appears somehow unnatural.
As they step further into what seems to have become a chamber of horrors, Raphael hears the terrified gasp the Warlock that he is roughly pushing inside lets out, perhaps realizing he is the next one. Raphael also notices the slight but constant shaking of his body. Galaster hasn’t drawn a single breath since they walked in, probably as shocked as the Vampire was at being faced with such barbarity.
After Ragnor caught him and brought him to Magnus’ hideout, the High Warlock welcomed him and seemed ready to deal with him right away, but something made him change his mind. In fact, a fire message arrived, out of the blue. The tone of those written words, read aloud by Magnus for everyone’s benefit, was urgent and frantic, asking, demanding Magnus to open a portal for whomever it was. Magnus looked mischievously pleased by the unexpected visit and ordered Raphael to take Galaster, already handcuffed with special restraints blocking his magic, to another room. Magnus was emanating a spine-chilling, frightening aura and was sporting a wicked smile on his lips; that was a grimace Galaster has never witnessed before. Before being dragged away, he saw Magnus open the portal, and Meliorn step out of it. It seemed much more like a trap, but Galaster couldn’t know what happened next. He guessed Magnus and Ragnor would proceed to interrogate the man about the Queen’s real intentions. On the other hand, the Queen had just tried to trick him, or so Ragnor told him, and surely Magnus wouldn’t trust Meliorn to be on his side, despite their century-old friendship.
But this was no interrogation… This was brutal and merciless agony. Galaster has made many bad decisions in his life. Decisions he is not proud of. In the past, he had thought for a long time that Valentine could really be the only hope against Demons... But then the outcast Shadowhunter turned out to be a visionary psycho-murderer and Galaster regretted having fought alongside him. He contributed to the deaths of his fellow Warlocks. Of innocent Downworlders. But Galaster has always been a coward and has been in hiding for 20 years, knowing he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. Magnus Bane, instead, has always been a man of different moral stature. So far at least. Now he too seems to have lost that same humanity that makes Warlocks better than their demonic parents.
Galaster starts squirming against Raphael’s body. He is terrified. Meliorn was Magnus’ friend, so he can’t even think about what the Warlock may have in store for him. What kind of physical and mental torture he will make him endure? And Galaster is not that strong, is he?
“Unfortunately, I still need confirmation that the Sword is kept at the Seelie Court.” Magnus goes on, wiping his bloody hands on a rag. He could have cleaned them magically, but the effect would be different. Way less dramatic or horrid.
Raphael holds the Warlock firmly, still gawking at Magnus with a shocked expression. Magnus is finally showing what his true nature is, isn’t he? He is more than just a half demon, in his veins runs the blood of one of the most powerful Greater Demons. Raphael gets it, but this? Torture?
His face must be showing his consternation, because Magnus laughs at him, half amused and half annoyed.
“By Lilith, Raphael, don’t look so appalled! Meliorn is a tough nut to crack. But I am going to give him a little respite, ok? I guess I can lavish some of my attention on our dear Galaster now. What do you say, Ragnor, will we be luckier with this one? Will he tell us what we want to know? Or will he break too soon… He doesn’t seem very… resilient.”
At that moment the chained man moans and begins to cough up blood.
"Help… Please... Raph…" His voice is feeble and gurgling as he keeps drooling reddened saliva.
Magnus throws the blood-soaked rag to the ground angrily and stalks toward the man, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back violently, causing him to whine in pain again.
"Meliorn, don't be so annoying. We are having a conversation here. You better shut up and save your breath for later. Don’t worry, I’ll make you scream again soon. Now it’s Galaster’s turn, though. So, be quiet, yes? And enjoy the show.”
He releases Meliorn’s hair and spins around to stare at the other Warlock.
“Galaster, are you ready? I think you'll find these chains very interesting. They not only prevent you from using magic like the handcuffs you're wearing now, but they're made of adamas. So, they will be very unpleasant against your skin. You know that those marks don't heal, right? You will carry the scars forever, assuming you’ll survive."
"What? That's barbaric. Please Magnus, no… You can’t..."
Magnus shrugs nonchalantly, while Raphael starts pushing him to make him advance toward the chains dangling from the ceiling. The Vampire has not much of a choice, even if he doesn’t agree with Magnus’ methods, he won’t get in his way. He is not that stupid.
"Well, Galaster, I can, actually. Yet… what is gonna happen it's up to you, really. Meliorn has been useless so far and I'm losing my temper. If you tell me where is the Sword and who got it in the first place, I'll let you go, you will be free to run away and keep hiding like the filthy rat you are. Otherwise, I'll take all my wrath out on you, Galaster. This is a promise… I won’t hold back; I won’t spare you any suffering. Or even death, if necessary."
"Fuck, Magnus. We're not like that. Don’t you want to try and persuade him to cooperate? You can’t kill someone in cold blood like this."
"Oh, no? Well, watch me, Raphael. We have demon blood, my dear. And it is cold. Shadowhunters are right about that. Our blood calls for blood. And I'm sick of everything. Rebel Warlocks, hypocrite Nephilim people, and even friends who don’t trust me…”
That sounded dangerously like a threat. Raphael widens his eyes, taken aback, but shuts his mouth once and for all. Magnus’ expression softens then.
“Raphael, I would never hurt you, but I won't let this world go to shit. Not if I can avoid it. There are still people I care about and I need to make it clear to the Consul that if she doesn't want the Shadowhunter line to be exterminated, she'll have to listen to us. I’ll put my hands on that damn Sword, no matter what the cost and I am not going to hand it back to the Clave. It’s too dangerous. By Lilith… They are nothing more than a bunch of incompetents at best and bloodthirsty traitors at worst."
Magnus looks around, catching the irony in his words, and giggles briefly.
"My God, Bane, you're a monster."
Galaster whispers with a strangled voice, trying to escape the lethal grip of Raphael’s hands around his arms. But he isn’t strong enough, and his magic is obstructed by the restraints Magnus put around his wrists. Magnus lifts one of his eyebrows, smirking. Raphael shivers again.
"Am I a monster? Me? And what about you, then? You joined the Circle 20 years ago, you betrayed us and stained your hands with the blood of so many innocents. I just want justice, Galaster, and I may spare your life if you tell me where the Sword is. Otherwise, you are going to suffer… well, a lot."
A sob erupts from the Warlock’s mouth, his face transfigured by fear.
“Magnus…” Raphael knows he is not going to stop him. But…
“Raphael, if you're not strong enough, please leave the room, I've made it soundproof so you won't hear his screams, as I bet you didn't hear Meliorn's.”
Raphael shakes his head.
"No, I'll stay. I don't like this, but if this is the only way..."
"You know it is... We need to retrieve the Sword before it's too late. Shall we proceed?”
With a flick of his wrist, Meliorn is freed from the chains and his battered body slumps awkwardly to the ground.
Ragnor stands up from the armchair and kicks him away with his foot, making room for Galaster to take his place. When he deems it enough room, he turns to the Vampire. The British Warlock oddly seems to be having a great time.
"Raphael, bring him here so I can hang him. I think Meliorn has passed out again and won't wake up anytime soon. Magnus went a little rough on him.” He sounds almost amused by the situation.
“Magnus, this time try to make this last a little longer, ok?" He concludes and Magnus shrugs,as to say “I’ll try” and starts rolling up his sleeves intently. Raphael thrusts Galaster forward to make him move, but Galaster puts up some resistance.
"No… Wait, please…”
The Warlock drops to his knees, resting his forehead on the ground in prostration before Magnus; he is sobbing in earnest now, but Magnus looks down at him with undisguised contempt. For being a magical immortal being Galaster is admittedly reduced to an embarrassing begging mess. But he must know he is nowhere as powerful as Magnus, and if the High Warlock has decided to torture him to death, his only hope is to tell the truth and implore his mercy.
“Please, Magnus… I’ll talk, please.”
Magnus stops rolling his sleeves and grins.
“I’m listening.”
Galaster straightens up, sitting on his heels and looks up at Magnus like a mistreated puppy.
“Ok, sure So… Valentine... when he died… I knew I had to run away… And I never meant to go back to New York, I swear… But they found me, somehow, and they asked me to portal the Sword from Paris and to obscure any trace of the portal. They threatened me, and I thought… I could do just this one thing, right? I could disappear again, afterward, I thought… but Ragnor... Shit... I didn't mean... Please, Magnus… forgive me, ok? I'll do whatever you ask me. Just… Spare my life… I am immortal, I cannot die... Please…"
The Warlock is rambling by now, having his fear taken the best of him. Magnus’ eyes are cold and unforgiving, though. His words even more, spat out through his teeth.
"Frankly, you are unforgivable, Galaster. As I said, I have no pleasure in inflicting pain, although I am good at it since as you know, I am my father’s son, after all. Do you wanna have a taste of my skills?"
"No… For God's sake... Magnus… Please…" Galaster whines and Magnus’ eyes shine with impatience.
"Stop begging then and tell me where the Sword is, so Ragnor can bring you back to whatever sewage he found you all in one piece."
A glint of hope lights the Warlock’s eyes. He nods frantically. He will talk, he will tell Magnus anything to save his life.
"The… The Sword is… It is already in Idris, ok?” Galaster is clearly overwhelmed by sheer terror and seems now unable to stop the tears, as he tries to speak between sobs.
“They… They asked me to create a portal near… near Brooklyn so you would be indicted… But the Sword was taken to Idris, I think... Oh God… I think pretty much right after I portaled it to… to New York..."
“Whom are you talking about? Who brought it there?” Magnus asks, relentlessly. He expects the Warlock kneeling before him to say Alec’s name; Alec Lightwood and his siblings were responsible of this whole mess. He has been so damn sure, but… apparently, he has never been so wrong in his life.
"Johnathan Morgenstern.” This is the name Galaster chokes off in the end, bowing his head forward in total surrender.
Magnus frowns, wordlessly. Because Johnathan Morgenstern is, was actually, Valentine's long-dead son. So, maybe he got it wrong.
“Who?”
“You heard me right. Valentine's son. I know, he died when he was just a toddler, I… I can’t explain why, or even how he has come back… But he is not human anymore. He’s not even a Shadowhunter anymore. He returned from Hell to take his revenge. He wants... He wants to break down the gates of Hell and rule Edom together with his sister. He told me as much. And I know he has made a deal with the Queen. She… She will reign on Earth, this world will be a… colony to her Seelie Court, while Johnathan wants to dominate Hell. But… there will be no more barriers between worlds, they will merge into one single realm. With the Cup and the Sword, he will be able to control demons and annihilate all the Nephilim people who are now protecting Mundanes... So, they will all die. Everyone without demon blood in their veins will die. I am so sorry…"
Galaster seems to have regained his eloquence, but what he just said… It makes Magnus' blood run cold in his veins. Raphael and Ragnor seem equally petrified. Valentine's son? The little baby had horribly died in a fire at the Morgensterns’ mansion in Idris, shortly before Jocelyn managed to deceive and end her husband's life with the help of Lucius Greymark, the man’s parabatai. That night Jocelyn got pregnant with a girl, who was born nine months later in Alicante.
How did Johnathan even survive? One thing is for sure though; being Valentine and Jocelyn’s son, the boy must be a Shadowhunter, he has angelic blood and could not have survived in Hell. So, what Galaster said makes no sense. In any case, his angelic blood may have granted him free access to Idris until now, and if he already brought the Sword there… It would be a disaster.
“Look, there's no way he survived the fire, much less he came back from Hell. Don’t mess around with me, Galaster… You don’t wanna play this game, do you?”
The Warlock seems calmer now, as if resigned to his fate. There is not much more he can do. He is at Magnus’ mercy and there is no point in keeping the truth for himself.
“Magnus… I’m not lying. He is a monster… He has demon blood in his veins and he is powerful…”
He is not human anymore… The Warlock’s previous words sink in, eventually. Magnus’ eyes widen in realization.
"...there is something wrong with him… I mean, he’s not a Warlock, or a Seelie, but he has something absolutely demonic in him. And he is a shapeshifter… I saw him change… so he now looks like one of them... He took the place of the nephew of the Head of the Paris Institute a while ago and he had been living there for months.”
The Warlock stops speaking and looks up at Magnus, desperation and regret clear on his face.
“It’s too late, Magnus. He has the Sword…. And when he puts his hand on the Cup... He... He will destroy our world to its foundations. I am sorry… So sorry."
Magnus’ jaw twitches and his hands close in tight fists. It’s way worse than expected, but it’s not his habit to give in without a fight.
"Raphael… We have to hurry."
The Vampire nods, looking alarmed, and willing to follow Magnus’ orders.
“I know… Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it… Just… It seems that Alec is not involved, after all.”
“No, he isn’t.” Magnus admits, flatly. He is relieved, but he has no time to process what happened with the young Shadowhunter. It must be an explanation for his behavior. Raphael and Maia, and even Meliorn, they were right.
“And Isabelle either, right?”
When the Seelie man, still laying on the floor, speaks again out of the blue, Galaster trail off in surprise. Meliorn scoffs then, shaking his head and lithely sitting up. His voice is firm and steady and he glances up at Raphael, grinning at the Vampire. Then he turns his awfully swollen eyes toward Magnus.
“I told you, didn’t I? Isabelle is not a traitor.”
He stands up easily, a moment later, his lopsided smile still plastered on his bruised face. Galaster gapes at him, and he gasps in surprise when his whole body shape becomes blurred and glows with a multicolor light.
Right… He thinks. Seelie magic.
When the glimmer around his figure fades away, all the bruises, wounds, and even the blood that covered his skin have disappeared. Meliorn is completely unharmed and standing in front of the Warlock in all his angelic-and-demonic combined glory.
“What the fuck?” Galaster mutters in disbelief.
Magnus can’t help but chuckle softly at the man’s mystified reaction, while Meliorn picks up a tunic that was on another armchair and puts it on.
“Galaster? Are you ok? You seem a little pale…” Magnus mocks him with evident satisfaction.
“You… You didn’t…”
“No, I didn’t hurt Meliorn, I don't usually engage in torture and turn my back on my friends. I’m not that kind of man, and I pride myself on trying to listen to them, despite my prejudices. I was sure that the young Lightwoods were behind this, but they made me reconsider my assumption. Or at least they convinced me that there might be another explanation. As much as I don't trust Shadowhunters, I do trust those who have stood by me for centuries. I can't say the same thing about you, though. You betrayed us twenty years ago, and you are going to pay for that, now. We will deliver you to the Clave and you will be tried for the crimes you committed when you were in the Circle. I'm sure the Clave won't have as much mercy on you as I'm having. I didn’t lie, you know? I don't like to inflict pain... But you... You deserve no mercy, Galaster, and my hands are itching… Raphael? Please, take him away, before I can indulge in rash deeds."
"What? No… No, you promised to let me go if I told you the truth. Magnus… You gave me your word…"
Magnus scoffs and points at him, looking at Meliorn in clear amusement.
"He still doesn't get it, does he?” He asks the Seelie man, feigning incredulity.
Then Magnus steps forward and crouches in front of Galaster. He utters his following words coldly and in such a detached way that the kneeling Warlock seems to be about to burst out crying again.
His eyes are wet and his lower lip is trembling, but Magnus doesn’t pity him.
“This was all a farce, Galaster… Everything I said was a lie. Besides, I can't let you go. You're my ticket to get to Idris now, I need you. You shall meet with none other than the Consul herself, in her opulent office in Alicante, pleading your case. Raphael? Call Isabelle and tell her to get ready, we're taking this scum to the Institute."
"Got it… I'll call Izzie right away. Let me just get this package ready to be delivered to the Clave, ok? Just… Don't you think you overdid it with the amount of blood? It bordered me on the far-fetched side."
Magnus shrugs. “Maybe. But it worked; so…”
Raphael is unabashedly grinning now as are Meliorn and Ragnor. Who can blame them, though? This was so easy, after all, and they played a great team game. More than great. And above all, Magnus is such a good actor, isn’t he?
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Every Shadowhunter knows that in one of the guarded rooms adjacent to the Consul's office, there is a permanent portal, that can be connected to all Institutes in the world. It is mainly used by high-ranking officers of the Clave visiting one or other Institute or by the Heads living and working in the diverse cities who need to go to Alicante for whatever reason, or even to transfer prisoners who are to be incarcerated, tried, or executed at the Guards. The procedure is magically complex and is operated by a few portal workers, properly trained to interface with each portal on the other side of the magical channel. They are responsible to make sure that travelers arrive at the desired destination safely.
Clary and Sebastian are walking along the corridor to get there and two guards are following them, as ordered by the Inquisitor, but the girl knows that, provided they really go through the portal, it is very unlikely that they will land in South Africa as they should. Probably, one of the Shadowhunters in charge of their transfer is a traitor. But Clary is prepared. For starters, she is ready to react, she has her weapons and won’t hesitate to use them in case the blond Shadowhunter attacks her. Secondly, she has activated a special rune to be localized by her mother and Lucius, Luke, as she has always called him. And most importantly, the Cup she is holding in her hand is not the Cup.
It's a simulacrum. A fake. The Cup has already been brought to safety for some time. When all this mess started, Clary was sent to New York undercover, to figure out who at the New York Institute could be the traitor. Because it was obvious there was a Shadowhunter involved. It must have been. A Downworlder alone could not have activated the Sword and in any case, Jocelyn knew that Magnus Bane was a man of honor, even though the two hadn't interacted in the last 19 years and were never friends. But both knew the value of loyalty. During the Uprising, Jocelyn pretended to be part of the Circle, she double-crossed Valentine, dangerously putting her life at risk. And she lost a son for the cause; in the end, she murdered her husband and Magnus respected her for that; he understood her pain, in some respect at least. And Clary knows her mother has always returned the favor toward the Warlock. But the Inquisitor... She had no idea, and she issued an arrest warrant for the High Warlock. In fact, no one knows about Clary’s true mission. Only her mother, Luke, and the Consul of course. Not even the Inquisitor knows the truth; as far as she is concerned, she did entrust the Cup to Clary a few minutes earlier and Magnus Bane is nothing less than a criminal. Well, the Clave will apologize to Magnus Bane when it's all over. The High Warlock is on the run at the moment and Clary hopes they don't catch him. She doesn't want him tortured or worse when she knows he's innocent. Not that she could do anything about it right now. Now she has to stay focused; anything can literally go to hell in a blink of an eye.
Now, Clary's at the reckoning. The Sword hasn't been found yet, but she knows it's her job to find it, and to do so she must humor this imposter, whoever he might be. The short distance from the Inquisitor's office to the Portal room feels longer than usual. Clary feels the tension in her shoulders as she walks unhurriedly, Sebastian following.
In the end, nothing happens and they cross the portal, under the watchful eye of the few Shadowhunters in the room. She is not very surprised, though, when past the glowing light of the portal, finds herself at the edge of a forest edging the shore of a lake. Well, the place is familiar to her. She has often seen those tall conifers and the silver water of the lake; on the other hand, she grew up in Idris, so she knows immediately that they are near Lake Lyn and the fact that Sebastian, or whoever this intruder is, wanted to take the Cup with him is concerning. She knows what that means, even more, if he has the Sword as she suspects.
And she bets the Sword is nearby. Who the Hell is this man? A well-disguised Warlock? But he entered the Institute and Idris’s wards without issues, so he must have angelic blood in his veins.
This makes no sense at all. He must be a Shadowhunter, but he needs demon blood to accomplish the ritual with the Cup. Maybe he has an accomplice… She must be very, very careful.
Clary is walking ahead of Sebastian again, slowing her pace and with all her senses on alert. The young man follows her and doesn’t say a word, but she needs to face him, so she stops in her tracks and spins on her heels, abruptly to look at him straight in the face. He is… smiling.
“Clarissa. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I have waited for this moment for so long, you have no idea.”
She frowns. The impostor cannot know it, but Clary met Sebastian five years earlier and it is not possible that the boy doesn’t remember her. They were barely teenagers when they met and they traded a soft, innocent kiss on the lips. Sebastian had been living in Paris for a few months then, after having lost his parents, and he was a timid and kind boy, and Clary spent a few days with him when she accompanied her mother to visit her friend Elodie. She and the blond boy clicked very fast somehow; they were so young and after those few days together and that delicate kiss they hadn’t seen each other again. Clary had her life in Idris and Sebastian in Paris, but she is sure he would remember that kiss.
However, when she introduced herself to him, the day before at the New York Institute, he gave no sign of recognizing her. And he looked eerily different. His eyes had lost all their gentleness.
Clary immediately considered that he had just arrived from Paris... and it was a sketchy coincidence, right? Of course, she couldn't share her suspicions with anyone. Not even with the young Lightwoods, who immediately welcomed her with open arms. Well, at least Isabelle and Jace.
She had yet to figure out what kind of person Alec was. But it was pretty clear that he didn't trust her, which made him either a possible suspect or a precious ally in her eyes. Clary leaned more toward the latter. Again just because of her instinct... And yet, she was rarely wrong.
"Where are we? And above all... Who the Hell are you?"
She finally asks, showing no agitation or fear. Her mother knows where she is, or at least Clary hopes so. Someone will come soon for her. And the Cup is far away, somewhere safe.
"Oh, you're right sorry. I should introduce myself. And maybe show you what I really look like. I bet you'll notice the resemblance."
Saying so, the young boy changes his shape, his appearance. It’s a complete, full morphing of his body and face and even though Clary has already seen shapeshifters change their shape before, she knows no Shadowhunter possesses that ability. They may use a glamor but the effect is not the same. It drops altogether, it’s just an illusion. Therefore, the transformation that is slowly happening before her eyes is fascinating and horrific at the same time. The body structure of the boy, his skin, his eyes... everything transforms deep to its inner essence. Sebastian is gone in a few moments and instead of him, another boy is standing before her, more or less of the same height, slender, with red hair and green eyes, exactly like she and her mother.
"Hello… Sister." He confirms with a smirk.
"No... It's not possible. You are dead. Our father killed you; you died swallowed by the flames."
"No…” He retorts angrily, “our father saved me. He took me away from the fire and entrusted me to my mother. Or at least to the mother who actually raised me, nurturing me with her blood."
"Who are you talking about?"
Johnathan shrugs as if anything he was referring to was absolutely obvious.
"Well, Lilith… of course. I grew up in Edom, Clary and I assure you… It was not an idyllic experience. But the time will come when I will get my revenge against her, too. I will get even, Clary, in due course and for everything that happened to me. I will rule over Edom. I will dethrone her, and I’ll do it for you. I... I want to make you my Queen, what do you say? When I heard that our mother had another baby, that I had a little sister... Well, I decided to survive in Edom to come back to you. Despite the torture and all the pain Lilith inflicted on me every single day I spent with her, the thought that I still had someone to live for... To fight for, well, it made me hold on. Now give me the Cup, Clary... You need to drink my blood before I can put an end to every Shadowhunter’s existence, reduce them to be human again as they should be."
"Your blood?"
Clary mutters in dismay. She is shocked by what this boy revealed. Is he really her brother? And was he raised by Lilith? The Queen of Edom?
"Yes... Lilith’s blood in my vein will make you a creature of Edom, like me if you drink it from the Mortal Cup. When our sword, the Morning Star Sword, finally burns your runes away and gets rid of any drop of angelic blood in our veins, we will rule over Edom, together."
Johnathan looks so calm and confident, and Clary is overwhelmed by a new feeling. She is sorry for him. Alone and abandoned, raised by a Demon, unaware of what love can be. What having a family even means. But she can’t let him win. She can’t.
“I am not going to Edom. Here is where I belong, ok? And you too. I am not going to drink your… blood.”
The mere idea makes her stomach churn in disgust.
“Oh, but you will. This is the most precious gift I can offer you, or do you prefer to become a Mundane and succumb to the horde of Demons that are about to pour into this World?”
Good Lord.
“How…”
The boy rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed by her continuous puzzlement.
“The Sword, my dear… The Morning Star Sword that has belonged to our family for generations and that only you and I can activate with a simple touch, because of our name, can open a rift between here and Edom, but first I need to get rid of Raziel’s blood in our system.”
Of course, he is the only one who can use the Sword even if he is not a Nephilim anymore. That’s… terrifying. Clary can’t allow him to put his hand on that infernal blade.
“Where… Where is the Sword?”
“Not far from here. So... Are you with me, Clary? I know you are not to blame for what happened to me. You weren’t even born. Our mother abandoned me to die in that fire and our father left me in the hands of the Mother of Demons. But you? You are not to blame and you are my lil’ sister. I want to share my glory and power with you. We'll get to know each other, and I promise you, you'll be happy with me. Nobody will get in our way; you will get everything you want. I'm your brother, Clary, I just want to protect you and you'll learn to love me back. I'm sure of it."
He spoke his last words more sweetly, as if he really believed them and it’s heartbreaking in its craziness.
“Johnathan… I can't believe you survived… But our mother… She didn't abandon you, she tried to save you. It was Valentine's fault. That night… It was he who started the fire… She… She loved you and she has never forgiven herself for failing to protect you. I'm so sorry for what happened to you, but… I can't give you the Cup. You will have to kill me, Johnathan. Is this what you want?"
The boy's young but unsettlingly sharp face hardens a bit more at her rejection, and his eyes turn pitch dark. They are evil, bloodcurdling, revealing his demonic nature. Clary notices that he has no runes on his skin, at least on the visible parts of his pale body, and wonders if he can even bear them without losing his mind. Even more than he has already had.
She instinctively recoils when those devilish orbs meet her eyes. Her brother stares at her with those abyss-black eyes and Clary suddenly feels weak, and dizzy, her wobbly legs are suddenly unable to keep her on her feet.
"What the Hell… What are you doing to me?"
"Sleep, little sister, and when you wake up, it will be in a new world. A wonderful world that we will build together..."
Clary feels her lids heavy as she collapses, somehow gracefully, to the ground while her senses leave her, rendering her vulnerable and completely at her brother’s mercy.
She won't surrender… she must stop Johnathan and retrieve the Sword… It’s her mission, she must resist the sleepiness… But it's a losing battle.
Clary closes her eyes, as darkness envelops her. She hopes that her mother is on her way before it’s too late. Before Johnathan can open a rift to Edom, before he finds out she hasn’t the real Cup, cradled to her breast and his hopeless wrath destroys the World.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Alec enters the Consul's office, head held high and a stern scowl on his face, pushing Galaster Qibynn in front of him, in an attempt to make him walk faster. They were just in time, the portal to Idris was about to be shut down.
The plan Magnus Bane proposed to them was… well, literally crazy. But the Warlock was persuasive enough and convinced him that this was their only way to get to Idris in time. The unsanctioned transfer of the rogue Warlock would cover Magnus’ traces entering Alicante’s wards. Or at least, this is what they hope. Alec of course, but also Isabelle, Jace, Maia, Lily, Raphael, Meliorn, Catarina, and Ragnor.
They stayed in New York, waiting at the Institute to Maryse's sheer bewilderment; she was however silenced by a truly menacing Raphael.
Such a large gathering of Downwolders all together under the roof of the Institute was surely unprecedented. They are ready to jump into the portal, should it open again. But for now, Alec is alone. The Consul is standing in front of her desk and is glaring furiously at him.
"Alexander Lightwood, you know we were about to close all the portals for a reason, don't you? You were not allowed to bring that Warlock here. The orders were clear. So, I wonder… what on Earth was so difficult for you to understand in the sentence "No Downwolders are allowed in Idris"? My life is at stake here."
Alec can’t really help but roll his eyes. He is already so…done. Everything happened incredibly fast and he has still to understand how he ended up in Idris with this handcuffed Warlock. At the same time Catarina was updating Maia about what happened with Galaster, Isabelle called him, summoning him back to the Institute. Apparently, Magnus had gotten his hands on the one who stole the Sword and was willing to hand it over to them. But the Warlock demanded that the prisoner needed to be taken to the Guards in Idris, using the portal at the Institute. Galaster Qibynn would talk to the Consul and the Consul alone, revealing Johnathan Morgenstern’s plan. Isabelle explained that the Warlock wanted to get immunity for himself in exchange for information about the Sword’s whereabouts. That was what Raphael told her.
Alec then rushed to the Institute with the two werewolf girls only a few moments before the small delegation of Downworlders arrived, dragging Galaster in chains with them.
Obviously, Maryse Lightwood freaked out, but eventually, faced with proof of Magnus' innocence and the real risk that the Sword could have been already in Idris, she let Alec go, pursuing this crazy idea Magnus came up with. Just before jumping into the portal to Alicante, though, Magnus grabbed his wrist and looked straight into his eyes. It wasn’t a friendly look. And his words still resonate in his ears.
"Apparently we need to work together for the greater good, Shadowhunter, but don't think I can ever forget that you deceived me and tried to incriminate me for things I didn't do and would never even think of doing. You got into my pants for your vile purposes and I hope you did have fun because that won't happen again. I despise you, are we clear? When we get out of this mess, just stay as far away as possible from me... The risk that I may try to incinerate you remains absolutely plausible. Do you understand?"
Alec was overwhelmed by guilt and regret and he was sorry for… for everything. But Magnus’ hurt feelings and his anger needed to wait. So, he rebutted, trying to convey his displeasure, but cutting it short nonetheless.
"Magnus… Look, I don't have time for this right now. But don't worry, I promise I won’t bother you with my presence. I know I hurt you and even if it wasn’t my intention, I am well aware of what I have done and I’ll take full responsibility for that. Now let's go and get the Morning Star Sword before Valentine's son succeeds in ending the World, shall we?"
Magnus’ eyes shone with something similar to admiration, and a weird form of respect.
"Lead the way, Shadowhunter."
The Warlock said in the end.
And now here he is, following Magnus’ plan, trusting him, and putting himself at risk, fully and without any safety net. Good Lord… He is going to die, isn’t he?
"Consul, I am well aware, but I wouldn’t have brought him here if it wasn’t crucial. Much more than your life is at stake here. There's no need to lie. You should know that someone with Demon blood has already managed to sneak into Idris, so there is really no point in keeping those people who can help you away from here. They can help you… We can help…"
"So, this is the Warlock involved in the theft of the Sword? I remember him, he is a traitor, he used to work with Valentine. But he is of no help now and he can’t remain here. You need to take him back to New York. You can put him on trial there if you want. I don’t care. You can also execute him right after, for what matters."
Galaster fidgets on the spot, clearly at unease with the Consul’s words.
"You’re not listening to me, Consul.” Alec goes on. “We know who else is behind the theft of the Sword. We know who wants to derune us."
She furrows her brows in sign of annoyance.
"How do you even know about this? It’s classified."
"Seriously? My mother told me. I can’t believe you hid this from all of us. We could have lost... everything... Our runes, our blood, our power… our angelic mission…"
"Lightwood, I can assure you; it wouldn't have been of any benefit if Shadowhunters panicked and started picking on the Downworlders. Fear is no good counselor and emotions cloud judgement."
God, why she keeps giving out platitudes?
"Well, but it wasn't a Downwolder who wants to destroy us, but a Nephilim, right? So, you need to secure the Cup, now."
And it’s then that the Consul does something unexpected. She snickers smugly at him.
"The Cup is perfectly safe and Clarissa Fairchild is pursuing the finding of the Sword. We think the Verlac boy may be the culprit. His Aunt is already under arrest and the Paris Institute is compromised. I know you and your siblings don't think highly of the Clave, but we're not a bunch of idiots."
An ungracious and disrespectful snort resonates in the office.
"Well… I beg to differ, Consul."
It was Galaster who spoke so irreverently and quite rudely to the woman, making her eyes widen in surprise.
The man easily jerks off Alec's steel grip around his bicep and the cuffs around his wrists vanish into a blue cloud of magic. The glamour falls in the blink of an eye and the Warlock standing there next to Alec is no longer Galaster, but Magnus Bane in person.
Alec can't help but look in admiration and awe at him. His posture, his proud gaze, his loud and intimidating power. Something flutters in his stomach, something that is more than wonder, more than respect. It's something he can't come to terms with at this moment. Now they apparently have to go and save Clarissa Fairchild, left alone against her demonic brother. If only they knew where he brought her. Magnus seems to read his mind.
"Where is Clarissa?" the Warlock requires, in a resolute tone that demands nothing but an answer. "Her life is in danger and I can't believe you let her go alone."
The Consul seems more irritated than concerned.
"By the Angel, what do you think you’re doing, Mr. Bane? Ms. Fairchild is perfectly capable of neutralizing one Shadowhunter. She is with Sebastian Verlac, and we don't know yet if he is the traitor. We are waiting for her to report back. They headed to the Johannesburg Institute where they are ready to receive them. We need to understand his motives and to find out whether there are other Shadowhunters involved. It's a very delicate mission, as you surely understand. In any case, the Cup is safe. You don’t need to worry about that. We gave her a fake one."
Magnus closes his fists and glowing blue sparks start spreading from his hands. He looks furious.
The Cup may be held somewhere secure, but the Clave always puts its people’s life in danger, recklessly and without sparing a second thought. Clary is alone with an infernal monster and Magnus cannot stomach their indifference to her fate. What would happen when Johnathan discovers she doesn’t have the Cup? Who knows how he would react?
"Idiots! Sebastian Verlac has probably been dead for months. The Shadowhunter with her is Valentine’s son, her brother. And he came straight from Edom to destroy us all."
The Consul looks at him dumbfounded. Now she is decisively listening to them.
"What?"
"Valentine's son. He didn’t die in the fire at the Morgenstern’s mansion as we thought, and, don’t ask me how, but he has Demon's blood in his vein. You see, Consul, he is a Nephilim, and even with his contaminated blood… he can both activate the Sword and use the Cup to derune us all."
At that moment, a red-haired woman and an African American man burst into the Consul's office.
"Jia! Clary has never arrived in Johannesburg… She's still here, in Idris… she's at Lake Lyn… We need to go."
Alec hears Magnus whisper a curse that no one would dare to utter in the Consul's presence, but… whatever. He is not wrong. The two men look and nod at each other, with the same resolute expression on their tense faces.
"Let's go. Maybe it's not too late. Jonathan doesn’t have the Cup, after all." Magnus says, whirling his hand to open a portal. Maybe he can’t obliterate the Nephilim kind, but he can still hurt Clary and open a rift to Edom. No Demon Tower in Alicante could protect the city then.
Alec braces himself to jump into the light with the Warlock, thinking once again that it’s true… He is going to die, isn’t he? Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s for a good cause. They will stop Johnathan Morgenstern at any cost. He and Magnus together.
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Oc Social Media; Delancy “Darcy” Mikaelson [ Messages From Her - To Be Determined ]
❝ Bi and ready to die....❞
TAGGING; @witchofinterest @fiercefray @sweetenemyfire @eddysocs @jasmineisabella
#darcy mikaelson#delancy mikaelson#messages from her#the originals oc#the vampire diaries oc#legacies oc#my oc babies#my oc story#ocappreciation#oc community#social media#social media edits#edits#fic#fic edits#gifs#kat dennings#teen wolf oc#crossover
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Loved your baj keisuke primal prey fic! Especially the plot in the chase was soo good eventhough it was the built up!
I was wondering if you'd be cool with writing something along the lines of a crossover of a yokai or a vampire. I would love a little demonic energy. Along the lines of denying feelings, to being in heat/need for blood (?) To a little chasing and well wooing in the yandere way >>:)
Happy holidays ! :DD
my bloody valentine
ig chase scenes and clubs are just gonna become my staple, i aint complaining >:) (meant to post this on valentine's so heres a 12 day late holiday fic lmao)
tw yandere vampire! baji, vampire hunter! reader, manipulative! baji, aged up! baji, dom! baji, DUBCON, violence/blood, sex work?, blood play, biting, praise, breath play, drugging, cunnilingus, overstimulation, size kink, reader almost dies from blood loss, hinted mindbreak

You blew hot air into your freezing hands. The warmth would only linger for a second but it was idle movement that kept you busy. This winter was incredibly cruel this year. Shivering, you look around into the den you will be infiltrating. You can’t say you weren’t thrilled to be given this mission by the Higher Ones.
Humans and vampires have been at war since life and death were created. It was a constant push and pull. Humans would win for a century, vampires would retaliate, then vampires would reign for the same length. You were sadly born in the time where vampires ruled. Most humans kept to themselves, some would even offer themselves to be feeds for promises of luxury. Others would hand over their lives in a different way, swear an oath to the Higher Ones to wipe out vampires for once and for all.
None of the hunters—or rather cleansers—knew exactly who the Higher Ones were. All cleansers knew was that they would receive a message whether in the mail or on their phones with a simple location and target. The target was usually the sire, cut the head of the snake and others will follow. It wasn’t rare for cleansers to work alone. Usually you would be given a partner but for this mission, you were left to your own devices. It’s not like you worked well with others, anyway. Maybe the Higher Ones finally got the message, or they were trying to kill you off. Either way, you were going to finish this mission and reap the benefits.
Flipping your phone open, you spied the message. Your mission was to pretend to be a feed to cleanse a higher ranking vampire by the name of Baji Keisuke. The number of those sired to him wasn’t the highest count—only somewhere around a dozen—a concerningly low number considering he usually had a feed.
Slipping your phone into your jacket pocket you finally make your way into the den disguised as a club. For some reason there was no bouncer at the door. Immediately you were hit with the thumping of a constant bass. Up high was a platform where a DJ set the mood for the atmosphere. The only illumination were red, flashing lights that cut through the artificial fog. There was a gaggle of grinding bodies throughout the room. By the bar were even more people. A balcony was right over the bar which you assumed was where the feeding rooms were. Glancing up, you swore you felt eyes boring right into you, but as you squinted your eyes to see farther, all the vampires hanging off the side were enjoying the show.
On high alert, deep in vampire territory, you were surprised that no one had smelt your very human scent.
“You must be lost!” A sweet, bubbly voice called to you.
Not knowing how you didn’t sense her, a petite woman stood before you. To say she was beautiful was an understatement. This woman had dazzling hazel eyes paired with soft-looking, blonde hair. Her skin was just as perfect, no blemish in sight that made you want to cover your own face. The best way to describe her was as angelic.
“Oh!” She piped up, realization on her face, “you must be a new feed.”
Straightening up, you replied, “how could you tell?”
“I can smell you, silly.”
She tapped her nose. Looking closer, from her grin you could see the baby fangs poking out.
“Yes, I don’t really know what to do, though.”
“I’ll take you to Draken!”
You were correct to describe her as bubbly. Minutes into knowing you, she wrapped her arm with yours and led you to whoever Draken was. Pushing her way through the crowds, she pulled you towards a set of doors near the bar. Now under the balcony, the feeling of being gawked at went away. You needed to be more careful.
Past the doors was a hallway not as smokey and loud as the club. A few couples leaned against the wall in their own worlds. Further down the hall stood a gargantuan man with a long, blond braid. On the side of his head was an intricate, blackwork tattoo: you can’t imagine how much it must have hurt.
“Draken,” the girl called with you in toe.
He looked up from his phone to see you both. His eyebrow twitched. He seemed displeased with said girl.
“Emma, why did you bring a human back here?”
Ah, so that’s why he was so pissed.
She ignored his question, “she’s a new feed.”
His eyes widen at that, almost relieved, “thank fuck,” he turned to you, “have you ever been a feed before?”
Pretending to seem insecure and meek, you shook your head no. Sensing your nervousness, Draken took you from Emma. She had made a noise of protest, but he had given her a look.
The hand on your shoulder was warm. He must have fed recently. It was true vampires were cold to the touch, but once they satiate their carnal needs, the blood they drank would warm their system for about an hour before becoming cold again like freshly baked cake left to cool for too long. That is why so many vampires indulged, to feel the warmth of being human again.
Further down the hallway you two went. Draken cleared his throat, “I’m sure you know that being a feed means that you will have a vampire drink from you.”
When you nod your head, he continued.
“Feeding doesn’t hurt if you are worried about that at all. Anyway, how we do feeding here is that we make sure that all feeds' needs are met. You will always be allowed breaks, and plenty of foods and drinks to bring back up your blood sugar. You also have the option of anything sexual happening and whether or not penetration will happen as well.”
Your face heated up at the implication, “no sex or anything like that, please.”
“Good to know.”
Draken led you up a flight of stairs to what you saw was the balcony you were previously looking at. Similar to the hallway, the walls were a burgundy with gold detailings. How stereotypical.
“I will inform who will be feeding from you what you decided. Wait here.”
With that, he went into a room beside you. You looked left and then right. While taking you upstairs, you memorized the route in case something goes wrong. You needed a fast escape in case. This mission was completely solo so you had to watch your own back.
Draken pushing the door back open startled you out of your thoughts. The door was left wide open as he gestured for you to come in. Taking the invitation, the room was just as red as the rest of the club. In the room were two wine hued, velvet couches adjacent to each other. Right between them was a mahogany table, under what was a mini fridge. You guessed that’s were all food and drinks you were promised for your blood sugar was.
The most eye-catching part was the three men in the room sat on said couches. On the sofa to the right were two men, one had bleach blond hair. You could tell from here that he was on the shorter side but you didn’t let that fool you. He had an alluring, cat-like look to him.
On the other hand, the man beside him had honey gold, rounded eyes. His hair dangled past his shoulders with yellow money pieces framing his sculpted face. Along with that, thick inking was displayed on the side of his neck depicting a tiger. It oddly suited him.
But what grabbed your attention the most was the vampire sitting on his lonesome, arms sprawled over the back of the couch. Legs spread as well, his whole posture demanded attention. He tilted his head to the side with a cocky smile. His hair was in a similar style to the tattooed man across from him. Though, the vampire’s hair was that of spilled ink. It tumbled around him, his fair complexion all the more pale in contrast. Similar to Emma, his fangs were on display as he smiled up at you as a cat to an unsuspecting mouse.
“Must be the new plaything,” the black haired vampire teased.
The bottle blond scoffed, “don’t scare her, Baji.”
You schooled your expression. That was a lot easier than you thought to find your target. So sure you would have to ask around without being conspicuous to find him, this seemed almost too easy.
Baji reached a hand out from where he sat. Taming your disgust, you leave the security of the doorway and enter the belly of the beast. Placing your hand into his freezing, larger palm, Draken took his leave and closed you in with the enemy. Forgoing any formalities, Baji pulled you right into his lap. You struggled in shock but he was quick to snuff the resistance by gripping your hips.
The other vampires in the room laughed. You silently seethed being used as a toy for their sick entertainment. Knowing in this position you couldn’t even imagine taking down the vampire, you melted into his chest.
“Atta girl,” he sighed into your ear.
Coming down from their giggles, the other men introduce themselves.
“I’m Chifuyu. I will not apologize for Baji because he will just be annoying,” the bottle blond—Chifuyu—clarified with no malice in his voice. Baji playfully snarled at him.
“Kazutora. Lets hope you last longer than the other ones,” the tattooed vampire spoke cryptically. How reassuring.
Chifuyu elbowed him.
Ignoring the bickering, Baji placed his attention on you, “Don’t listen to him. I don’t intend to break you… yet.”
“I don’t like what that implies.”
The room became silent at your sass. Kazutora smirked, “so the little lamb has fangs as well.”
You clamped your mouth shut at that. Baji adjusted you in his lap, but he didn’t give away any displeasure.
At that, the room becomes lively once again. Your presence was completely ignored. You didn’t know if you should be insulted or not. The strangest part was the whole time, Baji didn’t feed from you at all. Besides in the beginning of the session, he had not even grazed your neck. This confused you as you were sure it has been weeks since he has fed. His self control was terrifying if he could starve himself and have basically raw meat served to him on a silver platter and not give into temptation.
You tried your best to keep your cool and slow your pulse to not show how confused you were. By the end of the night, Baji had sent you away by dragging his nose up the length of your neck.
Kissing the skin beneath your ear, “‘til tomorrow, pet.”
In a daze, you leave his lap and walk out of the den with not a scratch on you. As you made your way back to your hideout, you completely forgot about your goal of immediately annihilating him.

You were awoken with two text messages. One from a Higher One and another from Draken. While walking down the hall, you had totally forgotten you had given your number so he could contact you when Baji wanted you. You were officially Baji’s feed.
ONE WEEK
sent 10:00 AM
Come to the club at 10 pm
sent 5:53 AM
Throwing your phone in anger at the first message, you racked a hand down your face. How the fuck where you supposed to kill him in a week? These old fucks were definitely trying to kill you off.
Sending a thumbs up to Draken, you lay in bed contemplating your next move to take out this den.

When you went back to the club, you were met with Draken at the door this time. He guided you through the crowds. You caught a glimpse of Emma, exchanging a shy wave to her overexcited one.
Going down the same path to the room, you once again mark in your head how to swiftly get out of the building. There were no windows to not let sunlight touch the inside. Vampires didn’t burn up in the sun, but it could make them ill if exposed for too long, like a worm stuck on the concrete on a summer day.
Deja vu crept in when you walked in just as you did yesterday to see the same vampires in the same position. You could tell yourself that they never left like dolls in a dollhouse waiting for whatever child to play with them again.
Baji welcomed you back into his icy embrace. Less skittish as the day before, you thaw into his cold body. They went back to their conversation. You played the part of a lap dog for these beasts.
This went on for seven more days.

Anxiety bubbled up inside you. This was the last day given to you to complete this assignment. Typically, you were fast at finishing a job, but for some reason you had dragged this one out. Maybe it was the first time you had to actually get close to a target instead of your usual shoot and leave. You had grown comfortable with the company of those three vampires. Dare you say, safe, as no one had harmed a hair on your head. It had been years since you had been cared for. It was hard to befriend fellow cleansers as you never knew who would make it back, whether it was a vampire or by the Higher Ones’ hands.
There was a reason not many chose to be cleansers, most didn’t even have a choice. You bared through the cards dealt to you. You can’t afford to not complete this job. Tonight was the night.
Adjusting the silver blade strapped against your thigh, you saw Draken waiting for your arrival.
“Before you come in, I must warn you tonight is Valentine’s day so there is going to be a lot of traffic. You will go to your usual room, but don’t be surprised by the influx of your kind.”
You understood the implications. Some people were here to get their kicks. “Whatever, let's just get out of this cold.”
“After you.”
Nodding your head, you are hit with the warmth of tightly packed bodies, a mix of vampires and humans. Lust really does bring camaraderie, you mused. You abandoned the sentiment, prepared to finish this once and for all. If you were smart, you could use the crowd to blend in when you make your departure. It was difficult to see over the sea of people.
Forcing your way through, you take the road to what could be your doom and be in the company of those strange vampires. Usually Draken would lead you to the room, this time he was too busy dealing with the crowd. There were plenty of inexperienced humans he had to make sure wouldn’t be drained like sun dried fruit.
Knocking on the familiar door, you awaited entrance. If you were in a better mood, you would have laughed at how the roles were reversed. You, a human, had to wait to be invited in.
“Come in,” Chifuyu’s voice called.
You twisted the door open to be presented with your typical company.
Baji beckoned you to take your place sat upon his thighs. Cocooning his body around your smaller form, you noticed that he seemed colder. His skin had light frost to it, but now he was glacerial.
On the side table were four wine glasses of varying heights of liquid in them. Baji grabbed the only cup almost filled to the brim.
“Here, drink,” he didn’t let you answer before tipping the glass to your lips.
Unable to refuse, you gulped down the rich drink, parched. As if you haven’t drank in a millenia, you let Baji pour the liquid until the glass was empty. Chifuyu and Kazutora watched on, sipping their own drinks.
“Good girl.”
Finished your glass, he placed it down and went about his business. Following routine, he ignored your pulsing jugular and kept banter with his fellow vampires. At this point, he must be famished. He hadn’t fed in what you guessed three weeks. Lesser vampires would have withered in a couple days without blood. Vampires could get nutrients from human food, but blood is where they thrived.
Mixed with the suspense of having to kill Baji without getting slaughtered and the suspicion that Baji refused to feed from you, you were more fidgety than normal. Picking at your fingernails, your eyes bounced to the door and then subtly to Baji. If you were quick you could puncture his carotid artery and sprint out, praying to whatever god that Chifuyu and Kazutora would be too stunned to instantly pounce on you.
A whisper breathed against your ear, “getting antsy, little hunter?”
Fuck.
You instantly struggle in his hold but he wrapped his arms around you tight, tight, tight.
He snickered at your misfortune, “don’t think you could trick me, little hunter, I saw you eyeing out the club weeks before finally presenting yourself on a platter. Thorough aren't you?"
Spiteful, you clenched the dagger hidden in the garter belt and stabbed right through the meat of his thigh. He growls at the pain, face contorting more demon-like. Vampires were good at hiding their true forms unless presented with silver.
You sprung yourself from his lap as he cradled the wound. Him refusing to feed came to bite him as the wound would take longer to heal. Cursing yourself for only having a dagger, you raised your fists in self-defense. You were so worried about the attention a gunshot would bring, you forgot how useless a dagger would be.
Inching towards the door away from the three vampires, you braced yourself. "I will kill you all.”
Kazutora giggled, "how boring." He looked at you as if you were a kitten hissing.
Your face twitches at the taunt.
Still cradling his thigh, Baji’s voice cut through the room, "how about let's make this a game. I will give you five minutes to make it out of the club. Do so and I will let you leave. If I find you, though, little hunter, you're mine. My eternal."
Your eyes widen at the proposition. You will not become a vampire's pet.
Weighing your options, you seethed, "fuck you."
He simply pouted before grinning, "tick tock, you now only have 4 and an half minutes left.”
Even if you didn't want to play he was going to force you. You looked at the three vampires before you. Baji elated, Kazutora bored and Chifuyu looked almost concerned, but you knew it was falsely placed.
You ran out the room with the haunting cackles calling after you. How naive of you to think these creatures were any different. They will always satiate their hunger before anything else. Gluttons, the lot of them.
Sprinting down the intimate, winding corridors, you were confident in your escape. You memorized the path over the week, knowing it would come to this. But before you were even in the vicinity of the stairwell, you felt woozy.
The red walls blending together, the hues likened to meat more than plaster and wallpaper. Shaking your head, you steeled your teeth. The fucker put something in your drink.
You weren't going to be shackled to him no matter what. Leaning against the walls, you try to hurry away from the private rooms and down to where the population was. Hopefully you could slip away as easily as you planned before. It be damned if you were punished by the higher ones for failing this mission, you weren't going to lose your autonomy to a vampire of all things. You rather lose the eye you sure were going to. The repentment was always a high price.
Willing yourself to push forward, you kept your weight against the wall. If you played your cards right—and stayed awake—you could possibly make it out of this alive. He did say he would give you five minutes. Despite this, with the drug pumping through your veins, time slowed. Every muscle in your body was sluggish. Clutching onto the blooded dagger, you tread on. The one thing you had was your stubbornness and you let that fuel your heavy bones.
There had to be a reason you lasted this long, especially with spending most of it alone. You were built to endure. And endure you must if you truly don’t want to become a vampire's eternal.
Brain swimming, you made it to the stairs. Almost there, you reassured yourself. Once you make it to the crowd, your scent and form would disappear into the pool of bodies. Surely, Baji would lose you like a bloodhound presented with too many stimuli. Hope was all you could cling on for now.
Trying your best to forgo the fuzziness, you race down the stairwell back into the forsaken hallway that started this all. You were almost there, all you needed to do was exit the winding corridor. You would crawl back from the mouth of hell.
A chuckle bellowed in the deserted space. Speak of the devil.
At the top of the stairwell was the very last creature you wanted to see. Stood before was the very vampire that damned you. Smugness reeked from his posture. His hair was tied back. Doom settled in your belly.
“Hard to focus, huh?” He mocked.
You sneered. Even if he caught sight of you, this morbid game of hide and seek was not done until you decided so.
Adrenaline pumping ever faster, you ripped open a door not too far from you. Slamming it closed and locking it, you ignored the screaming of a woman. On a couch very similar to the one upstairs was a woman with a vampire drinking from her wrist.
“Get the fuck out!” The vampire sneered, her body shielded the woman. How sweet.
“Don’t let him in,” was all you replied.
This room also had no window, though there was a door to the right. You swung open to see it was another room just like this one. Must be a safety precaution. Doesn’t matter, all that does is that you can use this to your advantage. You will just room hop until you reach as close as you can to the exit.
Baji slammed against the door of the room you had just left. Not tempting fate and not wanting him to know you knew all the rooms were connected, you jumped over the couch to the next door.
You opened and once again you were met with nothing. Sighing in relief, surely if another person kicked up a fuss Baji would instantly pinpoint your location. Dagger in hand, you barged into room after room. The repetition of decor flashed in front of you like a fever dream.
After what could have been the tenth door you were met with a deadend. This must be the last room in the hall. Inhaling as much as you could, you open the door to the hallway. You were met with nothing and the red lights poured into the hall. Just as you were about to leave the room, a hand grabbed your lower face and pulled you backwards. A scream caught in your throat as the door was pushed shut. Slammed into a tall, freezing body, you struggled.
How the fuck were you caught? You were careful, this wasn’t fair.
The body wrapped their arm around your waist and hauled you further into the room until you both collapsed onto the couch. Sat upon the lap of the very vampire you wanted far from you, you dug your nails into the skin of his arm. He simply squeezed you tighter.
“Guess you lost, little hunter.” His tone was condescending and amused.
No, no, you weren’t done. This wasn’t over until you decided it was. The forgotten dagger was quick to dig into the meat of the arm binding you to him. He growled in pain. The hand clutching your lower face, moved its grip to slam your head against the arm of the couch. Your brain wobbled in your skull. Blood gushed from your nose. Everything was in a daze.
Baji ripped the dagger that poked from the other side of his forearm. You were sure you nicked yourself, but it was worth it. He threw your only weapon far from the both of you.
He leaned over you and gripped you by your throat. “You brat.”
You laughed in his face. You had definitely sealed your fate as rage built in those molten eyes, but the satisfaction was worth the penalization.
“You content with yourself?” He mocked, and as you laughed harder, something in him shifted.
In those golden irises, mischief crept in. Baji never liked prey that rolled over and let him devour. The best part of a meal is the anticipation.
Still clutching your fragile throat, he leaned down and licked the blood that pooled from your nose down to your lips. A moan left him as his nails grew sharper and the teeth in his mouth stretched. Feeding was always a vulnerable time for vampires as their true forms manifested. Still beautiful, but oh so haunting. Black veins spidered from his under eyes as his mouth became a darker hue.
“You are absolutely divine.” The words were meant to flatter, but you recoiled. Baji saw the fear start to build. “Now don’t be like that. I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to.”
“Get off me!”
He pressed his body further into yours, his cold meshing with your warmth. The chase had left you heated and your body almost craved the ice he gave.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun, little hunter. Your kind are always the adrenaline junkies. Can’t say I can judge, though.”
You sniped at him, “yes, running for my life was very thrilling.”
“That's the spirit!” He laughed. This damned vampire was insane.
You squirmed, wanting him off you. Your arms still freed, you slapped and hit what you could, but it was useless. Baji easily gathered your wrists into one hand and pinned them to the arm of the couch. His weight pressed further into you. His legs, he pried yours apart so he could slot your crotch to his. There was no way you could escape his hold now.
Exhausted, you don’t know if you even want to. The drugs still haven’t left your system.
Baji nosed the side of your neck as he did the past week. “See, it doesn’t have to be hard. Just give in to me and you will never have to worry again.”
The words were tempting, but how can you believe the words of a forked tongue beast?
Still seeing you hesitating, Baji pushed more, “it can’t be a great life as a hunter. You spend your days in solitude, in fear of your Higher Ones. With me, you will no longer be afraid.”
You furrowed your brows, his words were too accurate. “How do you know that?”
“I have watched you for so long, my dear hunter. You can say I’m a picky eater.”
Of course, he had been stalking you, why would you think anything else? “Get off. Get off!”
Baji’s thumb stroked right where your carotid artery is, entranced of the blood flowing under the flesh. He stopped listening to your defiant quips. The vampire forgot how long it had been since he fed and he has his meal right under his thumb. He wanted you to be more willing about this, but if he must be mean, he will.
Moving his thumb so it dug into your jawbone, he tilted your head to the right. Baji licked your neck before diving in. A screech bubbled in your lungs when he bit down. His teeth were needles and the more he sank in, the more agony spread throughout your body. Your feet kicked in instinct. God, it fucking hurt but as he gulped down your rosy life essence, your body became pliant.
His saliva finally hit your system, endorphins clouded your mind. These happy chemicals dimmed the pain and how he was draining you of all your worth. Your screams ebbed into tiny whimpers.
Seeing you had calmed down, Baji pulled away from your neck and licked the blood that fell from the open wound. Falling into blood lust, Baji grew hard from your noises and the taste of you. A warmth grew in his tummy. He needed you and he needed you, now.
He dragged himself from your body until his knees hit the ground. You were too blissed out from the blood lost to refuse him. Taking advantage of that, Baji pulled your pants and panties off you. Despite his hunger, he was gentle with how he undressed you. The vampire wanted to savor you.
He took your shoes off as well so you were completely bare for him. Groaning, he spied how slick collected on your slit from the endorphins and fear. Taking your right leg and placing it on his shoulder, he kissed your calf. He slathered you with open mouth kisses until he reached your inner thigh.
You whined at how he teased you. The build up was making you clench around nothing. Your clit throbbed, begging to be stimulated in any way.
Baji laughed at your impatience. He kept up kissing your inner thigh, switching to the other side to give it the same amount of attention. Dragging his teeth gently over the skin, you whimpered when his breath hit your cunt. You bucked. He took his other hand and splayed it on your tummy to hold you down.
“Patience.”
You kicked him and he scowled at you. The endorphins were wearing off faster than he wanted. Baji went back to your right thigh, so close yet so far from your cunny, he placed another kiss. Before he bit down once again. Your eyes shot up from the half-mast and you gasped in pain. Baji was quick to remedy the pain and licked you. A moan left you when he drank from you again.
It was borderline addicting how your life was drained from you. The familiar sluggishness crept back up. No wonder people were feeds. To stay in this cloudy sensation was heavenly.
Baji parted from your thigh and finally licked your pussy. Blood was smeared over you as he sucked your clit into his mouth. You yelped at the attention. He laughed into you. The vibration of his mouth sent more pleasure down your spine. He pulled off your clit to drag his tongue from the bud down to your hole. The appendage dipped in, testing the waters. Bucking up again, or at least attempting to, Baji took that as to keep going.
And keep going did he. Nose deep, he kept tonguefucking you. It was an odd sensation but not unwelcome. His tongue was more dexterous than fingers. He twisted against your walls. Pulling his tongue out, you whined but he was quick to shut you up by taking your clit back in his mouth. The constant attention was becoming too much.
Finding purchase, your hands gripped the one holding your hips down. He welcomed the contact as he kept pushing you closer and closer to the edge. It was unfair how good he was at this.
“Please, please!” You begged. At this point for more or for him to stop, you didn’t know. It was just too much.
His tongue flicked against the swollen bud as his hand dipped down to split you open with two fingers. The intrusion was almost enough, you just need more. Moans poured out. The stuttering of your chest and the shake of your thighs was enough of a tell to Baji. Ending your misery, he sucked your clit in his mouth as he curled his fingers just right.
Ringing in your ears was all you could hear as you fell apart for the creature you swore you would end tonight. Tears bubbled up at how overwhelmed you were. Baji gave a few more licks and pumps to slowly bring you down from your orgasm. Like he cut all the strings from you, you flop further into the couch.
Oversensitive, you whined when he took his fingers from you and pulled away from your thighs. Blood coated his lower face along with your slick. Your face almost steamed from the humiliation. Still kneeling, he kept eye contact as he brought his fingers to his lips, coated just the same as his face. He dragged his tongue from his palm up to the underside of his appendages.
A wicked gleam flicked in his now ruby eyes, “here, you have a taste.”
He crawled back up to crowd and pin you against the couch. Without poise, he shoved his fingers into your mouth. You gagged at the intrusion and the taste of your own blood and cum. Though still high on the happy hormones, you sucked on his fingers. Maybe if you clean him, he will release you of the taste. “Fuck,” he breathed, slack jawed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
You kept his gaze, eyes bleary. That was enough for Baji. He pulled out from your mouth and sat back up. Impatient, he flicked up the button of his black jeans along with the zipper. The vampire couldn’t take it anymore. He had to be in you. From what he gathered tonguefucking you, you were warm and tight.
He tugged down his pants and boxers with the crass he lacked when he undressed you. His cock was heavy as it flopped out from the constricting material. Baji sighed in relief. His cock was pretty. It was about average length but it was thick. His pubes were untamed and you squirmed at how it would feel against your already overstimulated clit. Precum drooled from the head.
Thank fuck he opened you up or else you don’t think you could handle it with no prep. Baji gathered your arms again. Now filled with your blood, Baji was warm, hot. With his free hand, he lined himself up to your twitching hole.
With no warning, he breached your slit. You groan at how the head bullied its way inside you. Baji followed the noise as he forced his hips further. The drag of his cock against your almost reluctant walls was having you see stars.
He went back to wrapping a hand around your throat, fingers almost meeting at the back of your neck. Baji was so much bigger and stronger than you. He was just a tall man in general, but as he hovered over you with his hips smooshed against yours, you melt at how he engulfs you.
Buried to the hilt, the vampire brings his mouth back to your throat, the wound still throbbed.
“So good,” he slurred.
At that he started his rhythm. He pulled his hips back until only his cockhead was in you. You whined at being almost empty again. He shushed you. Right when he slammed in, he bit down on your throat, a lower place than before. You screamed.
“T-too much!” you cried.
“You can take it.”
Baji ignored your pleas as he fucked into you like a piston. He was using you like a cocksleeve. His pace was thorough and hard. His cock was filling you up in ways you never had before. It was like he was trying to mold your cunny to the shape of his cock.
Baji kept gulping down your blood until you were fuzzy again but this time it was from the blood loss. If he kept drinking from you, you might actually pass out.
You clenched down at the thought. Would he still keep fucking into you even if you were unconscious? A sick part of you wanted him to. So drunk off him, you wanted to be used by him in any way he needed. Why were you so set on killing him only hours ago?
Fuck, maybe you were dying. What a whorish way to go out.
Baji squeezed on your wrists as he lost his rhythm.
“I’m close, fuck, you are divine. Your blood and your pussy. You were built just for me, my eternal.”
A sense of foreboding tried to dig into your consciousness but you were so focused on how you were right that his pubes digging into your clit was too much. Almost to your end as well, you canted your hips in tandem to his.
“More, more,” you pleaded. More of what? You had no clue.
Baji did know what you needed as he pressed his hand further into your throat, squeezing the sides to cut off blood flow to your brain. That was enough for you to clench down so hard that Baji growled. As your cunt fluttered around him, the vampire bit further into the juncture of your shoulder until teeth almost met teeth. You screeched at the pain and Baji’s hips stuttered as he came deep in you. Him filling you has that same ringing blind you.
You came right after him as he kept thrusting his hips into yours, not ready to leave your warmth. The strain of cumming left you limp in Baji’s grasp. Pulling his teeth from your throat, he saw the mess he left of your neck. It was as if you were mauled by a wolf rather than the vampire before you.
You were losing blood fast and no matter how much Baji licked your wounds, it wouldn’t take back all the blood he took from you. Releasing the hand from your neck, he ripped open his own wrist so the life he stole from you and cycled through his undead heart poured from him.
He brought the bleeding arm to your mouth, “drink,” he commanded just as he did earlier tonight.
With no way to resist, you drank. You drank until your belly was filled with his blood that was once yours. Letting go of your bound hands, you cradled the wrist as you swallow all you can, desperate. This was likened to drinking liquid candy.
“Enough.”
Baji pulled his arm away as you whined, missing the taste. Your chin was drenched with blood just as him. Slowly your wounds started to close and your missing blood was replenished. Despite this, you still were in an endless fog.
The vampire leaned back on the other end of the couch and gathered you in his arms. He rested your weary head on his plush pectoral. Whatever drive you had was gone. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. Eternally.

network: @tokyometronetwork
#yandere baji#yandere baji x reader#yandere x reader#yandere tokyo revengers#yander tokrev x reader#yandere#yandere baji keisuke#tokyo revengers smut#viruses#dark.web
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VAMP AU - basics iii.
Interested in the Octavinelle Coven? Be careful...it’s never wise to poke your nose in vampire business unaware, but dealings with these vampires never end in the favor of the human.
CW: blood, death, stalking/hunting, religious imagery, dark/obsessive/possessive characters. this au is not NSFW, but it does deal with darker content and sometimes discusses sensuality and sensual topics. reader discretion is advised.
Dorm-Specific CW: murder
overview. ❧ heartslabyul. savanclaw. {octavinelle.} scarabia. pomefiore. ignihyde. diasomnia.
The Octavinelle Coven has a powerful hold over the human realm, though nobody knows of their influence by name. They tend to live in urban coastal areas, thriving off of the drunkards and gamblers and other impulsive nightlife within the cities. Their coven head hasn’t changed for years and years and years, so long ago that nobody really gives much thought as to how they came to power and who they are. The Octavinelle Coven is one of the covens that is very loose with the internal sense of belonging. Vampires associated with Octavinelle usually either have a strong affinity for hypnosis or telepathy…..or maybe they’re just really, really smart and persuasive?
Usually these vampires use feeding as a threat for their “deals” or to send messages to people and groups they don’t like. A lot of Octavinelle Coven members have human friends that have offered to be their blood source, or they just rob a blood bank once in a while.
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Azul Ashengrotto - Blood Oath
Azul is the leader of his coven, though his charges are mostly left to their own devices. They know better than to try and strike deals with him, so nobody ever asks him of much, and if they’re summoned, they know it means trouble. Some work for him, of course, but the relationship is strictly professional.
He pretends he is a true vampire, as there are few ways to tell if somebody is lying, but in reality he was turned long, long ago. This is a source of great embarrassment to Azul, as he feels it would undermine all of his work. (It wouldn’t, at least, definitely not in the human realm, but even as a vampire Azul’s still got some issues rip) Only Jade and Floyd know this about him.
Azul was turned as a result of a few vampires looking to turn some new allies. As a human he was weak, and he couldn't fight off a vampire on his own, let alone four. After turning him, they made him follow their orders, sure he would never be able to one-up them and gain his own independence. Of course, Azul is a spiteful, clever being, one that should never be underestimated.
As a turned vampire, Azul's magic should be weaker than a true vampire's. However, he spent centuries mastering every craft he could get a textbook or a mentor for, and now he's one of the most powerful vampires around.
He met Jade and Floyd shortly after freeing himself from the vampires that turned him, still determined to make sure nobody could ever make a fool of him in the ways they did again. The twins, who freshly inherited a certain side business of “their father,” thought Azul would be fun to play with and offered to help him become the coven head of Octavinelle. They only wanted to be his right- and left-hand men in exchange…and teasing privileges.
The coven has a front of a rooftop night lounge, one of the most iconic and influential places in the city Azul resides in. It also serves as the coven “headquarters,” and are where coven members are summoned if they need to be dealt with. The lounge menu and infrastructure are safe for both vampires and humans - but it’s an unspoken rule that it’s not really a safe place for humans in the long run. Good thing the city is full of thrill seekers.
If you find yourself having fallen into the lion’s den, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to completely withhold a way out. He remembers how it felt to be as helpless as you are right now, so he’ll throw you a bone. But you can never get something for nothing, and Azul is far stronger than he used to be…just don’t cross him when he’s already giving you the chance of a lifetime, or else you might find yourself bound to him for eternity.
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Jade Leech - Blood Brothers, part i
There is an extremely rare occurrence in which the magical flow of the universe ebbs for just a moment, and a perfect equilibrium is achieved throughout all realms and mediums that use magic. Jade was “born” in this moment a long time ago to a Vampire that wished for a prodigy and, in a dire situation, a successor.
Eventually his father became infatuated with a human, and, as Jade grew into maturity, his father ordered him to hunt this human down. He was told where she lived, and that she had a son - Jade was ordered to get rid of this child and take her back, alive, at all costs.
Jade was more than capable of completing the job, but when he got to the city and found the family of two, he was hit with a…feeling. He began to follow the woman’s child, Floyd, around - one who was about his same “age,” and looked strikingly similar to him - before realizing that he and this human understood each other on a wavelength that he could tell was special. Immediately, he decided to turn Floyd, using a ritual that would bond the two of them as brothers for eternity. Instead of hiding away and taking care of this fledgling until he reached maturity, the two of them found the woman and Floyd fed on her. Together, they hunted Jade’s “father” and eventually took him down, as well.
Jade took over his father’s “business,” which is exactly as it sounds in canon and deals with both humans and vampires. Jade doesn’t go out onto the field unless he’s bored, though. Still, with a life as long as his…the amount of “trouble” he’s gotten himself into is still substantial. You’re best off not asking about it.
He was interested in Azul for multiple reasons, mainly because he saw it as an easy allyship (and a fun person to tease). Azul was hellbent on making sure those who wronged him now answered to him - so why not make all Octavinelle vampires answer to him? It’s all too easy for an eternal creature to get complacent, but Azul seems to have a never-ending supply of willpower. He’s formidable in any form, and it’s even better to see how far he can get when the right buttons are pressed.
Jade doesn’t mind his work for Azul. After all, it’s the most efficient way to witness all kinds of people in the lounge. And so many shady deals go down within the booths and dim lighting…it’s fascinating to watch as humans and vampires alike walk into blatantly laid traps, or how they try to wriggle out of one.
So if he finds you fascinating, you best watch your back. Jade is an expert manipulator, and frequently seeing him out of the corner of your eye is almost worse than having to answer to him head-on. Don’t be so scared! He’ll be gentle with his favorite little human…but if you knew how he treated others, that might not be saying much…
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Floyd Leech - Blood Brothers, part ii
Floyd was born on that same rare moment of magic harmony that Jade was, but with a catch - he was born much later, and he was born a human. However, Jade’s “father” had imprinted on Floyd’s mother, not quite in love with her, but obsessed.
Throughout his entire life, Floyd felt disconnected from the people around him. He was always more sensitive to his environment, too. While his propensity for mood swings is just part of him, he always found himself in a worse mood around summer time and during the day. He thought himself stronger and faster than most of the people around him, too. Eventually, he got wrapped up with a bunch of shady folk (who he would eventually learn were the more casual members of the Octavinelle coven) and lived a sort of half-human, half-vampire lifestyle.
As soon as he met Jade, he knew Jade was a vampire. But he also knew that the two of them got along better than anybody else, and that there was a certain kinship they shared that he couldn't describe (not that he was particularly motivated to). When Jade proposed turning him, Floyd didn't need to think about it before agreeing. When he had his first feeding, he felt more apathy than distress. Perhaps it was his soul leaving his body in the turning, or how he was bonded to Jade. Although, he had a feeling he'd stick with Jade no matter HOW he was turned…
Floyd is supposed to work in the lounge with his brother, but more often than not he’s roaming the streets, either in search of trouble or in search of blood. As a result of his frequent outings, he’s usually called on when there’s a turned vampire who needs a supply of blood, STAT. However, he gets bored with sitting there and letting them drink all the blood he worked so hard to get. When he pulls away, they’re willing to do almost anything to get to be able to finish drinking. These fledglings are such desperate fools…
Floyd doesn’t get why Azul is so bent out of shape about being a turned vampire. He’s turned, after all, and look how much cooler he is! This is a major point of contention between the two (read: Floyd teases Azul about this relentlessly. It’s a wonder nobody’s found out that Azul’s not the true vampire he claims to be with how incessant he is about it.)
If his history is anything to go by, Floyd knows when he likes something and when it’ll stick. He’s been with Jade and Azul for centuries, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever leave! So, if he happens to take a liking to you, your fate is as good as decided. However, Floyd’s never minded a bit of a chase, so be sure to make this one fun, mmkay?
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagines#vamp au#octavinelle vamp
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(just a little late) you found me
for @horrornaturalevent week 2: bloody Dean POV. He and Sam are going to a vampire masquerade ball to find the alpha. They don't expect to see someone familiar there.
The secondhand tuxedo itches under Dean’s armpits and sags at the crotch. It feels like wearing someone else’s very overwashed, never dry cleaned skin. The bridge of his nose aches from the hard plastic cat mask he’s wearing, and it doesn’t help that Sam can’t even see him rolling his eyes or muttering swear words into the echo of the plastic around his mouth.
If Cas had been here, they wouldn’t have had to don this ridiculous get up. The angel could’ve mind-mojoed the head chef into believing they were part of the catering staff. But Cas has been radio silent since going off to chase a lead on Kelly in Vermont, of all places, so Dean and Sam had no choice to go in full disguise to what Sam’s been calling “the alpha vampire masquerade ball.” He even quoted some Shakespeare on the drive there, earning him a whack on the back of the head. Or an attempted whack anyways. This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, or Eyes Wide Shut, or anything remotely sexy or exciting. They don’t even get to wear cool masks or sample the free flowing champagne.
They’re just standing there, receiving the aprons that the head chef is passing out and nodding numbly to the chef’s rambling speech about the head-down, silent service policy. Don’t interact with the guests unless spoken to. Don’t take off the masks unless asked to do so. Don’t touch the blood fountains. Dean glances over at Sam, who’s two other waiters away, and nods slightly. They’re going to need to get the staff out before anyone ends up as refills for the blood fountains.
In all the years of hunting vamps Dean’s never come across bourgeois vampires. Ones with all the theatrics and glamour of stupid chick-flick paperbacks and B-horror movies. He figures this has to be the alpha vampire’s doing. The publicity, the costuming, the cinema of it all. After entire families started going missing, Dean and Sam figured out that the alpha was not only alive, but likely to name a new successor. They’d captured and questioned enough vampires to get the location of the ball, but not enough to find out when this deranged coronotation might be going down. The gathering is a three-day affair; Dean really hopes daddy vamp is making his big move on day one so he doesn’t have to suffer through this mask and rented tuxedo again.
He wishes Cas was here. Not just for the mind-mojoing. He’d feel better knowing exactly where Cas was before heading into a vampire’s den. Vermont is too boring to have taken his attention for this long anyways. They should’ve heard from him by now, at least in the form of another long voice mall. Cas has started leaving voice messages instead of texting, and Dean would never admit it but he likes hearing his voice much better than texts. It feels closer, and closeness is a rarity right now when his mother feels so far away and every strenuous knot tied in their family only seems to unravel.
The head chef finally opens the kitchen doors and lets them into the main hall. Dean works on ducking past the stream of staff to find Sam. He tries not to gawk at their surroundings, but it’s impossible not to pay attention to the glistening gold ceiling and pearl pillars of the ballroom. A spinning disco ball of aqua green and blue throws ocean waves of color across the throngs, bathing everything in an eerily calm hue. Bodies are dangling from the ceiling at odd angles--right, the blood fountains--and open wounds are dripping into giant vats below. Vampires are wearing heavy velvet dresses and bejeweled capes drag across the marble floor. There’s at least fifty people in the hall, and he’s sure more are going to be arriving as the night wears on.
His shoulder bumps against something that feels like a foot and he glances up the body right above his left shoulder. The girl is wearing a sequined dress. She’s suspended on her back by metal pins attached to a lever that hoist her corpse up and down. Blood streams down from her split spine and collects into a shallow gondola that stands waist-high on silver stumps. Her eyes are wide and sightless. She’s dead for sure. He ghosts a finger over her pale ankle just to make sure and says a mental I’m sorry.
The catering staff are 100% going to be replacements for these bodies once they’re completely drained. He and Sam have to find the alpha before that. Dean tries not to look at the bodies swinging from the roof. He can’t help them now. He needs to focus on those he can save, not the ones that the kindest thing he can do is a soft burial.
He makes his way towards Sam but gets stuck when trying to elbow past the three vampires in tailcoats who are walking spread out, swinging their ivory canes back and forth like they’re strolling around some Victorian garden. He keeps his head low and makes a move to squeeze past the one on the right, but they move and block his path again, still chattering obliviously. An opening finally appears when they sidestep around a triangular blood fountain-a headless body is being wrung out over a moving train of ornate shotglasses--and Dean’s almost past them when he catches a word they’ve said.
A word that makes his toes instinctively curl inwards. His fingers tighten and he almost drops the tray of miniature blood jellos he’s supposed to be handing out.
Angel.
Dean slinks back behind the trio. He forgets about Sam, about the alpha, about this stupid oversized tux.
“You can’t be serious,” the vampire in the middle says. “No one’s seen an angel for years.”
keep reading on a03
#my spn fanfic#cw blood and gore#angelfish halloween#tusersana#jennmish#archervale#blueecp#feathersforcas#justcastiel#userda#castyel#deancaskiss#usertabitha#slipper007#greatcometcas#spxcekya#userbon#spn fic
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Howl
Pairing: Implied Din and Female Reader
Word Count: 700
Rating: T
Summary: A little drabble in which Reader discovers werewolves exist.
Warnings: Werewolf AU, injuries, worldbuilding, Reader is 18 + is in college but no physical characteristics described,
Author Note: Wrote this with the absolutely lovely and talented @beecastle on Frantic Fanfic. Did a little bit of editing but overall it stayed the same as it was written during our timed back and forth session. Hope somebody out there enjoys it 😊
More Frantic Fanfics
You were eighteen when a werewolf bit you and changed your life.
Prior to that night in the woods, sneaking out to meet your best friend for one last summer party before college started in the fall, you hadn't known werewolves were even a real thing—that all the monsters from your childhood stories (vampires, mermaids, wizards, fairies, the list goes on) were real. And then your whole world imploded when a werewolf decided to sink its teeth into your shoulder after tackling you into the dirt.
As for the reason why it picked you specifically out of the crowd of screaming teens, you can only guess. The creature bolted into the shadows before you had a chance to ask. Maybe they liked how you smelled, or maybe you were the slowest of the bunch. You'd never been gifted with athletic skills—more likely to trip and break your face than clear a hurdle or catch a ball.
But for all the questions and confusion, there is one thing you know for sure. The bite led you to Din. And for that, you'd always be grateful.
Ending that night in the emergency room was not what you had expected when you’d initially snuck out, but the doctors assured you that you’d had been lucky, the creature only barely managed to bite you, sinking its teeth in just a quarter of an inch. They said you needed to keep the wound clean and it would close by itself.
And so it did.
However, you fell ill with a high fever and shivers the next week, forcing you to miss your first week of college. The symptoms disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared, and two days later you were feeling as good as new, if not better.
Except there was something odd going on in the aftermath. Your senses seemed to be heightened, even the faintest of smells caused a strong reaction. And there was a restless feeling inside of you, as if something was yearning to come out.
This was something you couldn't make sense of on your own, but you also weren’t about to ask your parents or dormmate about it, that would only guarantee some odd looks and possibly get you a session with a shrink. So, as anyone with a question would do in this day and age, you opened up your computer and searched "enhanced abilities after being bitten by a wolf?" before falling down an internet rabbit hole.
And four hours later, you knew with absolute certainty you were becoming a werewolf.
Thanks Google.
Most websites would tell you werewolves didn't exist, spouting off all the well-known details about full moons and feral transformations and blah blah blah. But beneath all the lies dissuading the general public from believing in them, you found an online forum with dozens of people claiming they had connections with real life werewolves—Packs, they called them. And not only were Packs a real thing you had to wrap your head around—werewolf hunters were also frighteningly real, so it seemed.
One message in particular caught your attention, a response to a user claiming to be on the run from somebody ominously called the Moff.
FIND DIN.
At first you thought they misspelled the word 'den', like a wolf's den, a safe haven of sorts. But then 'Din' popped up again later, another user saying this so-called Din saved their lives.
HE'S A HERO, they wrote. THE BEST ONE OF US.
Your intrigue increased tenfold, that restless feeling inside of you sending a shiver down your spine. So, within the world of werewolves, this Din figure was kind of a big deal apparently.
Your lips pursed, nails tapping your mouse for a beat, before you decided screw it and posted a message of your own on the forum, asking how one might go about finding Din.
There was no immediate response. Then an hour passed, and another, and just when you'd given up hope for a response your computer dinged with an alert.
THE SAME WAY ALL WOLVES FIND EACH OTHER, the message read.
Eyes widening, your heart performed a funny little flip in your chest. "They howl," you murmured, turning to look out your window at the crescent moon.
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One of Us, Now
Just... let me have this, okay? Major Cataclysm spoilers ahead 4.7k words I did not mean for this to get this long
—
The door to the den burst open and Asher rushed in. “Thanks, Cam,” he threw over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.
He looked toward the stairs and opened his jaw wide to shout, mouth already forming the first phoneme of my name—when he caught sight of me in the corner of his eye.
“Oh, thank God you’re still here,” he said.
“You told me to be,” I replied nonchalantly. “What happened to you?”
He shook his head. “No time to explain. We have to get Milo and his mate in the truck and get the hell out of Dahlia.”
He was already grabbing me by the arm and pulling me up off the couch, immediately pushing me toward the stairs. I rushed up them, swatting at Asher’s hands as he tried to guide me toward my room. “I’m an adult, Alpha!” I snapped, ducking into the room I’d been staying in for a year and grabbing the duffel bag that I’d never unpacked fully when I stopped staying in the unempowered slums of the city. Asher always encouraged me to stay semi-packed in case we needed to get out fast.
I shoved what little I hadn’t left in the bag back inside and went to help Asher with Milo and his mate’s things.
Asher had swung Milo up into his arms, and his mate and I grabbed what little they both had packed and we followed Asher back downstairs and to the truck. Milo’s mate helped Milo get buckled into the backseat while Asher went back to the den and locked the door. I got into the front passenger seat so Milo’s mate could sit with him. Asher hopped into the driver’s seat and off we went.
The sun had gone down, and Asher swore when he saw the last rays of sunlight vanish.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on, now?” I asked.
Milo mumbled something semi-coherent from the backseat. I glanced back to see him mostly-asleep on his mate’s shoulder while they held him and stroked his hair.
“He asked where we’re going,” they said.
“Ferris. Keaton Pack’s old den. Avior’s there with the haven’s daemons,” Asher said. He handed me his phone. “Send an emergency message to the pack group chat. Tell them all to pack a bag and meet there.”
I nodded and took his phone, typing fast.
“What happened, Ash?” Milo’s mate asked. “You look like hell.”
“I made it to the Invoker,” Asher growled. “He was an ancient daemon. Sacrificed himself so we could succeed. But... his death gave the invocations back to the Mass-Makers. One of them snatched control of Dahlia and told the rest to vy for territory elsewhere. The Imperium’s dead.” He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye while we were pulled up at a stoplight. “The pack will protect you from the vampires. I promise.”
I saw Milo try to nod in the backseat, nearly slumping off his mate’s shoulder before they caught him.
“Alpha, one unempowered human isn’t worth that kinda risk for your whole pack,” I said. “I’ll stay but I’m not worth it. Don’t—”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Milo’s mate interrupted.
“Get what?” I looked back at them.
They gave me a smile—a similar lopsided one to Milo’s. “This is a shifter pack,” they said. “It doesn’t matter that you’re not empowered. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a shifter. It doesn’t matter that you’re not partners with a member of the pack. They accepted you as one of their own, and you’re part of the pack. You’re one of us now. You’re a member just as much as I am.”
“Damn right,” Milo mumbled—with great enthusiasm for how asleep he was.
His mate smiled softly at him and stroked his hair again.
“They’re both right,” Asher added quietly. “You’re one of us now. You have been for a while. You gave the pack something to fight for, and that made you part of it. And the pack protects their own.”
“Alpha—”
“Asher,” he interrupted.
I gaped at him.
In the last year, I’d noticed that only a handful of people—even in the pack—were allowed to call Asher by his actual name, rather than Alpha. Milo called him Ash, but Milo had told me multiple times that the two of them were brothers in all but blood. He was the only one who called him Ash. Milo’s precocious mother—Marie—seemed to call him Asher whether he wanted her to or not but he seemed resigned to that much.
Even Milo’s mate looked surprised at the insistence.
“Asher,” I tried again. Gentler. “I appreciate the sentiment but—”
“Don’t bother to protest,” Asher said. “I doubt packs will have much power against the might of vampire warlords but that doesn’t matter. You’re one of us.” He looked in the rearview mirror. “It’s a couple-hour drive up to Ferris,” he informed Milo’s mate. “Get some sleep.”
They nodded and settled against Milo.
Asher glanced at me. “You too,” he said.
“I don’t want you to be alone,” I replied. “No one should be the only one awake in a car with multiple passengers on a ride this long.”
Asher shrugged. “I’m too wired after all the violence to even consider sleeping. If I start feeling it, I’ll wake you up.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
I snuggled down into my seat. “Okay. Don’t do anything stupid, Alph—Asher.”
I closed my eyes, and after a few minutes, the gentle rumbling of the car engine put me out.
—
On a long, straight, empty stretch of road, Asher wiggled out of his jacket one arm at a time. The heater in the truck finally stopped him from feeling the chill. He did his best to gently drape it over his unempowered troublemaker in the passenger seat.
He’d meant every word. They were part of his pack now, and he’d defend them just as fiercely as he’d defend any of the wolves under his care.
There wasn’t really a Department anymore for him to update the pack’s records that they were part of it, but that couldn’t have mattered less to him.
He peeked at them out of the corner of his eye. Snuggled up under his jacket, eyelashes casting shadows down their cheeks from the soft lights on the truck’s dashboard and occasional streetlight.
They’d make a good mate for someone in the pack, he thought idly.
And nearly ran the truck off the road with how bad he jolted at the way his Core lit up.
No, he scolded his Core silently. No, no, no, no, no. We already did this. I already had a mate and I lost him. I’m not taking another one. I’m not going through that again.
He shoved a hand through his unruly hair, blocking out the memories of a scarred, strong hand tugging at his curls and the imaginings of a smaller, softer hand doing the same. Absolutely not. This is not happening. I am not making them my mate.
His Core flared again. Hopeful.
No. Asher clenched his jaw, trying not to growl aloud to wake everyone else in the truck.
—
“Glad you made it safe,” Avior said as Asher jumped out of the truck. “Is the rest of your pack on the way?”
“Yeah,” Asher replied. “How are all your daemons?” He rolled his stiff shoulders to stretch them out. Avior looked like hell. Asher hadn’t met him much over the last year, but his usual put-together professional appearance was fraying at the seams. The daemon looked exhausted in a way Asher thought daemons never could.
Asher remembered Avior mentioning the Meridian was stable a few hours ago—and realized he never asked what Avior had done to achieve that.
Avior glanced over his shoulder at the old den. “Mostly okay. Tired but resting.”
“It’s gonna get pretty crowded if we’re all staying here when my pack shows up,” Asher said.
Avior pursed his lips. “I know. Daemons don’t need sleep but...” He shook his head. “I’m too tired to work on those logistics right now.”
Asher nodded. “I get that. Oh God do I get that.” He stretched his back and his neck.
Avior made a face that might have been amusement, then settled back into business mode. “My—the coordinator is asleep in one of the rooms inside. Want me to take their friend up to the room so they can rest together? They’ve been friends for years; I doubt either of them will mind sharing.” He moved to circle the hood of the truck to the passenger side front door.
Don’t touch them, Asher’s wolf snarled in his chest.
Calm down, he retorted to it.
Avior paused on noticing Asher’s moment of hesitation.
“Go ahead,” Asher said. “If you’d be willing.”
“Of course.”
Avior opened the passenger side door and unbuckled their seatbelt, taking them gently into his arms and heading inside.
Asher grabbed his duffel bag and theirs out of the truck bed and took them inside. He dropped theirs off in the same room Avior left them with the sleeping coordinator and dropped his in a room that Avior indicated for him.
The two went back downstairs to get Milo and his mate awake and out of the truck.
“Your pack can get some sleep when they get here. My daemons will keep watch,” Avior said.
“Thank you. I’m sure my wolves will appreciate it,” Asher replied.
—
When I woke up, I was on a thin, threadbare mattress in an unfamiliar, bare room.
A leather jacket was draped over my upper body. The scent clinging to it—
Asher’s.
The moments he and I argued and got so in each other’s face that we could smell each other.
I sat up.
The other twin bed in the room was occupied by a very familiar figure.
“Psst!” I hissed.
Their eyes opened and a smile spread across their face.
We both scrambled off the bed and crashed into a hug, Asher’s jacket getting jammed between us. “You’re okay!” they whispered.
“I’m fine. What happened to you?” I looked at a large... burn or something on their chest.
“Uh... it’s kinda... complicated? Best way I can put it is that I was kinda possessed by... a Sovereign? That used to be two Sovereigns? I guess? The magic levels kinda cracked my skin open trying to contain it all.”
“... Huh,” was all I could think to say.
“Yeah, I know. It’s weird to me too,” they said.
We hugged again, clinging to each other. For the moment, we were exhausted, but safe.
Knock-knock-knock! “Starlight?” a voice asked, muffled by the door.
“Come in, Avior,” they replied.
I smirked between them and Avior as he opened the door. “‘Starlight’?” I quoted playfully.
“Oh hush, you,” they retorted as Avior came inside.
“Well, then. I guess I’ll leave you two alooone,” I teased, slipping out of the room and pulling Asher’s jacket on properly while my friend stuck their tongue out at me. I shut the door loudly behind me, grinning.
And immediately realized I had no clue where I was. The old Keaton Pack den, sure, but where in the den was I and how did I get somewhere with something to munch on?
I picked left on a whim and went down the hallway.
Most of the doors in the hallway were either shut or open wide. I didn’t bother with the closed doors, but peeked in the open ones looking for stairs or something.
One of the doors was partially open.
When I peeked in I saw Asher sitting on a bed, curled up with his back against the wall, looking grumpy. He was wearing another leather jacket, wrapped tight around him. That one more beaten up than the one on me—and too big on him. Asher was tall and broad-shouldered. A jacket too big on him was difficult to come by—
David’s. I’d seen a picture of David and Asher before. David was taller and broader, even, than Asher. It could only have been David’s.
I knocked once on the ajar door.
He looked up and met my eyes. “Come in,” he said.
I slid inside but didn’t close the door. Just stood between the two twin beds shoved into the room and pulled his jacket off, holding it out to him.
He shrugged. “You can keep it on if you’re cold.”
“I’m alright.” I draped it over the edge of the bed. He tracked the movements with his eyes and invited me to sit on the other bed with a hand gesture. I sat, glancing at the tarnished window.
We sat in silence for a bit.
Until I couldn’t stand it. “You killed her,” I said. “Alexis.”
He nodded.
I took a deep breath. Yesterday’s—the day before’s?—argument seemed so far away now. “I... I still think it was wrong,” I admitted. Asher opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “But I think I can learn to live with it.”
He grunted.
We were quiet for a little longer.
“I don’t think you’re a monster, Asher,” I said quietly.
His eyes snapped to mine from where he’d been staring at the toes of his socks. “What?”
“You said that if killing Alexis made you a monster in my eyes, you’d learn to live with that title,” I said. “But... I don’t think you’re a monster, Asher.”
He quirked an almost-smile. “Thanks.” And went back to looking at his socks.
I thought for a minute, trying to come up with something to say. We’d spent a lot of time in the past year sharing space in silence. Milo had told me once—in the deepest of confidences—that before David’s death Asher had been something of a pack clown. A goofball who smiled often and easily. A doofus who just wanted to make people laugh.
The silences spoke more volumes to me than any secondhand tales of who the alpha used to be about who he was now.
Asher shucked off the leather jacket he was wearing. “This used to be David’s,” he said. “In case you’re wondering why the guy who insisted that we only have essentials constantly packed has two leather jackets.”
I smiled just a little. “I guessed as much,” I said. Asher gave me a look. “It’s too big on you.” He bounced his eyebrows.
And went back to being quiet.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, making a stupid face, probably, and turned my focus back to the tarnish on the window. I’d done plenty enough cleaning in my life. If I had one of those special sponges and some multi-surface cleaner, diluted with a bucket of water I could probably get some of the grime—
“It doesn’t smell like him anymore,” Asher said, jolting me out of wandering thoughts. He sniffed hard and looked toward the ceiling in an attempt to drain tears out of his eyes before they fell. “God, I—sometimes I can’t remember his scent anymore.”
What could I even say to that? Every expression of sympathy I knew sounded so hollow in the face of a loss that deep.
“It’s not enough to say ‘I’m sorry,’ Asher, but it’s all I have,” I said.
“I know. And I’m not fishing for pity or sympathy. I don’t need any of that. Not from you. I just... you’re easy to talk to and I had to get that off my chest.” He glanced at me. His eyes weren’t the cold, hard, stone amber they were a year ago when he shoved me through the door at the den and told me to sit and shut up while he read the files I’d stolen from the academy.
They were warmer and softer and they looked at me like maybe I was worth something. Something just a little bit more than the third-class citizen the Imperium treated unempowered humans as.
I remembered what he said last night. About me being one of the pack. That was it. He looked at me like I belonged to his pack and he was willing to care about me.
I gave him a small smile and we both looked away from the other’s eyes.
In the hallway, I heard my friend’s laughter—and Avior’s quiet chuckle that quickly vanished as I heard two sets of feet going down some stairs.
“So, what’s the plan now?” I asked when Avior and my friend were gone.
“We stay here. Claim some territory if we can. Fly under the vampires’ radars. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Why did we have to leave Dahlia?”
“Because it’s dangerous for us to stay under the rule of a Mass-Maker that... prolific. Collins has a rep with the Department. He got to the rank of Mass-Maker fast. Took him like twelve-to-fifteen years when it usually takes around thirty. With that many progeny at his disposal, and with Milo probably burning out his Core, the older and younger shifters, you—too many liabilities to be in a town run by that particular vampire.”
“And... Avior and the daemons?”
Asher took a deep breath and sighed. “Havens were organized so the Imperium could profit off daemons’ superior magical strength. Their former inhabitants just want to be free, rather than half-starved under lock and key. Better to get out of Collins’ way before he had them all surrounded and forced back into the haven for the same reason the Imperium wanted them.”
“Mm,” I said, nodding in understanding.
Asher nodded back and then stared at the ajar door for a bit. Floating up from wherever the stairs were, I could hear my friend laughing again. It had been a long time since I heard them laugh. Had... had I ever heard them genuinely laugh that hard?
My stomach growled. I put my arms over it to muffle the sound.
Asher swung himself up off the bed. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Too many too-sensitive ears in this place.” He offered me a hand. I took it and let him help me to my feet. He put on his well-fitted leather jacket and put David’s gently back in his duffel bag before leading me out of the room. “We’re gonna go grab something to eat,” Asher announced to Avior when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
My friend, holding Avior’s hand, exchanged a look with him before Asher practically dragged me out the door by the collar of my own jacket.
We got in his truck and drove off. “What do you want to eat?” he asked.
“I’m not picky, you know that,” I replied with a shrug. I’d never been afforded the luxury of pickiness. As an unempowered, I had to take whatever I could get.
“I still want you to choose.”
I scratched my head. “Well, you like something with at least a little meat so...”
“This isn’t about me. I already ate. What do you want?”
I snorted. “You eat enough for three people. You’re a shifter alpha who’s recovering from injuries. Your body needs a lot of energy. And I don’t know Ferris. I’ve never left Dahlia. So I don’t know what’s around here. Just... pick something that’s warm and filling and we’ll have it.”
Asher growled, but seemed to give up the argument.
He picked some random drive-thru we were passing, ordered for both of us, and we started to drive. Not back to the Keatons’ old den.
Instead, we found a park. Asher spread out the blanket he kept in the truck’s storage chest in the bed and we sat in it to eat.
“I don’t believe in an afterlife,” he said, abruptly, while we ate. I blinked.
“Oh. U-uh... okay,” I replied, a bit startled and confused.
“David, Gabe, my parents, Milo’s dad, the Keaton Pack...” He shook his curls out of his eyes. “They’re all gone. They’re not waiting for me somewhere. They’re just... gone.”
For the sake of his dignity, I ignored the tear that fell down his face that he quickly brushed away.
He met my eyes. “I... Brachium helped me come to terms with accepting that. And... and with accepting my mortality. I’m exhausted,” he continued. “Down to the marrow of my bones. My whole life it’s been give, give, give. Give myself, my health, my strength. Give everything because of the Imperium. I’m tired. I’m tired of giving everything I am. I’m not going to live forever like Avior or King Collins.” He spat the title with such sarcastic acid that I flinched. “I’m gonna die one day. I’m not going to have time to be patient and wait for the world to stop being screwed up so that I finally get the chance at being happy.”
I nodded.
“There’s no idyllic afterlife where I get to be happy and peaceful for eternity after everything I’ve suffered here,” Asher continued. “The only way I get to be happy is to be happy in this life, with whatever years I have left. I have to choose it.”
“Mmhmm,” I agreed.
“And I see you do that every day—even when the Imperium has taken even more from you. You always manage to smile and laugh, even when I see the pain in your eyes. And I... I don’t know how you do it. I’m not strong enough. But... this past year...” He set his food down. I did the same, figuring he was about to get serious and I didn’t want to have my mouth full if he needed me to actually say something.
He sighed again, looking out over the park. I followed his line of sight. I remembered being a teenager and seeing a park through the window of the school bus, watching a shifter teen transform into a giant wolf to chase a Frisbee, turning back into a human just in time to catch it. I couldn’t remember the shifter’s face, but I wondered for a moment if they had been a member of Asher’s pack.
“This past year you’ve helped me grow,” Asher said. “Your incredible emotional strength—I didn’t even realize it was happening. I... I didn’t think I could. I—” He broke off to sniff and wipe his eyes. “I’m ready to feel more than pain, now. I’m ready to take every day and make the most of my life. I’ve only got one life—who knows how many more shots I have at something good happening?”
“You just have to see what little good is left in the world,” I said, setting a hand on his knee. “That’s how I get by. I see the way Milo and his mate fawn over each other. I see the way my friend looks at Avior. I see a family holding each other’s hands as they walk down the street and I remember that happiness can be found when it’s looked for. If you’re always looking for big red trucks, you’ll see quite a few of them. If you’re looking for oak trees in a birch forest, they’ll stand out.” I licked my lower lip and gave his knee a small squeeze. “If you look for the bright spots in a dark world, the shadows can never smother them.”
Asher met my eyes as a tear spilled out of one. I wiped my face on my jacket sleeve.
“Asher, you are one of those bright spots. The world has tried to drown it, but I see that light in you. Always fighting to keep burning.” I wanted to grab his face and hold it there to make sure he looked me in the eyes to realize how serious I was, but that was definitely get a freaked-out, massive wolf snarling in the truck bed in my face, so I didn’t.
He blinked owlishly at me, eyes wide, head tilting just slightly to the side in that canine way I’d observed most of the shifters in his pack did.
“Can...” He cleared his throat. “May I kiss you?”
Yes. God, yes, please. Please kiss me, my mind begged.
But I took my hand off his knee, leaning back. “You’re still grieving David’s death. And as much as I want to say yes, I don’t want to be just some rebound.”
Asher leaned back a little too. “I’ll never stop missing him. But the grief feels farther away than it has ever been before. Fond memories of a happy time in the past. I... I want to have a chance of happiness with a mate again. And I want it with you, if you’ll have me.”
“What...” I started quietly. “Why did you flinch?”
Asher raised a hand and balled his fist in a handful of his worn-out shirt. “There’s magic, for shifters, in the word mate. Like a bolt of lightning goes through my Core when I say it... about the person... it applies to. It used to be David. But the light of the word died that night with him. Now, when I think of you, my Core... tries to light up again. My magic hopes that you’ll give me the chance. To be happy with you. To make you my mate, eventually.” His eyelids flickered at the word. “If you take this broken, messed up alpha to be yours.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came to me.
“This isn’t a rebound, I promise,” Asher whispered.
My breathing came a little harder as I stared at his eyes—his pupils dilated wide in the darkness—while he spoke. I’d never dared hope for anything no matter how much Asher had drawn me in from that first night we met. Back then, his rough exterior had made it easy to ignore how attractive I’d found him. Then finding out how he and David were involved and how David’s death had torn him apart made it easy.
But he was opening his heart for me. Offering me a place in it.
I thought of the fierceness in his voice when he’d said I was one of them. The way he looked at me like he thought I was worth something.
My heart was pounding in my chest so hard, I could barely hear over the blood roaring in my ears.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Kiss me,” I whispered. A plea.
His lips crashed into mine.
His taste was on my tongue and my eyelids dropped closed, reaching my hands up into his curls and winding my fingers around them.
Something settled in my chest. This is how it’s supposed to be, my cells seemed to say.
I pulled back. “Promise me this isn’t just because you need someone like David in your life and I remind you of him.”
Asher, cradling the back of my head, slowly lowered me down so I was lying on my back in the truck bed and swung one leg over me. “Trust me—the two of you are nothing alike.” He shook his head gently as he spoke, brushing his hair against my wrists. “Will you have me?”
“I’ll have you, Asher.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of me. He didn’t even try to resist. His mouth met mine again and I felt the addiction to his taste already forming.
His lips trailed kisses from my lips to my jaw and to a sensitive spot behind my ear that sent shivers down my entire body.
“I need you, Alpha,” I whispered, unable to stop the words even if I wanted to. “Please.”
He growled into my skin. Protective and pleased all in one. “Who am I to deny my future mate when they ask so nicely?” he replied, low and gravelly. His hand dodged under my shirt and my eyes rolled back at his warmth on my bare skin beneath. “C’mere, babe.”
He kissed me again. Deep and heady, driving out every other thought. “Ash...” His name escaped my mouth on a breath.
He smiled against my lips, and I felt the points of his teeth. “Call me that again.”
—
Tag list: @thegoldenlittlerose @zozo-01 I hope you’re happy, Zo
#Redacted ASMR#fic#Redacted Imperium#Redacted Cataclysm#Cataclysm Spoilers#Redacted Asher#Redacted Babe#Redacted Avior#Redacted Starlight#Redacted Milo#Redacted Sweetheart#Starlit Fic
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Exothermic - chapter sixteen
Amalthea vs the Wolves Den

"I'm sorry-- the fucking what? Did you say vampire? Vampire girl? Bella, what the fuck do you be doing around here that people call you that? Vampire girl!"
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The car was filled with a somber silence, drizzles of rain splattered onto the windshield only to be wiped away.
Amalthea tore her eyes away from the racing drops of rain, "So, are we just not gonna talk about the dudes who got a bit mad, turned into giant ass wolves, and almost caused my cousin to die?"
Bella nudged her cousin on the elbow, signaling for the girl to shut her mouth. Thea whispered under her breath to the brunette, "No, I'm serious. The fuck happened to normal fist fighting!" The only reply she got was another nudge and silence.
Another minute passed before Amalthea opened her mouth yet again, "Bella I know we almost, you know, passed away- but we got to go back to Uncle Charlie's if I got to do Uley's part. Haven't even started on mine, was kinda hoping I could bribe him into doing it." Bella, skin still quite pale, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
Embry and Jared sniggered as the girl muttered, thinking the wolves couldn't possibly listen in.
Embry pulled Bella's truck toward a tiny, weathered house. From the back, Jared jumped out and opened the passenger door. Both girls stayed unbudgingly still. Amalthea fearing how vulnerable not having the protection of the vehicle made the both of them, and Bella fearing for Jacob's fate.
Embry turned toward Jared, "Pay up. She didn't puke." Annoyed, the boy handed the other five bucks. "Told you she was tough! She runs with bloodsuckers."
'Bella runs with mosquitoes? The hell she doin' that for?' Amalthea thought, apprehensively looking at her worried cousin from the side of her eyes.
"Wait-- we should go back, make sure that Jacob's okay."
Jared cut in on her worries, "I hope Paul gets some teeth in him. Serves him right."
Thea had the decency to look affronted as Bella snapped her head toward the boy with squinted eyes.
"No way. Jake's a natural. Did you see the way he phased on the fly? Five bucks Paul doesn't touch him." Embry spoke, easing Bella's worries. Jared retorted back with agreeance.
The shape shifters noticed the girls hadn't moved at all, "Come on in. We won't bite." Embry spoke, grinning at the two.
Jared quipped back, "Speak for yourself."
Bella gently shoved Amalthea out, who was very much still hesitant on leaving her spot. Warily, the girls climbed out of the car and joined the waiting boys.
Embry stopped the Swan pair, "Oh, hey, about Emily - Sam's fiancé- try not to stare. Bugs Sam."
Responses of "Why would I stare--" and "Whatever man," were cut off as the shape shifters entered the house.
Hesitantly, Bella entered behind Jared and Embry, Amalthea following timidly behind her, trying to perfect her brave face. A woman was seen standing at a counter, taking freshly made muffins out of the tin. Long, black hair draped over the side of her face, "You guys hungry? Like I have to ask...."
The young woman looked toward the quartet, showcasing the three scars running from her hairline down to her chin. Quickly glancing at the lines that pulled down the woman's eye and twisted the corner of her mouth, Amalthea subtly admired the deep scars.
'Guess it's time to add facial scars to the list of things I find hot!' Thea silently thought, the voice in her mind sighing.
Amalthea's attention was broken from her thoughts when the woman spoke again, "who's this?" questioning Jared and Embry, who were beelining for the warm muffins.
Jared went for a muffin, "Bella Swan and her cousin. Who else?"
"Jesus fuck, I have a name!" Thea muttered, looking to the beautiful woman in front of her, "The cousin's name is Amalthea Swan."
A loud bang was heard from the small back yard of the house, followed by a yelp of pain. Emily pretended like the sound wasn't heard, keeping her attention on Bella.
"So you're the vampire girl."
"I'm sorry-- the fucking what? Did you say vampire? Vampire girl? Bella, what the fuck do you be doing around here that people call you that? Vampire girl!" Amalthea was absolutely appalled, confusion masquerading her fear. Both women ignored the girl and her anxious rambling.
'If shape-shifting, big ass wolves exist, who's to say vampires can't?' Thea suddenly felt a bit light headed at the idea, missing Bella's response to the woman.
"Werewolves? I'm just engaged to one. But these animals--" Emily slapped Embry's hand as she spoke, "Save some for your brothers."
It was as if the gravity of the situation finally set in. Amalthea paled and stood pin straight, with her back to the wall next to the entrance. Anxiety of all the unknown caused for her to close up. As Thea was struggling to stop trembling, Bella cautiously toed toward the counter, eyes peeled on the door for any sight of Jacob.
Thea felt buzzing in her ears, mind beginning to muddle with unpleasant thoughts and eyes never straying from her dirty shoes. She just wanted to go back to Charlie's. None of this would be happening if they just stayed at Charlie's. Breaths began to feel harder to catch, as if she just ran a mile. A weight felt like it resided in her chest and would never move again. She'd never have been in this situation- which Bella is dealing with shockingly well, may she add!- if she didn't try to see Uley. Thea wondered if he knew that his brother was a giant wolf in his spare time.
The deep, gruff voice that belonged to Sam Uley caused for her to jump in shock, heart stopping quickly just before picking back up its rapid pace again.
The man spoke from the door way, "Because there are bad things here." He walked toward Emily, "And they're getting worse."
'Whatever the fuck that means!' Thea took to cracking her knuckles, trying to calm herself down before having an actual panic attack, using techniques the guidance counseling sessions that she was forced to attend had taught her. People around the girl conversing worked as white noise to the loud thoughts that refused to leave her brain. The panic was incessant and embarrassing, considering how unaffected Bella seemed to be.
Thea looked back up from the floor when two more people walked into the small house, laughing and jabbing at one another. She watched as her cousin took a breath of relief, Jared and Embry looking over the boys in search of injury. A scar was healing on Paul's arm, leading to Jared rolling his eyes.
Amalthea watched as Bella walked toward Jacob, eyes widening in fear that Bella might leave her alone in a house where every single person was a stranger. Well, that was until a tall - and seemingly buffer than before - teen walked in from the backyard.
Hearing a dramatic intake of breath, all eyes turned to the teenager who arrived. His eyes were trained on the small, very pale girl hiding against a wall.
"Oh my god, Mal! My bestie, I've missed you! Where have you been-- wait no where have I been. I was gonna break and tell you everything anyway," a hand slapped Trevor Uley's head, though not deterring him from prancing toward the girl, "The first time you called I almost cried. Honest! Did you go to Jackson's game? Shit, I hope so." The boy took to whispering, knowing the shifters could still hear him, "Stalker wouldn't let me go." He rolled his eyes, opening his arms for Thea to give him a hug.
Little did Trevor know at the moment, his presence felt like a saving grace to the girl. Thea knew he wouldn't ditch on her like Bella would. Apparently, he missed her too much to do so.
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Longer chapter today! Nearly 1,300 words!
How's your weekend going so far? I really am not looking forward to school again on monday, it is a STRUGGLE
The support for the series lately is so cool and it makes me smile, thank you for reading
Trevor!!!! How do you think Thea is going to react?
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master list
#twilight new moon#twilight fanfiction#twilight saga#twilight#paul lahote x oc#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote fanfiction#paul lahote#paul lahote imagine#bella swan#charlie swan#billy black#harry clearwater#sam uley#jared cameron#embry call#quil ateara#jacob black#wolf pack#edward cullen#new moon#alice cullen#jasper hale#rosalie hale#emmett cullen#carlisle cullen#esme cullen#vampire
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See Through Me
Pairing: KamilahxMC
Summary: basically it's chaotic Lily, with lovesick Kamilah, then clueless Amy
Note: Set between BB1 and BB2.... and I did say that I would write after I'm settled with my classes but this was in my drafts so I just finished it. (just another way of saying I'm still not settle with my classes)
It has been a few weeks after the events with Vega in the cabin of Adrian upstate, despite that, Kamilah is still feeling some darkness waiting to emerge and cause havoc to the peace that they have. Kamilah is in her private elevator towards her office in Ahmanet financial to check some files before meeting with Lily to continue with their training. Lily may have moved in the shadow den and is also training with the vampires there, but the two of them continued their training in the studio in the office building of Kamilah. She may have grown a little fond of the fool but of course there are no hesitance in making sure that Lily becomes a strong vampire and she have made it her responsibility to look over her protégé.
And when she came out of the elevator, she sensed someone in her office, and the fact that it’s already late at night and all of her assistants and employees have already left the building she immediately withdrew her daggers to kill anyone whoever came into her office. Being as old as she is, she learned long ago that she should be ready with anything that can happen, which means she never go anywhere without her deadly jeweled dagger. When she got closer to the door with her fighting stance, she realized that it’s a vampire who is in her office but after hearing some weird noises-which is apparently a laugh- she knew that it’s Lily.
“What the hell are you doing in my office when you are supposed to be in the training studio?” she questioned with her daggers still on her hands.
Lily simply snorted without removing her eyes on her computer “Dude, the security of your computer is so shitty that a baby can get in here any moment.”
The older vampire knew that there’s no point talking to Lily when she’s transfixed in a computer. So, she just kept her blades and crossed her arms. “I assume you already modified some of the security settings” she said in an unimpressed tone.
“you’re welcome” after she finally looked at her and then the fool stood up and gave her a dramatic bow. But Lily immediately realized that she is not happy.
It’s not that she is not grateful with what Lily did but she is still in the process of trusting other people than Adrian. And after thousands of years of experiencing betrayal from different people, it’s just hard for her to just open up. Yes, she has gotten closer and got herself to trust the mortal best friend of Lily, Amy but that’s different for her. And she now considers Lily and Jax her friends though she would not say that out loud, that does not excuse what Lily did going through her computer.
“shit shit, I’m sorry Kamilah” Lily pleaded her “I swear I came here early and you were not in your office and when I sat in your chair, I saw the software and I…” the younger slumped and must have really felt sorry for her actions.
The older vampire just sighed and started walking to the door but before she opened it, she looked back to Lily “I’m expecting you to be in the studio in 5 minutes” she said with a devilish smirk on her face.
“damn, I’m getting my ass kicked so bad”
Once both of them are in their training outfit, they did separate warmups before having a hand to hand combat. Kamilah is not the kind of teacher that the students will love, instead she is strict but patient when it comes to training her proteges.
“You know, I’m actually torn if you should be master Shifu or Tigress” Lily said before they have their fighting stance. “I asked my gal Amy about that earlier and she said you’re definitely Tigress” Lily continued.
Kamilah did not know and did not care in whatever Lily was talking about but when she heard the name of her mortal, her interest has been piqued, however it was covered by her stoic façade. “I don’t know what that is, and your right leg is positioned wrong”
Lily did not respond or make any more comments throughout the training. And Kamilah felt a relief without those silly comments that the young vampire always has, perhaps she still feels guilty about what happened in her office. At the end of their training, Lily was lying on the floor with her arms and legs spread out and her eyes wide open.
“What the hell happened to you?” Kamilah asked but in her mind, she thought that younger vampires are so bloody dramatic. “you kicked me to a wall so many times I lost track, and I can’t even complain because this is like your revenge” Lily replied while trying to sit “and my girl is right you definitely are Tigress” she added. Kamilah would not have cared why she is being told to be like a female tiger though she remembered that Lily mentioned something about her mortal saying she is a tigress, she cannot bring herself to ask Lily about the thoughts of Amy.
To say that she wishes to know the thoughts of the mortal is an understatement, there are many questions in her mind about Amy. Does she think of the old vampire as often as she thinks of her? does she also feel like the world around them vanishes when it’s just the two of them in a room? does she know that the thought of her brings Kamilah to peace and comfort?
“Will you kill me if I ask if we can take a selfie together?” Lily asked while gathering her things.
“A what?” Kamilah knows that languages are dynamic but this woman with her is a chaotic dumbass that sometimes she wonders if she is just making up words.
“A picture together, Imma send it to Amy later” Lily said nonchalantly while taking out her phone.
She just huffed and nodded but if it was somebody else that asked her, she would’ve stabbed them already. She simply isn’t interested in taking pictures but the back of her mind tells her that she’s doing it because she wishes that her Amy would see her even in just a picture. Kamilah may not admit it but she knows that after a few weeks of knowing and spending time with Amy, she’s already acting like a lovesick fool as if her day will not be complete without the girl being a part of it. Even as small as hearing her name, seeing her across the conference table, smelling her scent, and feeling her presence is enough to make lighten up her mood.
Lily moved closer to her and took the goddamn picture. “alright and sent!” Lily said in a very enthusiastic way. “Why are you so energetic” Kamilah sighed and she really did not know how Lily gets this energy. “I think I am energetic too especially for someone who got her ass kicked a lot of times” the young vampire murmured while preparing to go out of the building “Adios Sayeed! Fuck you very much for the body pain” Lily as she walked away and the fool had the audacity to raise her middle finger at her and then running away like a scared child after she glared at her.
She made her way to her private suite within the building to freshen up as she plans to visit her mortal. Even though she is certain that Amy is not yet sleeping- she may have memorized the schedule of the girl- she sent her a message, to inform the young woman of her visit.
“The company is very welcome” Amy replied with an “emoji” that she still refuses to use and a series of hearts.
On the way to the young mortal’s apartment, the mind of the vampire was just around how she misses her and how she wants to hold her forever. Love, crossed her mind many times whenever these kinds of thoughts invade her mind and infect her heart. And her mind says that she is not yet ready for such attachments, but her heart says otherwise, the stupid thing on her chest just knows that Amy is the one that she has been unconsciously looking for. Like being blind for two thousand years and finally seeing such beautiful colors for the first time, all this time she was blindly looking for something and when her heart found it, her too smart brain just won’t allow it.
And when she reached and entered the apartment, warmth filled her body and her eyes felt moist as if tears are ready to come down her face, that will go through her lips as it formed an endearing smile reserved for the woman smiling back at her. Amy stood up to welcome her with a light embrace and she knew, she’s home, and that her mind has surrendered to her heart completely and irrevocably.
“Sorry for the late visit” she said sheepishly while sitting down in the living room which was quickly responded by Amy with a smile “I did say that the company is welcome” that eased her, something about this woman just comforts her. “How’s training with Lil?” the girl asked while taking her right arm to loop it around her body. She recalled and told her the events that happened a few hours ago that made the girl in her arms giggle.
“She did send me the selfie” Amy said.
So, it really was a word and not a thing that Lily just randomly came up with she thought “I’m certain I don’t need to ask to know if I look presentable in the picture” She said too confidently when the truth is, she just wants to hear the girl say something about her. Apparently falling in love is making her greedy of attention.
“Why does that sound like you just want me to say that you are absolutely gorgeous especially when it’s after being a badass” the young girl said while laughing which made the older woman raise her brows, then she added “but kidding aside, you always look amazing”
Kamilah hid the giddiness she felt on her body by kissing the crown of the younger woman’s head “I suppose that’s just how it is” which made Amy laugh again who stood up and took her hand then lead her to the room “You need sleep, you’re getting way ahead of yourself” and now it’s the vampire’s turn to laugh but she just followed her to the room where they settled. This was not the first time that she will be sleeping over so she already knew which clothes she can borrow and which side she would sleep in. Moments like this are treasured for Kamilah because they are able to build a foundation for their relationship, or whatever this is, with connection and not just sex. She loves the part where they act on their desires and lusts, but the nights where they just lay in bed and talk are something she really adore. To understand and be understood is something her soul has been longing for.
And as they lay together, holding each other close, she thought of all the times where she fell in love to someone, and how it was all nothing compared to what she is feeling for the woman beside her. “Thank you” Kamilah whispered randomly, which Amy still responded sleepily to “you’re welcome to stay here any time”
Little did the mortal know that she is so grateful for her bringing light to the ancient vampire’s life, for looking at her and not seeing a monster, for letting her experience all the best feelings she never thought she would feel, and for making her try to be a person worthy of her love.
It has only been weeks, and she is already in too deep.
Only been weeks, and she already swear to protect Amy with her life.
She’s been existing for two thousand years, but it has only been weeks since she has truly lived.
#kamilah sayeed#kamilah x mc#kamilah sayeed fanfics#BB#choices stories you play#bloodbound fanfiction#choices kamilah
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