#reminds me of that vampiric rabbit

[epickiya722]

Would you believe me if I told you that my favorite BNHA character design isn't Miruko's?

[aidenwaites]

A thing about me is if im gonna use a notebook for something it's going to get a Dedicated Notebook for that purpose and which i cannot use for anything else. Which means I have so many notebooks. Five of which are currently actively in use

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: big smut - oral (fem receiving), rough sex, PinV, angst, Dean being cute

Chapter Word Count: 3158

—-MDNI—-

A/N: ahhhh so back to the normal shenanigans. Nil this chapter is loosely inspired by the song ‘Fuck Away The Pain’ by Divide the Day. Also I’m making some changes to how I link in my chapters, because I have quite a few now and it takes fucking ages. Also it’s 1:30AM and I’m tired so I’ve proof read as best as I can, let me know if you see any errors.

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New readers start here: Prologue

Previous: Chapter 11

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 12

At some point during the quiet ride home I had fallen asleep, because when I woke up I was in my bed atop the covers, still fully dressed. Not knowing what hour it was I rummaged around for my phone, finding it placed carefully next to my books on my bedside table. The brightness from the screen made me wince, my sensitive eyes finally adjusting after a few moments to read 4:17AM. I couldn’t stop the groan from slipping out and I flopped back onto my pillow. I lay there, listening to the humming vents in the bunker, taking in the deafening silence as I took long, slow breaths. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Daniel. Just not the Daniel I knew. Not the boy who lived in band t-shirts and scruffy jeans, but the strange man who wore a three piece suit and sprouted fangs from his jaw. I didn't know that person, and I'm glad I never would. My mind then drifted to Dean; seeing his confused face and shocked expression towards the revelation that I KNEW the vampire about to be killed. My face scrunched like I'd tasted something sour at the thought. I couldn't place my finger on it, but the whole situation felt wrong - uncomfortable. Like I'd been unfaithful even though I'm technically not tied to anyone. It felt like I'd been unfaithful to Dean, and we all knew the last thing he wanted was commitment. Is that what I wanted? Dean? Something more than just carnal desire? A relationship? Security? Someone to call mine? My head felt like it was starting to spin as I spiralled down a rabbit hole I had no intention of venturing down. I shook the intrusive thoughts from my head, deciding that it was the very last thing I needed to be thinking about right now. Sitting up slowly I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, my socked-feet gently connecting with the floor as I quietly left my room, heading down towards the kitchen. The grumbling of my stomach reminding me that I've not eaten for about twelve hours.

My arrival to the kitchen turned heads. More heads than I anticipated being there. In all honesty, I thought everyone would have been in bed at this hour. Apparently not. Of course there was Sam and Dean, Charlie, and that strange angel - what was his name? Castiel? But there was also a woman who I’d never seen before. She had short dark hair and a kind face, but there was something sad and sorrowful about her smile. The five pairs of eyes scorched my skin and I stopped in my tracks, taking a tentative step backwards. The only thing stopping me from turning tail and running out of there was the soothing voice calling my name that somehow instantly calmed my nerves. It was like molasses; sweet and deep and as intoxicating as aged liquor. Before I even had a chance to change my mind about sticking around, Dean had swallowed the distance between us and enveloped me in a crushing embrace. A strange instinct took over and I buried my makeup-smeared face into his chest, feeling the devastatingly familiar burn of hot tears start to well up and spill over.

“Dean-” my voice was small and hoarse as I squeaked out his name, his arms tightening around me reflexively.

“It's ok sweetheart, you don't have to say anything.

I've got you.”

*

He'd walked me slowly back to my room, like I was something so fragile and the smallest knock would cause me to shatter. In all honesty it wouldn't be an incorrect statement - It felt like the softer Dean was with me the more delicate I became. My demeanour had the density of a feather and the brittleness of tempered glass; one wrong move and I'd burst into hundreds of little pieces that would have to be glued back together.

The door clicked shut behind us and he guided me to sit on the bed. I crawled into the middle and sat with my legs crossed, uncaring of the fact my micro skirt did little to cover what dignity I had left. The thin white petticoat tickled my thighs as Dean shuffled to sit in front of me, his large hands now resting face up in my lap, beckoning my small fingers to become entwined in his. We sat knee-to-knee, Dean's eyes tracking every movement I made - every breath, every blink, every nervous bite of my lip. He took a deep inhale and a slow exhale, like he was using those seconds to decide on what to say. His rough thumbs caressed my knuckles.

“Sweetheart; it's ok to cry.”

That softness radiating from him pulled a ragged sob from my chest, my bottom lip quivering as I made the bad decision to make eye contact with him. The tears started to stream again.

“D-Daniel- he- I s-saw him- he was hit b-by a f-fucking e-eighteen wheeler, D-Dean. H-he was on his motorbike and h-e was thrown a-bout ninety feet b-before h-he hit the g-ground. I went t-to get a FUCKING s-snack and t-the moment I-I came back o-outside he was- he was-”

Before I could carry on he had pulled me into another crushing embrace, my legs slipping over his as he pulled me to sit in his lap. Rough denim rubbed on my inner thighs as his arms tightened around me, my arms moving on their own to loop around his neck.

“We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to.”

I sniffled.

“I just want to f-forget about him. I-I healed f-from this already. I don't w-want to h-have to do that a-again, Dean. I can’t. That person- th-that vamp- he wasn’t him. Please- I just- I just want to forget.”

I pulled back to look at him. I saw this way his eyes darted to my lips and I knew he tried to fight it, I knew he’d scold himself internally for thinking such thoughts in a moment like this. His evergreen gaze flitted across my face before my own eyes landed on his mouth. I saw the way his lips were parted. I saw how his pupils dilated and how his fingers tightened on the small amount of fabric at my hips. How he swallowed, almost nervously, when I moved my own fingers to tug on his hair - to glide over his scalp. I couldn't help but allow myself to sit heavier in his lap.

“(Y/n), sweetheart. We shouldn’t- I shouldn't - I don't want to take advantage of you. Not like this,” his voice was an unusual mixture of pained self-restraint and compassionate sympathy.

“Dean,” my own voice came out sterner than I intended and I felt him flinch beneath my fingertips. “I want to forget. Make me forget.”

It was like a spark had hit a lake of gasoline; one small thing had ignited us, and my face was still wet with tears when Dean threw me down onto the mattress, my head at the foot of the bed. Thick, slightly trembling fingers glided up my thighs and tugged down my underwear, throwing it into the depths of my room. Rough palms suddenly gripped the back of my thighs and pushed up, my knees almost touching my ears whilst he shuffled slightly, like he was getting comfortable. Right when I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, I felt it: A lick. A warm wetness that wasn’t my own. Precision and practice had made this appendage a dear friend of the night, which I realised when I felt my brows scrunch together shortly followed by a breathy moan.

“Fuck-”

His tongue went around and around and around, occasionally grazing over my clit but generally taking great care to avoid it; to pump up the agonising sensitivity and make me squirm. I felt his lips move against me, his words fanning hot breaths over my most intimate area as his voice rumbled in his chest.

“Fuck, (Y/n) you're delicious.”

Dipping back down and tongue back at work, he continued his actions, starting slowly - oh so slowly - before speeding up, and up and up until he stopped. He stopped making little circles around my bundle of nerves, and before I could even whine about it he'd pressed the entirety of his tongue against my opening. I didn't think much of the hand releasing my thigh and dropping it on his shoulder until the pad of his thumb pressed on my buzzer, sending a singular shockwave through me whilst he continued to taste me. His thumb swirled again and again whilst his tongue carefully dipped in and out, seeming to know exactly where to press, when to do it and the amount of pressure needed. It had only been a few minutes but I already felt like a melting mess, my body starting to writhe as the pleasure started to build in the depths of my stomach. I felt like I was losing control of my thighs as Dean's fingers dug into the soft flesh of the one he was holding up, the side of his head leaning into the other one, stubble scratching at the soft skin on the inside of my thigh as his jaw flexed with every movement of his tongue. If he wasn't holding onto me like he was, I felt like I could crush him. Another moan passed through my lips when he sped up a little more, my fingers racing to tangle with his hair, pulling a satisfied noise from him.

“Dean- please- if you keep going like this I'm g’nna come-”

He ceased his actions and pushed up, leaning forwards so he was towering above me with my arousal practically dripping from his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and there was an almost primal glint in his eye.

“Do you wanna come?”

The sound of his voice could have snapped that coil inside me there and then. Instead I groaned quietly, watching the way he slowly wrapped his fingers around my calf that rested on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my inner thigh just above my knee. His dark eyes never left mine.

“I wanna come s’bad, but…” I paused and felt my face heat up.

“But…?”

“But I want to feel you inside me when I do.”

His eyes looked like they were about to roll into the back of his head before he caught himself and stared back down at me, chewing on his bottom lip slightly.

“Fuck sweetheart, those are dangerous words.”

“You're a dangerous man…”

There were a few moments of silence, racing heartbeats almost audible from the other side of the room. I hooked my other leg over his shoulder and linked my ankles behind his back, pulling him further down towards me.

“Dean- please. I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

I'd barely finished my sentence when his mouth pressed to mine, hot and panting. I could taste the bite of the whiskey he'd drunk at the club, the richness of it still on his tongue after all these hours - he must've had more when we got back to the bunker. I stretched my hands down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, fingers frantically trying to undo everything just so I could feel him - touch him. Anything to focus on him and him alone.

“Do you still want to forget, darlin’?”

I nodded.

“And you’re sure you’re ok with this? I don’t want you to reg-“

“I won’t, I promise. I just need you to make my mind go blank; I need the… pain to go away.”

He pulled his T-shirt off in one swift movement before lowering himself to mere centimetres above me, our lips practically touching.

“Then use me however you need to.”

His words were electric. I didn’t give him a chance to pull away, my hands cupping the sides of his face and dragging his mouth down to mine in a frenzied kiss. I was starting to become familiar with how he kissed me - with how he moved his mouth; how he tasted. I was starting to get used to him. You could almost say that I was starting to crave him. With his intoxicating scent and how he tasted when we practically devoured each other. He was becoming my lifeline, somehow, and that thought alone made my heart race.

I thrust my hands down between us to finish what I started before with unbuckling his belt and jeans, eventually dipping a hand into his underwear and feeling him hot, hard, and heavy in my palm. He made a small noise in the back of his throat, unwilling to break away from my lips. I only pushed his clothing as far as I needed to before pulling him out, wiping my thumb over his tip to gather as much precum as I could before smearing it up and down his length in gentle strokes. I started to play him at his own game by starting tantalisingly slow, speeding up over time before he was grasping at my wrist and halting my actions.

“Please-” he almost begged, pulling away from me slightly, “please don’t make me come yet.”

“Then fuck me and we can come together.”

He didn’t waste another second as he lined himself up to my entrance and pushed in, getting lost in my comforting warmth as he groaned into the crook of my neck. I gasped at the stretch, a high-note moan slipping out as he barely waited two seconds before rolling his hips back and forth. Aside from heavy breathing and uncontrolled moans, the only other thing to be heard was the wetness between our bodies and the unmistakable sound of skin-on-skin.

“I wasn’t going to say anything because the timing was never right, but holy fuck (Y/n), your outfit is killing me,” he somehow managed to form a sentence between the panting, the almost crude compliment bringing a blissed out smile to my lips, my mind incapable of forming a coherrant reply.

My ankles unlocked from around his back as his thrusting became more erratic and my legs dropped from his shoulders. Dean took this as a cue to change positions as he grasped my ass and lifted it off the mattress, pulling my body on and off his cock over and over and over again, like I was his own personal toy to use. And the whore that lived deep in my soul loved every second of it. My eyes focused on Deans face, noting how his jaw clenched as his eyes constantly moved up and down my body - taking in every curve of soft skin and ruffle of my outfit. The occasional stutter of his hips was the tell that he was nearing his end, so I traced my hands up my body and pulled the front of my top down, letting my tits bounce free. I pinched and twisted my nipples between my fingers, biting my bottom lip as I felt my sex flutter at the extra stimulation. If Dean wasn’t salivating before, he certainly was now. Keeping one hand on my breast I moved the other one down. Down over the softness of my stomach and to the soaking wetness between my legs, my fingers pressing soft circles around my clit and making me clench even harder around Dean. I swirled and swirled whilst still playing with my nipples, bringing that ever-nearing storm closer to home. I know Dean could feel it too, because his grip on my ass was slipping and he didn’t seem to care; gripping me so tight I was certain I’d see bruises in the afternoon. Letting go of my tit I brought my other hand between us, feeling where Dean and I joined together; feeling how intimate it felt. I could feeling myself tipping over the edge as the noises tumbling from my lips kept coming, urging Dean to somehow fuck me harder and deeper than he already was.

“Sh-shit sweetheart, if you keep making noises like that I won’t be able to go on any longer.”

“Fuck - Dean please- please-”

It was when his eyes met mine, those mossy-green irises clouded with lust and desire, that the storm came crashing in and my euphoria struck me like white hot lightning. My own orgasm pulled Dean into his own one as a string of unintelligible curses fell from his lips before his thrusting ceased and he set me down gently on the bed. No words spoken, no movements made; just his eyes piercing mine as the sound of heavy breaths filled the room. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there for, not making a single move whilst regaining our composure. That was, until I reached out, unthinking, and traced my thumb over Deans bottom lip. My palm rested softly on his cheek and he allowed his eyes to flutter closed for a few short moments before opening them again. When I finally spoke, my voice was barely above a whisper.

“Dean I…I’m sorry.”

He looked puzzled.

“What for? I mean if anything, it should be me apologising.”

I shook my head, a few aches starting to settle over my body already.

“I feel like I’ve used you.”

He chuckled slightly, planting his hands either side of my head and leaning in slightly.

“I told you to.”

“No, like, today was rough, emotionally. It was my baggage and I feel like you’re the one I’ve forced to carry it.”

It was his turn to shake his head.

“Don’t be stupid. You think I’m here, helping you to forget two different versions of the same person against my will? Sweetheart, I want to be here, making you feel better anyway I can,” he smiled a boyish smile, “hell, I’d’ve made you hot chocolate with cream and frickin marshmallows if that would’ve helped. Or watched some dumb ass chick-flick. Maybe even both.”

I couldn’t stop the schoolgirl grin from blooming as I fought every urge to pull him down to me and kiss him. Kiss him like I fucking meant it.

“Could we still do that?”

He chuckled, the sound causing the butterflies in my chest to flutter.

“You bet you’re perfect ass we can,” he punctuated with a light slap to my rear. “What do you wanna watch?”

I pondered for a moment, wondering what DVDs the boys would have laying around in the bunker. In all honesty though, I had one box set to my name that Bobby bought me many moons ago.

“Is Lord of the Rings good with you?”

He looked up for a moment and I’m convinced I saw him mouth ‘thank you’ to the ceiling. But that would be absurd, right?

“Darlin’ it’s perfect. But first let’s get you cleaned up.”

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Up Next: Chapter 13

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@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[taeyongdoyoung]

blessed-cur(s)ed

summary: your bestie is obsessed with the idea of your blood but there's a chance it might kill him so he dares you to try it on the most popular guy in your school for supernatural beings pairing: vampire!heeseung x powerless witch!reader side couple: future vampire!sunoo x (idk what!)sunghoon implied at the end 👀 genre: fantasy, humour, romance, lowkey insta-love but actually classmates to lovers? warnings: flirty bestie!sunoo (yes, that's a warning in itself), nerdy AND popular guy!heeseung (canon event, methinks), mentions of blood, talks of death, experiments, book of cur(s)es, the bet trope with a twist, attempted murder (but not really), kissing, biting, kneeling, swearing, song references author's note: happy halloween, everyone! 🧛 i wanted to write something spooky-themed for the occasion and what better way than vampire enha to celebrate ❤️ i accidentally deleted my fic like a 🤡 so im reposting lol

word count: 2.8k

"I want to drink your blood sooo bad," Sunoo, your vampire bestie, keeps telling you.

Now, you may find that a bit strange. How is he a vampire and why are you so chill about it? Well, the thing is, you've been attending a school for supernatural beings for the past couple of years.

You come from a family of witches, but your powers haven't manifested yet. There is completely nothing special about you.

Well, except for one thing. Your blood, apparently. Your witchy ancestors loved experimenting with their own blood and according to some old book containing curses and other supernatural information, they turned it into a poison for vampires.

Which can be problematic, considering your bestie's obsession with how good you smell.

"Sunoo, shut up, I keep telling you that my blood and that of my entire family can literally kill you!" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time only this month.

"Pfft, don't tell me you still believe that stupid old book? Your ancestors probably lied 'cause they were afraid vampires would bleed them dry. I mean, judging by your amazing smell, your great-grandparents' scent was probably just as tempting to vampires," Sunoo argues passionately.

"You can't risk it, Sunoo! I don't wanna lose my best friend just because you can't control your urges," you sigh loudly.

"Oh I can control myself alright, I've been living on deer and rabbits for as long as I remember. Just one tiny taste, honeypie, pleaseee, I swear, you won't even feel it," Sunoo continues the incessant begging. "My fangs aren't that sharp."

"Sunoo, no! I'm not even worried about myself, I trust your dorky ass, but you can literally die," you constantly remind him.

"Can being the key word!" Sunoo, ever the optimist says. "But what if I don't? What if your ancestors were full of shit?"

"No, die is the key word!" you fight back. "I can't lose my best friend. No means no."

"Ughhh," Sunoo complains even more. "What if we test it on someone?"

"What?!" you hiss-whisper.

"Some other vampire. What if we convince them to drink your blood and see if they die," Sunoo suggests boldly.

"That's attempted murder!" you look around to make sure none of your classmates heard you. Maybe it's a good thing most of them are so preoccupied with their own looks that they pay no attention to you two...

"It's not if they survive!" Sunoo keeps looking from the bright side.

"You're crazy," you shake your head. But the idea does sound fun...Wait, no, you're not even considering it!

"What about him?" Sunoo murmurs in your ear, just as someone enters the classroom.

It's Heeseung. Only the most popular guy in your school. The most liked, the most talented in all subjects, the most unattainable.

There's no way you could ever pull him. There's no way you could even convince him to drink your blood.

"Only vampires from my family know about the book of curses your family possesses," Sunoo nudges you gently. "You just have to get him alone and I'm sure he'll bite. Both literally and metaphorically."

You shake your head in disagreement.

"He won't. He's wayyy out of my league."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Sunoo rolls his eyes. "You're very pretty and you smell incredible! I bet you taste so sweet-"

"Dude, your obsession with my smell and potential taste is deeply concerning," you point out.

"Talk to him. I bet he'll be interested."

"What's in it for me? I don't wanna kill the guy..."

"You won't, I'm pretty sure. But just in case, I'll...say I killed him. If he happens to...you know. Not that vampires are alive in the first place, but whatever."

"That's the bare minimum, considering it's your idea,"

"Ugh, fine. I'll do your assignments till the end of the year," Sunoo promises. Knowing he's among the top students, constantly battling with Heeseung for the first place, this sounds like a very tempting offer. And considering this is your last year of high school...

"Deal," you shake his hand and get up from your chair. There are still a couple of minutes till class starts. So, you do the one thing you never thought you'd be able to do.

You approach THE Lee Heeseung.

"Um, hi," you greet him.

"You talking to me?" Heeseung looks up from his phone in curiosity.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I bothering you, Heeseung?"

"No, you're good," Heeseung chuckles and God, that sound is so smooth. "I just didn't think you knew my name."

"Are you kidding me? You're like the most famous guy in our entire school."

"I've been told. Is that why we've never talked for...um, let me think, the past four years?"

"Maybe so," you laugh nervously. "Sorry. You're kinda intimidating, you know that?"

"Me?" Heeseung repeats cutely, as if he's never heard a more ridiculous claim. "No way. So, did you want to ask me something?"

"Erm, yes, actually. Do you wanna hang out sometime? Like...do homework or stuff?"

"Sure, that sounds nice. Your place or mine?" he immediately agrees which is a huge shock to you.

Your place is out of the question. Your witchy parents would be furious if they found out you're trying to get a vampire to drink your blood. And his place sounds just as bad. If the poor guy drops dead in his own home with you being there, his vampire parents would be unhappy, to say the least.

"How about the forest?" you blurt out without thinking.

"The forest? That's a strange place for doing homework, no?"

"It's, um, quieter than the library," you respond dumbly.

"Forest it is," Heeseung complies to your complete amazement. "See you after class?"

"Yes, that'd be awesome," you mumble and hurry back to your seat as the teacher enters the classroom.

"How did it go?" Sunoo asks you quietly.

"He agreed to go out with me," you reply, still in shock.

"See? I told you he'd bite," Sunoo says with a wink.

But instead of being happy, you're dreading it. Because Heeseung seems like a really nice guy. And you're planning to use him as a guinea pig! And for what? To appease Sunoo's silly idea and get him to do your assignments for a year?

Class ends sooner than you'd like and you meet up with Heeseung in the forest near the school.

Little does your inexperienced ass know that your other classmates use the forest as a hook-up place! So, when Heeseung has no intention of doing any homework with you and kisses you without warning, you find yourself in an even more unexpected predicament. You're kissing him back, because duh, this is THE Lee Heeseung. When a chance like that appears right in front of you, you take it and don't let go. He smells and tastes so good and you finally get Sunoo's obsession with you. Heeseung wraps his fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. Damn, you never expected he'd be into you! You're enjoying this unbelievable moment to the fullest when suddenly, he breaks the kiss and asks:

"Can I bite you? Just once, I promise. You just smell sooo freaking nice," Heeseung begs as if in a daze.

Fuck. If Sunoo was here, he'd tell you to agree rightaway. But your moral compass happens to be stronger than your loyalty to Sunoo's weird idea.

"I'm sorry, Heeseung, but no."

"I swear, I won't hurt you," he keeps pleading. Damnit, he's turning into Sunoo 2.0.

"It's not that. I feel terrible now, but I haven't been entirely honest with you. There is this old book of curses that my family possesses. And in it, it says my ancestors did some experiments with their blood. Apparently, theirs and my blood can be poisonous to vampires. If you bite me...you can literally die," you confess in a hurry, before you can change your mind. Heeseung deserves to know the truth.

"So...you approached me to actually do homework?" Heeseung blinks, still confused.

"No, I approached you because my dumbass best friend wanted me to use you as a test. To see if my blood is actually like sweet venom to vampires so he can get a taste of me next," you tell him everything like a fool.

"Oh," Heeseung appears so crest-fallen your heart is genuinely breaking for him.

You drop to your knees guiltily.

"I'm so sorry. Feel free to kill me."

"Not if you kill me first," Heeseung smirks coldly and attacks your neck with his fangs.

Fuck, no! You try to push him away but he's too strong! What is wrong with him? You literally just told him he might die if he drinks your blood. Why is he doing this? Is he suicidal or something?! You keep attempting to get him off of you but it's no use. As your blood is entering his system, you begin to feel so weak and dizzy. Oh, well. You kinda deserve it.

Just as your eyes are about to close and you are on the verge of losing consciousness, Heeseung's teeth leave your skin. He holds you in his arms so that you don't fall.

"Sorry, did I go too hard on you?" he asks sweetly, ever the gentleman.

"Are you crazy? What part of you can literally die did you not understand?"

"I apologize. You just smell and apparently, taste, so fucking sweet, I couldn't possibly resist. I won't do it again, I swear."

"That's right, you won't. Cause you will be dead!" you repeat, feeling completely exasperated.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm already dead," he jokes. "But seriously, my reading shows there is a huge chance old books like that are not entirely reliable. I probably should have told you that sooner..."

"Yeah, you should have!" you try to be angry but you also feel so worried for him. Even though you don't know him that well, you've already gotten attached.

"I'm really sorry," Heeseung repeats.

"Why are you apologizing? What if this actually kills you?"

"Oh, I know you'll be the death of me."

So, you wait. Nothing immediately happens, which would be reassuring, if it wasn't for Heeseung's desire to keep kissing you, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to do. Boys...

A while later, you both go to your own respective homes. The next day, you arrive at the school, informing Sunoo of what recently transpired. He's really excited that Heeseung is still alive and wants to drink from you as soon as possible. But you tell him to wait a little longer.

When the first class starts and Heeseung isn't there, you think nothing of it. Maybe he overslept. But when the second class starts and Heeseung still hasn't showed up, you begin to worry. He's the best student, he never misses class, he's so diligent and hard-working.

Fuck. You killed him. That's why he's not coming to school. You immediately rush out of the classroom, ignoring your teacher's harsh reprimands. You'll deal with that later.

That is when it hits you. You don't even know where Heeseung lives. And what would you do even if you did? Show up at his place, asking his parents: "Um, sorry, but is your son still alive? You know, regardless of being a vampire?"

That would be even crazier than what happened yesterday. You run into the forest to escape your growing panic. You run and you run until you no longer remember which way the school is.

And that is when the miracle happens. You spot him! Sitting next to a tree.

"Heeseung! You're alive!" you scream in relief and rush to hug him.

"Of course I'm alive, silly," Heeseung chuckles, hugging you back.

"Why didn't you come to class?" you explain your worries to him.

"I was feeling unbelievably peckish. Thought I'd hunt for some wild animals, but nothing helped. I'm still hungry as hell."

"That's strange," you reply. "Do you think it could be because of my blood? Do you feel any different?"

"I don't know," Heeseung shrugs. "I'm just so fucking hungry. Can I bite you again, please?"

"No, Heeseung, we still don't know whether or not it's lethal. It just might take more time. If you drink more of my blood, something bad could happen."

"You're right, I know," Heeseung's head drops in disappointment. "Forget I even asked."

"I have a turkey sandwich in my bag?" you offer. "I know vampires don't eat food like that but still..."

"You know what? That sounds really delicious, can I please try it?"

"Um, sure," you don't know why he's asking so politely since you literally just suggested it. As you unwrap and hand him the sandwich, you are amazed by how quickly he devours it.

"Damn, this was the best meal I've ever had!" Heeseung exclaims in surprise.

"Huh," you blink at him and touch his forehead on a whim. Why is it so warm? He was freakishly cold yesterday. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, I feel much better after this sandwich, why?"

"Erm, not to concern you or anything but your skin is like super warm."

"That's...not normal for a vampire," Heeseung reasons.

"Exactly," you respond and touch his wrist with your fingers. Squeezing his veins lightly you feel something. Something that shouldn't exist. Something that you previously thought impossible. "Um, Heeseung...you have a pulse."

"What?!" he checks for himself, confirming what you just said as true. "Do you happen to know where I can read that book of your ancestors?"

"I carried it in my bag today, just in case," you praise your past self for being so clever and pull out the old book, handing it to Heeseung.

As he reads the section that contains information about your ancestors' blood.

Heeseung nods in contemplation as he finds the thing he's looking for.

"Just as I thought. This book isn't the original text your ancestors wrote. It's a translation. Or maybe I should say a mistranslation. Look, here," he points to a particular place with his finger. "It says forever cursed shall be the vampire that our blood drinks but the grammar is all wonky. Not easy to spot. It should be forever cured. I think your blood has the ability to turn vampires into humans."

"So...you're a human now?" you blink in surprise.

"I guess so."

"Fuck, Heeseung, I'm so sorry!" you cry out apologetically.

"Are you kidding? I've wanted to turn human my whole life!"

"What, why? Why give up immortality?"

"Because I just want to a normal, boring life, marry the girl of my dreams, settle down, have kids. Is that too much to ask for?"

"No, I get it," you sigh wistfully. "My parents are so disappointed in me and the fact that my witchy powers haven't manifested yet. But what if that's all I have? Just a normal girl whose blood turns vampires into humans..."

"There's nothing normal about you," Heeseung chuckles but the way he says it makes it sound like a compliment. "Hey, does that offer for doing homework in the forest still stand?"

"Sounds great to-" you don't even get to finish your sentence because Heeseung is kissing you again. Damn, you forgot that the word forest was code for making out.

Oh, well, there are worse things you could do...

Bonus:

"So, can I drink your blood now?" Sunoo asks.

"Bro, did you not hear what I just said? I turned the most popular vampire in our school for supernatural beings into a human! He can no longer even go to our school. His parents must be furious with me. I'm lucky they haven't killed me. Hell, I'm lucky they're letting me date him. I really don't get it."

"You know that doesn't sound too bad to me, right?" Sunoo keeps begging.

"I may have survived Heeseung's parents but what makes you think I'll survive yours?"

"You're my best friend. They'll get over it," Sunoo shrugs carelessly.

"You're literally addicted to the idea of my blood. Get help!"

"You wanna kiss me so bad it make you look stupid," Sunoo sticks his tongue out childishly.

"You wish," you roll your eyes.

"Do you think Heeseung will be mad at me if I bite you? Oh, right, he's human now, so he can't hurt me," Sunoo leans in.

"Sunoo, no!" you try to push him away.

"You'll let me one day, I know it," Sunoo grins widely, showing you his sharp fangs.

They might scare another witch, but not you. You know how powerful your blood is and while Heeseung was miraculously happy to turn into a human, 99% of the vampire population would rather die than become humans. So, you believe you're safe with Sunoo. For now. If you can only find someone whose scent is more tempting to him than yours...

"Good morning, everyone! Today we have a new student, his name is Sunghoon," the teacher announces all of a sudden. "Let's welcome him!"

"Hi, Sunghoon!" the class says in unison.

"Damnit, he smells incredible," Sunoo whispers in your ear.

Ah shit, here we go again...

The End

[claws-and-all]

My version of Tamlin throughout the years

Emil Andersson

When I first read the series in 2018, I pictured Tamlin to be similar to lotr elves, tall and ethereal. A young Emil Andersson encompassed that for me. It's so nostalgic looking at these pics that I dug up from the archives. This version will always be my favorite ❤️

Luke Eisner

2019 - A year later and still heavily obsessed with Tamlin I found Luke whilst watching Tall Girl. His entrance was literally that heavenly "ahhhhh" music ringing in your head. An absolute stunner of a man. And just like that he became a version of Tamlin. Then you kind of go down a rabbit hole and become obsessed with his music as well (How very Tamlin-esque of him!) - I recommend "Figure You Out" if you'd like to listen, it's their most popular, and Gus's voice is the best thing everrrr!

Sam Reid

2024 - My infatuation with Tamlin had died down and surprisingly HOFAS brought me back into the fandom with full force. A few months back I was looking for something to watch and stumbled onto "Interview With A Vampire", season 2 had just begun and I figured let me give it a chance. Throughout the first season, I kept telling myself to stop turning every blonde man I came across into Tamlin! However, I couldn't stop the urge. Sam Reid is so insanely talented. His acting blew my mind. The way he embodies Lestat makes me wonder how fantastically he would play Tamlin in a live-action (Though I pray to the mother above for acotar to be canned! It's a disaster waiting to happen). To those who watched it, did the last ep of s2 not remind you of a broken Tamlin in his destroyed manor?!

An honorable mention is Brock O'Hurn whom I had recently discovered thanks to @avabrynne

Despite having these celebs as a base for Tam, my mind still conjures up different versions of him depending on how I feel. Some days he's giving lotr, some days he's giving Viking warrior vibes, other days he's a straight-up animated version lol.

What does your version of Tamlin look like?

This post was inspired by @positivelyruined - you had recently posted that Luke will always be your Tam. And @ladydelena - your alphabet post had Sam Reid in the end. I just had to combine both my loves into one post!

[therealvinelle]

I’ve been going down a little rabbit hole of Twilight today, found your blog and have been thoroughly enjoying your meta on Bella and Renesmee’s powers. Do you have any thoughts on what their powers could truly be classified as? Like, Bella makes sense as some sort of self-preservation thing, but Renesmee’s honestly sounds more like mind control.

Thank you!

I don't really love the classification system that's used in Twilight, as it reminds the nerd in me of how unsupervised k-means AI classification will work: it looks at the data points and says "Okay, these are different enough from the rest and similar enough to each other that they're probably related. Alright alright, this cluster must be blue."

You also, when doing this type of classification, want to tell the computer how many categories it's looking for, which depends on the size of the data set, and the type.

It's not a perfect analogy to what Eleazar is doing, but he reminds me more of a k-means cluster than he does Charles von Linné, who was a brilliant biologist who invented the modern system of naming and categorizing organisms that we use today.

He looks at the gifted vampire he is presented, compares it to other gifts he has known, and assigns a similar category if he finds one that's similar. This, famously, leads to such differences as psychic and physical gifts (which to me is such a "Are you a computer trying your best with unlabelled classification? Are you having a hard time?" thing to which the computer would sadly admit "yes :(") where what's assigned a physical gift and what's assigned a psychic gift seems so incredibly arbitrary and contradictory that I can only assume somebody got ahead of themselves with "A and B are similar. B and C are similar. A, B, and C must be the same category!" and now they have a problem.

As an example: Aro and Edward are similar. They both read your mind. They have clear differences, however, as Aro requires physical touch to do so and Edward requires doesn't, while Aro is able to read all the thoughts you've ever had while Edward can read every mind within the area. You can classify them as mind readers, sure. Now you have a category describing "vampire who can read minds".

Demetri, according to Edward himself, is also similar to Edward. They both sense a person's mind, without need of touch. However, Demetri senses location, Edward doesn't, and Edward senses thoughts, Demetri doesn't. Edward is limited by geographical distance, Demetri is limited by one degree of Kevin Bacon. But if we want to classify them, then mind sensing might be the best way to do so. Both can stand in a room and, without moving a muscle, have a sense of every mind around them and they will gain information others can't.

Aro and Demetri, however, have very little in common. Their common denominator is that it "has to do with the mind".

Now for added difficulty: how do we classify Renesmee? She can by touching people convey her thoughts. This seems to be something she needs to block rather than choose to show, as people can touch her to see her thoughts when she's unconscious.

Is she then in the same category as Aro and Edward, or we create a parent category for "something to do with mind reading" and Aro and Edward are a shared subcategory for reading the minds of others well Renesmee is in sharing her mind, or is Edward off on his own with non-tactile mind-reading while Aro and Renesmee get a shared subcategory for tactile mind-reading-related? Does Demetri belong higher up in the tree, at the "mind sensing" junction before the others split off into the "something to do with mind reading" subtree?

The reason why I ask these questions, is to illustrate how meaningless it all is. There are so few gifted vampires in Twilight that we don't have enough data points to start looking for meaningful classification or similarities. Aro, Demetri, Edward, and Renesmee are all unique, with gifts unique to them. God knows that if my theory that Renesmee's real gift is to make people not want to hurt her, then she's suddenly in the same camp as Renata, who makes people forget what they were doing when they try.

Except Renata's gift is to disorient people when they get physically close, Renesmee's is to make them not want to hurt her in the first place. If we classify them together, then I don't think Renata can be classified as a shield anymore. The impenetrable space around her would only be a materialization of her gift, which is to dissuade attackers from entering that space.

Which brings me to the next point: the so-called psychic vs. physical gift division.

It depends entirely on how you classify these gifts. What makes Jasper and Alice's gifts physical? Jasper can manipulate and sense emotions, how is that different from Alec, Jane, Kate, and Zafrina manipulating your sense reseptors? Alice can see things which may happen, how is that physical if Edward seeing thoughts and Zafrina creating elaborate illusions isn't?

Benjamin, surely, must be physical. Except his gift is the only one of its kind in canon, no similarities to anyone else, which means he proves that vampire gifts can truly be anything and there's no point in trying to classify them in relation to one another when the population is so small and the unknown potential for gifts so vast.

I think I have argued here in favor of tags, or attributes: you identify something a gift can do, and you don't try to draw similarities, for yonder lies nothing but subjective opinion.

Renesmee can be similar to Aro for "shares thoughts by touch", to Jane by "imparts illusions on one individual at a time", potentially to Renata for "dissuades attackers", and is canonically compared to her father's gift. It depends entirely on how you interpret and want to classify their gifts. And sure, you can do that, no one is stopping you from classifying in any way you want, but the trouble is that you now have a system that's extremely vulnerable to expansion and changes to entries.

There's also the matter of usefulness - the tracker category, which encompasses all vampires who are good at finding others, is a useful one. Some vampires will be able to use their gift, whatever it is, to find you, others won't. I respect that category. I also respect calling Aro and Edward mind readers, it's what they are.

What I don't respect is wanting to categorize every gifted vampire, nor attempting larger classification and to cluster them. The similarities are just that, similarities.

Eleazar is overzealous.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Jasper taking gn! reader out on a nature walk

Since this request isn't too detailed I'm just gonna do this as a hc <:

Jasper Taking You On a Nature Walk HC

Pairing: Jasper Hale/Whitlock x Human!GN!Reader

Warnings: mc much prefers to be inside, me personally i like a nice hike, though i get hives if it's too hot 😬, vampires have to miss walking in daylight tho, and since jasper is a former southern cowboy i bet he misses the warmth of it

Jasper taking his human partner on a nature walk

At first you grumble, wanting nothing more than to spend the day inside. You hated outside activities anyway. You and nature just didn't agree with one another

But he promises you it'll be fun. You haven't gone on one of his nature walks. It sounds promising so you easily relent, surprised by his odd request. He never asked of these kinds of things from you. He liked that you didn't like going out in public and preferred his/his family's company. It worked out for everyone. If he was going out of his way to ask this, then it was probably important to him.

Jasper keeps in mind your humanness and though Forks doesn't get a lot of sun, he's still worried about you receiving a sunburn. He lovingly slathers your face and arms in sunscreen.

As he recommended, you found your comfiest pair of shoes and threw on breathable shorts paired with a tank top.

"I promise you, you're going to have fun." He kisses the tip of your nose which still had a smear of sunscreen that hadn't quite been absorbed by your skin.

Thankfully his home was surrounded by a lush forrest ringing around the house so going to an actual trail wasn't a necessity. No witnesses to his prismatic skin. No extra worries to be added on this excursion.

You're not accustomed to the buzzing sound of bugs or the bumpy earth that was riddled with the crawling roots of trees that rise from above the dirt.

You weren't clumsy, not like Edward's human girl but you didn't possess very good balance. Jasper kept a guiding hand on your arm to make sure you didn't fall. You didn't anticipate how this nature walk was turning into an interesting girl scout lesson. He bends down to show you animal tracks that you hadn't even noticed prior. Shows you how moss only grows on the north facing side of a tree and how that can benefit you if you ever get lost.

"Do you plan on deserting me here?" You ask halfheartedly but Jasper solemnly looks at you with sad eyes that catch you by surprise.

"One day you may not have me close to you. You may have to rely on the safety of the forest to protect you." He murmurs.

What made up for the boring parts of the nature walk was spying the various wild life that cautiously poke their head out from their hiding places. Squirrels and wild rabbits darted in the opposite direction if you and Jasper got too close to their home.

Eventually you start to relax in the quietness of your walk. Jasper watches you with butterflies thumping along in his stomach as you gather wild flowers; commenting how Esme would love them. The position you're at allows specks of sunlight highlight your lovely features. He's reminded constantly how much he adores you. The others in his family didn't really appreciate walks like this. Couldn't fathom why Jasper enjoyed going out even though there was a risk of someone seeing him.

But he saw the world outside their house a miracle by nature's design. Even more so now that you were out there with him, taking in the glory of living things.

[woooyeahbaby]

aprilluc day 9: vampire

warnings: blood, blood drinking, established relationship, gender neutral reader, reader takes their shirt off (there are no sexual themes), if i’ve missed anything let me know

a/n: sooo another short one, sorry. i didn’t even remember i was supposed to do this until 8pm 😭 so i apologize if this feels rushed (cuz it kind of is…) the next day is cowboy, but idk if i’ll do it. i’ll surprise you with the next one i guess

admittedly, dating a vampire had it’s ups and downs.

nearly passing out from blood loss when allowing him to get his fix? not the best. but having been with you for a few years at this point, he knew just the right point to stop. not that it made it any easier, however you felt it was only fair to give something back in return for everything he has done for you.

now, it’d been a week or two since he last fed off of you. he’d always give you time to recover before his next meal from you. it helped him learn self control, but if he couldn’t help himself, he would have to go hunting. only small animals, such as rabbits or sometimes foxes.

it would be some time in the afternoon, giving your blood time to reach its regular flow rate. he’d always ‘initiate’ the same way.

“honey,” diluc says softly, his calloused yet gentle fingers brushing against your shoulder. “how are you feeling?”

“i’m okay. are you hungry?” you stand up from your seat at the dining table, turning your body to face him.

“yes, if you’re ready.” his hand remains in the same area on your shoulder, then slowly dragging his fingertips to the place on your neck with several scars from previous feedings. “here, or your wrist? whichever you’re feeling today.”

you ponder over it for a few seconds before deciding. “my neck is fine. here,” you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tilting your head to the side.

it was a simple routine now. diluc almost chuckled at how that had come about. the first few times he fed off of you it felt so awkward and unusual, and it was almost a beautiful thing how the strange became normal for you two.

“tell me when you need me to stop if i go too far, love.” he reminds you as he always does, as if you’d forgotten.

with that final warning, diluc places one hand on your bicep and the other on the side of your head before slowly sinking his teeth into your neck. you grunt at the initial pain, but having done this so many times, you learned how to deal with it. once diluc hears you take your usual few breaths to calm yourself, he begins to siphon the garnet coloured liquid from your veins and into his mouth.

as per usual, you felt the odd few droplets drip and leak down your shoulder, onto your back and chest, some even down your arm. diluc hated how messy he made you when he did this. not only did he have the guilt of literally draining the life from you, but also getting your beautiful body dirty. he would always take the time to clean you up after, though. but it wasn’t as if you would get angry with him for it anyway, you knew he needed sustenance, which was why you offered it in the first place when you first found out he was a vampire.

once you began to feel dizzy, you weakly tapped diluc’s arm with a gentle call of his name. he stops immediately, carefully pulling his fangs away from your neck as to not tear your skin any further. he cleans the remaining blood with his tongue, reaching into his chest pocket for a handkerchief that he’d use to apply pressure onto your still bleeding wound. he would always fix you up afterward, usually allowing you to eat something while he worked on your injury so you wouldn’t pass out on him.

“are you alright? i apologize, i think i dragged that one out a bit too long.” it was hard to take diluc seriously when his mouth and chin were covered in blood. it made him look like a child with a messy eating problem.

“it’s okay. i’ll be alright. just need to sit down.” your words are slightly slurred, nearly sounding as if you were drunk.

diluc helps you sit back down onto the chair you’d previously been in, still firmly holding his handkerchief to your bleeding neck.

“thank you, my love. i truly do appreciate that you do this for me so often.” there is pure love in his eyes as he says this to you. that look never changed whenever he would thank you for nourishing him. it was always the exact same look of pure adoration in his fiery eyes.

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Thanks to the power of tiktok edits, I've fallen down an Armand/Daniel rabbit hole & require fanfic recommendations.

I've already read -

. 5 Times Daniel Molloy Imagined Killing Marius de Romanus (+ 1 Time He Actually Did it) by platoapproved

. Different for vampires by Ariaste

. The dog days are over serise by Brontelover

. A haunting just for company by Valkyrisms

. A brick row house and two old men serise by hummingbeeoOo

. Caldera: Mise-en- Abime (Vol. 1) serise by irisbleufic

. Darkest little paradise by brightloveee

. Whatever remains must be the truth by maleikha

. Taste like a bad idea by foxrina66

All of which I highly recommend, but I need more!!!!!

I'm cool with cannon complient or 'what the hell is cannon' aus, but I would prefer Daniel to still be old & for it to be more bassed off the show then the books (though i don't mind if some details from the books are throw in).

The vampire gooba gang can be a little flirty with each other, but I don't want them to actually be a thorple (is that even a word?) So, like "experimentaion" is fine, but everyone needs to be clear where their hearts stand throughout (ie. Daniel with Armand & Lestat with Louie).

I would love austistic armand (regardless of if its relevant to the plot).

Happy Cludia, at least for a human au, would also greatly be appreciated (it's the least she deserves).

If Marius does show up. I want him to be hated. Like even if there might not be anything the characters can do to him physically (due to the difference in age & the great vampire laws bla bla). Naratively however? I want the author to never miss a chance to remind us what a loser that creep is. Even if Armand can't admit that what happened to him was wrong.

And Daniel & Louie's friendship. Coz, when they're written well, they're legitimately so cute & funny that it makes me almost wanna cry. Like they're just too old men stuck watching their peacock husbands try to out crazy each other & I am 100% here for it.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 13: The Fallacy of Power

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

TW: Astarion's past abuse under Cazador is mentioned/visited in this chapter.

She has been cold and withdrawn since their discussion when he refused to say what she wanted to hear. She avoids him if possible and ignores him unless he directly speaks to her. When she walks around the manor, she is like a phantom gliding, lifeless and vacant, the ghost of a ship long ago wrecked at sea that still wanders the waters wayward with no purpose. So far, he’s left her alone in her misery. Should he be trying to cheer her up? His heart tells him he should, but his head tells him it’s unbecoming of the Vampire Ascendant to postulate himself in such a way. He should not have to seek her attention. She should give it to him willingly. If she wishes to wallow in her desolation, so be it.

He’s missed her in their bed, against his skin, and on his lips. Her silence is as deep as demise and simultaneously deafening. He misses her laughter, happy giggles, and his name on her tongue in her sweet, musical voice. Hells, he would even take a scolding from her right now as long as she’s speaking and more expressive than this wall of dysphoria. He will take anything but this pale apparition of surrender and hopelessness. He’s tried to goad her into arguments if only to get a rise from her, but she does as he requests without question, challenge, or emotion.

She wants a real relationship, but what does that mean to him? What kind of relationship is he capable of giving her? That presence in his head bids him to control, claim, and make her belong to him with or without her consent. It encourages him to give the command to make it so. The Vampire Ascendant does not request love - he simply fucking takes it because he is entitled to it. He is entitled to have anything and everything he wants, including her.

No.

There his thoughts go again, getting away from him, towing him down like quicksand. He must be careful not to let himself be cast down that ungodly rabbit hole. He may not get the chance to surface. Astarion’s hands rack over his face and through his hair. He needs the physical sensation that often interrupts the slow descent into madness.

Astarion. He reminds himself. I am Astarion.

She does not acknowledge his presence when he enters the library. Her sullen eyes are moored to the book lying in her lap, and she flips the pages idly. She did not even bother to light any of the candles, scones or oil lamps. She sits in the shadows like a lone lily, white and fair, against a pond reflecting dusk.

He clears his throat to get her attention, “I need you to attend my business meeting with me today. It may put you in a position where you are… uncomfortable, but I will be there to protect and stop you if needed.”

She closes the book, staring straight vacantly, not bothering to look at him. Her voice is as whisper quiet as a catatonic echo, “You’re taking me to a business meeting?”

“Yes,” he replies softly, making his voice as warm as a summer day as if he could warm her with it. “I need my consort by my side.”

“I am not your consort, Astarion,” she shakes her head with a despondent expression. She is so cold it makes him shiver. He’s used to flames veritably leaping off her tongue when she speaks. This... He has never witnessed this in her, but he recognizes it. This is how he was when he all but gave up after a few lashings, “I will go with you if you need me, but I am not your consort.”

Please, don’t give up on me... just yet.

“If you do not like the word consort, that is fine,” he crouches and takes her hand. It remains limp, and she still does not look at him. Astarion gently cradles her cheek and walks her eyes to him. They seem to look through him instead of at him, and his heart seizes in his chest. “Tell me what you would prefer. Partner? Girlfriend? Soulmate? Bride? Hells, wife? Just tell me what you want me to say. Please.”

The words scour his tongue like steel wool. Can his spawn truly be his partner, girlfriend or… Good Gods, he said wife, didn’t he? Where in the Hells did that come from, and why does the notion fill him with genuine joy? Will he be able to see her as an equal? He is the Vampire Ascendant… No one is his equal, and no one could ever be. But he is also Astarion. Which him does he want to be? Does he even have a choice?

He stares at her, trying to discern how he views her. When he looks at her, does he see an equal? Or does he see his spawn, his puppet, his favourite little toy to play with? He views both versions in parallel spaces of his mind. He cannot ascertain which one is him and which is the Vampire Ascendant.

“Consort. Partner. Girlfriend. Soulmate. Bride. Wife,” she repeats hollowly as if she’s saying the words without thinking about them, just a recording being played back, “None of them because we are none of those.”

“Perhaps not yet,” he retorts with a plea clinging to his voice. “You said you want something real, and I agreed to try and give you just that. Let me try.”

“Are you capable of love,” she whispers, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re view of what love is may differ from mine, but perhaps we can meet in the middle?”

“When do we leave?” She asks dryly and slips her hand out of his, “And what do I wear?”

“I had something made for you,” he smirks. “It’s in your room. Wear it or don’t. The choice is yours.”

“You’re giving me a choice?”

"Darling," he drawls in an unemotional infection, “I admittedly do not know much about relationships, but I don’t think forcing you to wear something would be very… nice. You are free to dress yourself in whatever you wish.”

“What if I decide I wish to wear a burlap sack?”

“Well…” he cringes. Gods. He would not put it past her doing just that to prove a point. Would he let her do that? Could he? His skin crawls just thinking about it. “You would look very foolish, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”

Hells below, he hopes she does not wear a sack.

Truthfully, he does want to control what she wears, where she goes, and even how she does her hair and makeup, but he does not understand why he is so drawn to it. He does not recall feeling the need to be so controlling when he was a spawn. He must quell those desires and untoward thoughts if he has any hope of showing her that he can be what she wants and needs.

Because he needs her…

He’s almost afraid to look when she walks down the hall, scared she’s going to see if he truly means what he said, but he’s elated to see she decided to wear the ensemble he had fashioned. An extravagant, high-necked navy-blue robe with delicate golden lace sleeves and a bodice embellished with dragon wings with gleaming rose-gold scales to match hers.

His coat is very close, except it is raven black, inlaid with deep purple and golden embroidered dragons revolving around his arms. His chest is embellished with dragon wings expanding across the breast.

“Dragons?” Her hand glides down the breast of his coat, “I thought you were fonder of bats.”

“It seems I have become rather smitten with dragons as of late,” he winks. He feigns puzzlement, bringing his finger to his lips, “I wonder why.”

She gives him some semblance of a smile. It’s the first time he’s seen any emotion in days. It fades quickly, and her face is once again a smooth plane of vacancy.

“What do you mean I will be uncomfortable?” She mutters, eyes fixed straight ahead as if looking at him pains her like staring directly at the sun. “You promised you would not put me in a situation I cannot handle.”

“And I won’t. You have my word.” He bows slightly, “There will be people around. If you need to leave, you say the word, and we will go. You know I could compel you not to feel that hunger…”

She scowls at him and hisses, “Do it, and I will walk out that door. I will not return.”

Well, even anger is better than emptiness.

“It is just an offer,” he nods curtly with his hands up. “I would not do it without your expressed permission. Shall we go?”

You follow Astarion, twisting down alleys and paths in the Lower City. You refuse to hold his hand and are attempting to use pure willpower to ignore all the tasty citizens scurrying about. They smell good, and it’s making your mouth water. No matter how much you eat, bloodlust is insatiable, unquenchable and never fully slumbers. There’s always this stitch in your side and a dryness to your throat that will not ebb. When you smell blood, you are immediately starved, and your stomach pinches in your belly. It could easily send you into hysterics. Astarion always keeps a close eye, sticking by your side and matching your pace instead of his usual elongated strides.

You recognize the alley with the guards and the secret door, “The guild?”

“The very one,” he nods with a cunning smirk.

“Lord Ancunin,” the guard bows low and stiff. “I see you have brought a guest.”

“Lady Ancunin,” Astarion drawls, confident and poised. If your heart was beating, it would surely have skipped beats and possibly stopped. “She is to be treated with the same respect as I. You are to follow her orders as you would follow mine. Is that clear?”

“So you command, so shall it be,” the guard bows low before you. “Lady Ancunin.”

You stare detached past the guard, barely noticing the reverent display before you. A welcome numbness has incorporated itself into your psyche. You felt so much, and now you feel nothing. You’re not sure which is worse.

“Come,” Astarion gestures to the stairs.

The Guildhall has been rebuilt with more extravagance. The walkways are now properly constructed and far less shabby looking with richly coloured wood. It is organized, not the haphazard mess you remember. There are so many hearts beating the chant of life. Their blood smells like Elysian fields teeming with ichor blossoms. Pressing your eyes shut, you try to tune out the thump, thump, thump assaulting your ears. You clutch Astarion’s hand and squeeze as hard as you can.

Yes, this will be a challenge.

Astarion senses your apprehension and squeezes your hand reassuringly, “We can leave whenever you want. I do not have to be here long.”

“You operate the Guild now?”

“Yes and no,” he grins, devilish and handsome enough to make you melt despite your discomfort. “Nine Fingers still handles the mundane day-to-day. You know I have never been a details person.”

“How did this come about?”

“Simple,” he smiles wolfish and sly. His eyes glint mischievously. “If you know the right people to coerce, anything can be taken. Grease a few palms here, blackmail some merchants there. You know how it is.”

“Coerce or kill?”

“Well, negotiations don’t always go as planned,” he chuckles with a cavalier shrug. “But I do not go around killing everyone, just those who need killing anyway. Gods. What do you think of me? I’ve been manipulating people for 200 years. This was hardly a challenge.”

“Ah, Lord Ancunin,” Nine Fingers strides up with a tight look as if she’s working hard not to frown. “How nice of you to bless us with your presence. I do not believe we have a meeting scheduled for today.”

“I’m here to make sure you’re running my,” Astarion accentuates the word with a low, threatening growl, “Guild befittingly. I received reports of your idiot pickpockets getting caught by the authorities and inconsistent yields. Do I need to appoint someone more suitable for such a role?”

“Lord Ancunin,” Nine Fingers snickers, and you wonder how he hasn’t killed this one yet. She was always snarky. “The pickpockets have been dealt with. They did not even make it to prison. As for the yields, I’m looking into it. You will not find anyone more proficient at running your guild than I.”

Astarion and Nine Fingers continue to talk business. Boring. You walk away, down the stairs and watch the people flitting about, ledgers in hand, counting shipments of what looks like silk from Cormyr and imported liquor. Others with clearly stolen pieces of art and other antiquities. The bottom of that cesspool pit has been cleaned up, and it appears new tunnels have been put in place, with more still being constructed.

You catch bits and pieces of a conversation between a short, rotund man in a burgundy coat speaking about a shipment being lost or damaged. Leaning on a railing, you watch the conversation play out with a shrewd eye for a while before you make your way over there. The closer you get to people, the harder it is to control yourself, but you’re getting better.

You sit close to the conversation so you can listen and watch. Nine Fingers sits beside you, “I remember you. Jaheria’s friend, right?” she gives you a scrutinizing once over and then her eyes finally settle on yours. “I remember you being much more… alive the last time you were here. The lords doing, I presume.”

“I wanted it,” you growl through your clenched jaw. “There is nothing further to discuss on it.”

“I’ve seen his little compulsion trick,” she says sourly. “It’s not a stretch to believe-“

You cut her off by grabbing her by the neck and pushing her up against a support beam. The rhythmical pulsing of her vein is felt on the pads of your fingers. Good Gods, you are tempted to take a nibble. Just a little sip...

No. You throw her away from you before you lose your precarious control.

“Watch your tongue,” you snarl, baring your teeth. “I am just as deadly as the lord.”

“Deadlier even.” Astarion chuckles, leaning close to your ear, “Are you okay?”

“I’m managing…” you whisper. Raising your voice, you point to the man, “Who is that?”

“A local merchant. He caters to the aristocracy.” Astarion arches a brow, “Why?”

“You were talking about inconsistent yields,” you watch the man circumspective, who now stares at you wide-eyed. “I think you will find he is the reason for some or all of your inconsistencies.” You sneer at the little fleshy liar, “Won’t we?"

“No,” Nine Fingers interjects. “That can’t be. He’s been working with the Guild for many years and is well-known and respected by the patriars. He’s an invaluable asset.”

“Silence!” Astarion orders brusquely, making her flinch. “Your superiors are having a discussion.” Astarion’s fingers come to his chin. “Go on, darling. How do you know?”

“His speech pattern is all over the place. He does not make direct eye contact. He’s fidgeting nervously. I can hear his heartbeat kick up from here every time he has to alter his story, and he’s sweating like a pig,” you smirk. You are good at this, and it feels natural. You give the man a grin as you virtually hear his heart sink, “You are a terrible liar. I think you’ve picked the wrong business.”

“Well,” Astarion cocks his head while watching the man as sweat rains down his face, “Let’s find out, shall we?” He points at the rotund traitor, “You. Come here.”

“Y-yes, Lord Ancunin.”

Astarion hauls the man into the air by his coat with an eerily cordial smile, “You’ve been stealing from me. Come clean now, and I will consider allowing you to keep your pathetic life.”

You expected to hear the anger in Astarion’s voice, but it’s matter-of-fact and impassive.

“My lord,” the man’s eyes widen, and his feet kick uselessly in the air. “I would never dream of it. Honest!”

Astarion’s eyes glow that wicked crimson of compulsion, and he brings the man close to his face, “You will tell me the truth. How long have you been stealing?”

The man’s eyes become glossy as the red tendrils of compulsion twist around him and into his mind. His body becomes limp. “I will tell the truth.” He repeats hollowly. “I have been skimming off the top for years. I misconstrue reported earnings and inventory, record shipments as lost or damaged and keep them for myself.”

The man continues spewing his transgressions, and you can see the rage start building in Astarion.

“That wasn’t so hard. Was it?” Astarion smiles manically. His eyes start to flash as he draws his dagger.

You put your hand on his shoulder, “Astarion…” You soothe and request the connection with his mind. You do not want to undermine him, but you need him to stay in control. He opens it, and you wince at the pain that splits through your head. It feels as if your skull has been cracked open. You push through it and roll your thoughts over the bridge, “His death will not gain you anything, Astarion. Hold onto yourself.”

His muscles strain under your fingers, and sweat starts to sheen his skin, but he answers in your thoughts, “His death would serve as a reminder to these insolent fucks that no one betrays the Vampire Ascendant and lives.”

“Astarion, please.”

“I am the Vampire Ascendant!” He bellows in your head so hard you wonder if your ears are bleeding, leaking your brain matter.

“Is that all you are? Is that your entire identity?”

He growls viciously aloud, snarling and turning his head to look at you with violence humming in his flickering eyes. With a pained grunt, Astarion throws the man on the ground and hisses, “Leave. If I ever see you in my city again, I will kill you and your family.”

Astarion whirls, taking your chin roughly in his fingers, bringing his mouth to yours, savage and hungry, with enough force to split and bruise your lips. You can hear that tittering in his head, straining against his control, trying to claim him. It bites like a serrated blade at your mind, and Astarion tries to close the connection to save you from that pain, but you rue against it.

“Don’t,” you think. “I can be your light. I can help you, but you have to let me.”

His fingers curl into your hair, and his tongue laps at the blood smeared across your lips, sucking on the cut gently. Your fingers caress the back of his neck. You’re not exactly sure how you do it, but as if on instinct, you flood Astarion with every iota of your love, light and fire into his psyche, upending the darkness and silencing his demons.

His body relaxes. His fingers no longer grip aggressively but embrace, and he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as he pants. As your senses return to you, so does the angelic chorus of beating hearts and the enticing smell of blood, and you clench your jaw as your stomach does cartwheels in your abdomen. Your fingernails incise your palm.

“I’ve got you, my treasure.” Astarion interlocks his fingers with yours to stop you. “Hold onto me.”

Astarion turns to Nine Fingers. She’s staring at you with a speculatively arched brow, “We will be taking our leave now. I expect to see improved totals on your subsequent report, or we will have a very unpleasant discussion, and if any more pickpockets get caught, you will not be calling yourself Nine Fingers any longer. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Lord Ancunin,” she nods curtly with a twisted mouth and narrowed eyes. “Do bring your spawn along more often. She is incredibly useful, it seems.”

Astarion roars, slamming Nine Fingers against a wooden column, splitting it. He bellows when he speaks, making sure everyone can hear him, “No one is to call her “spawn.” If I hear anyone utter that word in reference to her, I will hang them from the rafters by their intestines while they still draw breath.” Astarion looks around with a frightening scowl, verifying everyone is paying attention, “She is my right hand, and you will treat her with due respect. Any orders from her should be treated as if they are coming from me directly.”

“Astarion,” you whimper, scratching lacerations into the top of your hand to keep yourself grounded. “I need to go.”

He releases Nine Fingers, spins and grabs your hand. He keeps a tight hold on you until you’re back in the alley. He orders the guards to stand further away. You sprint to the dead end and grip a fence as hard as you can, taking in large gasps of air to try and quiet the bloodlust ravaging your mind, bullying you into mania. Astarion’s hands come to the rail on either side of you, caging you in with his chest pressed against your back.

“You did well in there,” he purrs. “Controlling the bloodlust.”

“You could have warned me that I would want to eat everyone with a beating heart,” you groan, leaning into him.

“I suppose I could have been a tad more forthcoming,” he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “To be fair, I was a young spawn centuries ago. It’s not exactly fresh in my mind.”

“How did you learn to control it?” you sigh. You’re falling into him again, slipping into that blissful completeness that melts that icy numbness keeping you sane.

There’s a quiver of torment that dithers across the harmony. “Cazador…” he starts, spoken with a desolate undertone. He folds his arms around you, holding you close, and he trembles, “Cazador would starve me and then have people stand in the kennels while I was chained or caged. He would cut them, small at first, but gradually worse. They would get progressively closer. If I made a move or lost control in any way, I would be punished. Severely.” He pauses with a sigh, and his brows turn down at the sides. “I lost control a lot.”

By the Gods. You would not have been able to understand how torturous that would be without being a vampire yourself. Bloodlust hurts, a physical pain that progressively gets steadily worse until you are nothing but a writhing, rabid animal with no semblance of sentience.

“Astarion…” you turn to him, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s… Gods, there are no words. I’m so sorry.”

“Come,” he clears his throat, uncomfortable with the emotion as if he does not believe he deserves your empathy. “Let’s go home.”

“Thank you for telling me.” You murmur, hoping you’re not overstepping, “About… him. I know you don’t like to talk about it.”

“Partners talk about this type of stuff openly, yes?”

“I…” you balk at the question. It seems so out of character for him. You expected him to ignore you or scold you for bringing it up further. “I suppose they do, but-“

“Yes,” he cuts you off. “I know what we aren’t. You keep reminding me every chance you get. You requested real and real you shall have. I never wanted you to see that side of me.” Astarion sighs and looks at the setting sun reverently, his face softening, a glimpse of his former self, “Cazador is no longer an off-limits topic for you.”

What?

Can you trust him not to fly into a blind rage when you speak of his former self, the pathetic spawn he is so genuinely disgusted with? Perhaps this is not the time to test the limits of this newfound freedom.

“Lady Ancunin?” You quirk a brow at him. “That’s not my name.”

“Not as of yet, it’s not,” his arm wraps around your waist, and a smile flashes over his face like wintry sunshine. He whispers, “You bear my name beautifully, my love.”

Your eyelashes flutter open, and you’re shocked to be in the familiar halls of the Crimson Palace, but it does not appear as you remember it. Everything is washed in a drab sepia tone, and you blink, trying to clear your vision. The walls and floors appear to wave as if they are an illusion. Servants blink in and out of existence as they flit around. You try to walk in the way of them, waving your arms to get their attention, but they pay you no heed, blinking out and reappearing behind you.

A scream you would recognize anywhere reverberates through the ghostly halls, shrill and bone-chilling.

Astarion…

You sprint toward the sound, descending the dark staircase two or three steps at a time that appears to end in a black well of nothingness. You’re trying to grip the weave and call on your magic, but when you reach for it, you find nothing but a yawning void where it should be. Staring at your palm, you shake it, confused, as you burst into the hall leading to the spawn quarters. Another cry echoes. You forget about your lack of magic as horror grips your heart, and you sprint around the corner and halt dead in your tracks.

Astarion stands in the hallway. He’s hunched over with hands pressed against the doorframe as he stares distantly into the room before him - the kennels. He is the only thing in undulled, vivid colour. It’s a stark contrast to the atmosphere of mousy undertones.

“Astarion?”

He jolts, whirling and staring at you with a disoriented tangle of sorrow and perplexity. His jaw tightens, and his eyes shift quickly from side to side, “No,” he mutters, shaking his head, “No, this isn’t right. You would not have been here.”

“What’s going on?” You sputter, voice breaking. “I don’t understand.”

Another strident shriek. You are stirred into action, dashing down the hall at full speed. Astarion’s eyes widen as he gauges your target, and he takes long steps to cut you off. His arm wraps around your waist, hauling you backward from the open doorway.

“No, darling,” he coos, trying to swath his voice in velvet. “You don’t want to go in there. Please, trust me on this.”

“What?” You’re panicked, clawing at him, trying to push his arms away. “I can’t just stand here! Let me go!”

“You can’t help him… Me. You can’t help me.” Astarion rasps. His eyes are sad, but he tries to smile. “This is long over and done. It’s a memory - my memory.”

Anguished wailing reverberates, making the walls appear to shudder. You can’t take it, you can’t fucking take it, and you push out of Astarion’s arms and charge into the kennels.

The scene that greets you makes tears instantly flow down your cheeks, and you can’t help but dry heave as your stomach shoots into your throat.

“That’s right, my boy.” Cazador snickers, compulsion glowing in his eyes, tendrils stirring the air. “Sing those sweet, sweet cries for me.”

You try to grab Cazador, screaming in anguish, but your hand swishes straight through the apparition. Arms come around your waist, hauling you up and out of the room while you reach and clamber, trying to do something. Anything.

Astarion sets you down, folding his arms around you, “Shhh, little love,” he purrs. “It will be alright.”

“Astarion,” you sob, knees quaking. Astarion braces you against himself, “What in the Hells is happening?”

“I’m not entirely sure. We are tranced, in the manor, I think. This... it already happened long ago. So long, I cannot even recall the colours anymore.”

His thumb clears the rivulets of tears storming down your cheeks so sweetly, like the whisper of a fairy dream. His eyes, so intensely crimson, are doting, inviting you to get lost in them.

Another soul-crushing outcry discharges from the room, and you can’t help but scream with him. Astarion firmly but gently places his hands over your ears, trying to provide you amnesty from the howling cries.

You lean into him and beg, tugging on his clothes, “Make it stop, Astarion. Good Gods. Make it stop. Please. I can’t… I can’t… Wake us up.”

“I’m trying,” he breathes faintly, pressing harder on your ears as another jarring yowl rolls over you, and you start slipping to the floor in a puddle of sorrow.

Everything dissolves around you, turning black and silent, and you’re pitched into a bottomless void that makes your stomach lurch.

You thrash in your bed, convulsing so violently that you throw yourself to your hands and knees on the floor with a discordant shriek. Your bedsheets and clothes are soddened with sweat, the delicate fabric clinging to your body, and you tremble so turbulently that you can barely push yourself to your feet.

You blink rapidly, trying to see through the distortion caused by unshed tears. Your chest heaves in quick, rapid breaths as you sprint into the hallway. Astarion is already running toward you, and you slam into his arms as your legs give way.

“It’s okay,” he comforts you with a soft, deep baritone, a salve to your pain. “Everything is alright.”

Your mind sees that gruesome vision, a ghostly layer veiling the man before you. Your stomach twists and knots. Saliva floods your mouth. Pushing out of his hold, you scramble away as far as you can, and your liquid dinner is a sanguine spill spreading across the floor. Astarion holds your hair back and rubs your back as you continue to dry heave between your rapid breaths.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs.

“It is I who should be sorry,” he sits on the chaise, beckoning you into his arms. You curl up in his lap once the wave of nausea eases, desperate to be close to him. Astarion strokes your arm, “I left the connection open. I did not know you could get transported into my dreams. I will not make that mistake again.”

You look up, cupping his cheek in your palm and searching his eyes. That beautiful face is calm and carpeted with earnest affection but otherwise unfazed while he sweeps strands of your hair behind your ear, “Are you okay?”

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he kisses your palm. “I have relived many of my memories hundreds of times over. There are only a few that truly disturb me anymore. Thank you for asking, but I am fine.”

“Okay...” you breathe deeply, unsure if your mind can accept how undaunted he is. The last remnants of your weeping shudder through your body, “I’ll clean that up.”

Pushing yourself away from him is a monumental task. He is warm like sunshine and comforting like darkness. You hate him a little for being so… him.

“Will you come to bed?” Astarion looks at you longingly. “ Our bed, I mean.”

“No.”

“When are you going to stop punishing me?” He laments, following you while you grab a rag and bucket of soapy water from the rarely used kitchen.

“I’m not punishing you for anything, Astarion.”

“Bullshit.” He exclaims sourly. “Do not think me blind. You’ve been ignoring and avoiding me purposefully. I- I miss you.” Astarion’s arms fall limp at this side, “Tell me how to make it right.”

You hand Astarion a cup, “Break this.”

His brows pinch as he turns the cup over and over. He looks at you, confused, but throws it to the floor, shattering it. “What was the point of that?”

“Now, fix it.”

“I have many mind-blowing abilities,” he stares at the shattered pieces strewn across the floor, brows pinched. “Fixing broken goblets is not one of them.”

“Because not everything can be fixed."

You start wiping up your sick in the tense muteness between you and Astarion. He sits on the chaise, just watching with a grief-stricken expression that makes you want to weep.

“I can run up walls, walk upside down on ceilings, turn into a bat and mist, among other things. All this power…” A low laugh rumbles in his chest, crestfallen and mournful. “All this fucking power,” he clenches his fists, craning his head to look up at the ceiling, “and I still cannot have the one thing in the world I want most.” He sighs, shaking his head. Astarion cocks his head to look at you and smiles bleakly, “Sleep tight, my love.”

Astarion disappears into his room, and you bite your tongue to stifle your crying. After you’ve finished cleaning up and are back in your bed, you toss restlessly. How long will this harrowing purgatory go on? You take deep breaths, but it does not even begin to fill the void in your chest. You are fragmented without him in your head or against your skin. As if you’re soul has deformed, warped and splintered into a mangled husk.

This is why you’ve been avoiding Astarion. His words tear your heart open, dissect it, and then you must stitch yourself up anew. How many times can your chest be torn open and your heart ripped to pieces before the scarps are too small to glue back together?

I don’t care.

I don’t care.

I don’t care.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

In the hall, you jump at the sight of Astarion halfway up the long corridor. He halts, and you stare at each other in reticence. His hair is a disarrayed jumble of soft silver curls. The moonlight streaming in from the windows brilliantly sets the ivory skin of his bared chest aglow. His shoulders are slumped in a disconsolate stature you’re not used to seeing on him. The iron countenance and steely confidence he oozes are absent.

“Love,” he whispers wearily. “Lay with me tonight.” Astarion gestures toward himself, splaying his hand on his bare chest. Desperation clings to his voice, “Be with me. We can workshop the details as we go.”

“Tell me you love me,” you say, moon-eyed, lips quivering.

“I-I,” he pauses. Anticipation clenches your heart in your chest. Please, you think, please just fucking say it so we can stop playing this game. You think he just might until he grimaces. “I can’t.”

“No. Of course, you can’t,” you mewl. You wrap yourself in your comfortable cloak of numbness to preserve your sanity, “Because how could you love a lowly spawn like my good self?”

He does not answer, and that is answer enough.

You’re crouched low in a dark alley, skulking around in the shadows in the Lower City. Astarion went out to deal with some business you were not invited to, so you’ve taken the chance to survey the tavern you last saw that purple-haired bitch at - Elowyn. Your intuition tells you she has something to do with the Gur attacks, regardless of Astarion’s assurances that she’s harmless. The earth-shatteringly handsome man can be blinded by his overconfidence at times.

You’re not sure what Astarion will do if he gets home and you’re nowhere to be found, but you left him a note saying you went for a walk. He probably won’t tear the city apart looking for you. You’re not a caged bird. You can come and go as you please.

... Right?

You’re about to give up for the night when you see her. She glances out the tavern doors, askant, surveying her surroundings before pulling up her hood and slinking down the street. Elowyn takes an oddly winding route, up and down dark alleys and paths, often doubling back. She strolls confidently but takes acute notice of her surroundings. She is practiced and methodical in the way she observes. You should have eaten her when she cornered you with her singsong voice and dainty little face, spewing filth and lies. Maybe you should eat her now…

No, no. You can eat her after you figure out what she’s up to. You smile sadistically at the promise to yourself, licking your lips. You will eat her when you’ve ascertained how she means to harm your master.

Gods. Where did that thought come from?

Elowyn turns abruptly down a side street. Casting Misty Step, you appear on a roof, crouch at the edge and watch her intently. She walks up and down the pathway, looking in all directions except up, much to your delight.

Hardly anyone looks up.

She leans down and opens the entrance to the sewers, climbing down and replacing the cover. The sewers… You fucking hate the sewers. It’s the last place you want to follow her, but nothing can deter you.

This place is a maze of tunnels and run-offs. It’s an arduous task to track her with any degree of certainty. The rayless, glum passageways look similar, but you glimpse her here and there. Her course is consistent with the streets above as she makes arbitrary turns left and right, retracing her steps before continuing. It makes you question if she spotted you and is just taking you on a wild goose chase for shits and giggles, but it’s doubtful. There is purpose in Elowyn’s steps, even if you’re not quite able to understand it yet.

Elowyn steps onto the wooden platform, pulls the lever, and floats up the nauseating river of excrement and contamination. You recognize the area she is going to by smell alone. She’s heading into the lowest floors of the ruined temple under the Crimson Palace. You frown. You’ve been all through those lower, ravaged corridors.

You used to try and hide from Astarion down there, but he always found you. You shudder at the memories of playing some sick, twisted version of hide and seek, where the consequences were more dire than being tagged “it.”

What could be down there that’s of any interest to her? Does Astarion know? Is that where he set the Drow up to do her assessments? Unlikely. He would not want Araj that close to home.

There’s a barely perceptible shift in the atmosphere. The chilled air starts to warm unnaturally, embers floating around. Your skin prickles as the hair on the back of your neck and arms rises. You smell the smoky stench and pollution of sulphur crawling through the air. It stings your nostrils, twisting in the back of your nose and down your throat, choking you. A liquid black maw opens in the stone before your feet, and the inky, viscid silhouette emerges from the gaping orifice, taking shape and wings stretching with a boastful flare.

You jump backward, filling yourself with the Weave, heating your palms and skin with spells dancing on your fingertips and primed on your tongue.

“Darling,” a toothy grin greets you. “Now, now, Sorceress. Put those spells of yours to rest. Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Mizora.”  

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

It's never a good sign when Mizora shows up. We are getting into the thick of it now :)

[skyoaticofficial]

I do in fact enjoy puppet x human, it’s very silly to think about. It reminds me of Who Framed Roger Rabbit., so I drew Human!Daley as Jessica Rabbit, I think it’s very fitting!

Also a quick redraw of a drawing I did last year of my vampire!Wally, not yet introduced!

🍎🥧

[xxinkys-ocsxx]

First post on Tumbler! ^^

Hiya! I'm Inky! This is my introduction post, and at the time of posting, this is my first post on tumblr! but definitely not my first time on tumbler lol (I have a alt acc on my laptop)

(just a random reminder that this blog will include oc x cannon, if you don't like that stuff please be respectful ignore my blog and proshipers, ped0s, homophobes, racist, zoophiles etc, dni with me or my blog.)

I'm probably going to be posting art and POSSIBLY writing some oc x cannon/x reader fics on here because yass👏👏Anyway here's just a summary of me but as one of my ocs profiles loll

Name: Inky

Nickname: Inks

Gender: Cis female

pronouns:she/her

Species: Little sona gal

Nationality: England☕

Fandoms I'm in:

A:

Arcane

Animal crossing

B:

Bluey!

BEASTARS

Beetlejuice

Bendy and the ink machine

Black butler

C:

Circus of wishes

Cuphead

casino cups

Charlie the union

Chicken nugget

D:

Demon slayer

Deadpoll

Dark deception

Dhmis

E:

ENA

epithet erased

EYES ARG

F:

Fanf

Ferngully

Far fetched

F.r.i.e.n.d.s

G:

Glitter force

Garten of ban ban

Generation loss

GURBY

Guardians of the Galaxy

Gacha

Gravity falls

H:

Hazbin hotel

Helluva boss

Heart of Titans

Heathers

Hamilton

Heart stopper

Hotel transylvania

Harry Potter

Hilda

I:

Indgo park

J:- none yet-

K:

Komi can't communicate

L:

Lackadaisy

Lamas in hats

Little nightmares

Little misfortune

M:

Murder drones

Metal family

Mean girls

My little powny

My friendly neighbourhood

Mario

Monkey wrench

N:- none yet-

O:

One piece

Obay me!

P:

popee the performer

Perfect husbands

Poppy playtime

Portals

Purcy Jackson

Q: - none yet-

R:

Royal high

Ramshackle

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

Rise of the guardians

S:

SpyXfamily

Spooky month

Sam and max

Sad ghost club

Skylanders

T:

The amazing digital circus

Tokyo ghoul

Toilet bound Haiko-kun

U: - none yet-

V:

Vampire series

Villainous

W:

Welcome home

Who framed Roger rabbit?

Wimpy witch

X: - none yet-

Y: - none yet-

Z:

Zipped up

There are probably SOOOO meny more I just can't think of rn :/

But yeah! That's me! Expect to see lots of art, mostly oc x cannon

I'm excited to start posting, until then bye!!

[cyberchronics]

・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

vampire choso 😵‍💫😵‍💫 omggg

♥︎ ngl saw @/rice5x's vamp gojo post and it made me start thinking about jjk men as vampires... shoutout to them ♥︎

★ choso is kinda creepy, reader is here for it, feeding, blood, written way more sexual than it is ★

✩∘₊ ✩*✯☆⃟⃟⃟✯*✩₊∘✩

choso is definitely the reserved type of vampire... staying in an old house in the middle of the woods, living off whatever animals come by both because of how antisocial he is and out of the desire not to hurt anyone.

it's not hard to imagine his struggle when you stumble by his home. clothes drenched, thin coat doing a terrible job of keeping you warm... what kind of monster wouldn't have taken you in for the night? certainly not this one.

it's absolute torture trying to control himself. he can hear your blood as it streams through your body, the rapid pace of your heart slowing as he serves you a warm cup of tea. it's been ages since the last time he's so much as seen another person, let alone someone as pleasant as you. you're so tantalizing without even trying, making his fangs sink into his lip and draw deep red blood.

he's not gonna hold up much longer.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

Choso can't help how weird he's being. His instincts are starting to take over for the first time in forever, carnal urges telling him to stop watching as you relax on his old couch and go in for the kill. His sensitive nose twitches as it picks up the subtle scent of your sweet blood, nails digging into his arm and drawing red lines. He has to distract himself from the desire to listen to them, and find something else to focus his energy on.

For a while his mission is successful as he holes himself up in the bathroom, patching up his clawed-up arms and sneaking to the kitchen to grab one of the various packs of blood stuffed in the bottom drawer of the fridge. No matter how much Choso drinks it's not enough, the bland taste of rabbit and deer is almost unpalatable compared to the nectar he knows is right beneath your supple skin. Maybe... a little taste wouldn't hurt?

That's right. He has enough sense to not suck you dry right now, so one or two sips will be enough to quell his growing hunger. He should take care of it now instead of letting himself fester fully into a bloodthirsty animal. At least, that's what Choso tells himself as he creeps towards your snoozing form, crouching down slightly and poking your cheek to test how deep your sleep is. When you show no reaction, he quiets his nerves and grabs your wrists gently.

There's a moment of stillness as he admires your wrists, licking the soft flesh to prepare it and lining his fangs up with your veins. He takes a deep breath, whispering to himself one last reminder not to go overboard, before sinking in slowly. The taste is better than he could've imagined. Sweetness and slight tang meld together into a delectable syrup that lingers on his tongue. He moans at the sensation, loud and erotic despite his urge to stay quiet.

Choso's brain melts and his sensors cross as the simple pleasure of this moment takes over his entire body. His ears feel as if they're on fire as he drinks slowly, thighs rubbing together unconsciously as he revels in it all. What a spectacular experience.

Reluctantly, he prys himself away from your arm, lapping up the leftover blood that follows his fangs. Choso takes a minute to catch his breath, coming down from the exhilarating high and looking up— only to be met with shining eyes. His own turn into saucers as he begins to trip over his words, starting his desperate attempt to explain himself and apologize, only to be shushed by you. A look of confusion is cast your way as you sit up, simply rolling up your sleeve and offering your arm to him.

"You can't be satisfied with that." Your voice is borderline angelic as you give him a sweet smile, embracing this side of him instead of pushing him away or running off. What the hell did he do to deserve this? "I can handle it. Get your fill."

Who is he to deny your offer when you ask so eagerly?

・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: this is definitely gonna be a series... please leave other vamp characters u wanna see :3 next post will probably be gojo fic pt 2 then some ratio crumbs for hsr fans

[sol-consort]

So you know that “love biting” thing humans sometimes do? I’m imagining a non humans reaction to getting bit for the first time by their human friend or lover, they put their hand a little too close to the humans mouth and the primal comping urges triggered in the human. “Dude, wtf, why did you bite me?” And the humans just looking at them like 🥰

(Looking it up, the love biting seems to be an expression of cute or love aggression)

all fun and games until a turian/prothean/krogan decides to playfully bite back, and now the marks of their teeth are permanently engraved into your skin for eternity

Otherwise, yeah, munch munch munch! Even with our pets, we love pretending like we're going to eat/bite them, taking a chomp of air and puffing our cheeks as if we just took a bite from their fluffy fur/feathers

Our teeth aren't that sharp either, with only 4 semi-pointy canines, the rest are relatively blunt enough to run our tongue against, press into others without breaking the skin and give playful bites without worry about causing any actual injuries.

The rest of the species?

Only the salarian and angara seem...safe-ish to get bitten by. Asari appear—to us at least—to have the same skull and jaw structure of a human, they should have the same teeth.

Angara teeth remind me of rabbits for some reason, kinda cute. Or cats teeth minus the canines? I wonder if they don't have them or if they're simply just hidden.

Prothean teeth scare me, man. idk what's going on in there. Why is every incisor double-sided and growing sideways–why are the canines so pointy and long like a vampire.

A single krogan tooth is probably the size of your three middle fingers combined. And those are front teeth, god knows how big the back molars are.

Don't even get me started on turians, oh my god, those are legit razorblades.

The winners of "the worst species for a human to get bitten by" competition are:

The vorcha.

[feudalconnection]

The Nomination Period for the 3rd Term 2024 Inuyasha Fandom Awards is now CLOSED!!

Hey everyone!

Below the cut you'll find a complete list of all of the Fanfiction nominations received for this term! You can also find it on Google Docs.

Click here for the complete list of Fanart nominations.

Thank you to everyone who participated in this term for taking the time to do so. We hope you enjoyed your experience! If you do not see your nomination, please reach out to us as soon as possible!

We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a review to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!

As a reminder, we are giving 3 weeks time to enjoy all of the creations. The voting period will begin October 6th and end October 20th.

In order to be able to vote, you'll need to register so we can keep it all neat and clear. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.

Got a question? Check out our FAQ or send us an ask. You can also message one of the mods directly!

Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this 3rd Term absolutely wonderful, and happy voting!

Best Action/Adventure

"Nowhere With You" by Langus (AO3)

"Dear Sesshoumaru" by @ladydanitar

"In the Blood" by @dawnrider

"Wild Rabbit Chase" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3)

Best Alternate Universe/Reality

"Palmistry" by @classysassy9791

"Sense and Sensibility, An Inuyasha Retelling" by @ruddcatha

"i beg of you" by @thegoldenappleofdiscord / feudalreesespieces (AO3)

"What Happens in Vegas" by @rainandyarn

"It takes a friend to open your eyes" by @ruddcatha

"The Merrier" by TheMondayChild (AO3)

Best Canon Universe

"Whatever It Takes" by Emmyyasha (AO3)

"Sesshomaru: A Feudal Fairy Tale" by @acb6293

"Love Language" by @shikonstar

"Wishful" by @rileyoe1

"what she doesn't want" by @ssukidesu

"Without Regret" by PrettyWoofEars (AO3)

Best Angst

"Sacrifices" by @elkonigin

"Legacy" by @fandomobsessions016

"Held Up in the Rain" by @mrfeenysmustache / AshMish111 (AO3)

"Still a Fan" by TheMondayChild (AO3)

"Don't Buy Me Flowers" by ShyGuyVi (AO3)

Best Dark

"Lest the Past Haunts Me" by mauigurl808 (FFN)

"Legacy" by @fandomobsessions016

"Panic Mode" by @mitsiepitsie-blog

"Still a Fan" by TheMondayChild (AO3)

"Gilded Cage" by WickedNonProfitWhoreganization (AO3)

"Broken" by @my-inukag-fanfiction / InuKaglover69 (AO3)

"vampire empire, baby doll" by @lutelyre

Best Drama

"We Can't Be Friends" by Red_Spiderliliy (AO3)

"Inevitable" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3)

"Many Glowing Moons" by Woodrosia (AO3)

"Smoke and Mirrors" by flamethemightydragon (AO3)

"Nowhere With You" by Langus (AO3)

Best Humor/Parody

"Hack" by @timetravellingpaperbag

"the yakuza boyfriend" by @thegoldenappleofdiscord / feudalreesespieces (AO3)

"Sesshomaru Mer-made a Mistake" by @flowingsakura

"Wishful Chaos" by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

"Breaking the Ice" by @pipistrellee / Pipistrellus (AO3)

Best NSFW

"Here With You" by SomeKndOfNature (AO3)

"Many Glowing Moons" by Woodrosia (AO3)

"Daddy, Please" by @fawn-eyed-girl

"What Happens in Vegas" by @rainandyarn

"The Office Party" by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

"Satisfied" by @sereia1313

"Hot for Teacher" by LianaDawn (AO3)

Best One-Shot

"Whatever it Takes" by Emmyyasha (AO3)

"i beg of you" by @thegoldenappleofdiscord / feudalreesespieces (AO3)

"Pray miko, beg..." by Catzchen (AO3)

"The Office Party" by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

"you, I thought I knew you" by DrPearlGatsby (AO3)

Best Character Portrayal

"Sacrifices" (Inuyasha) by @elkonigin

"Dear Sesshoumaru" (Sesshomaru) by @ladydanitar

"Wishful Chaos" (Inuyasha) by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

"A Memory of Red Flame" (Sota) by @artistefish

"A Fleeting Moment" (Kaede) by Simply_ivy (AO3)

Best InuKag Romance

"Inevitable" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3)

"Here With You" by SomeKndOfNature (AO3)

"In the Blood" by @dawnrider

"My Brother's Bestfriend" by @keichanz

Best MirSan Romance

"More Than Enough" by @serial-doubters-club / hakomorebi (AO3)

"Sense and Sensibility, An Inuyasha Retelling" by @ruddcatha

"An Auspicious Fortune" by @fawn-eyed-girl

"Scars" by @skyelara

Best Romance

"time will tell" by @savethelastdan / Shespitsfire (AO3)

"For the Dancing and the Dreaming" by @flowingsakura

"Our Special Love" by @jeremymarsh

"Red" by @sagemcmae

"This is Unnecessary" by @jewel-shard

Best Fluff

"Home" by @witchygirl99

"Riding my Professor" by ValentineHeart14 (AO3)

"Boyfriend's Hoodie" by @classysassy9791

"Love Language" by @shikonstar

"Peony For Your Thoughts" by @sereia1313

Best Serial

"Hanyou Holidays" by @dawnrider

"Firsts" by @soliska / Evilillusions (AO3)

"Beneath Goshinboku" by Ldesu (AO3)

"Spiritual" by @rileyoe1

"This Is How I Show You" by @minakok

"Your Place or Mine?" by LianaDawn (AO3)

Best Ficlet

"From the Brink" by @serial-doubters-club / hakomorebi (AO3)

"The Western Lord's Dilemma" by @theshipthatgotaway / SimpforSessKag (the_ship_that_got_away) (AO3)

"Boyfriend's Hoodie" by @classysassy9791

"Shippo's Wish" by @heynikkiyousofine

Best Friendship Portrayal

"Hachi the Raccoon-Dog" (Hachi & Inuyasha) by @jewel-shard

"The Inquizition" (Miroku & Inuyasha) by @kstewdeux

"Coterie" (Miroku & Inuyasha) by @elkonigin

"Prayer Hands wear Cursed Gloves" (Miroku & Kagome) by @mrfeenysmustache / AshMish111 (AO3)

Best Completed

"Hack" by @timetravellingpaperbag

"Held Up in the Rain" by @mrfeenysmustache / AshMish111 (AO3)

"Nuts About You" by @shikonstar

[ecargmura]

Wind Breaker Episode 9 Review - Dr. Umemiya's Physical Therapy Session

I thought this was a delinquent anime. Why am I watching Dr. Hajime Umemiya performing physical therapy on Choji? I hope Shishitoren pays Umemiya a hefty amount for this therapy session because Choji made his problems everyone else’s.

There might be people disappointed about the outcome of this long awaited fight, but remember that fighting is about communication. Like how Umemiya told Sakura to use his fists to talk to Togame, he used his own fists and head to talk to Choji and it worked. Thanks to Umemiya, the viewers finally understand why Choji behaves the way he does. His idea of freedom is fickle. While being the top means free, it’s not the one he idealized, hence why he took the dark path because he was so distraught with the disappointment that came with its discovery. What Choji needed to realize was that the freedom he sought after had been with him the entire time: Shishitoren before he changed. He realized that Togame had been piecing back what had been broken the entire time and hence why he caressed his cheek and thanked him for protecting Shishitoren and not letting the group crumble even further.

The fight before Choji goes deep into this thoughts was still pretty good. The beginning part without any music was smooth. It’s crazy how well they’re animating this fight despite the huge height difference between Umemiya and Choji. Choji still pulls his weight and Umemiya does too. I think the craziest part of the fight was the neck biting scene. Given that Choji is themed around rabbits, the neck biting scene reminded me of a vampire rabbit, which then reminded me of the book series Bunnicula. I quite liked that series when I was younger. I still think it’s crazy how Choji gave Umemiya the nastiest hickey ever. Once this is all over and done, Ume needs to go to a doctor to check if Choji had rabies. I also liked the headbutt he gave to him. It reminded me a lot of Tanjiro and how he’d give headbutts to people.

As a manga reader, I do think the scenes with Choji’s thoughts are done a lot better in the anime. There were several scenes from those segments that I really liked. The first was the part where the floor underneath Choji cracked and he fell into it like he was in Kingdom Hearts. The second was showing Togame piecing together the fragmented memories. It symbolizes that Togame was holding everything together for Choji. The bloodied hands in some shots weren’t Choji but Togame’s. His hands became bloody from trying to collect all the glass shards and putting them back together instead of throwing them out, reminiscent of how he chose to cull the weak members for Choji so that everyone else wouldn’t hate him and make the group crumble. That was how much he cared for him. Gosh, it was done visually well. My last favorite part was the face touching scene. They improved so much from the manga. The manga had it to where Choji was thanking Togame for protecting them by touching his face while he was lying down and battered. The anime amps it up with the visuals, giving it a more sensual vibe. I was feeling so moved and even was holding back some tears with the scene.

I feel like I’m talking about Choji a bit too much, so I’m going to talk about Umemiya. Umemiya was great. He never showed any signs of weakness or having a disadvantage. I felt like he was just letting Choji hit him because he could tell he was faltering. I think Umemiya shined most towards the end where he rejected Choji’s jacket and wanted Bofurin and Shishitoren to be friends. Umemiya’s laid-back personality is his charm, after all. Also, Umemiya with some of his bangs made him look really nice and it made me wonder if he has his hair brushed back because having his hair down is an instant KO for his opponents.

Given how often Shishitoren was seen with cloudy skies and rainy weather, the last shot where the clouds lifted and showing off the blue sky was a nice way to show that Choji has returned to his normal self. It does feel like a nice conclusion for the Shishitoren arc and it makes me wonder how the rest of the episodes will be played out. I hope that there’s a second season. This show is way too good to not get a season two. What are your thoughts on this episode?