#normalize vampires with mustaches

[leashybebes]

🩸🩸 please!!

more of them being Incredibly Normal about each other in the middle of something objectively more important! picks up from here

The bullshit does work, and Tommy steps into a house that smells mostly like someone else, but enough like Evan that it makes him feel…well, it makes him feel like telling Evan to close the blinds, turning right around and throwing himself into the kind of melee he hasn't seen since the late 1800s. 

"Make the call," Tommy tells him, and goes to look out of the blinds. There are three outside the house, talking together too quietly for Tommy to hear. He tries anyway, wishing he hadn't had time to see the scattering of photos around the room - Evan with the guy from his station, pre-mustache apparently. Evan with a cute kid. Evan and the guy with the cute kid.

His fangs are aching.

Evan steps up beside him, craning his neck to see. His body heat is indescribable. Tommy has missed it so much. Tommy is maybe going to strangle him.

"I said make the call!"

"Calm down," Evan says, mildly. "First, you just said it was impossible for them to get in. I don't plan on inviting them. Second, I don't know what I'm supposed to be saying."

Definitely going to strangle him.

"'My name is Evan Buckley, I'm being followed by a group of vampires in the midst of the worst spate of vamp attacks LA has seen this century, and I'm calling because I don't have a death wish'," Tommy suggests.

"Right," Evan says. "Yeah. Okay."

[pawrklean]

i actually love the Vlad the Impaler clone in clone high, i love the pure CHAOS in his eyes i love his expressions i love how his design isn’t extremely stereotypical i love his edgy teenager-ness i love how he talks like a stupid dramatic vampire i love how he canonically paints his nails i love his stupid little mustache i love him LOOK AT HIM hes so perfect and cool and awesome i personally think he has the best design out of most of the second generation clones because he actually dresses like a teenager and i think this little cunt has even made me hyperfixated on vampires because i just love him love him love him i really wish they gave him more lines because they actually gave him a romanian accent too

definitely so so normal about him….

[voluptuarian]

Rating the Orloks from most to least fuckable

Now that I've watched all 3 Nosferatus and Shadow of the Vampire, its time to answer the most important question anybody could have about these films: which Count Orlok is the most fuckable??

1922: Ok, maybe I can see it. Grandpa is stunting in doorways and serving with his little outfit and we appreciate a man who can wear many hats. Also respect to an og silent film baddy.

Rating: not for me, but I'll hear you out

2024: This one's for the folks who only ever fixate on the crustiest most questionable characters possible. Like crushed on Heisenberg from Resident Evil, wants do filthy things to Grima Wormtongue folks. Pros: he's tall, I guess. The mustache is kind of charming and I will admit the brief flicker of genuine human emotion and the speeches in reconstructed quasi-Dacian are kind of compelling. Cons: the balding, peeling, scabies-riddled corpse-look and soul-deep workhouse wheeze are decidely unattractive. I can only imagine the olfactory aspects are not much better. Did look remarkably improved after eating a couple people but still. (Whether those people were friends of yours or not probably also factoring in here.) The Or-cock is respectably proportioned but has syphilitic vibes. Unclear whether the Cossack top lock should be a pro or con, so just leaving that here. I will say the whole vibe generally is still less off-putting than a number of customer service interactions I've had.

Rating: at least this is better than having to hear how fuckable Beetlejuice is again

Shadow of the Vampire: He's weird, he's ugly, he's unappealing, he owns one outfit, he drops into remiscences about his glorious youth that you aren't sure whether to believe or not, he's disturbingly obsessed with a female celebrity, he lives in a hole and comes out occasionally to Ozzy Osbourne a bat or two and clack his nasty acrylics at people like a tiktok child. This is just any normal hateful, horrifying old gay man you'd pass on the street.

Rating: No

1979: Imagine the world's most inhumanely overbred, miserable and self-pitying toy dog sits across the table from you. It glares at you with total hatred burning in its weepy red eyes, breath snuffling loudly through its stunted nasal passages. Already it relishes the prospect of your imminent death in its shriveled, malformed little heart. And then it starts licking you. That is 79 Orlok.

Rating: possibly the least fuckable vampire in history. Ew

[mod-jesse]

My gift for @redwineflowers as part of the @mcytblrholidayexchange

If I knew how to write i would write such a good fanfiction about these two, i read up your concepts, masquerade ball? Fae lizzie? Partners in crime w/ a vampire Jumbo of the Mumbo? Oh thats such a good combination!

What i went with is the idea that the two of them are assassins at a masquerade ball, and they are after a specific target of theirs, an aristocratic hunter that targets the supernatural like them. I'll explain some more under the cut

The night would begin as normal, Mumbo faking his role as a butler and Lizzie as a mystery aristocrat. Deeper into the night, Lizzie would have succesfully spread rumors of there being "A Vampire Butler" to catch the attention of the hunter, describing this butler to "Have a very fashionable mustache" and a "bat-like mask". After these rumors reach the man, he asks specifically for that butler to bring him a drink, a drink that lizzie had poisoned beforehand with a slow-acting poison so he'd be able to drink other things by the time it hit him. Once Mumbo had delivered the drink, and succesfully hid his vampirism, the two of them would quickly flee the scene before any of them would realize that the aristocrat had been poisoned.

With enough time between the aristocrat drinking the poison, and them actually dying, Mumbo and Lizzie would have enough time to frame whoever brought him a drink next, succesfully escaping.

The two of them would hunt the hunters that went after those like them, and sometimes meet up with other less than trustable people that could give them favors and the like in exchange for their services. If I could write I would also do something with the idea of the watchers being a weird cult, what if the people they went after were also avid followers, so Lizzie and Mumbo ended up catching the attention of the wrong type of deities for all the wrong reasons and ended up having to fight against them? (Not necessarily a flashy physical battle, maybe simply not succumbing to hallucinations or voices that these watchers give them and so on and so forth)

I really liked working with your prompts! I really wish I had the time to make a little comic or more than one piece of art or at least written a small snippet for it. But I really hope you enjoy it!

[thestorieswesay]

On Nikola Tesla (Sanctuary)

I have been very mentally ill lately and last night I was rambling on and on in the Whumptober discord about Nikola, my beloved, and I wanted to record these comments for posterity and the potential amusement of the larger fandom who are fond of this idiot.

Here we go:

"I call my other blorbo (the disaster-prone batshit alcoholic vampire nikola tesla) "a pathetic wet cat of a man" because it's true and I should say it"

"useless winemom vampire who wears a cravat in the year of our lord 2010 and gets his spine broken at least three times in canon. his actor has written and performed his own ballets and this character has the rizz of an eleven year old's shoe laces."

"Were they stolen from the president?" "oh he steals from the president" "The shoelaces tho?" "in canon he scams a government facility into letting him play with a rift in reality in an attempt to create a free and clean energy source and then there's a monster that eats people inside it and he's like 'god forbid vampires have hobbies' when his would-be girlfriend (that would never admit finds his lack of rizz endearing) is unhappy about the rift monster eating her adopted son"

"does he have the rizz of an 11 yo tumblr user /j" "this vampire nikola tesla probably HAS a tumblr called 'vampires-are-kewel69'"

"he writes manifestos about how cool vampires are and leaves them in his office files and intends to show it to no one he just does that because that's one of his hobbies - waxing about how cool vampires are (his other hobby is trying to turn ordinary people into vampires so he's not the only one left but this fails time and time again because he is pathetic)"

"ps he smiles like this (a doofer goof moron) when he tries to show vampire-experiments-a to would-be girlfriend who tells him to fuck off and he gets very frownyface about it and threatens to kill her but that's just because they didn't realize how great his character would be so his first appearance is extra evil mad scientist for zero reason and that characterization is later promptly ignored for crazy alcoholic rizzless failboat drama bitch instead"

"a normal day with nikola"

"nikola writes his nobel acceptance speech for shit he didn't even do a good job on" "he gets them stuck in a computer and killed at least twice and almost bodysnatched because he can't remember enough cuneiform and is rude to an AI ghost too many times" "this show is bonkers" "that's kinda fair tho" "I mean if I had to deal with an AI ghost of the guy I hated in college who was also a crimeboss murderer I would be unfriendly to that AI ghost too I suppose"

"nikola and helen spent time in egypt around 1917 and failed to find king tut's tomb (which nikola is very bitter about) and then they find a vampire tomb thing in the present day and he nearly gets murdered dead because he can't take off a bracelet fast enough and that is not even an exaggeration." "then he meets a new lady that he falls instantly in crush with and she throws him down a big hole and breaks his spine I love that for her"

"also he once had an absolutely stupid little mustache"

[arzen9]

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

Having defeated Cazador, Lamby and Astarion have a conversation back at the Elfsong.

Rating: M

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character

Tags: Trauma, Vampire Spawn Astarion, Vampire Ascendant Astarion, Canon Compliant, Nightmares, Spoilers, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Other Additional Tags to be Added

One Shot, 2.1k words

“That was unexpected, I think,” Shadowheart says. Lamby shoots her a look, but she doesn’t take the hint. “I didn’t think anyone, even you, could have talked him down from sacrificing those souls.”

“Give Fangs some credit,” Karlach chimes in, and Lamby is grateful for it. “I think he wouldn’t have done it, even alone.” She puffs up her chest proudly. Shadowheart purses her lips together in a straight line.

“Where is he, by the way?”

“Upstairs.”

While Lamby, Karlach, and Shadowheart sit at a table downstairs in the Elfsong, chosen for them by Lakrissa, Astarion is upstairs. He had made his way over shortly after they returned from the Szarr Palace and told Lamby he wanted to take a bath. She had buckets of hot water sent to the shared room and gave him space. Time.

Frankly, she didn’t know how to comfort him right now. She wanted to be next to him, but would he want that? Lamby trusted that he would tell her if he wanted her close, but then again, would he be able to considering everything that went down earlier that day?

“You’re brooding,” Shadowheart observes and takes a sip from her pint, a few sizes too big for her delicate hands. “It’s unbecoming of you.”

“She’s right,” Karlach says and licks along her upper lip to remove the foamy mustache her drink gave her. “It’s normal that you’re worried about him, but wouldn’t he tell us if he needed something?”

“I can’t be so sure,” Lamby mumbles to herself. Wyll and Lae’zel slowly make their way over to their table, looking a bit worse for wear. Everybody is tired. It is evident in the way they carry themselves, the clouding in their eyes.

But all Lamby can think about is how Astarion is feeling. Does he regret not going through with the ritual to ascend? Contrary to what Karlach said, would he have done it if he was left alone to his devices? Is it her fault that he will eventually have to return to the shadows, a vampire spawn till the end of time?

She needs to stop. This isn’t about her. If anything, she feels proud of Astarion. Faced with the worst fragments of his past, surrounded by all that he wanted nothing but to run away from, he stood in that horrible place filled with the smell of blood and the promise of deliciously corrupted power and chose a different path. Thinking about it makes Lamby’s heart swell with admiration for him. He has endured unimaginable horrors and yet never lost himself in the process. How can one not be fascinated by that?

She thinks back to the night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands she spent tied up, doing her absolute best to go against her urges that yearned to tear each perfect sliver of Astarion to pieces. How gently he looked after her. How he called her cute when she was slick with sweat, reduced to a growling, salivating creature. She knew she loved him then— when Sceleritas told her what would happen that night, she knew. She was in love with Astarion.

That much has not changed. Lamby doubts it ever will.

Wyll takes a deep breath as he sits down. “We did a good thing today.”

Lae’zel nods. “Astarion is free from the shackles of his master at last. Should he not be here to celebrate?”

Lamby looks at her hands facing the ceiling on her lap. She can feel the gaze of her companions on her scalp. What can she tell them?

“Maybe later,” she finally says. “Right now, he needs some rest, I’d wager.”

A lean tiefling with magenta hair tied in a sleek ponytail approaches their table and leans toward Lamby.

“He’s asking for you,” she whispers.

Lamby looks at her, surprised. He must have told someone through the dumbwaiter. “Thanks, Lakrissa.”

She gets up to her feet so fast that the table shakes, and she puts her hand on it in an attempt to stop the shaking. She offers a shy smile to the group and turns to make her way upstairs, her steps quick and deliberate.

She would have gone upstairs to check on him regardless, because unfortunately she is impatient, worried, and stubborn. But he called for her, and she is glad.

Lamby stands before the door to their shared quarters and straightens her back. Astarion should see her strong. She has no qualms about being vulnerable with him, but right now, she needs to be strong. For him.

She knocks before opening the door slightly. “Astarion?”

He doesn’t respond to her, but Lamby can see his back. He’s standing in front of the table beside their bed (their bed, Lamby flutters). He’s holding something, but she can’t see it.

She walks over to him slowly. Like approaching a wounded animal. He wouldn’t like it, if he knew. He doesn’t like it when she treats him as if he’s made of glass. But she means well. Hells, she means well.

“Lakrissa said you called for me.”

He doesn’t turn to face her, but Lamby sees the coil in his shoulders relax slightly. He lets go of a breath he doesn’t need to be holding.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything downstairs,” he says, and there is no hostility in his voice. No trace of teasing.

“Of course not,” Lamby says. “We wanted to give you time.”

“I have nothing but time, it seems.” He finally turns to face Lamby, and now she can see that he has been holding his shirt all this time, the ties on the front undone. His hands are shaking.

“Can I help you with that?” She knows it’s easier if she asks.

He nods and pulls the shirt over his head. Lamby walks over to him, closer, so that she can tie it for him. They look at each other for a moment. His beautiful eyes meet hers, those red orbs that never seem to lose their shine. She catches a whiff of his signature scent— rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. It makes her smile. It’s him, no matter what.

Lamby starts with the ties of his shirt, and she is sure Astarion can hear the thump of her heart. It tends to do that, whenever she is close to him. Doesn’t have anything to do with physical attraction or desire, nor her dark urges yearning for his crimson on her skin. It’s that warmth in her chest, the worry, the fear, the happiness. The hope.

While she’s busy with the ties, he gently places his chin on the top of her head. The gesture surprises Lamby for a moment, but she pushes forward.

He knows she wants to ask him how he is. He also knows that she’s only holding back because she knows him. Better than anyone, perhaps. She knows not to ask, because even he doesn’t know how to answer that question right now.

“All that I lost today. All that I gained,” he says into her hair. “It’s all too much.”

She finishes up with the ties. “For what it’s worth, Astarion, everyone is proud of you.”

He lifts his head to look at her. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Are you proud of me?”

“What matters to me is that you’re happy with the decision you made.” She holds her ground. If nothing else, Lamby wants him to feel confident in his choice. Back at the ritual, when their tadpoles connected, all she saw was his infatuation with the idea of power, the ability to protect himself, and her. She wants him to know that he doesn’t need anything but to be Astarion.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he says with a subtle scoff. He sits down on the edge of the bed and looks at Lamby. “How… How are you?”

She keeps standing right where she was. “I’m not entirely sure.” It is an honest answer. “Worried about you, for one thing.”

“That much is obvious from your face, darling.”

“It never was my strong suit to hide my emotions.”

“No,” he agrees. “No, it wasn’t.”

With a sigh, he plops down on the bed, legs still dangling off the side. Lamby looks around the room, unsure if she should leave him alone.

“Can you come lay with me for a while?”

Only then does Lamby realize she’s still wearing her armor, still covered in blood and dirt from their fight with Cazador.

They can always request clean linens, though.

She removes the outer layer of her armor and leaves it on the floor before lying down next to Astarion. She rests her head on her right arm to look at him, and he turns with his whole body to match her gaze. He looks ethereal like this, hair still damp, the sun shining through his silver curls let in by the window right behind.

“Would you have let me go through with the ritual? If I had insisted, in the end.”

It’s not an easy question. “It wasn’t my choice to make,” she says. “In the end.”

“The others think you talked me down, don’t they?”

Lamby averts her gaze for a moment to look up at the ceiling. “Shadowheart certainly does.”

“Maybe she’s right,” he mirrors her, joining her in gazing up at the ceiling. “You remind me that I have a soul.”

“You do have a soul,” she assures. “A beautiful one.”

“I’ll take your word for it, little lamb.”

“I believe that you made the right decision, Astarion,” she says, looking back at him. “You chose the more difficult path, yes, but so what? Once the brain is dealt with, we can look for a way for you to walk in the sun again. Magic is a dime a dozen. There must be a way.”

“We?”

Lamby searches his handsome, tired face. He genuinely looks surprised.

“You know what I want.”

“A life in the shadows,” he says. “For me?”

“Do you remember what I told you, after we got rid of that orthon?”

He does but lets her continue anyway.

“I can spend eternity just sitting with you. Nothing else needed.”

“Spoken like a true lovesick fool,” he tries to conceal his smile.

“You know what I am,” she says, and he considers what she might mean. Bhaalspawn? Fearless leader? Ridiculous do-gooder? Ferocious fighter with the heart of a kitten just fed?

No. Something else. She reaches out to him, slowly. Asking, assessing. He appreciates and hates it at the same time. She shouldn’t need to ask for permission. But all that he has been through in the past two centuries, it’s… It doesn’t just go away, now that Cazador’s dead. But she’s right. Astarion can be better than him.

“Little lamb,” he says and meets her touch halfway, tangling his fingers with hers.

“No,” she smiles. “Take another guess?”

He brings her hand up to his lips, smiles between them. She’s wearing the ring they found by the House of Healing still, just like he’s still wearing his. “Mine,” he whispers.

“Yes, “she says. “Yours.”

“I guess it’s not a bad bargain,” he jokes, and she swats at his arm with her free hand. They giggle together.

And they both know— they will be okay.

Astarion can hear how her heart beats. A steady rhythm, a pattern exclusively formed for him. Her smell, lactonic and innocent under the dried blood of his tormentor. She is consistent in her contrasts. Bhaal’s own flesh and blood that promises to do good, with a touch so gentle you’d never expect the same hand to deliver a killing blow. Her curious whimsy when she finds something small and shiny. The divine reverence she kisses him with. The sharpness of her words, the sweetness of her blood.

She has given everything to him. Shared. A partner— an equal.

He will do anything to not lose that.

“Maybe we should join our friends for a bit,” Astarion says, his lips still pressed against her slender fingers. “Won’t do to deprive them of our presence too long, don’t you think?”

“Are you sure?” Lamby asks, voice laced with concern.

“I’ve wallowed enough to last me a lifetime. Besides, a little wine for both of us might be a good idea.”

She smiles at him, and there it goes again— that warm, gripping feeling that makes him feel alive. He is starting to understand what it might be.

“Oh,” he starts as they get up. “There’s something I want to show you tonight, if that’s alright. It’s not far.”

Lamby nods. She would follow him anywhere, and he knows it.

He must tell her. The feelings that he never thought he could feel. That radiant warmth of hope. Rebirth.

He would follow her anywhere, and she needs to know it.

[babiebom]

When You Fall(ii)

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter, this story is going to be angst filled, at least for the first several chapters. 

Previous Next Masterlist

TW: depression, talks of self harm, clinics

WC:2.9k

The smell of bleach burns your nose before you fully come to. Your vision is hazy around the edges, eyes burning due to the bright lights above you. You flutter your eyelashes, sitting up quickly, ignoring the pain in your limbs. 

There are other beds around you, all empty and neatly made up. You breathe in deeply through your mouth, unable to call out like you want to, the burning sensation in your throat making any sound hurts it. 

You hear the soft squeaking of hinges, only able to see the corner of a door swinging open. A man appears from the doorway, his eyes warm and lips covered by the bushy mustache that sat below his nose. You stared with your mouth agape, the scene somewhat reminding you of that one scene in a vampire movie you hadn't seen in a while. 

Though, the man was obviously human, face slightly red near his cheeks as if he wasn't expecting you to be awake yet. "Farmer! You're awake! I'm glad. His smile sent butterflies in your stomach, and the fact that he was in a doctor's coat made your decisions seem extra stupid, because now you look like a fool in front of who you assume is town doctor, though it being a small town he's probably not even a real one.

"Yeah…what happened?" You hoped if you feigned confusion that it would seem like one big accident, you were farming for the very first time after all.

"Someone found you passed out on your farm."

"Someone did?" You wonder what anyone could've been doing on your farm, but then again these were country folk who probably stopped by to introduce themselves and scope you out. 

"Yeah, and I have to say you're very lucky she-" he coughs to cover up his mistake, "-they did. If they had found you any later you might've not made it." His kind eyes held some disappointment and worry in them.

You grimace in your seat, swinging your legs over the edge, the need to escape flooding your senses. "I'll be more careful, promise."

"Good," the man sucks in a breath, now looking elsewhere as he begins to back out of the room. "I'm going to send in the nurse with medicine to help you heal quicker."

You nod, letting your feet dangle above the ground, attempting to shoot the man a smile. As soon as he exited the room, you let your shoulders fall, exhausted from...well exhausting yourself. It was as if the choice you made was purposefully making itself worse than it normally would've been. As if it was making a point against you doing something stupid again, though you know you would still self sabotage again. Forcing yourself to pass out didn't really help anything, if anything it made you feel even shittier. You could feel the gazes of your now deceased family members on your head, all looking at you in disappointment and worry. 

As soon as you began to drown in your thoughts, the door swung open again, less gently than last time, almost smacking the wall behind it. Taken aback, you wonder how this person became a nurse, and the second you see her the thought is only amplified. 

The woman that enters is pretty, but more in a soft and unassuming kind of way, like you had to be seeing her for her beauty to reveal itself. She's also very young, she looks as if she's your age or even younger. Definitely not old enough to have a degree in the medical field, at least with how long you're assuming a nursing degree takes. 

She bites her lip and frowns, looking back at the door before entering the rest of the way. She clears her throat, shuffling over to you silently. "So, um, Doctor Harvey is prescribing you some Tylenol and an energy tonic. We have both here so you won't need to buy them, he's giving you them for free this time."

You nod, relieved that the medicine was free and you wouldn't have to pay for it. You lost your medical insurance after quitting the Joja job. Taking the medicine from her hands, you immediately down the energy tonic, the taste slightly sour on your tongue. Immediately you feel rejuvenated, your body returning to a state that you hadn't felt in years. You roll your shoulders back, blinking rapidly to get used to the feeling of being perfectly rested. You still felt shitty emotionally, but at least that wasn't bogged down by being half dead from working and not getting enough sleep.

"Wow, ok." You speak in surprise, the woman smiles brightly at you, unsurprised. 

"Yeah! Works pretty well huh?"  

"Totally," you slide off of the bed, not even stumbling. That tonic makes you feel as good as new, and you fight the urge to buy a million to keep in your house. 

She rocks on her heels, looking around before her eyes settle on you. She looked so giddy, as if she had been waiting to say something. "If you ever feel tired or like passing out again don't hesitate to stop by!" Her eyes look like mini crescent moons as she smiles at you, lighting up the room. 

"Will do." She leads you out of the room and towards what you assume is the lobby. 

"I'm Maru, by the way," she turns to look at you as she begins to talk, you nod in response, "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you can almost see the excitement roll off of her in waves, "you know, with a small town like this, a new face can really alter the community dynamic. It's exciting!" 

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, now embarrassed that this is her first impression of you. Grimace at her, trying to come up with something to say to make the situation less awkward on your end. "Some impression huh?"

She shrugs, still looking at you warmly. You both stop right before the doors where you now know the lobby is, being able to see through the small window on the door. "I mean, you're grieving. I think it's to be expected of someone that's lost so much in so little time. Along with moving, it's no surprise that you ran out of steam."

"You know about…" you can't even bring up the deaths without getting choked up. Maru looks shocked and horrified at the situation, her face contorting in surprise.

"I- oh god, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have brought it up. It was insensitive of me. Crap." She bites her lip awkwardly and now hurries to get you through the doors. You want to ask again how'd she know, so that's exactly what you do. Ask again, but also skirt around certain words. Did everyone know?

"Um, well," she closes her eyes, breathing out, "I mean, everyone knows. Your grandfather was loved here, and when he…everyone was sad. Then the um, graves popped up and we put two and two together…I'm super sorry if I hurt your feelings or anything. I swear it wasn't my intention."

You shake your head, now preoccupied with the thought of everyone knowing, whispering, talking about your parents and grandfather, about you before you even had the chance to meet them all. You wonder why Maru even wanted to meet you. Was it pity? Pure curiosity? Did everyone pity you? Did everyone want to meet you in ways that were similar to meeting a baby lion or something at the zoo? As if you were a stray dog on the verge of being put down at a kennel? 

Wrapped up in your thoughts, you finally leave the clinic, going by distant memories to get back home. There was no need to sleep now, though with the storm inside of your head the mental exhaustion had come back. Within those thoughts, you wondered how long it was until they all went away.

As soon as you got home you had to leave.

You had gotten a letter, from someone named Willy, down at the beach. So, instead of pushing yourself to the brink of death again you decide to meet him, doubting anyone in the valley could be dangerous. There were only so many people that lived here to begin with, and even if he did turn out to be dangerous or deranged, you doubted that at this moment you would put up any sort of fight. 

The walk was long, about 30 minutes from your farm to the entrance of the beach, your breaths were coming out in puffs, your chest heaving. You would need to exercise more if you were to do this often enough to make any money. Sitting at a desk all day made your stamina nonexistent, and you regretted not visiting more often in your older years. Maybe if you did you would be less tired. 

As soon as you saw the fish shop you sighed with relief, sweat had begun forming a thin sheet over your body. Your steps picked up as you approached the building that looked as old as your farmhouse, the salty smell of the ocean assaulting your nose. The sun was high overhead now, beaming directly down onto the sea making the world around you brighter. 

Hurrying, you almost head straight to the doors, wanting to escape the sun; but instead you see a man at the edge of the pier, a patchy brown hat on top of messy brown hair. He was smoking silently, eyes focused on the water below. The sound of your footsteps seemed louder than normal in your ears, the thuds echoed around you disturbing the serenity of the beach. The man turns when he hears you, tired eyes searching yours for a second before he speaks.

"Ahoy there. Heard there was a newcomer in town…good to finally meet ya." The man sounds like a stereotypical fisherman, maybe a little like a pirate. He puts out his pipe after puffing it once more, blowing the smoke away from the both of you. He rolls his shoulders, a small grimace settling over his face.

"Ah…I'm still tryin' to unwind from a month out on the salty seas… it was a big haul! I sold a lot of good fish. Finally saved enough to buy me a new rod." He smiles softly. 

"That's good…" you don't know how to respond, so you say what first came to your mind, wanting to not make the conversation stale, though you think your attempt didn't help at all. Willy moves closer to you, away from the edge of the pier. 

"Here," he hands you a fishing rod, the gift unfamiliar in your hands, "I want you to have my old fishing rod. It's important to me that the art o' fishing stays alive. And hey, maybe you'll buy somethin' from the shop once in a while."

You nod, inspecting the rod, tears kissing the corner of your eyes. It was kind of him to give you a rod for free, you didn't know how much they cost, but even an old one like this had to be expensive. "There's a good water here in the valley. All kinds o' fish."

"Thank you…I don't know how to repay you or…?"

The man shakes his head, waving you off. When you get in front of the doors to his shop, he calls out to you again. "Oh yeah. My shops back open now, so come by if you need supplies. I'll also buy anything you catch. 'If it smells, it sells'."

You can see how brightly his eyes shine when he laughs from where you are. It makes your heart ache, he was so much like a grandfather in his actions that it made you somewhat sad. "That's what my ol' Pappy used to say anyway."

You smile at him before nodding and taking off towards the beach again, ready to flop into your still unslept in bed. 

The walk home was faster, mostly because you avoided everyone and sped through the town. You could feel them looking at you, as if you were something to gawk at. And to them, you supposed you were. A fresh face in a stagnant town that rarely got new people that were staying for the long haul, a visitor that was passing through or two, but never a new resident. By the time you got home, mostly due to your dodging, your chest felt heavy and your lungs burned. You sucked in breaths as you closed the gate and walked up to your cottage. 

Now that you were inside, and not in a self sabotaging mood, you took the time to really look around. The place was practically empty, no kitchen, no living room, no bathroom. All there was was an ancient television and a twin sized bed pushed into a corner along with dusty decorations. You groaned, running a hand down your face, so this is what Robin meant when she was saying your home needed an upgrade. You now understood what she meant by crusty. 

It was a surprise your grandfather had survived as long as he did living here, what did he do to eat? How'd he take showers or poop or just live in general. Turning on the tv, you frown when you notice only a handful of channels on the tv, some of them only showing static when you switched to it. Laughing in disbelief, you turn away from the stupid thing. It was going to take a long time to get used to this.

In the middle of the room, you spot a box you had ignored before, the thing wrapped up half heartedly as a gift. Taking off the top and looking inside, you spot a small bag of seeds. There was a short letter from Lewis attached to the bag, saying it was a gift for you to get started with your farming. Obviously, you need to be able to grow a plant and care for animals to be a farmer. Sighing, you trudge outside, dragging your tools behind you. You had to do this at least, before you went to sleep for the next couple of hours. 

The farm was still messy, and over exerting yourself the day before just set you back. So, pulling your pants up and adjusting yourself, you get to work to catch up for missed time. 

Pulling weeds, cutting down trees, and smacking rocks with your pickaxe seemed to make you feel better, as if you were beating something up. Maybe a little violent, but it was helping nonetheless. Sweat drips down your forehead, thinking back to your childhood your grandfather and grandmother made this seem easier than it actually was. Even just planting the parsnips took more energy than you thought it would. 

By the time you had finished, your back ached and your stomach was growling. Raising your wrist to look at the time, you wonder if 12 was too early to go to bed. Your thoughts swirl around your head, trying to justify if you went to rest now. You tried telling yourself that you would only nap, then it devolved into thinking you could sleep for the rest of the day and all night until you had to get up in the morning; it was most likely unrealistic but the ache in your back told you to go ahead and do whatever as long as you got to sleep. 

You drag yourself inside after making sure your crops are watered, your stomach still growling loudly. Opening a suitcase, you sigh with relief that past you decided that packing your snacks and some things from your pantry was a good idea. You eat some peanut butter on crackers and take a long swig from a water bottle, throwing yourself on your bed after making sure your mess was cleaned and the rest of your crackers and peanut butter were sealed back in your suitcase. 

As you lie there, you inspect your skin. You had already begun to tan by staying out in the sun all day, and you wondered just how hot the summer was going to be if you were already dying in the sun. Maybe the clinic had some sunscreen, you had already met Maru, and doctor Harvey so going back wasn't as bad as going to the grocery store in town.

You made a mental list of all the tasks you needed to do, hoping you could put off talking to people for a little longer. All they would probably do is talk about your grandfather or look at you with pity and curiosity the entirety of your conversation. 

As you adjusted yourself to try and sleep, you imagined yourself back in your apartment in Zuzu City. You imagined life hadn't changed and you were living your old life, but in your imagination you were a much better child and grandchild than you had been in real life. You visited and were bubbly and cheery just as you were as a kid. As your eyes flutter closed, and you begin to drift off to sleep you can feel fresh, hot tears rolling down your cheeks regret settling in your chest as you begin the transition between your active daydreams to whatever dream you would have while you were sleeping. 

In the back of your mind, you just hoped the dream wouldn't be nightmares instead.

[no-other-mashter]

Sanguine Osculum

Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.

CHAPTER 2

Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.

Daniel looked just as concerned to see you as he did the first time. Sam assured you that’s just how Danny always looks, and that he’s “just a nervous fellow sometimes,” and it made you feel a little better about surprising him like this. He was nice, though, and after he relaxed, the two of you got along well.

He told you more about his life before this. How he grew up alongside the Kiszka family, and was pretty much one of the family. Like a brother, is how Sam had put it. Just like Sam, he was vague on why or how they were turned, but spoke of it in the same negative way as Sam had.

“Sometimes I wish our family had been turned with us, but other times I’m glad they don’t have to live like us,” He said, his gaze lowered, “I, uh, had a sister. Sam and the twins did too.”

They left it at that, not wanting to drag out old memories they’d spent years burying. The topic soon switched to yourself, your family, and what was going on in the world. They hadn’t had a proper visitor in at least 10 years or so, and always made sure to stay away from the city that wasn’t far from them, so they were quite curious about the world.

About an hour into your conversation, there was a light knock on the door, and another young man stepped into the room. He was just as pretty as the others, but his hair was short and curly, reminding you of a dandelion before it gets blown away by the wind. He had the same amber-brown eyes as his brothers, a well groomed mustache and goatee, and a wide smile with too-sharp teeth. What caught your attention most was his outfit, though.

He wore a soft looking, red crushed velvet jumpsuit. It dipped down into a V at the front, ending at about the middle of his chest. The edges of the neckline were embroidered with beautiful stones that glimmered in the light. It was sleeveless and skin-tight, with a bishop cuff at the ankles that all gave it a flattering look on him.

“Why hello, you must be the guest I’ve heard so much about! It’s lovely to meet you, dear. My name is Joshua, but please, call me Josh,” His voice was similar to Jake’s, just a bit smoother and softer. You recalled Sam and Danny saying “the twins”, putting two and two together to assume they meant him and Jake. Josh held out his hand, and you took it.

Josh smiled and brought your hand up to press a kiss to the back of it as you introduced yourself, “What a lovely name, dear. I hope we’ve been sufficient enough hosts for you. We don’t normally get visitors anymore…”

Josh was the oldest of all the boys, and thus became their leader of sorts after being turned. He seemed far less wary around you, going as far as telling you he hopes you’ll stick around longer than their previous guests all had. After a while, you decide to ask about Jake.

“Jake is… he’s had a lot of bad things happen because of him interacting with the ah… normal population. It’s left him with a bit of a distrust of others that he hasn’t been able to work through. I hope you understand. He’s a kind man, he just needs time,” Josh explains, while the others nod. They all assure you that Jake is no threat, but you’re still hesitant to believe that fully after he threatened to gut you.

The three of you talked for what felt like hours, until the sun was beginning to set. They stood, turning to you.

“Ah, it’s probably about time for you to leave. You can’t hang around here come nighttime,” Josh said, leading you out of the room. Danny stayed behind, waving, while Sam followed you both.

“Why not?” You asked, and Sam responded.

“It’s when we go out to feed. Having a human around might be… tempting. It’s best to avoid any temptation at all than to risk it,” He smiled and opened the door for you, slowly reaching out to hold your hand and press a kiss to it like Josh had done, “I do hope to see you soon, though. Will I?”

You thought about it. You should leave and never come back. If not for your safety, then for your sanity. They were supposedly real life vampires, who could kill you if they wanted to. But… something about them kept you wanting to come back. So, you nodded and smiled back.

“Of course you will.”

You only got a short distance away from the manor before something dropped down from a tree, landing in front of you. It was Jake, who stood there and stared you down. You felt fear bubble up in your chest, unsure of why he followed you out here.

“Hello… um…”

“What do you want with my family? Why do you keep hanging around?” He asked, his jaw set in an unreadable expression.

“I just… I don’t know. I guess curiosity? I enjoyed talking to your brothers, and we have a surprising amount of things in common-“

He growled and stepped close, his hand on your wrist, “We have NOTHING in common. We are nothing like you, and you are nothing like us. The sooner you understand that and leave us alone, the better off you’ll be, and the less likely it’ll be that I leave your body in a ditch somewhere.”

He let go of your wrist and you stepped back, your heart pounding and the sound of blood rushing in your ears blocking everything else. You took a deep breath and kept your voice as steady as possible as you spoke.

“I promise I mean no harm to any of you… and despite how you feel, it was nice to meet you.”

He didn’t say anything as you walked past him to get to your car and head home.

————

You couldn’t come back for a few days, work and other life responsibilities getting in the way, so instead you did some researching into the Kiszka and Wagner families that lived there. Not much was recorded in history, especially once it got to the time they were alive for, but you did find the names of their families. They did both have sisters, one named Veronica and the other named Josie, plus their parents and some extended family. The only records that exist of them are birth and death records, stating they all died of an illness around the same time.

As you know, though, four of them didn’t technically die. Or did they? Are vampires technically still alive or are they dead? Are they something in between? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

When you finally were able to go back, about a week had passed. You pulled your car up early in the morning and made your way down the path you had taken the last two times, the manor eventually coming into view. It was a nice summer day today, a nice breeze blowing through without it being too chilly out. You wore a loose T-shirt and jeans, with your regular hiking shoes on to help when heading back and forth through the wooded area.

You raised your hand to knock, just as you had the last two times you had been here, but jumped when the door swung open instead.

“Darling! I knew you’d be back!” Sam grinned, his pointed teeth glinting in the light as he pulled you inside, “I was worried we had scared you off for good…” He was smiling, but you could hear the genuine worry in his voice.

“I just had work and other life stuff to take care of, Sam. You haven’t chased me away yet,” You say with a chuckle. You caught sight of Jake on the second floor landing, frowning down at you. He turned and stalked away, towards the music room.

Sam turns to lead you up the stairs, presumably to where Danny was, but you stopped him, “Hey, um… maybe I should stay down here for today. Jake still seems pretty upset about me hanging around…”

His smile faltered, but he quickly fixed it, turning to face you, “He won’t do anything to you, I promise. But… if you wish to stay down here, then that’s alright.”

“I’d like that,” You say, “Plus, there are some things I’d like to ask you about.”

The both of you head into the sitting room with the large fireplace, Sam offering you a seat before sitting on the couch opposite to you.

“Well… Ask away I suppose!”

“So… does sunlight kill you? Do stakes and garlic? Holy water and crosses? Just how accurate are all the legends?”

Sam was a bit surprised by your question, chuckling a bit, “Well, um… sunlight doesn’t kill us, but it does burn like hell. As far as I know garlic, crosses, and holy water don’t do anything to us. And I assume anyone would die if you staked them, so… I guess that one still applies?”

“When you feed, do you have to drink all of the blood? And how long do you have between feeding?”

“It depends. We go out about every night to feed. If we fed on, ahem… larger things, it would last longer. And no, we don’t HAVE to completely drink all of it, but it’s hard to stop sometimes.”

Suddenly, a thought popped into your head. Sam said he’d never fed from a human, none of them have. What would it feel like to be bitten, to have your blood drank? Would it hurt? Would it feel numb? You know you shouldn’t ask, but…

“If I offered you some of my blood, would you drink it?”

At this question, Sam jumped up, stepping back, “Woah, what? What on Earth would you do that for!?”

You shrugged, “I’m curious. How many other people would be able to say they know what it feels like for a vampire to bite them?”

“That’s not a good reason, Darling! Did you not just hear me say that sometimes it’s hard to stop ourselves when feeding? What if I weren’t able to stop and drained you completely?” He asked, throwing his arms up, concerned by your words.

“I trust you,” You said plainly.

“You’ve known me for about 3 days. You can’t trust someone you’ve just met!”

You sighed and dropped the issue, knowing he was right, “Sorry, you’re right Sam.”

He relaxed, and you listened as he began telling you something about the house. Maybe he was right, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still curious. You’ll continue this line of questioning another day, you figured.

For now, you sat back and enjoyed your friend’s company.

————

When you left, Jake was waiting for you again, this time peeking into your car.

“Is this what automobiles look like now? The last time I saw one, they were more like a motorized carriage, not a weird, boxy hunk of metal. Why are the wheels so big?” He asked, causing you to chuckle. He frowned at you, “Don’t laugh at me, I’ll bite you.”

“I’m not laughing at you, Jake. I just forget sometimes that you all haven’t seen a lot of modern things,” You reassured him.

“And I’m fine with that. Most of your modern things aren’t any good. Minus some of your music, though I haven’t really heard modern music past… what do they call it…? The 90s?”

An idea popped into your head of how to get Jake to warm up to you quicker.

“Hey, how about i go ahead and bring some music here next time? Modern stuff, so you can find what you like?”

He’s quiet for a moment before shrugging and mumbling out a, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” before turning and heading back up to the manor.

Well, it’s the first conversation you’ve had with him that didn’t end in a threat, so you took it as a step forward. When you got back home, you created a playlist with as many songs as you could think of to show Jake the next time you came over, hoping this would finally be what got him to relax around you.

————

Jake really liked music, you learned. He was fascinated with the intricate solos and heavy beats of rock and metal, the deep and rhythmic sounds of blues, and even nodded his head to a couple pop songs. Really, all four of them were drawn to the music, all having their own tastes yet all being fairly similar when it came to certain genres.

And of course, they were interested in your phone. They’d had seen phones before, from people who’d come poking around in the past, but never had much of a chance to play around with one. You decided to bring things by for them to learn about with each visit, quickly looking forward to talking with them a few times a week. Even Jake warmed up to you quite a bit, far less hostile than he had been the first few meetings.

Josh enjoyed your company, not being as wary as Jake, but not quite as open as Sam was. The eldest Kiszka was quite the charmer, though he assured you his interests were completely platonic. He was the most knowledgeable of modern things, having slipped into the city nearby on occasion on a whim. He mentioned seeing a man in a fabulous jumpsuit once in the 70s, and he was obsessed with them, to the point he began making his own. In your opinion, he was quite talented at sewing, his own clothes being well-made and fitting him perfectly.

Danny was much less nervous having you around than at first, quickly enjoying talking with you about different topics. In particular, he seemed to like sports, golf specifically. He reminded you of your friend Dave, and the thought made you laugh. They’d get along great if they ever met.

And then there was Sam. Sam was different than the others, being desperate for interaction. In his own words, he’d been trapped in this house with no one else for far too long, and the days had begun running together a good hundred years ago. He loved piano, you had noticed, and was highly skilled. He’d play for you every time, his eyes shut as he just felt the music through his whole body.

Weeks passed by as you learned more and more about the four of them. The end of fall grew near, winter closing in with each day that passed. It was around this time that you began seeing things in shops around the city that reminded you of them, and an idea popped into your head. What better to signify your new friendships, than heartfelt gifts?

Yes, this would be perfect.

[rinriya]

Some thoughts about Cazador. Ever since early access, I call him "Cazagoat" (don't judge me, he is an ass and it suits him really well, especially given that during EA he had extremely funny mustache).

But even such an evil evil asshole made me think what would've happened if he met at the right time at least someone as kind and care as the MC (if you play a good MC of course).

Because, if you think about it Cazador's fate is no less sad and tragic. I even think he was.. normal before becoming a full-fledged vampire lord. You can find out his story. And he had to endure a lot of pain from his master. It was a vicious circle and that's one more reason why Stari has to break the circle and resist the temptation.

So, it's safe to say that Astarion was truly lucky to meet good MC.

[lacrymatoryao3]

Bloedzuiger

Dutch Van der Linde/GN!Reader

Dutch Van der Linde is a vampire who crashes your family's party and targets you as his next victim.

#### 1,715 Words (AO3 Link)

You weren’t in the habit letting strangers into your home. You knew the risks of that from living in such a violent town full of cowboys, miners, and outlaws in equal measure. But on that evening your family was hosting a party. So when a knock came from the front door, you thought nothing of it. The man who stood in front of you looked familiar enough to you. Perhaps a distant relative you only saw one or twice in your life, or someone who lived in the area that your family was cordial with.

He introduced himself as a Mr. ‘Dutch’ Van der Linde. He took your hand in his with two gold rings on his fingers. On his pinky a circular one with the face of a lion that had two small rubies for eyes. On his middle was a larger rectangular signet ring with a gold D in black enamel in a Gothic font. He pressed his thin and abnormally cool lips to your top palm. His facial hair tickled your flesh, a black and well groomed mustache and an unshaven patch just above his chin.

He gave an odd energy. It was alluring, yet your deepest instincts shivered. Despite it, you were drawn to him. He was an older gentleman, but not elderly. Somewhere in his 40s, if you had to guess. He was quite tall and slender, but something told you he held incredible strength if the circumstances called for it.. His black hair was long, swept behind his ears and reached down to his neck. It was mostly straight, except with thick and loose curls at the ends. His almond shaped and wide set eyes were also dark. In the mixture of night outside and the kerosene fed lighting inside, they almost glowed like amber. Even stranger, they were piercing. As he gazed at you, it felt like he was reading your very thoughts and it only further fascinated you. It kept you looking upon his angular face, with high cheekbones that had a noticeable mole on the right one and a large well shaped nose.

His fine clothing was also dark. He had on a black velvet, wide lapel frock coat that made his figure striking. The lining of it a deep red silk, in the pocket was a well folded handkerchief that corresponded with it. His vest was also velvet and red, with gold buttons and a matching single watch chain suspended from one of them. His pants were black, the usual cut that men wore though a bit tighter than what was normal, covering his black leather boots.

It was only a brief moment that felt like hours. You welcomed him in. When he stepped over the threshold you felt and icy breeze. You led him into the large parlor where everyone else was. You offered him a drink, but he refused. He excused himself by explaining he doesn’t partake in alcohol. He wasn’t much interested in the table of canapes either, but he did help himself to a cigar.

You excused yourself to allow Dutch to mingle with the other guests. It was difficult to do so, like something had possessed you to desire to only want his attention in return for yours. You didn’t stray far. As he wandered around and chatted, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You weren’t the only one, except in the eyes of your families and partygoers there was a glimmer of deep unease when they were near him.

It was a short time later he returned to you. He found you sitting quietly in the corner with a glass of wine. His warm smile and gentle gaze intoxicated you more than spirit you were sipping ever could. He leaned over you playfully, the shadow of his form enveloped you and made you dizzy. His voice was more stimulating than the music playing over the phonograph.

Dutch extended his hand to you, “Would you care to dance with me?”

“Of course!” You replied, exhilarated by the offer.

Standing up, the both of you went to an empty spot in the room. He quickly swept you close to him, resting one hand on your lower back and taking one of your hands into his ringed one. Like his lips, they were abnormally cold. His firm hold that made your heart race, to the point you couldn’t feel his at all. It was as if he took control of your body as you twirled almost inhumanly around the floor. The people around side eyed the two of you nervously, but you didn’t care. Nor did you have any concern when you caught a glimpse of yourself – and only yourself – in a large mirror on the wall. He seemed completely absent.

You spent the rest of the evening in his company until it became late into the night when people began to leave. You felt so high, so alive, it was almost unbearable to think of parting with him. If it had not been scandalous, you would have begged him to stay. As you saw him to the door, it felt like he could sense it.

“Don’t worry,” Dutch said soothingly, “I’m sure we will see each other again.”

You deeply hoped that would be true.

When you crawled into your bed after everything was cleaned up and settled, you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely. What manner of a man, this Dutch Van der Linde, made you long for him so? What about him made you want? To throw away all propriety? To risk your reputation? You felt like you were missing a part of you, withdrawing from the strongest drug.

You turned onto your side, taking one of your pillows and holding onto it. You pretended it was him. Lying beside you, holding you in his arms, speaking all those pretty little things he did during the party. His voice soothing you into sleep.

In between the realm of slumber and wakefulness you started to hear something strange at your window. At first you ignored it, thinking it was a lucid dream. It became more insistent and demanding. It sounded like tapping against the glass. You sat up, trying to figure out what it could be. It wasn’t a tree branch, the elms and oaks weren’t close enough to the house. It persisted until you finally got up to investigate. You pulled the curtains back, flooding yourself and the room in bright moonlight. You lifted the lower pane of you window and stuck your head out. You couldn’t see anything when you looked around, except a blanket of mist on the lawn.

It moved with an intelligence you had never seen, one that hypnotized you. It crawled along the grass and up the outer wall of the house. It poured through the window and surrounded you in a cold embrace you welcomed. It felt like someone was taking hold of your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you backward to your bed.

You sat down and laid back obediently. In the mist, there were little flecks of dust. They whirled around in front of you, taking on a human shape as they danced quicker and gathered together. At first he was just a phantom, then materialized was the man who had become the object of your desire. It didn’t disturb your sense of soothing calm. You just stared at him with half closed eyes.

Dutch was sitting at the edge of your bed hovering over you. He looked just the same was earlier, except his eyes glowed more intensely and he changed his clothes to a brocaded black vest with a red back panel. The watch chain suspended from the button had a red gem suspended from it. He caressed your cheek with his fingertips. They then trailed down your face to the left side of your neck. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasurable and repulsive at the same time. You gasped, your head tilting over to give him better access to the delicate flesh. He leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on your skin, causing it to tickle in an unfamiliar way.

“Yes, yes, just relax…” Dutch whispered in your ear, opening the collar of your nightclothes and pulling it away from your body, “Don’t you worry. I only take what I need.”

His tongue darted out of his mouth. He pressed it against your shoulder and slowly dragged it along where your jugular vein was hidden beneath the surface. He stopped halfway when he found a particularly sensitive spot that made you groan under the pressure. He let out a low chuckle.

You could only pant when his lips latched onto that area of your neck, then the tips of two sharp eye teeth. Then you felt them pierce you. Your eyes widened as an unbearable and stinging pain tore through your body. It slowly dissipated, being replaced by a tranquillizingly warm numbness. You felt a hot wetness from the wounds he created, which he sucked and licked up with satisfied sighs.

He was drawing large amounts of blood, at least from your point of view. Even if you wanted to stop him, you couldn’t. The moment he bit you he controlled you. He owned you. He now knew every little thing about you. Your hopes, your fears. Your thoughts and desires. Your personality was bared before him as he drank.

Time seemed to slow. It felt like the entire night went by in your stupor, until he finally had his fill. He closed the wounds and lifted his head. You finally saw the face of a human man, a mask hiding the creature underneath. You could see the stains of your blood on his lips.

“You are a delight.” Dutch said, “I will make a visit to you again.”

He kissed your forehead and stood, leaving out of the window from where he came. You closed your heavy eyes. Weak and light headed, you fell into a deep and dreamless unconsciousness.

In the morning at breakfast your family noticed your paleness and how frail you seemed. They wanted to call for a doctor, which you refused. You would become strong again in time. When you did, you hoped Dutch would keep his promise.

[marshmalleaux-queen]

Animal Crossing villager species idea: BATS!!

Originally I only had the idea for one bat villager (Enya), who is supposed to be kinda like my animal villager sona. But then I figured I'd make more because I love bats and also because why not??

Like Frog villagers not wearing hats or coats in the rain, Bat villagers always wear hats if they're outside during the daytime. They also tend to stay up later at night!

Most of them are based on certain bat species and have one of the basic personality types (and I could only think of hobbies for a few of them kjdfg)

Enya - Based on various fruit bats. Since she's my sona, she doesn't fit any of the basic personality types, but if she did, she'd be Normal. Nyx - Evening bat, Snooty Nocturne - Mustached bat, Smug (+ music hobby) Harpy - Harpy fruit bat, Sisterly (+ fitness hobby) Hue - Painted bat, Lazy (+ play hobby) Vlad - Vampire bat, Cranky Goyle - Gargoyle, Jock Crystal - Clear-winged wooly bat, Peppy

[razzafrazzle]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let them into your town they'll be so normal i promise (lying)

[image description: three original characters, pam, rowan, and scarlette, drawn as if they were animal crossing villagers. pam is an off-white, tired looking budgie villager with glasses, a mole, a striped cardigan with a blue sweater underneath, and an evil eye necklace. she is stated as being a cranky villager with the catchphrase "eugh". rowan is an purple hawk villager with yellow-tinted glasses, a large orange bowtie, and a red vest. he is stated as being a smug villager with the catchphrase "mortis". finally, scarlette is an black vampire bat villager with a mustache and goatee, yellow cat-like eyes, small wings, and a frilly white top with a red skirt. she is stated as being a snooty villager with the catchphrase "sangue". end id]

[the-plagueis-crew]

My first draft for my "Cold, selfish bastard muse", kinda Rant-ey.

So he's a Mindflayer, and technically, Mindflayers don't have biological sexes or genitalia since they reproduce through hosts, right? That's interesting and all, but this is a smut blog. So Im'ma change that for my muse. Only him, though. Other flayers are still sexless.

Basically long ago, when the magic hating ilithid empire was going strong, one magically inclined (Sorcerer) ilithid, called Laz, decided to study the reproduction methods of inferior species, so he saw a lot of stuff, but most commonly he saw sexual intercourse. A lot of it, and decided to experience it himself.

After a lot of (Magically aided) body augmentation and trying out all sorts of sex, being both the "male" and the "female", he realized he most enjoyed having a penis and being the one doing the penetrating when having sex. These experiments and his magical abilities were then found by the rest of the Ilithid empire, and were deemed degeneracy, and mutation beyond pardon, so they cut him off from the hive mind, and strapped him with a device that would allow him to live with a singular mind. They them exiled him to the material realm.

Now with a mind his own, a name he himself chose, and a fascination with women's bodies, he roams the land, using his powers and amassing power, so he can live a hedonistic, sex filled life were he doesn't have to worry about anything. Oh, he also feeds on stuff other than brains, too, though he does have some favoritism to munching on thinkers.

His ultimate goal though, is to find out why after being excised from the hive mind, he begins having flashes to the life he once had, before he became a Flayer. Back when he was an elf.

Basically, him being an elf explains his long ass lifespan, gives him a sort of "maybe I'll become a good guy if certain things happen" vibe and why he doesn't sleep like other ilithid.

He is also really fucking selfish, both in and out of bed, he uses magic and mind power to appear normal while walking around, and is no stranger to mind control or coercion to get some. By the way, he's a Chaotic Neutral bastard with a capital B. So I can play him as evil as you'd like.

Gimme suggestions on how to change anything if it doesn't fit too well. I really feel like when I finally do a vampire/Lich muse, that'll be my 'mustache twirling evil mastermind BBEG' muse. Ilithids are cool final bosses don't get me wrong, but I kinda wanna do one thats basically a nobody, and thats why he's 'dangerous.'

Also, his dick could be just a tentacle or an actual dick, maybe a semi-hard, flexible tentacle-dick. Dunno, could be fun to mess around with that.

Anyways, that's it for now.

[thelittlestspider]

asking a writelblr question cuz I am BORED AT WORK!!!!!!!!!!!! Who is your favorite character... that you have created? Why do you like them so much? (Sorry if this sends multiple times, my work wifi is shit)

This is such a hard question because I love so many of them.

My top 5 is probably something like this (the order isn't indicative of who I like the best. It's just the order I thought of them)

- Javier Rojas: I love Javier's weird guy energy, but I also really like his resilience and ability to adapt despite living most of his life suffering. And I love his confidence and the amount of love he has for his partners. I also love that he gets emotional thinking about plants and that he has a mustache lol. I'm kind of obsessed with him.

- Scott Tillman: Scott has such a fucked up backstory and he's the first character I've ever tried to write into a psychological horror where he is unintentionally an unreliable narrator because of brainwashing and mind control that causes him to have a kind of amnesia of certain events. I think he and Ray sort of have this beauty and the beast dynamic where he believes he's a monster and that Ray is too good for him, but she thinks she's turning into a monster as well, just a different kind.

- Ray Lopez: Ray is one of the oldest ocs I have, and she's gone through many iterations (she was originally male and a vampire lol). But I think I like this current one the best because she is so fucking lonely and she cares so much about her family and friends and her neighbors and her community in general. And her struggle with being famous vs just wanting to be normal and have genuine connections. I love her.

- Georgia Starling: Georgia is another weird girl character and one of Tameka's queer platonic life partners. I like her because she's kind of quiet and has a weird style that makes it to where she doesn't always fit in.

- Tameka Saurey: I love her tragic backstory and the way she could choose to do medicine because of her power, but chooses to do beekeeping instead (which aligns with her passion for insects and other things that fly/crawl). And how she feels alone at first, but later comes out of her shell because she's loved and supported.

I also just love weird goth girl characters.

[voidsentprinces]

Hydaelyn: My little spark, you shall grow to the very normal height of 5'8" and be only able to grow 5 o clock shadow. You my brave little spark, shall grow to 6'8" and be absolutely ripped, you can sometimes grow a beard but it'll be like you're the Monopoly man. You, my brave little spark will be absolutely gorgeous but run like you gotta take a wizz. You, my brave little spark will be muscular and butch as fuck. You, my brave little spark, will be very small...very small and very cute. Uhh...you'll also be small and cute but people will want to give you a weird pirate mustache and pampador. Don't ask questions your Japanese voice actor will have a voice deeper than the Syrcus Trench. You, my brave little spark will be strong, muscular and fit to be tied as a pirate or warrior, you'll be love but also rare. You, will be wide as you are tall and come in green or brown, you will also be loved but rare. You my brave little spark will be tall, lanky and your neck will be strange but trust me once the first expansion hits, everyone will fall in love with a cathedral city full of your pretty boy cousins. You get permanent lipstick and you vampire fangs. You will be tall and stoice with either beige or black scales while your counterpart will be small...like...three feet beneath the sea level small. No I don't really no why, the Board just wants them that way. We were going to make them demon women but they're like...lizards...Oh yes you better believe they are smol and FULL OF RAGE! Haha. Good talk. Right then, you my brave little spark shall be a tall and beautiful warrior woman. Where's your male counterpart...oh we'll get to him in a few years. In the meantime, meet a sort of counterpart a buff lion man. And YOU my brave little spark shall be the unofficial face of our world. My little meow meows if you will. You come in sassy and cute and feral and dangerous flavors...mmm yes? You want the boys ears to wiggle and their tails to go ballistic when happy? Well since you asked so nicely. I will get right to that. Sorry what was that? Oh the lizard women are killing the men and the potatoes might be amoral killers in pastels. Well, can't work all the kinks I guess. What do mean the male meow meows are giving them special titles? Tia or Nunh? No, it doesn't have anything to do with dominance, its just a tit--...well thats HIS problem then. You no what, fuck it, Hear. Feel. Think. Good luck, try not to die, bye!