#the only case in which i really like vampire hunter x vampire

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “��but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K  

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, pining, angst, fluff, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: I’m sorry for the short chapter. There isn’t much Dean in this one or much of an interaction between them. But I really hope you enjoy it. It is a short introduction to Reader and the very first meeting between our reader and the Winchesters. I know it says enemies to lovers trope, but I think it’s more along the lines of rivals to lovers. A bit like Anastasia and Dimitri, from the animated movie; Anastasia. If you know, you know. Which we’ll get more in the next chapter.   

Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || Join my tag list

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @hell0-ki11y111, @zepskies, @impalari, @kr804573, @urinternetmom

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Thanks,” You smiled at the waitress as she refilled your cup.

She sent a quick smile your way. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

Sitting in the booth by the window, you were waiting for the help that Garth had promised you. You still had a hard time believing that he had sent the Winchesters your way. You had been working on this case for a little over two weeks. Strange killings had been going on in town. Wasn’t that how every hunt started? Strange deaths, classified more often than not as animal attack.

You knew better though. Everything about that case pointed to vampires. You had been able to locate their nest. Only problem was you were alone and there were at least eight of them. And before that case, you had never hunted vampires. Many hunters believed they had been hunted to extinction. And so far, you could only agree with them. Until now. It was a pretty big nest. At least, it was to you.

Not much of a team player, you usually hunt on your own. You liked it better this way. You didn’t have to depend on anyone for your survival. And you were the only one you had to worry about when on a hunt. It was better this way.

A dark muscle car parked next to yours on the parking lot. Two tall men climbed out of the car and made their way into the diner. The bell over the door rang as they walked through it. You observed them as they looked around the diner, certainly looking for you. The tallest of the two, with hair that belonged in a shampoo commercial, was the first one to clock you. Broad shoulders, tall, the Winchesters were handsome men. Way out of your league.

“Sam and Dean Winchester, I presume?” You asked as they stopped by your booth. You introduced yourself as they took a seat across from you.

The waitress stopped by your table. They placed their orders, and the waitress left with a smile on her face. And you told them everything they needed to know about the hunt, the nest and the location of it.

Your back slammed against the wall as the male vampire shoved you into the wall. You tried to push him away as the vampire snarled before he dived for your neck. You had a plan that you had, of course, shared with the brothers.

“That’s a stupid plan.” Dean scoffed.

“How is it stupid?” You asked with a frown.

“Too complicated.” Dean retorted. “It’s vampires, we go in, kill them, save the girl, go out. Simple, easy.”

“And my plan is stupid.” You scoffed in turn. “What about the not getting killed part?”

“We kill them before they kill us.” Dean said back.

“You have an answer for everything, huh?” You crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed at him.  

And now, there you were. Fighting off a vampire because Dean Winchester thought he was too good for your plan. Alright, maybe your plan wasn’t all that good. It was the first time you were hunting vampires, after all. And sure, Sam had given you precious tips on how to take down a vampire. But Dean could have at least given you the benefit of the doubt. Or at least, given your plan a chance. It wasn’t all that bad.

You always thought there were safety in numbers. Although, you’d rather hunt alone. However, this was a vampire nest and you needed help. And your plan was for the three of you to stick together while you go through the nest. The Vampires would not know you were there. Chances were, they did not expect anyone to come to their nest. It wasn’t a grand and complicated plan, as Dean made it sound. It was your plan. And you liked to do things your way.

That was why you were annoyed more than anything. It was your hunt and your plan. And Dean Winchester decided that he would take over. And you simply did not like it. But you swallowed your pride because he knew better than you did. He had hunted vampires before while you had not. So, you trusted his opinion but you still didn’t like that they were not doing things your way.

“Took you long enough.” You said breathless, as the dead vampire fell to the ground. Beheaded.

“You okay?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah,” You nodded quickly. “I’m good.”

“SAM!” You both heard Dean call from upstairs.

On Sam’s heels, you rushed upstairs to Dean’s rescue. There, you saw more vampires and still no trace of the girl. One of those vampires was pining Dean to the floor, going for his neck. As soon as you reached the landing, the vampires turned on you and hissed. You reached into your pocket for the syringe that contained the dead man’s blood. It was poison to vampires. It would not kill them but incapacitate them for a little while. You stabbed the first vampire that reached you in the neck, and they crumpled to the floor. You took this opportunity to behead the monster. Sam was a little to your left, fighting his own vampire. He kicked it in the stomach before marching onto it. Judging that Sam did not need your help, you rushed to Dean, and beheaded the vampire attacking him.

You pulled him to his feet. His hand covered his bleeding neck. Your eyes immediately went to Sam. The latter was kneeling on the ground, straddling a headless body. You looked around you. Bodies were strewn around the room. It seemed you had taken care of all the vampires. You abandoned the brothers to check the rooms. You had to find the girl, make sure she was alright.

She was not. Not really. The vampires had fed on her and thankfully, she had not been turned into one herself. Physically, she would heal but emotionally—there was a long road ahead of her. You hoped she would move on from this eventually.

“It’s a weekday.” You said as an answer after the brothers invited you out to the bar.

“So?” Dean frowned at you.

“I don’t drink on weekdays.” You shrugged.

Dean scoffed before shaking his head. “It’s just a drink after a hunt.”

“I get that but I don’t drink on weekdays.” You retorted. “You guys go. Do what you usually do. I’m going back to my motel.”

“Suit yourself then.” Dean said before walking up to his car.

You exhaled as you watched him go. “Anyway, thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome.” Sam smiled down at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You smiled at him. “I’d rather go back to the motel.”

“Well, if you need help with anything, give us a call.” Sam offered kindly.

“Will do.” You nodded. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

Sam grinned at you. “Yeah. Be safe out there.”

“You too.”

You waved him goodbye before you drove away. You wouldn’t call. Not if you can help it. But it was nice to know you had the option if you chose to. It couldn’t hurt to have the Winchesters as your ally, could it? And who knew? Maybe you would call.

Chapter List || Next chapter

[supercap2319]

What’s your say on a Sam Winchester x witch!reader where after a really bad fight with Dean, YN gives Sam an ultimatum: leave Dean and start a new life with YN or stay with Dean and never see YN again? It’s up to you.

It happened over and over again, but more recently than usual. Dean and Sam were always arguing. Whether it was about a case, demon blood, monsters, you name it. Though, if Y/N had to guess, he'd say most of their fights consist of Y/N, and him being a witch.

It was no secret that hunters didn't like witches, but Dean especially didn't like Y/N because he was not only a witch but a guy instead of a girl. Y/N suspected Dean was a homophobic, but with a father like John Winchester, who wouldn't be? Y/N tried his best to stick it out because of Sam. He used his powers a witch to help them save innocents, which he destined to do, but not with hunters.

The fine after finding a vampire nest was brutal. There were shouts and grunts, and Y/N's pretty sure he heard punching, too. Sam came into his room with a black eye, and Y/N',s blood boiled. That was it. He was getting out of here, and hopefully, Sam would come with. He cleaned and healed his wound as he looked at him.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Y/N?"

"I can't do this, Sam. Not anymore." Y/N said.

"What? Y/N, what are you talking about? Are you breaking up with me?" Sam asked.

"No? I don't want to, it's just... you shouldn't have to deal with Dean's crap. You should leave him and come with me." Y/N had been thinking that he and Sam should just go and start a new life somewhere for themselves. Somewhere behind the supernatural of witches hunters.

"I can't just leave. He's my brother." Sam protested.

"Why not? You and I were perfectly happy back at Stanford University before Dean came along and pulled you back in. I miss those days, don't you?"

"Yeah, sometimes." Sam admits. "But I can't just turn back the clock and pretend it didn't happen. And neither can you."

"I'm sorry, Sam, but you're going to have to make a choice. Either you leave, Dean. Or you never see me again."

Sam's mouth dropped at the ultimatum. "Don't make me choose between you and my brother. It's not fair."

"It's not fair to put your life on hold for him or mine. I'm sorry, Sam, but if you want to come with me... this is goodbye." Y/N said.

"Goodbye,Y/N." Sam said. He looked away from him.

Y/N nodded and left the room, crying as Sam felt tears rolling his face.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Facetime

Masterlist

Summary: You and Dean facetime whenever he goes on a hunt, but things go south when he and Sam are miles away

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader 

Rating: R for language, violence

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, blood, violence, torture, hostage situation, implied nudity, injured reader, mind control, starts off fluffy but gets real dark real quick, reader is a fan of Chris Evans

Author’s Note: This is loosely based on a dream I had and I know this gif is Dean looking at a coffee maker, but if you squint the coffee maker looks like a laptop :) Also, I don’t usually use capital letters (intentionally, but for no particular reason) but I thought I’d see how my writing looks with capital letters.

gif source

“Dean I don’t think your mic’s working,” You furrowed your brows in frustration, trying to tell him you couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

“Yeah it was off, that makes sense,” He laughed lightly. You smiled, happy to hear his voice and see his face. Sam and Dean had been on this hunt for nearly four days at this point and you missed your boyfriend so much it was driving you crazy. 

You weren’t much of a hunter; you preferred to keep a safe distance and help with research, instead of picking up a machete and chopping up vampires. Dean knew you preferred to stay home and he was happy with you being out of the line of fire. He’d hate himself if he let you get hurt on a hunt, you were his everything.

It was hard, though. You lived in the bunker but you still didn’t spend as much time with Dean as you would’ve liked to. You wanted to be with him each night instead of falling asleep to either his music playing on vinyl or his voice over the phone if you were lucky enough to be in the same time zone. Most of the time you’d go days without hearing his voice. 

That was until Sam had the brilliant (but blatantly obvious, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t come up with it) idea of you and Dean facetiming while doing research for the case; as opposed to just texting each other important details. 

“So, what’re you hunting?” You asked. Your laptop was set up next to your phone which is what you were calling Dean from. You were seated in the library and eager to help however you could. 

“Sam’s thinking a god,” Dean sighed. “He’s out getting the food.”

“And you’re doing the research?” You laughed. 

“Well, I wanted to talk with you, and see that beautiful face of yours,” He smirked. “Sammy can do the actual research when he gets back, should be soon.”

“I miss you,” You smiled, he did the same.

“I miss you, too, hun. How’re you doing? Cas is gonna get back home tomorrow morning so you won’t have the whole bunker to yourself for much longer.”

“It’s really lonely,” You laughed wryly. “As an introvert, I swore never to say this, but I kinda wish more people lived here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s... it’s not ideal,” He gave you a sympathetic look. “Y’know there’s a library in town you could go to if you don’t wanna be alone.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head over there. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight, I’m really starting to go stir-crazy!” 

“Wanna stay on the phone while you drive over there?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Of course!” You emphasized. “I’m so happy I finally get to talk to you for the first time today! I’m just gonna change into something more presentable real quick.”

“It’s 2pm on a Tuesday and you’re going to a public library; who are you thinking you might run into?” He teased lightly.

“Hey if I go not looking my best and Chris Evans just happens to be there I would kick myself!” You replied honestly. “Gimme a second.” You put the phone on your dresser and faced it away from where you would be changing.

“Y/n, I’ve seen you naked, you can change in front of me!” He sighed dramatically when you didn’t respond right away. “C’mon, I miss you!”

“You only get to see these boobs when you hurry up, finish that case, and get your ass back here!” You called out to him as you got dressed.

“That’s no fair,” Dean whined. You finished getting dressed pretty quickly and grabbed your phone off your dresser and your purse off your desk before you left the room.

“Okay I’m heading out now,” You smiled at your phone as you walked up to the entrance of the bunker.

“Which car are you taking?” Dean asked. 

“Mine; it’s parked outside, not in the garage. why?”

“Just wanna know you’ll be safe getting there. A lot of the cars in the garage tend to break down at random,” He replied. You hopped into your car and set your phone on the stand that was attached to the front window. 

“Ah, shit,” You winced suddenly, your hands now pressed against your temples. “De, something’s wrong-” You croaked out. Your head felt like it was going to explode as your vision began getting blurry. 

“Y/n? Y/n, talk to me! What’s happening,” Dean exclaimed, his voice ripe with panic. 

The pounding in your head suddenly stopped as your vision went black and you passed out. 

Your head was throbbing as you woke up. You tried bringing your hands to your head but then realized you were tied to a chair. You then also realized you were wearing nothing but a bra and your boy-short panties. 

“What the fuck,” You mumbled to yourself. You tightened your fists and pulled against the restraints.

“It’s no use, y/n,” A voice behind you announced. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. who knows, you might even die here.”

**

“Y/n? Y/n!” Dean exclaimed. He was completely panicking as he watched your car door open and someone pull you out of the driver’s seat. 

“Dean Winchester!” The man picked up the cell phone and showed Dean his face; complete with hideous black eyes. “Looks like I now have the thing you care about most,” The demon laughed. 

“You son of a bitch,” Dean screamed. “You hurt her and I swear I will-”

“What? What’re you gonna do Dean? Kill me? You don’t know where I’m taking her and I’m dumping this meat suit before you get the chance to figure out this guy’s name. No, you can’t do anything, Dean. You are completely and utterly powerless. I have the bitch you seem to love so much, and there’s nothing you can do.”

“What do you want?” Dean seethed through gritted teeth. He slammed his fist on the table next to him. “What do you fucking want?”

“To watch you suffer,” The demon smirked then hung up.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean screamed. He grabbed the chair he was sitting on and threw it to the side in frustration.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam exclaimed. He had walked in right as the chair hit the wall. “I take a little too long getting the burgers and you start breaking the furniture?” He laughed lightly. 

“Y/n,” Dean shouted. “A demon has y/n!”

“What the fuck? How? When?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Just now, we- we were facetiming and she was gonna go to the library- and she- it just took her Sam- I-” Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked at his younger brother with desperation. 

**

“What do you want from me?” You asked the demon. He was now kneeling in front of you as he toyed with your hair. 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” He smiled wickedly. “You see, you are very important to Dean Winchester; I hate Dean Winchester. I want him to suffer. Having you locked up in here is the easiest way to torture him. He’ll find you eventually, I’m sure, but you’ll be so broken and beaten you won’t ever be the same. You’ll never be his cheerful y/n again. You’ll be worn down by what I'm going to do to you, you’re not going to want to be anywhere near him. And that will break his heart beyond repair - that will be the ultimate torture. I'll be known as the demon who destroyed Dean Winchester’s will to live.”

“You’re wrong,” You whispered. “Dean cares about me, sure, but losing me isn’t gonna break him, you idiot! He'll be over me within a few months then he will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.”

“Maybe,” The demon shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see how long it takes him to get over you.” He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and plunged it into your thigh. You screamed in pain as tears streamed down your face. You looked down at the blood now dripping down your thigh then looked back up.

“D-Dean?” You whispered. “Wh-What’s going on?” Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on the man in front of you. “Dean! Dean, you found me?”

“Yeah, hun, it’s me,” The demon held your face with his hands. 

“H-Help me out of here,” You quivered, confused as to why Dean was so calm. He shook his head, smiled, then gripped the knife and twisted it. “Y-You’re not Dean!”

“Of course I am, y/n! And I'm so happy I finally get to show you how I really feel about you,” He smiled. He took the knife out and pressed it against your left breast. “You know I never really cared much about you, you’re just an easy lay.”

“You’re not Dean,” You closed your eyes tightly. “Dean loves me.”

“Awe, that’s really sweet y/n, but of course I'm Dean! And I wouldn’t say I love you, more like I love having my own pathetic fucktoy handy at all times,” He patted your cheek. “I mean, let’s face it; all we do when I'm not hunting is have sex! Why else would I want you living with me?”

“That’s- That’s not true!” You whispered, more to yourself than to the monster posing as the love of your life. “We have movie nights, we bake pie, we have dinner together, we-”

“Do we?” He touched your temple with two fingers. “Dean never did any of that with you.”

“Y-You never did any of that with me,” You mumbled.

**

“Days, Sam! It's been days!” Dean shouted. “Y/n is still with that fucking demon!”

“I know it’s been days, Dean but you need to sleep. Just four hours; recharge and come back with a clear head.”

“Do you think y/n is able to sleep? Or have a second of peace or quiet! She is being tortured by a demon, because of me!”

“Cas will be back with some information in a few hours, until then you should sleep,” Sam suggested. “Look, we’ve done all we can for right now, you’re no use to y/n if you’re too tired to function!”

Before Dean could protest, his phone rang and he answered; “Hello?”

“Dean Winchester,” the voice replied.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“I’m the demon that’s got y/n,” He replied. Dean could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I swear to God I will find you and-”

“And you’ll kill me, blah, blah, blah; you’ve said that before. I'm just calling to let you know you can have her back. I'll text you the address.” The demon hung up.

“What-” Dean brought his phone down, confused. “That was the demon, he said he’s texting me the address where y/n is,” He told Sam.

“What? That makes no sense?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t lying,” Dean held up his phone and showed Sam the text. 

“It’s definitely a trap, right?”

“Doesn't matter, let's go; we can meet Cas there.”

“Dean, that's at least a six-hour drive; let me drive so you can sleep,” Sam offered. Dean was ridiculously tired and he knew he wasn’t at his full strength so he decided to take a nap on the way.

**

“Y/n! Oh my god!” Dean exclaimed when he walked into the dark warehouse and saw you tied to the chair.

“Sam?” You breathed out. “Cas?” You smiled slightly, barely lifting your head. 

“Hey- Hey hun,” Dean crouched down and held your face.

“What, now you’re all sweet?” You scoffed, then looked past him and up at his younger brother. “Sam, please help me! Dean, he- he did this to me.”

“What? No! No, no, I would never! I love you," Dean stuttered, not taking his eyes off you. He untied your right hand and you punched the side of his head, which caused him to fall to the side. 

“Cas! Please! You guys have to believe me!”

“It's okay, you’re safe now,” Cas came up to you. He put two fingers on your forehead and healed you. “We’re gonna take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” You replied as the angel untied you. Sam looked around for your clothes and, surprisingly, found them off to the side and folded neatly. Cas helped you up as Sam handed you your jeans and shirt, and you happily put them on. Dean was standing up at this point, but he just stood there; silent tears falling as he looked at you. 

“Y/n- Hun, please- please tell me you know this wasn’t me!” He whispered, you looked over at him. “Please you- you know it was a demon!”

“Oh and where is this demon now, Dean?” You asked flatly, Dean stayed silent. “You know, I fucking trusted you!” Tears escaped your eyes and you brushed them away quickly. You continued, gritting your teeth in anger, “I hate you.” 

“Let’s get you home,” Sam interrupted, he knew Dean didn’t do this and he needed to figure out how to make you know too. You nodded and followed Castiel out the door, Sam followed you and, after a moment, Dean did too.

Cas opened the back door for you while Sam opened the passenger door. 

“Sam, can you drive?” You asked him quietly. “Please? I know you don’t believe me about Dean, but I don't trust him; please don’t let him drive.”

“Sweetheart, I-” Dean started, overhearing what you said to Sam.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” You hissed and pointed your finger at him with anger. You turned back to Sam, “If it was up to me, I’d say cuff him; but at least don’t let him be the fucking driver!” With that, you hopped in the back seat, Cas doing the same after you.

Dean took the demon cuffs out of his back pocket and handed them to Sam before holding his hands behind him.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed.

“I want her to feel safe,” Dean replied. “Well, as safe as she can feel while I'm still in proximity.” Sam nodded and cuffed his older brother before they both got into the car; Sam in the driver’s seat.

**

“You really don’t believe me?” You practically screamed. You were all back at the bunker and Sam was refusing to lock Dean up in the dungeon.

“It's not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then do something!”

“Sam, Dean, can I talk to you?” Cas asked and the three went around the corner, you huffed to yourself and sat at the war room table. “There’s something really wrong with y/n.”

“Yeah, Cas, we can tell,” Dean replied.

“No, I mean, really wrong! When I healed her at the warehouse, I could feel something pushing back.”

“What do you think that means?” Sam asked.

“I think we need to call Crowley. He’s had a soft spot for y/n for a while now, maybe he’ll know what’s wrong.”

“Yeah, great! Let another demon get their hands on her,” Dean scoffed sarcastically.

“Crowley isn’t just ‘another demon’ Dean; he might be able to reverse whatever’s happened here!” Castiel retorted. 

“Fine, fine we’ll give him a call,” Dean sighed. The three of them walked back around the corner but you weren’t sitting at the table anymore. “Y/n?” Dean called out, beginning to panic.

Sam rushed outside while Dean checked your bedroom and Cas checked the garage.

“Y/n, what’re you doing?” Dean asked. You frantically threw clothes into your duffle and didn’t answer him. “Sweet- Uh, sorry- y/n please,” Dean stumbled over his words.

“I’m leaving Dean, and I never want to see you again!” You exclaimed and tried to brush past him. He gently gripped your forearm to pull you back and your demeanor changed. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” You whispered; tears welled in your eyes as Dean’s widened. He let go of you and put his hands up, backing away.

“No, no I- I’m not going to hurt you, y/n, I wanna help you,” He said calmly. “We all do. Please, don’t go.”

“Why are you being so sweet now, I don’t understand,” You let the tears fall. “Is it just cause of Sam and Cas? Is that it? You’d like to take out your knife and get back to work but you don’t want your baby brother and your best friend to see you torturing me?”

“I- I don’t know what to say, y/n,” He replied, also letting tears fall. “I swear that was not me!”

“Right, right it was a demon,” You scoffed. “Seriously, Dean? The least you could do is own up to what you did, for fuck’s sake! But I guess I should’ve seen this coming, huh?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You only ever cared about my body, Dean! Was just a matter of time before you got bored and used what Alastair taught you!”

“What? Y/n we’ve known each other for ten years, we’ve only been dating the last two! We didn’t even sleep together the first four months because we wanted to take it slow; do you not remember any of this?”

“Does this actually work on people?” You laughed. “You fake a few tears, look at them with lost puppy eyes, and try to make them believe such ridiculous lies?”

“Y/n!” Castiel called out from behind you. He had checked the garage and when he didn’t see you there he decided to check the kitchen and then head over to your bedroom.

“Castiel, please get me out of here!” You hurried to his side. “Dean won’t let me leave!”

“No- I-” Dean tried to protest but then just shook his head in defeat, not wanting to make things worse.

“We have a working theory going about what happened,” Cas lied to you. “We think Dean may have been possessed before, and the demon that possessed him may still be looking for you. You should stay here in the bunker where it’s safe, okay?”

“Okay, Cas, I trust you,” You clung to his arm, still terrified of Dean. 

“Dean, why don’t you get Sam and meet me in the dungeon in a few minutes,” Cas asked him. “Y/n, you can stay in your room until we know more.”

**

It took Crowley a couple of days to figure out what the demon did but once he did, he called Dean and was summoned to the bunker.

“It’s a hex bag,” He said before his trademark, “Hello, boys.”

“A hex bag? Where?” Sam asked. “She’s changed clothes, we’re nowhere near the warehouse-”

“According to Frank-” 

“Frank? The demon’s name is Frank?” Dean scoffed.

“Yes,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Frank said he carved it into her thigh.”

“Good Lord,” Sam muttered. 

“How do we get it out?” Dean asked Crowley. “We can’t just cut back into her!”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Crowley replied.

“No! She’s already terrified we can’t-”

“I can put her to sleep,” Castiel suggested. “She shouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Crowley walked out of the dungeon and over to your room.

“What’s he doing here?” You glared at Dean when the four men entered your bedroom. You had been seated on your couch reading when Crowley knocked and opened the door.

“Dean, maybe you should wait outside,” Sam told him quietly. Dean nodded slightly and backed out of the room.

**

“She’s asking for you,” Sam smiled a little, walking into the library to find Dean downing another glass of whiskey.

“Seriously!? She wants to see me?” He practically jumped out of the chair and then hurried to your room. He took a deep breath and opened your door.

You were at the edge of your bed with one knee tucked against you. When Dean entered, you looked at him with tear-stained eyes and let a quiet sob leave your lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered. “De, I’m so, so sorry!”

“No, no, no it’s- none of this is your fault,” He hurried to your side but hesitated to wrap his arms around you. “Can I… Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course,” You replied and wrapped your arms around him when he held you. “I love you so much, Dean, I’m so sorry I believed the demon.”

“It’s not your fault, it was a hex bag,” He kissed the crown of your head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I know, but I should’ve been able to snap out of it!” You protested. “I mean, these hands,” You took his left hand and held it, kissing his palm gently. “I love these hands, how could I have believed that they, that you hurt me?” You kissed his hand again then looked up at him. “I’m sorry, for what I said.”

“It’s okay,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay, that you’re back.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before Dean asked you, “How are you feeling?”

“Physically? Fine. Emotionally? Fucking terrible,” You replied, squeezing Dean tighter. “I keep getting these like flashbacks about what the demon did, and in a lot of the memories the demon still looks like you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, that sounds awful!”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “I'll be okay though, I’ve got you.”

[edgeray]

Arlecchino Oneshot Poll

Wassup gaymers Some of the concepts in the poll I already have something in mind (explanations will be down below.) If you have other ideas feel free to ask, dm, or reply to me!! I'm free to all ideas (but only if they're AUs. I don't know genshin lore, sorry). I'm looking at what people may want the most though order will vary *not* on the popularity. If an idea interests me especially, I'll write it regardless of the poll results. Currently I have 1 wip arlecchino oneshot, and hopefully it should be done and posted this Wednesday. Again, the winning concept may not necessarily be written first so select which one sounds the most interesting to you!!

Alright, explanation time. This is gonna be really long, some concepts are fully fleshed out, plot and all, and some only have the barest idea I'll accept NSFW ideas too, but they won't be written for a while if they are explicit smut. I can write suggestive. Mafia AU:

Mafia! Arlecchino x Exotic Dancer! Reader - A Part 2 to my published Arlecchino Oneshot "Late Night Devil, Put Your Hands on Me." Link is here if you want to read it.

Either a separate Mafia AU! oneshot. I don't have any ideas, but I'm honestly open with any ideas. Rival mafia leaders Arlecchino and Reader? I'm looking for more ideas of this potential AU.

Demon AU/ Angel AU:

Demon! Arlecchino / Demon! Reader - This idea is heavily based off of the plot of the manga Black Butler. In summary, a human summons a demon to help them achieve their goal in exchange for selling their soul for the demon to eat after their goal is accomplished. In the case for Black Butler, the main character of the series summons a demon for revenge, and the demon has to serve as his butler, following all of his orders like what a butler does. This oneshot idea would follow the same premise of the demon being a butler(buttress) to the human that summons them, and the demon would do whatever it is that the human wants. I can see either character for this role, hence why either Arlecchino or Reader could be the demon. (So either you boss around Arlecchino or Arlecchino bosses you around 🤭).

Demon! Arlecchino x Angel! Reader - Demon! Arlecchino becomes obsessed with Angel! Reader during a war between the two races. Centuries after the war's conclusion, she researches and learns how humans are able to fall in love and form a bond. Wanting to replicate this with you (to make you hers) despite how forbidden and impossible it is. Demons and angels can't feel love (romantic, familial, or platonic) nor feel human empathy. She lures you in to a trap to force a bond, and the bond is successful, making the two of you the first of either species to fall in love. You're not so happy about this as Arlecchino is.

Fallen Angel! Arlecchino x Human! Reader - Arlecchino becomes the first angel to fall from grace and lose one of her wings, and unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, you're the first human she comes across. You introduce her to the human realm, all while running from power hungry demons that want a taste of Arlecchino's powers and revenge thirsty angels who wants to make her pay for her treason.

Succubus! Arlecchino x Human! Reader - A succubus is basically a sex demon. Take that as you will.

Vampire AU:

Vampire! Arlecchino - You literally can never go wrong with Vampire! Arlecchino. She's perfect for this, and there's so many ways it can go. Either you're her mortal lover, or you're her newest victim, or she's your vampiric partner in crime when it comes to terrorizing humans. Need I say more? There's just too many good ideas for this.

Vampire Hunter! Arlecchino x Vampire! Reader - Hear me out. (While I won't describe it here, there's probably going to be some Dead Dove: Do Not Eat vibes in here.) I have like an entire plot for this. You can ask @servalisms to confirm (ty for letting me rant to you about this, sev, love you 😊). This idea could be a fucking book. Moving onto the actual explanation, you're a young and inexperienced vampire that's caught the eye of vampire hunter! Arlecchino. Never having seen a more beautiful human, you become obsessed in the moment you spot her, wanting nothing more but to experience the taste of her. When she has you pinned down and incapacitated effortlessly, she notices how... compliant you are. Finding some amusement and some potential benefits from this, she spares you. From this point on, you become a pet of Arlecchino: her obedient lap dog and her protective guard dog. You are her weapon as much as you are her toy (but never a lover, unless...?) and even though you're a vampire, you've dedicated your being to her. I'm really excited about this one as it's been cooking for a while.

Modern AU:

This isn't one that I've planned out as much as the other ones, but there's a lot of different ideas that I can just spitfire into a bullet-point list:

CEO! Arlecchino x Employee! Reader (I recommend not hooking up with your boss irl)

Professor! Arlecchino x College Student! Reader (Guys, please don't hook up with your professors irl, that is a bad idea)

Police Officer!/ Dectective! Arlecchino x Criminal! Reader(I don't know, this was just random lmfao) -

Barista! Arlecchino (Also random) -

Domestic! Arlecchino - just some domestic fluff with Arlecchino :)

Highschool / College AU? - self-explanatory

Gentleman Thief! Arlecchino x Detective! Reader - Wouldn't consider this apart of a Modern AU, but I didn't know where else to put it. The only reasoning I have for this is because I want Arlecchino to leave roses at each crime scene for you to find and flirt shamelessly with you.

Soul Mate AU - Because when has a Soul Mate AU ever gone wrong. (This might be angsty :))

(Please give me ideas for Modern AU! because I'm seriously lacking some ideas for it!)

Hybrid AU:

Quite literally if I stuck animal/creatures features onto either you or Arlecchino. Honestly, let your ideas go free with that-- there's just a lot I could write about. Reader could be a million different animals. However, for Arlecchino, here's the ideas I have. I also haven't thought much of these beyond wanting to pet Arlecchino's fluffy ears or see her have cute animalistic quirks/behaviors.

Snow Leopard! Arlecchino / White Panther! Arlecchino / White Tiger! Arlecchino / Artic Fox! Arlecchino (this idea was courtesy of @megistusdiary, hope you don't mind the tag?) who would have the softest ears and the cutest purrs! I'd imagine she can also transform into different forms of her animal as well, so imagine just snuggling up with Arlecchino as a baby kit! Dragon! Arlecchino x Human! Reader - I found this idea from pigeonpeach's blog (don't wanna tag). Instead of restating what's already said, I'll just link to one of her posts here. If I were to write this, it'll probably be based off of this. Dragon Rider! Arlecchino x Dragon Transformer! Reader - Look. I want Arlecchino to ride me in more ways than 1, but I'll settle for this way.

Anyways, that should be all of it. Phew, that was a lot. Are you still even here? Reminder that none of these will have explicit smut if it's going to be posted soon! I do plan on posting NSFW oneshots in the future, but not now! So again, if you do have NSFW ideas, feel free to send :).

[xerofresh]

🔥 SILVERSTREAKSHIPPING WEEK 🍙

🍙 DAY 3: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE 🔥

Yeah, vampire x vampire hunter au lets go.

Lore time! Larry was turned into a vampire when he was young and found out how to integrate with society easily, even getting a job at the league. But one day (I’m not sure how yet) he accidentally spreads a vampiric epidemic and turns Paldea into a high-alert modern-victorian hellhole. The league finds out he's a vampire because of this, so he runs away and secludes himself to not hurt anyone else, but the damage has already been done. The league closes off the league building because it's contaminated, Larry sees this and just moves back in and turns it into a combo league building and Victorian castle. For years they have had to fight off vampire spawn and they need reinforcements, so Kabu volunteers and moves to Paldea to help. Then a few missions later he stumbles across Larry chilling somewhere by Medali not hunting or anything. Again, I don't know exactly what happens after that but there are a lot of very gay feelings between them and they are both confused as to why.

Alright now that's over, I modified vampires a little bit so stick with me.

Vampires are not limited to humans for blood! They can drink the blood of any warm-blooded creature, mainly mammals, like a Chupacabra. They can also eat berries because fruitbats (humans still taste the best though)

There are vampire spawns and then true vampires. True vampires are what Larry is, typical Hollywood vampires. Vampire spawns are more like animals, they don't have much cognitive thought other than animalistic desires and following their leader, Larry. They're kind of like dogs in the sense that they can be trained to do tasks and stuff. Dogs with rabies.

Vampires are killed/repelled by the typical things, sunlight, garlic, wooden stakes, and decapitation. Some things I've changed are one, vampires can only be damaged in combat by the stakes or silver weapons; two, crosses and holy water do nothing, it's just an outdated legend. Most people don't know this because when they do use it, they're just startled and/or confused so they're vulnerable, people: three, vampires can only be burned by the magical fire from Pokèmon, no man or nature-made fires can hurt vampires; four, I will not be implementing the rule that vampires can only attack you if you invite them into your house, but I will implement the scattering of seeds or grain to distract vampires. Some stories say if you scatter seeds, vampires are compelled to count them. This only applies to Larry though since vampire spawns don't have the cognitive ability to count, and it is just the autistic Larry thing to do; and five, only vampire spawns are affected by sunlight. I only really did this so there's a sense of suspense even though the league knows who the vampire is. The general public doesn't know because the league is bad at communicating.

All vampires can turn into bats (or bat Pokèmon idk) Larry can stay in his bat form for much longer.

When a true vampire settles somewhere, vampire spawns are drawn to the location and it serves as a home base. Some vampires are lone wolves (or bats in this case) but most serve under Larry.

Alright, now for some other character tidbits!

Larry is a bit lazier in this au. After he finishes redecorating he doesn't need to do anything because if he wanted food he could just get one of his servants to fetch someone. If Larry does have the rare urge to hunt somewhere, it’s mainly by Medali for the nostalgia and good options, or Cortando since it’s the closest (other than Mesagoza but he has standards he's not killing kids)

Larry cultivates a berry orchard in front of his castle when he doesn't want blood that day. It’s also kind of a maze to get through and only Larry and any spawns that help in the orchard know the paths to get through.

Larry is still a foodie and knows exactly which berries and what blood types work together.

Larry has named every single one of his servants. He has them all written down just in case he forgets.

Kabu is a very skilled vampire hunter, stories of vampires started in Europe after all. With his athleticism and powerful fire Pokèmon he is well-known by hunters worldwide. Any fire type trainer is a danger to vampires with their Pokèmon, but a fire type vampire hunter is a whole new ball game.

Kabu’s a bit more serious and jaded, but he still has that fiery passion that he's known for, it doesn't really show while he's hunting because it’s not really his favorite thing to do you know? It more shows when he's training and battling with his Pokèmon like canon Kabu.

So yeah uh cool gay vampire stuff! We love to see it.

[junophernelia]

The Name of Blasphemy

Vampire Hannibal X Monster Hunter Will Graham

Part 2: The Beast is Given a Mouth to Utter Proud Words.

No warnings, 1.9k words, Will and Hannibal have their first dinner. Will dreams after. Last chapter

The grand dining room was everything Will expected: dark wood panels, high ceilings, and a massive chandelier hanging overhead, casting a warm glow on the richly set table. Candles flickered in silver holders, their light reflected off polished cutlery and fine china. Everything about the room screamed wealth and refinement, but it also felt cold, detached.

Will sat at one end of the long table, his eyes scanning the room for hidden corners or exits. A habit. He didn’t trust any place where he couldn’t see all the ways out. The quiet tick of a clock somewhere deep in the house was the only sound that broke the stillness.

At the other end of the table, Hannibal sat calmly, poised as always, with a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He was the picture of elegance, his movements deliberate and graceful as he sliced into his food, like someone who’d mastered the art of control. “You seem... uneasy, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal remarked, his voice as smooth as the wine in his glass. He didn’t look up, but Will could feel his attention like a weight. “Perhaps you’re not accustomed to such formal settings?”

Will smirked, cutting into the meat in front of him—some kind of rare roast that looked far too expensive for his taste. “Not exactly my usual dinner scene,” he replied, glancing up at Hannibal. “My diet’s more beans cooked over an open fire. Or whatever stew the inn can scrape together. You know, simple man.” “Of course,” Hannibal said with a nod, unbothered by Will’s tone. “But I believe there’s something to be said for a well-prepared dish, don’t you think? It’s an art, really. One must appreciate the finer things in life, even if they don’t come naturally.” He raised his glass in a casual toast. “To new experiences.”

Will eyed him, lifting his glass half-heartedly in response. “Yeah, well, sometimes new experiences taste like pretension.” Hannibal chuckled softly, setting his glass down with a delicate clink. “It’s only pretension if there’s no substance behind it. I assure you, this meal is quite substantial.”

Will stabbed at a piece of meat, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. “I’ll take your word for it. You’re the expert here.” “Hardly an expert,” Hannibal replied, his smile widening. “Just someone who enjoys the finer details. I find them... illuminating.” “Right.” Will’s eyes narrowed slightly as he put down his fork. “That why you’ve got me here, then? To savor the finer details?” Hannibal’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You’re far too interesting a guest to simply ignore, Mr. Graham. Besides, I suspect you don’t allow many people to get close enough to... savor you, as you put it.”

Will snorted, leaning back in his chair. “People don’t usually get the chance to try. The ones that do don’t stick around long.” “Is that by your design, or theirs?” Hannibal asked, tilting his head slightly, his tone curious rather than accusatory.

Will’s eyes flicked up to meet Hannibal’s, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Depends on the person, I guess. Most people don’t get the appeal of a guy who sleeps with one eye open and carries enough silver to ward off a small army.” “Perhaps they lack imagination,” Hannibal mused. “I find there’s great beauty in vigilance. It suggests a mind that never rests, a constant pursuit of... something greater.”

Will’s smirk widened as he picked up his glass again, swirling the wine lazily. “You make paranoia sound like a virtue.” Hannibal’s eyes gleamed. “Perhaps in your case, it is.” There was a brief silence as they both returned to their meals, the soft clink of cutlery filling the room. Will was still on edge, but he couldn’t help noticing the ease with which

Hannibal commanded the space around him. Every movement was purposeful, every glance measured. It wasn’t just charm—it was control. “You’ve got a lot of people convinced you’re some kind of saint,” Will said, his voice casual but sharp. “Generous lord, protector of the village. Hannibal didn’t flinch, instead taking another sip of wine before responding. “It’s only natural to be wary of what you don’t understand.”

Will’s gaze locked with Hannibal’s, his blue eyes hard and unyielding. “People like you don’t do things out of the goodness of their hearts. There’s always something else.” Hannibal’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened slightly, an undercurrent of something unreadable passing beneath his otherwise calm expression. “You may find, in time, that my intentions are more straightforward than you assume.”

Will’s lips curled into a sarcastic grin. “Yeah? And what are those intentions?” Hannibal leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just a fraction. “To show you that not everything is as black and white as you believe. That sometimes, the monster isn’t the one standing in front of you.”

Will’s smirk faltered for just a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Is that supposed to reassure me?” Hannibal sat back again, his smile returning to its usual charming curve. “No, Mr. Graham. It’s supposed to make you curious.”

Will didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough. Hannibal watched him for a long moment, the tension between them palpable yet oddly comfortable, as though they were both playing a game neither of them wanted to win just yet. The rest of the meal passed in quiet conversation, but beneath every word was the same underlying tension—one that neither man was willing to break.

Later that night, Will lay rigid in the bed, the soft sheets foreign against his skin. Sleep was elusive, as if the comfort of the opulent room only made it harder to find. The plush mattress, likely the most luxurious he'd encountered in years, felt more like a trap than a sanctuary. He’d grown accustomed to rough nights spent in barns, under open skies, or in dingy inns where every sound kept him on edge. Here, in this lavish bedchamber, the stillness felt suffocating. Despite all his instincts, despite years of training to sniff out the foulness of the monsters he hunted, he found himself intrigued by the Count in a way that both repulsed and captivated him. The image of the count, with his sharp features and unreadable eyes, loomed in Will’s mind. He tried to shake it off, but the harder he resisted, the more vivid the man's presence became. Something about Hannibal's demeanor, the calm power in his gaze, pulled at a part of Will he couldn’t easily explain. It gnawed at him, a feeling that nestled deep, even as his mind screamed against it.

.The memory of their meeting replayed in fragments—Hannibal’s smooth voice, his deliberate movements, the way his gaze seemed to penetrate through every defense Will had built over the years. Despite everything he knew, everything he had trained for, Will couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward the count. It was irrational, dangerous even, but it gnawed at him all the same. Here, in this grand estate with its suffocating grandeur.

Will's body sank deeper into the plush mattress, the weight of exhaustion finally dragging him into the abyss of sleep. But his rest was far from peaceful. The moment his eyes closed, his mind began to twist and bend, plunging him into a strange, feverish dream.

He stood in the middle of a fog-drenched forest, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and decay. The trees towered around him, their gnarled branches curling toward the sky like skeletal hands, their bark slick with an unnatural sheen, as though the forest itself was alive—watching him. A heavy, oppressive darkness hung between the trees, so thick that it pressed down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Somewhere in the distance, a raven croaked, its cry echoing through the stillness, eerie and foreboding.

Will’s hand instinctively reached for his knife, but his fingers closed around empty air. He was unarmed, vulnerable. The forest seemed to shift and pulse around him, alive with the whispers of unseen creatures, and somewhere beyond the trees, something—no, someone—was watching him. The fog parted, revealing a path. It wound through the forest, leading to a crumbling stone manor perched precariously on the edge of a cliff, silhouetted against a sickly yellow moon. The manor’s towers stretched up into the sky like claws, and its windows gleamed with an unnatural light. It was the same manor where he had fallen asleep, yet in this dream, it seemed older, more twisted, as though the very stone had been corrupted by centuries of malevolence. Drawn forward by some invisible force, Will moved toward the manor, his footsteps soundless on the damp earth. The trees loomed closer as he passed, their bark now pulsing with dark veins, like blood vessels pushing sluggish, rotten blood through the heart of the forest. His breath came in shallow gasps, and the air was thick with the stench of rot. He stumbled, his foot sinking into the ground, which gave way beneath him like decayed flesh.

The fog parted, revealing a path. It wound through the forest, leading to a crumbling stone manor perched precariously on the edge of a cliff, silhouetted against a sickly yellow moon. The manor’s towers stretched up into the sky like claws, and its windows gleamed with an unnatural light. It was the same manor where he had fallen asleep, yet in this dream, it seemed older, more twisted, as though the very stone had been corrupted by centuries of malevolence.

Drawn forward by some invisible force, Will moved toward the manor, his footsteps soundless on the damp earth. The trees loomed closer as he passed, their bark now pulsing with dark veins, like blood vessels pushing sluggish, rotten blood through the heart of the forest. His breath came in shallow gasps, and the air was thick with the stench of rot. He stumbled, his foot sinking into the ground, which gave way beneath him like decayed flesh.

Drawn forward by a force he couldn’t resist, Will moved toward the manor, his footsteps silent on the spongy ground. The closer he came, the heavier the air became, thick with the scent of damp decay and something metallic, like iron rusting in the rain. His chest tightened with every breath, as though the forest itself was pressing down on him.

The manor’s door stood open, waiting. Without thinking, Will stepped inside. The grand hall stretched out before him, dimly lit by flickering candles that cast long, wavering shadows across the walls. The air was thick and humid, with the faintest scent of flowers just beginning to rot. The wooden panels of the walls seemed to pulse faintly, as though they were alive, and the floor beneath his feet creaked with each step. Something was off—subtle, but present, like the place was teetering on the edge of decay, barely holding itself together.

At the far end of the hall, a figure stood in shadow, watching him. It was Hannibal. He stepped into the light, his face as sharp and flawless as ever, but there was something different about him in the dream—an intensity that set Will’s nerves on edge. His eyes gleamed in the flickering candlelight, and his presence filled the room in a way that made the space feel smaller, as though the walls themselves were closing in around him.

Hannibal smiled, that same calm, measured smile, but in the dream, it felt more like a mask—something hiding the truth beneath. “You don’t seem well-rested,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too soft for the vastness of the hall. Will tried to speak, but his throat was tight. The words wouldn’t come. His heart pounded, the sensation of being watched creeping over him like a second skin. There was something in the room with them, something unseen but present, hovering just out of reach.

[poppy-in-the-woods]

Playing God | Chapter Three: Look But Don't Touch

Plot: Sadie is a vampire hunter with a problem: the members of her favourite band are vampires. She spent the last five years since she found out training to take them out, one by one, beginning with the youngest, guitarist Tim Henson. But things rarely go as planned, and Sadie's life will be turned upside down after her first encounter with Tim.

Cross-posted to AO3

Pairing: Vampire!Tim Henson x Vampire hunter!OFC

Word count: 4315

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

General tags: vampire au, arranged marriage, smut, violence, blood, biting, implied homophobia, misoginy, lgbtq characters, slight gore.

Chapter tags: talks of slut shaming, alcohol consumption, asshole brother, asshole boyfriend

Author's note: As always, English is not my first language, this is not proofread, yada yada yada, you know the drill already. Hope you enjoy, and if any of you want me to be tagged into this, let me know.

@veronicaphoenix

After her comments about the potential existence of good vampires, Jack and her father took turns watching her. On Saturday she went to bed early and did something she hadn't done since she was a teenager: she put a couple of pillows under the covers and climbed out her bedroom window. They had agreed that Tim would pick her up at the end of the street, so, after putting on her heels, she ran to his parked car.

“Ready?” he asked her as she put on her seatbelt.

“Pedal to the metal!”

For some reason, she felt excited about going to a party, and after a couple of minutes of thinking about it, she realized why: as an adult she had never gone to a party for the party itself, but to kill vampires. The last party she had gone to with the sole purpose of enjoying herself had been her prom, and it hadn't ended well.

“What's on your mind?” he asked.

“My prom. My date tried to grope me while we were dancing, so I broke his face,” she said. “I literally broke his jaw with a punch.”

“Shit!”

“I didn't mean to do it, but I was so angry I went too far,” she confessed.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” he said.

She couldn't help laughing, and he joined in soon after.

“Do you have any stories about dances?” she asked him when she could stop laughing.

“No, not really. I missed a few, that's for sure. As a teenager I spent a lot of time grounded for smoking pot,” he said, smiling wistfully, “and I even got arrested a couple of times, so to stay out of trouble I took up playing the guitar.”

“So that's why you're so good.”

“And because of my mother. She's Chinese, you know, and Asian mothers are a little crazy. I started playing the violin, and even though I didn't like it, she made me rehearse and rehearse,” he confessed. “There's no denying she taught me discipline.”

“Do you speak Mandarin?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, no. I mean, I can speak it now, but I never learned it as a human.”

“Oh, that's too bad. Did you know there's a way to tell if a vampire learned a language as a human or if they're using their gift of tongues?”

“Ah, yeah? Which one?”

“If they have an accent of their mother tongue when speaking the other language, they almost certainly learned it as a human.” She explained. After that, they were silent for a while. “Tim, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“What does it feel like to be bitten?” she wanted to know.

“It hurts, obviously, but only for a couple of seconds. We have substances in our saliva that numb the pain. It makes the experience euphoric,” he said in a dreamy tone. “But I was only bitten to be turned, so my experience is minimal.”

“I guess I'll have to ask the fleurs-de-lis.”

“Exactly. We're here.”

The party was at a hotel, small and exclusive. They had booked one of the rooms that normally hosted weddings, and a hotel employee was checking to make sure no one entered without an invitation. Her anxiety grew as they approached the door; there were too many vampires there, and she didn't have her stake with her, nor any of her weapons, just in case she had to go through a metal detector.

“Your invitation, sir?” asked the stewardess politely.

“I have it here,” he replied, taking it out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Of course, have a nice evening,” the woman wished them after reading it and returning it to him.

They entered. The room was filled with vampires of different ages, genders, and backgrounds, plus several human waitresses moving among the people, carrying trays of glasses of champagne or blood. The pressure in her chest increased.

“I don't know if this was a good idea, Tim,” she whispered.

“Relax, no one is going to hurt you,” he assured her. “You are my guest, and that means that it is forbidden to touch you without my permission, okay? Look but don't touch.”

“Look but don't touch,” she repeated, taking a deep breath. “I need a drink.” Tim took a glass of champagne from a nearby tray and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said, and proceeded to drink it in one gulp.

“Slow down, you beast, you're going to get a good bender if you keep it up,” he said, amused. “Would you like to dance?”

“Okay.”

Sadie left the empty glass on the tray of a passing waitress and let herself be led to the dance floor. They swayed for a while (neither of them knew how to dance to the kind of music that was playing), until a vampire (male, about forty or forty-five years old apparently, with a beard and graying hair) came up to greet Tim, followed by an obviously human woman, a statuesque blonde wearing a scandalous red dress.

“Hi, I'm Claire” the woman introduced herself as the vampires spoke. “I've never seen you around these parties before, are you new in town?”

“Sadie, nice to meet you,” she replied, shaking her hand. “No, I... I'm not a fleur-de-lis, I just came with him,” she explained, nodding to her date.

“Oh, I see. If he gets tired of you, or you get tired of doing it for free, call me, okay?” Claire said, holding out a card to her. “You won't know what it's like to earn real money until you're one of us.”

“Does one really earn that much?”

“Right now, between clothes and accessories, I have about five grand on me,” Claire confided. “Of course, you have to know which vampires to associate with, but here in Los Angeles are some of the richest vampires in the country.”

“No offense, but isn't that like being a very expensive hooker?”

“Luxury escort,” Claire corrected her. “Luxury bloodscort, if you will,” she added, laughing at her own pun. “The vampires have paid for my breast augmentation, liposculpture, my house, my closet and my car. And all that in just five years.”

“I assume not everyone will earn that much.”

“No, of course not. Again, it depends on where you operate and the contacts you have,” acknowledged the fleur-de-lis. “Besides, this job is not for everyone. There are girls who have tried it and soon quit, and they were just as happy.”

“Because they didn't want to sleep with their clients?”

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” the woman assured her. “They pay you to drink from you, nothing else. Any extra service is paid for separately and in advance.”

“I get the feeling you're trying to recruit me.”

“I like you, but no, more girls mean more competition. I'll tell it like it is, and you can decide what you want to do. What do you do for a living right now, if you don't mind me asking?” Claire was interested.

“I'm a gym instructor, part-time,” she replied.

Everyone in Sadie’s family had to have a job since the moment they turned sixteen, because the bills didn't pay themselves, and hunting didn't make money, but nothing that would take up so much of their time that they couldn't fulfill their duties.

“You'd make more in the two minutes it takes them to drink from you than you would in a month's work,” Claire said.

“Does it hurt a lot to be bitten?” she asked.

“Oh, no, just a few seconds, and there are even vampires who do it so gently that you hardly notice,” Claire assured her. “They have something in their saliva that makes it not hurt. It's even... not orgasmic, but post-orgasmic. You know that feeling you get when you cum really hard and for a while your brain feels like cotton candy? Like that.”

“I don't think I've ever felt that,” she lied to get Claire to keep talking. She had experienced it a couple of times, but it had been a long time ago.

“Oh, well, you don't know what you're missing, it's a wonderful feeling.”

“And do you... do you have sex with him?” she whispered, glancing sideways at the vampire accompanying her, who was still talking to Tim.

“No, though I do with others. Men and women. You haven't had real cunnilingus until you've had it done by a female vampire.”

“I believe you. Tim,” she called him, “I need to go to the bathroom, can you come with me?”

“Sure. Nice talking to you, Antoine. What did you think?” He asked her when they were far enough away.

“She's nice, but too intense for my taste.”

“Yes, I agree with that,” Tim approved, amused. “She's not on drugs, in case you're wondering; the rules of the fleurs-de-lis prohibit it. That's just the way she is. If you'd like to meet some less intense ones, I can introduce you to them.”

“Yes?”

“Besides, I need a sip of fresh blood,” he said.

“Oh.”

The disappointment must have shown on her face, because Tim replied:

“Unless you offer, and I know you won't, I have to eat.”

“I don't want to be bitten, not by you, not by anyone,” she confirmed.

“So that's it. Let's go.”

They went to a couch area, where there were several human women chatting with each other and drinking, though not alcohol.

“Hi, girls,” he greeted them with a big smile, “My friend and I are tired, can we sit down?”

“Anything for you, handsome,” said one of them, an Asian-looking brunette, patting the free space next to her.

“Jia, my flower, can I have a drink?” he continued, sitting down.

“Sure, drink,” she agreed, offering him her wrist. “But don't forget to pay me after.”

“You know I never forget.”

Fascinated as well as disgusted, Sadie watched as Tim bit into the offered wrist, but still making eye contact with her. Disturbed, she looked away.

“Why aren't you feeding your vampire?” asked another of the fleur-de-lis, a redhead with very large eyes.

“Oh, no, he's not my vampire, we're just friends.”

“Ah. I don't want to be rude or anything, but if you're not one of us, and it's evident that you're not, and he's not your boyfriend, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Sadie is going through a somewhat difficult personal situation,” Tim answered before she could do so, saving her from having to lie, “so I offered to take her out of the house for a while, to distract her from her problems.”

“And you brought her to a fleur-de-lis party because…?” asked Jia.

“Because you throw the best parties. And because I still have to eat.”

“Yeah... Where's Anya, by the way? We thought you were coming with her,” asked the redhead.

“We've called it quits,” said Tim. The fleurs-de-lis let out exclamations of disappointment in their support. “No, it's okay, she wanted something from me that I couldn't give her.”

“She's a romantic, that's why we never told her to join,” said a third fleur-de-lis, a blonde, in a knowing tone.

“That's not why, we haven't told her because she's practically a bite junkie,” said Jia in a dismissive tone. “She doesn't have what it takes to do this job and not end up dead. I'm sorry, I know it sounds awful, but that's the way it is; the poor thing doesn't know when to stop and never has.”

“I think she's changed lately,” Tim defended her. “I mean, she's the one who broke up with me.”

“Because she wanted to be your girlfriend, not because she wanted to stop,” replied Jia. “She's a bit too much of a party animal, if you know what I mean.”

“A piece of advice: don't be blinded by glamour,” said the blonde. “Always be very clear about the reality of the situation.”

“And that is…?” Sadie wanted to know.

“They're vampires, and we're just beautifully packaged food. They pay us well, it's true, but most of them don't appreciate us,” explained the blonde fleur-de-lis.

“There are always exceptions, like Tim, but it's not the norm,” Jia added. “This is all purely transactional, and if a fleur-de-lis hangs up her robes for one of her clients, it's because she's pretty sure she'll end up a vampire.”

“There are several old fleur-de-lis among the ladies with fangs tonight,” said the redhead in a tone of confidence.

“Yes, but let's not talk about work anymore, huh” -said Jia.

“Oh, I have a hilarious anecdote! Do you know what happened to me the other day? I went to a friend's birthday party, and her little daughter…”

They were chatting and laughing for a while, until, after having had several non-alcoholic cocktails, Sadie had to go to the restroom for real this time.

“Go out that door and continue down the corridor,” said Jia, pointing to the door in question with the hand that held her glass. “The bathrooms are on the right, you can't miss them.”

“Thank you.”

Before she could reach the door, however, a vampire woman stepped out in front of her. Tall as a model, with dark skin, very long braids decorated with gold rings and a golden dress with stiletto sandals. She looked like a representation of some primordial goddess.

“Good evening, little flower!” The vampire greeted her. “I haven't seen you here before, are you new in town?”

“Yes, I... well, I moved here a few months ago.”

“If you need a friend, I can be your friend,” the vampire continued, smiling. She took a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waitress and handed it to her. Sadie took it out of inertia. “My name is Chantal,” she introduced herself, toasting her and taking a sip from her own blood-filled glass.

“Sadie, nice to meet you. It's just that I, uh... I already have a friend,” she replied, feeling the heat rise in her neck and face.

“Oh, I'm sure they don't mind, besides, a girl like you should have lots of friends.”

Was that vampire flirting with her or had she just mistaken her for another fleur-de-lis? Or both at the same time? Unsure, she took a sip of champagne.

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Girl, don't be ashamed, there's nothing wrong with this!” The vampire laughed, “Besides, I know you're one of mine, I've seen how your eyes went to my cleavage.”

“Oh, well, it's just that it's a spectacular dress, and you look great in it,” she excused herself.

“Thank you, it's an exclusive model,” answered the vampire, running one of her hands along the bodice of the dress. “In every way.”

“I don't want to be rude, I really don't, but I was going to the bathroom and, anyway, I'm not a fleur-de-lis, I was just invited to the party.”

“You're not? Oh, sorry, with that mouth-watering smell and that appearance I just assumed you had to be. Anyway, if you ever feel like meeting up, you can give me a call,” Chantal added, holding out her card.

“I'll think about it. If you'll excuse me...” she said, pointing to the door.

“Of course, go ahead. I'll see you around, little not-a-fleur-de lis.”

After that, it didn't take her long to find the washroom, and she was already washing her hands when a woman about her age came in, crying.

“Are you all right?” she asked the other girl while drying her hands with a paper towel.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I thought no one was there…”

“Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm Sadie, did someone hurt you?”

“Rose, nice to meet you. No, it's just... my boyfriend just broke up with me,” she confessed.

“Wow, I'm so sorry. What happened? If you want to talk about it, of course, you don't have to tell me.”

“I started this job to put myself through college, you know? Nothing else. Two years ago, I met Kenneth, and we fell in love. After a year together, I felt it was time to tell him what I was doing,” Rose explained. “I wanted to be honest with him; that was my biggest mistake. I don't have sex with any of my clients, ever, I just let them drink from me, but Kenneth didn't like it and that's when the fights started. He says if I really loved him, I'd get another job. Another job! I pay for everything, my expenses and his, and he has the nerve to tell me...!” She couldn't finish the sentence, because she started crying again.

“You're better off without him,” Sadie assured her, rubbing Rose’s back in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

“But I love him!” Rose protested.

“Sometimes it's not enough. Kenneth takes advantage of the benefits of your job, but he judges you for it, is that fair?” asked Sadie.

“No.”

“And is it fair for you to stay with a man who, on top of that, doesn't trust you?” She continued. “Because if I understand you correctly, one of his problems is that he thinks you're cheating on him.”

“Yes, that's a big problem for him,” Rose confirmed.

“But you haven't cheated on him, even though you could earn more if you did, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, is it fair that he doesn't trust you even though you've never done anything to betray his trust?” she reiterated.

“No. But I shouldn't have come to this party... he warned me, that if I came, he would leave me.”

“Why did you do it? I mean, why did you come to the party if you knew Kenneth wouldn't like it?”

“Because several of my vampires have moved out of town, and I need to get new contacts,” Rose explained, wiping away her tears.

“You came to do business. To make sure you're still making enough money to support both of you,” Sadie said. “He has nothing to complain about, and he shouldn't have given you an ultimatum. I assume you share an apartment” Rose nodded “and that your name is the only one on the lease.”

“Yes.”

“Well, time for you to give him an ultimatum,” Sadie said. “Either he gets out of your fucking place, or you call the police and have him removed. Tonight. You don't want to see him when you get back.”

“But where's he going to sleep? Besides, if I call the police, I run the risk of being reported for prostitution... I don't want to be filed.”

“I came with a very nice vampire, maybe he can throw Kenneth out and erase his memory,” suggested Sadie. “And as for where he's going to sleep, that's not your problem, it's his for putting you down like that.”

“Okay... Anyway, now that he's left me, the rules say he has to forget everything.”

“Well, let's go.”

Tim was still chatting with Jia and her friends when Sadie returned, accompanied by another girl, who looked like she had been crying. Sadie waved him over.

“Excuse me, I'm wanted. Is something wrong?” he asked, approaching.

“This is Rose, her boyfriend had the nerve to dump her over the phone,” Sadie informed him.

“I'm so sorry, Rose, but what have I got to do with it?”

“Her ex is at her apartment right now, and since he knows what Rose does for a living, he needs his memory wiped.”

“Oh, I see. Well, we'll have to fix that. Are you here with someone?” He wanted to know.

“No, I came by cab because my car is in the repair shop.”

“All right then, we'll give you a lift.”

Following Rose's directions, he drove to her home in Boyle Heights. On the way, Rose calmed down enough to think about doing a little networking with him, who kept his card and promised to call her.

“So, you're not her boyfriend?” Rose asked.

“We're just friends.

“How did you two meet?” Rose wanted to know.

“At a club,” Sadie answered laconically. “Is that your building?”

“Yes, we've arrived. You can park in the number seven spot, Tim, that's mine.”

Rose lived on a third floor. As the elevator went up, her nervousness increased and her confidence disappeared; Tim could sense it in the way her thoughts swirled, spinning uncontrollably. Sadie must have noticed it too, because she grabbed her hand.

“Don't worry, we're with you,” she said.

Rose nodded. The fleur-de-lis hadn't noticed, but now her new friend held the knife in her other hand. Tim looked at her, questioningly, but she merely shrugged her shoulders slightly. He understood her to mean ‘just in case.’

Rose went in first. Even though it was almost midnight, her boyfriend was in the living room, watching TV, dozing. He barely turned toward the noise when Rose opened the door and walked in, but straightened up, wide awake, when he saw that she wasn't alone.

“I can't believe you brought one of them to our home,” he said dismissively, looking at Tim.

“Our home?” Rose repeated, incredulous, and suddenly very angry, “Our home?! This is my home! You just live here for free. And you know what? You're going to leave right now.”

“Are you out of your mind? It's midnight! Where am I supposed to go?”

“I don't care,” Rose replied, “I went to that party to work, and you have the balls to break up with me via text? And on top of that, when I get back you're still here. I remind you that it's my name on the lease!”

“I was hoping you'd change your mind,” said Kenneth, disappointed.

“What?” Rose asked, puzzled.

“I thought that if I dumped you, you'd come back, and we'd make peace,” he explained. “I thought you'd change your mind about continuing to be... a whore, basically.”

“Oh, for all the angels in heaven and demons in hell, I've told you a thousand times, I don't have sex with my clients!” Rose exclaimed, exasperated. “Why can't you believe me?”

“Why did you bring them here, if not for a threesome?” Kenneth countered.

“I brought Sadie to give me some moral support, and Tim to erase your memory,” explained Rose. “I'm sorry, but those are the rules: you can't go on knowing of their existence now that we're no longer a couple.”

Kenneth wanted to get up, but before Tim could intervene, Sadie did.

“Sit back down,” she ordered, threatening him with the knife. Kenneth obeyed. Sadie moved to his side and pressed the blade flat against his cheek. “Stay very still; if you move, the tip of the blade will go through your lower eyelid and into your eye, do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Tim, do your thing before this idiot stabs himself in the eye, and we have to take him to the emergency room.”

“Kenneth, look me in the eye and listen carefully...”

After Rose’s problem was taken care of, as Tim drove her back home, Sadie felt his eyes on her every few minutes.

“Look at the road,” she scolded him.

“Girl, that was... even I was scared,” he said after a while of silence.

“Liar,” she accused him.

Vampires weren't afraid of anything, least of all humans; they were at the top of the food chain, and they knew it. Not even a young vampire like Tim would be afraid of someone like her, unless she managed to catch him by surprise, and in that case, he shouldn't even have time to be afraid.

“No, I'm telling you the truth,” he replied. “It made my testicles shrink and everything.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

“I swear. You'd make a terrifying vampire, even as a newborn.”

“I wouldn't last two days as a vampire,” she contradicted him.

“Why not?”

“I'd hate myself so much I'd kill myself.”

“But you don't hate me,” he said. “Or do you?”

“I don't hate you, but it's different,” she said. “I may not like that you have to drink blood, but I accept that it's what you have to do to survive. If I had to do it myself, I don't think I could.”

“You would. Your instinct would take over,” he assured her. “It disgusts you now, but when you're a vampire you see things differently. We've arrived,” he announced, stopping the car. “Do you need my help sneaking in?”

“No, I'll be fine. Thanks for tonight, Tim,” she said, and surprising herself, reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “See you, sweet fangs” she said goodbye, leaving before she could think too much.

Sneaking back into her room was not difficult for her. However, when she landed with the softness of a cat on the carpet, the light on her bedside table came on: Jack was waiting for her.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Out.”

“Where?” insisted his brother.

“At a party.”

“A vampire party?”

“No, I didn't go hunting, it was just a party. You know what they are, don't you?” she asked, sarcastically, as she started to change into her pajamas.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sadie? You've never acted like this before.”

“Like what?” she asked, annoyed.

“First you don't kill that vampire, even though you don't seem to have a problem with taking out any of the others, then you start saying ‘let's see if it turns out there are good vampires, and we don't know about it’, and then you run off to go to a party like you're a fucking teenager,” her brother enumerated.

“I don't have an answer that can satisfy you, Jack,” she replied. “Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave, I want to sleep.”

“This won't stay like that,” her brother warned, getting up. “Arthur and Dad will know about this.”

“You can kiss my ass, all three of you,” she replied. “Now, get the hell out of my room.”

[cryptid-pet]

Vampire Hunter x Vampire Headcanons

Week 2 Day 1 >>> Caruki Month

I feel like Ruki would be the vampire hunter in this case and let me tell you why

I don’t think it’s canon already (feel free to correct me if I am wrong) but since Ruki was once human, his families believed heavily into religion at one point before their downfall

Possibly, even being in the orphanage, Ruki tried his best to keep his natural belief going to survive

It works 🙂

Years later, now 18, Ruki found himself working under the church towards hunting

demons opposed to god. He doesn’t fully understand it since he joined at 16, nor does to this day, but follows instructions well

Whereas for Carla, yes, he isn’t a Founder (Because in this AU a Founder//First Blood necessarily isn’t a thing or least has been discovered)

Carla is rather a big deal in the Demon World, known very well for his intimidating appearance (Unlike his brother, Shin)

Now how does this one human and immortal meet?

Carla runs into Ruki, while Ruki isn’t even on his duty

The strange thing about Carla, as a vampire, is that he likes to study human’s behavior- Then will come to the surface at night to watch them

He knows how to blend into their society, and simply speaks English fluently which he must’ve studied on his own time before falling through with entering the human world

Ruki was on his way home from studying late and promised to make his three brothers dinner straightaway. 

His natural route to get home was blocked off due to construction and then he takes the detour through the woods, where he met Carla

It’s awkward, yet with the knowledge known, Ruki right away was able to tell he bumped into a demon

It’s rather interesting to see one that isn’t aggressive or shows hatred towards the human race

Carla doesn’t trust Ruki fully and flees after a moment of silence, and it’s only three weeks until the two encounter one another once more

Sorta…Carla winds up following Ruki from very far away after the first encounter, and takes it as a time to study human activity, behavior, etc off him 

Mind you Ruki does know he’s being watched by someone, but just fails to take account of whom is watching him

The first time they two really spoke to each other was when Ruki caught Carla at his bedroom window studying the human activity before falling asleep for the night

Carla, for an intelligent man of his kind, CAN speak English, but couldn’t read whatever the fuck was in Ruki’s book, it didn’t make sense

Soooo not only was it mortal’s life he was studying, it was the English Language itself in a different form other than verbal (reading AND writing it)

This point on, it was a deal: Ruki wouldn’t capture Carla for the church and teach him how to read, in exchange of his life//Carla not to take his blood 

And it's a fair deal, but at what cost?

Letting the imagination of you readers do the rest >>>

[mochi-art-blogz]

General rules:

Before we can get to the fun stuff of my little blog, we have to get through the obligatory ground rules.

Rule 1: Discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated. This includes just general bullying and discrimination based on religion and beliefs, race, disabilities, etc. This behavior will lead to getting blocked and reported.

Rule 2: No spamming in the ask box. I won't always get to them immediately, so be patient.

Rule 3: If you don't like what you see on my blog, simply leave. Do not leave necessary hate comments or anything that is generally mean-spirited.

Rule 4: This goes without saying, but treat other users with respect on this blog, and outside of this blog.

Rule 5: I don't take commissions at the time, nor do I do digital art at the moment, either. Do not beg for commissions (whenever I do eventually begin those).

Things that I normally tolerate on my blog.

My blog will include my own original art and stories, some of which might include darker themes. Typically, I will add titles and tags to differentiate them from more average or wholesome posts on my blog.

Speaking of NSFW, I do write nsfw stories, and I will always tag those as NSFW or add a warning to differentiate them as well. This includes not only upsetting emotional stories, but also sexual stories such as smut, headcanons, or even some of my art, which could be suggestive and include nudity.

If you do not enjoy these, simply just scroll on.

Various fandoms I am in.

As stated in my first post, I am in a lot of fandoms, some more than others, and I wasn't able to properly list all of them. So here is a more varied list (specifically various anime, as I am a weeb):

Mha

Haikyuu

Given

Aot

Sailor Moon

Cardcaptor Sakura

Princess Tutu

Lucky Star

Chobits

Smile Precure

Doki Doki Precure

Hunter X Hunter

Panty and Stocking

Powerpuff Girls Z

Little Witch Academia

Sailor Moon Crystal

Naruto

Tokyo Ghoul

Inuyasha

Tokyo Mew Mew A la mode

Elfen Lied

Blood C+

Rosario Vampire

Highschool DxD

Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni

Highschool Of the Dead

Sword Art Online

Mirai Nikki

Dangonronpa

FLCL

Other stuff

So far, this is pretty much general rules those who come across should follow. The various fandoms I am in, which should help narrow down an audience or maybe even grow it, and give you an idea of what to expect from my blog.

While we are on the topic of blogs, just in case I ever get that far, I think it's best to talk about retiring or archiving this blog. I know how it feels to find a very great Tumblr blog, only to find out they have archived or ended their blog (especially when it's a rather niche subject or fandom). I don't really plan on ever doing so. Will I take long breaks in between when life begins to become more prominent? Yes. But will I ever get rid of this blog? Most likely not.

I'm way more likely to simply choose a completely different hyperfixation and make that the main focus of my blog (That's adhd for you). Though I'll always keep older posts related to other fandoms or subjects for those who enjoy my work. At the end of the day, this blog is meant for me to share my creativity and have fun. And I hope I am able to bring enjoyment to whomever decides to be a part of it!

XOXO

~ Mochi/Avery.

[katyspersonal]

Top Five Vilebloods, Katy. Humor me ☕️

Allrighty! It can be a bit hard since 'Cainhurst Noble' and 'Vileblood' are different things; one is just the aristocracy, another is clan bound through consanguineous contact... I will just pick more notable characters by intuition instead, it will just feel simpler, you know? Basically 'vampires and snobs and whatever: The List TM'

Five - King of Cainhurst!

We do not know anything about him besides the fact that he was killed by Logarius OOF, but I think he deserves much more attention and recognition. I just wish we knew MORE things than just cut content design and implications. I really lore to speculate and write for this character, though!

Four - Imposter Iosefka

And maybe her sister. Again, not to downvote Iosefka in any way, but I am just focusing on something more apparent. The Imposter knows Cainhurst's secret potion recipe, is the second character in the setting to mention 'moon scent' (another is Annalise), there is a Cainhurst invitation in the room where she invaded from, and she does get pregnant like Arianna, said to be picked for "dirty" blood.

I feel like the trope of a goddamn deserter is very appropriate here! The girl abandoned her roots and switched sides to pursue something else, perhaps she resented the "dirty" blood of their nobles and that bought her into Church's propaganda. She feels on the similar page as Maria and Adeline... Really complicated and interesting character, much deeper than what meets the eye. And Miyazaki considers her "heroic" for some reason! I think he means the fact she turns people into Kin so they physically can't become beasts instead. (He seems to honor the concept of sacrificing moral principles for what you BELIEVE is better for humanity a LOT... x) It is a consistent quirk...)

Three - Arianna!

She is precious and deserves a much better fate. She is the secret legitimate heir to Cainhurst's throne (had Annalise not locked it by immortality flex heheh) and I will DIE on this headcanon. I love her displaying concern for female Hunter, that uhhhh... "rewarding" her would be dishonuorable and filthy. She feels inferior to other women because of what she has to do, which is heart-breaking... I love seeing portrayals of her being alive and raising her eldrich baby, usually with someone helping her.

Two - Maria!

Some of the most beautiful designs, very elegant, and the most fun boss battle in the game. A character with a lot going on with her, she sure has big sword but she ALSO has a big heart, and this is very important. Without much words and lore (because that's Soulsborne, come ooooon), Maria feels incredibly well-written and complex, she is a warrior fell in her own eyes by threading the dark path. She rejected one affiliation she distasted... only to end up with another. Bloody clan or blood-hungry ruthless hunters, which is worse?

And in both cases, it doesn't seem like she can truly hate either. The design of Cainhurst is still in her clothes and sword, and in the cut content she asks for respect for old hunter Gehrman despite now resenting him for "madness of his curiosity". I feel like this is just the person that she is - she could not truly turn on someone. Even disliking Blood Saints and maybe Church altogether, Maria chose to at least support patients that believed in its success rather than "dismantle the oppressive establishment board by board". She is not weak, but she is tender, to a fault. I love complex warrior characters like this more than ones strictly powerful that never feel fear, doubt and never hold connections dear even if they are destructive ones. She reminds me of Yamamura a lot, in terms of a warrior that was strong and great but.. ended up taking more than they could handle.

One - Annalise!

Ahhhh, shit, wrong picture!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heeeere you go!

I know, it could be strange to put her first after my emotional rant about Maria just now, but... This top is for Vilebloods, is it not? She is, indeed, THE most Vileblood character ever. She is LITEALLY vampire queen!!!

I adore her demeanor and her minimalistic yet so original design. It is easier seen in Japanese original script rather than English, but she tends to drop the royal 'we' in personal moments. She doesn't let the first person that was nice to her in a LONG while to endanger themselves with the ritual, even if that means conceiving another child of blood. She probably let the Church get to her mind too with how she speaks of her own clan as depraved and corrupt, however, for someone who lost her entire castle and nobles, she keeps a VERY brave face. haha... face... xd You see what I am saying. She radiates incredible pride (the good kind of it) and self-confidence for someone in her situation, she is a TRUE Queen not just in status, but in spirit too.

___________________________

(Dis)honorable mention: Bloody Crow of Cainhurst!!!! He is not even IN this list because he is BELOW 5th place! I had to grind god knows how long to finally beat his ass!!!! He is so strong that he needs a boss healthbar ffs, why this DEMON is so stupidly overpowered?? No, 'git gud' is not a good advice on how to beat him AAAAAAAAAAAA

Thanks for the ask!

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Four

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

The training continues, and Leona shares an intimate lunch with her favorite Hunter.

Hello!

I'm putting a trigger warning here again, because the chapter contains blood and its consumption! I know that I have this among the tags, but just in case! :D

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Four

.......................................

I take a silent sip of my coffee, enjoying the leftovers of my breakfast when I finally don't have to mentally prepare myself for one of MacTavish's or Garrick's sadistic training ideas, despite the fact that my body is slowly getting used to the torture and constant pain. I suspect that this has something to do with me being an Extreme, because no matter how much we Healers lag behind the Hunters in terms of physical endurance and stamina, our bodies adapt to the load sooner and recover faster. Of course, this is probably just a nice side effect of our role, because how the hell would we survive when these energy vampires suck us dry if we wouldn't at least be able to pull ourselves together faster than an average person?

Of course, from this small success, a slight joy blooms in my soul, but I can't appreciate it in the least, because more serious thoughts are swirling in my mind, which causes gloom to creep onto my features. And it seems that I radiate just enough sinister energy, because the soldiers lounging in the cafeteria only dare to measure me with furtive glances, and they mostly avoid me, like they would do with a leper. I don't blame them, because if I were them, I would be terrified to venture with a free and accessible surface of skin near a person who could break the line of my pathetic little life with one touch. But right now, it's not the attention being paid to me that bothers me, but rather the aftermath of my little intimate moment with Riley.

As much as it still fills me with perverse joy that the highest-class Hunter of the Liquidation Unit 141 was bent out of shape thanks to my machinations, I'd be lying if I said his behavior didn't raise my blood pressure since then. Of course, whoever cooked the shit should eat it too, but the man has retaliated with meanness and harshness that belied my predictions and expectations every damned day since then. I knew he had enough pride and dedication to his duty that he wouldn't stop the training. I also expected that his coldness would return, after all, I had already managed to decipher that not only was his nature like that of a carved wooden doll, but his defense mechanism was equally effective. After all, since the afternoon, when he burned the imprint of his hand on my neck as a nice new necklace in response to our nice little chat, he redoubled his efforts and kept his distance from me even more enthusiastically than before. And when he has to use his mouth, because I deliberately don't pay attention to his nonverbal instructions and pantomime play, then he speaks to me with as much kindness as if I was some pesky dirty thing from under the sole of his shoe. And sure enough, those comments of his aim to penetrate my soul just as deeply as my answers try to get a rise out of him. Of course, while I found this amusing at first, because it showed that, despite appearances, I really got closer to solving the man's nature, but after a while, I also got tired of playing verbal ping pong with a wall. I know that I provoked him, I sought trouble for myself, but I didn't expect that his subsequent behavior would get on my nerves much more.

Surprisingly, however, he conducts my teaching with incredible professionalism, which sets off thousands of speculative thoughts in the winding paths of my gray matter. Because he sends the message that although he doesn't really want to treat me as a human being, he still has such perfectionism in him that he expects the maximum from me every time we stray into each other's space within the confines of my training. And I'd rather kill myself by biting my own tongue and choking on it, than admit that he does provide me with a lot of useful tricks, even though an execution would probably be a more enjoyable activity for both of us. And it is still an unsolved mystery to me as to why I let all this spoil my mood so skillfully. Because I got what I wanted, I got a reaction out of him, which helped me take the first step on the bumpy road which will lead me to solve the Hunter's enigmatic behavior. And yet, in the hidden back corners of my head, there's a dark, disgusting feeling that I can't identify. I would rather help my head meet the hard material of the tabletop if it would help my brain cells recalibrate these silly thoughts, because there is no point in getting annoyed by something that I know is the guaranteed end result of my own behavior.

I look at the clock on the wall of the cafeteria with a tired sigh, and for the first time, I'm glad that I can get into another exciting workout, because at least the charm of the novel experience will be able to distract my mind from this slippery slope caused by the masked Hunter. Although the thought of what kind of goodies Price has in store for me already fills me with pain, nevertheless, pouring the last drops of my coffee down my throat, I stand up, forcing my limbs screaming for rest into action, and I head towards the exit of the cafeteria, leaving my mug na plate on one of the counters lined up there. It is possible that my sloppy movements and my unusually high amount of disgust with life are also due to the fact that I am forced to go on a marathon diet for the first time in my life. Despite Laswell's assurances, that I would be kept at least as well as an animal waiting for slaughter, I was not once entertained with a tasty morsel during the two and a half weeks since my arrival. I have been forced to go without blood for a long time before, but considering that my body is trying to adapt to new challenges in survival mode, I know that this is not the point when I can play with my hunger. Even though I'm not actively healing my injuries, my body uses my energy automatically to at least push me to the brink of normal functioning. I feel that I still have some extra power left in me, but it won't be like that for long. And I'm going to hunt down a cute little soldier boy before begging Price or Laswell to spare some blood for me. Maybe I'm making my own life harder, but I've never begged in my life, and I'm not going to start now.

I stride along the long corridors with determined steps, which I have now managed to memorize enough so that my little team dares to leave me to wander alone, which I consider to be really a brave decision. Of course, both they and I know that the security system of the entire base is tight enough that I wouldn't have a chance of slipping out unnoticed. And honestly, the thought of escaping seems like such a far-fetched dream that, for a while now, I haven't wasted my brainpower to observe where each exit leads to, and how many soldiers are patrolling there. I can realistically assess that the best chance I have to skillfully get out of here is if they voluntarily escort me out into the outside world. And even then, there is the not-so-negligible problem that I would somehow have to survive the inevitable encounter with the monsters. And sweet little girls like me don't usually live through these kinds of fun experiences without proper planning. Of course, reminding myself that I'm sinking into ever greater depths of the sea of shit doesn't help my mood, and because of this, if possible, I walk even more nervously towards the scene of my training today.

And as soon as the double doors of the supposed gym appear before my eyes, I pull the corners of my mouth into a gloomy grimace from the sound of enthusiastic shouting emanating from inside. Placing my palm on the door, I open it with a firm movement, and my eyebrows run to the middle of my forehead as I take in the sight unfolding before me. I don't know what ideas I had when I heard the name "gym", but I did certainly not think, based on any of my mental images, that the sonorous term intended to cover a real battlefield. And although looking to the side, I recognize one or two metal monsters suitable for physical training along the walls of the room, my attention is immediately drawn to the fighting ring standing in the middle, in which my favorite captain is currently pounding a young boy into the ground.

The closer I get to the gladiator performance mocked as training, the clearer it becomes how carefully Price handles the guy, who nevertheless slowly looks akin to the gray cat appearing in archive cartoons, who is miraculously disposed of by the mouse for the hundredth time. Despite this, he fights heroically, and after he falls to the ground, he stands up again and tries to attack the Hunter, who only smiles and deflects the blows directed at him. For Price, this might just be a little bit of fun, but the boy takes the whole ordeal so seriously that my heart almost feels genuinely sorry for him. Almost. Because he has no chance, yet he tries again and again, and the crowd of soldiers standing around the ring shouts and cheers him on, as if the guy would really have a sliver of hope to win. All these antics seem pointless, because even though I've never been near a monster, I've studied their behavior enough during my work to know that if he can't prevail here, he'll only buy enough time with his small weapons on a real mission that he'll be torn apart by a behemoth mutant a minute later then usual. My cynicism seems cruel, but it doesn't change the fact that plenty of the many eager little soldiers won't return from deployment without a Hunter by their side to help them survive. And even then, with luck, they'll come back, but not necessarily in one piece.

"That's enough, Riggs!" Price finally stops the match, and the guy grabs hold of the ropes of the ring gasping for air. "Nice work. Go get some rest." The man pats the boy on the shoulder, and a proud smile appears on his face, as the little soldier nods and walks out of the little arena to his companions who enthusiastically clap him on the back.

Of course, I don't have to wait long for the Hunter to notice me, because as his eyes scan the small crowd in search of his next victim, his eyes find me almost immediately, which brings an infinite cheerfulness to his face. Clearly, my arrival has only increased his already high spirits, and this makes me suspect that he probably has the same excitement for me as for the little guy who got his ass whopped. I could've guessed that this would happen sooner or later, because I'm not so naive as to believe that only MacTavish and Garrick enjoy sadism during training.

"I'm glad you found your way here, Woods!" He shouts enthusiastically, which suddenly make all eyes turn towards me, and indeed they are filled with the very readable emotions of confusion and caution. Now, for the first time, I sympathize with them, because even I can't imagine why he feels that it was a good idea to invite me here.

"Yes, unfortunately, it was quite difficult to get lost." I answer cynically, and I already feel that even though nothing has happened yet, the first sparks of nervousness are igniting in my mind, thereby worsening my already not-so-rosy mood. And now I know for sure, that hunger has something to do with it, because it certainly doesn't help that all my nerves are on edge waiting to see what crap the man comes up with.

He doesn't seem to be bothered in the slightest by the murderous temper I exude as I stand as still as a sculpture, with folded hands in front of my chest in the middle of the mob gathered around me, because he strolls out of the ring and heads towards me with the ease of a true leader.

"Attention soldiers, today is a special day. Woods is joining us, so get your act together!" The captain starts to lecture, and his voice automatically attracts the attention of everyone present. He walks towards me with heavy steps, and when one of his gloved hands rests on my shoulder, I involuntarily tense up as I realize how he towers over me. Again, I just need to make the mental note that no matter how harmless he looks, he's still just a Hunter who could easily kill me. He wouldn't even have to try that hard. That's why the paternalistic attitude towards me and the soldiers is so annoying. "We have to give her a hand in her training, so I expect the best from you!"

Almost simultaneously, the sound of agreement echoes through the soldiers, and I can feel it on my skin how their previous puzzlement suddenly changes and is replaced by excited anticipation and slight pity. They don't dare to say it, or show it in particular, but over the years I've honed my perception fine enough to know that every little bastard here is almost trembling in waiting for the opportunity to deal with the nasty, evil criminal who has invaded their little nest. There is no doubt that many of them greeted my arrival with, at best, skepticism, if not fear mixed with hostility, and I could enjoy the effect of this every day when I appeared near them. And now they will have the chance to show how better they think they are. How cute.

"Don't worry Woods, I've got something else for you, than for the newbies." Price reassures me and takes me by the shoulder to guide me toward the ring, and I reluctantly allow him to lead me there. Because I really have no choice but to cooperate with him, whatever delicacies he came up for me.

We stop in front of the fihting enclosure, and he helpfully pulls apart the ropes delimiting the ring in front of me, silently instructing me to enter the scene of my suffering. I flash a dark look at him, then comply with his request and climb in, quickly studying my surroundings with my eyes.

"I read in your file that you attended the mandatory military course during your studies." Says Price, easily stating the facts, and I slowly turn back to him wondering why he feels that he must now deepen my experiences from ten years ago. It's obvious that if I go on a mission, I won't have a chance to survive with my bare hands, so I'll be equipped with weapons, preferably protected behind a Hunter. After all, if the goal is to be able to use me on their small adventures, then I should stay out of the monsters' way as much as possible. And I have even less chance to use my knowledge against Hunters who have been trained to kill all their lives. That's why I don't understand why I need to develop skills that I won't be able to use. Of course, I don't deny that it would definitely come in handy if I could learn something useful here, but I already have proven methods of neutralizing targets who get close enough. Price seems to forget that I can kill with a touch and a burst of energy. "It included hand-to-hand combat, yeah?"

Of course, at the mention of my little basic training, some soldiers' faces light up with glee, and the joy that appears in their expressions is almost pathetic. It's fairly certain that they believe, just because they were thrown here by chance or due to blind patriotism, and they've been taught about the rules of survival for a few months, then that will be just sufficient to crush me easily. However, they forget a very important factor. The reality of what I am. This fact separates me from simple people like them. And I declare this with the greatest awareness of my arrogance.

"Yes, although I don't think anyone would want to come within arm's reach of me." I state innocently, with a small, albeit rather malicious smile on my face, running my eyes over the small audience, who suddenly realize why they had kept their distance from me until now.

"Don't worry about that, these guys are tougher than they look." Price assures me in a calm tone, and his features show that he understands perfectly what I'm trying to demonstrate to his students here, but there's no need to fret, because he won't let my mean little hands do anything dangerous. It's not like I'm stupid enough to let myself be caught red-handed. It didn't end well the last time I tried it. "Douglas! It's your turn!" He turns his back towards the soldiers behind him, and at his command, a well-built, but rather young-looking boy moves from the crowd and fights his way into the ring with his chest puffed out.

Douglas halts in front of me and straightens his back with such confidence, while surrounded by the cheers of his little friends, that it is quite ridiculous. Although he might only be eighteen years old, and barely a half foot out of puberty, he has already managed to grow to such a size that he could make anyone feel uneasy. Judging from how his peers are trying to fire him up, it is not incorrect to presume that even though he is a newbie he has some skills, which at least partially justify his behavior. And no matter how much it crosses my mind that I tend to lure similar boys to dinner, I don't let that thought develop any further, because considering Price's training methods, he is more than capable of sending me to the floor.

"Since I'd like you to survive fieldwork, you must improve in hand-to-hand combat as well. But today the goal is to see what you're capable of now." The captain mentions the reason for the entire little circus today casually while folding his arms comfortably in front of his chest, as if he were just a teacher who just wants to observe how wild his students can be if they are left to their own devices. "I want you to do what you've always done. I want to see what you know. " He declares with the utmost confidence, and I stare down at him with narrowed eyes, with a grimace on my face that clearly tells him that he has lost his marbles. Price must have had heatstroke in the overheated, sweat-smelling room, because he seems to seriously forget exactly what he saw in my file.

"Are you sure you want that?" I ask, and I don't even try to hide the graveness in my voice, because even though the young guy is probably able to take care of me, he's still only a normal human, and as soon as I get my hands on a cloth-free surface of skin, I can knock him out in seconds. And even I can grasp what an idiot the captain is for letting his little apprentice into a potentially deadly trap. Of course, the notion occurs to me that neither Price nor the rest of the base are aware of exactly how quickly and unfairly I am capable of lashing out at others. Therefore, the man can rightfully be curious about what sneaky little tricks I have up my sleeve.

At my statement, of course, disbelief takes over the faces of the new recruits for a moment, but as Douglas shakes off all his fear, and just puts a mocking smile on his face, his companions once again find the strength of malicious joy, which gives them the incentive to start shouting quite enthusiastically. Price silences them with a small wave, and stepping closer to the ring, he leans close to me through the ropes.

"The goal is not to retrain you. But to further develop what you have." He explains softly, yet his deep voice contains such honest determination that even I am taken aback by it. Until now, I was certain that even though they wanted me to be tougher, the ultimate goal was to train me to be an obedient pet. And the thought that Price would like me to use my talents to the fullest pushes my brain down some very interesting rabbit holes. The stray idea that this man and his companions (with one very terrifying and irritating exception, of course) really mean well, and might be able to accept me one day with all my dangerous practices, gives me a rather strange warmth in my belly. And if I were a little more naive, I would truly believe that they do. But a second is enough and I steel myself again, because now is not the time to analyze the meaning of these small gestures.

"I can't guarantee he won't get hurt." I warn the man seriously, but he only gives a small smile in response, and pats my arm as he steps back to give the limelight to the newbie and me.

"The fight lasts until someone gets on the ground. Douglas, give it your all! Woods, don't hold back!" Price gives out the instructions, and his words are met with a roar of excitement from the small group of people gathered around the arena, as they encourage my opponent to give it everything he got and knock me out as soon as possible.

I take one last look at the Hunter, and finally, I turn all my attention to the soldier in front of me, who adjusts his training gloves and takes up a fighting stance with his legs slightly apart, and his hands raised in front of him, with a determination in his eyes that says I can't expect anything good if it depends on him. How fortunate that, unlike him, I have no illusions about what the other can do. I let the series of habits acquired over the years take over me, and I feel my consciousness adjusting to the state that usually dominates me during my hunts. The dull waves of hunger appearing in the depths of my stomach are now helping my mind shift into the state that has helped me imagine myself as a predator with almost blessed efficiency.

My gaze glides over him at lightning speed, and it's quite obvious from his posture and the way his whole body tenses up like a spring ready to jump, that he has enough combat experience to chew me up. Even if he wouldn't be able to pull such a feat, he still has the physical advantage, and that alone is enough for me to immediately conjure up an army of tactics in my head to defeat him. Because losing is not an option. It would only give the mob what they want and prove what they believe about me. That I'm a slothful little leech, whose only use is to serve their superiors. And I'd rather make a necklace out of my own guts than let that happen.

Douglas gets bored of our staring match the first, bridges the distance between us with a few steps, and moving close enough he swings one of his fists, and I can register from his first movements that he is not afraid to cause pain, even if I seem relatively weak and defenseless. But before he can hit me, I dance away from him with light movements and dodge his blow. He turns his head towards me bewildered, and I see the surprise appear in his features for a fleeting moment, for which I only give a small, mocking smile to him. Although I'm not physically as strong as him, and I don't have months of persistent training behind me, thank heaven, biology compensates for this deficiency. Because even though I don't come close to the Hunters, as an Extreme my reflexes and sharp little eyes have ensured that I can get out of difficult situations in mostly one piece. Even a normal person could compete with this little skill, if I wouldn't be a mean bastard and use every little advantage to play dirty. And I have just enough experience in how to trick others.

I take advantage of his momentary shock and start circling him with deliberate slowness, and it does not escape my attention how his shoulders jerk after observing my activities. The pride disappears from his face, and he follows my every step with concentration, as if he is waiting for the predator to pounce, and he is not mistaken. The goal really is to find a gap in his defense, but as always, it's better to get him to willingly give me an opportunity to attack.

And I must have annoyed him enough with my little ploy for him to take the fight seriously, because when I pause not far behind him, waiting, the unmistakable scowl of rage blooms on his face. He springs into action with such fervor that I narrowly dodge his next blow, and it doesn't come as a surprise when his right hook hits my side dead-on. The pain ripples through my ribs like lightning, but it sobers me up enough to try to get close to him before he can start to fix my face next. But he easily avoids my swinging fist, so I'm forced to nudge his knee with my foot in the meanest way possible, almost teasingly, with just enough force to make him hiss in pain and back away from me before he can do more damage to me.

My rather insidious little move unsettles him for just a moment, and as his face turns redder with the fury raging inside him, I grin, belying the pain throbbing in my ribs. The crowd around us is now screaming advice and egg on Douglas to stop playing and to finally take care of me, and there is no doubt that even without his fans he has reached the point where he feels no need to be subtle. And I'm just waiting for him to become careless and leave me a tiny little opening.

That's why, when he lunges toward me again, I just stand stiffly waiting for his strike. And I don't have to be disappointed, he quickly appears in front of me and lashes out at me with all his strength in his angry left jab, but before I can even experience what kind of anger he wants to convey to my face, the clever reflexes of my kind kick in. My hand suddenly reaches towards his and my fingers wrap around his forearm, and this startles him just enough for me to take advantage of his surprise and thrust my other little paw into his face with the speed of a viper about to bite. My palm smooths over his mouth open from shock, my fingers dig into his shaved skin, and I can already feel my energy running through me. And as the first wave of my power reaches him, he doesn't even have time to understand what's happening, because his eyes roll back immediately, and his body goes limp on the floor of the ring with a huge thump.

In the sudden silence that settles in the room, the chirping of a cricket would be ear-piercing, and I just measure up the passed-out guy who lies on the ground with the elegance of a starfish with much indifference. I feel a little sorry when I remember that the poor guy will be playing dead for a while because of my little tricks, but then I quickly settle the tiny weakness of my heart inside myself, because it's his captain who insisted that I fight him by showing off my sneaky skills. If Price didn't demand for me to toughen up, sooner or later he would have simply beat the pants off of me, there's no doubt about that.

The stunned immobility of the room is interrupted by Price, who climbs onto the arena, steps towards Dougles, and checks if the boy is really just taking his well-deserved beauty sleep. And when he is sure that the soldier is indeed still alive, he picks up his limp body with an effortless movement, gestures for a few guys to move closer, and hands them their unconscious comrade. When my victim is safe, the captain turns all his attention to me, and I feel an irrational sense of doubt and defensiveness rise up in me, because I'm almost certain, by seeing his expression, that he will now express his displeasure with my show.

However, real astonishment settles into my every fiber, as the man steps closer and firmly pats my shoulder with a satisfied smile appearing on his face. And in the way, he looks down at me gently, I don't feel any malice, but only warmth, which makes me quite uncertain as to what hell is going on here. Because I was quite sure that even if he wanted to see with his own eyes what I could do, he wouldn't be happy when he saw me in my element after I let go of my nice girl person and let loose. I was convinced that when he was confronted with the fact that I didn't just look dangerous on the pages of my file, but that I was actually a savage bitch, he would have the same disgust and condemnation in his eyes as anyone with an iota of common sense. And yet, I don't see any trace of contempt as I study his features utterly perplexed.

"Good work." He tenderly squeezes my shoulder, and the small gesture gives me a confused tingle in my stomach, which I can't identify when was the last time I felt, so it sufficiently deepens my bafflement. "We can work with this." He announces firmly, and his deep voice rings with real determination. "But it won't be an easy ride, so get ready! It's my turn now!"

Instead of the possibilities of potential pain appearing in my head from his statement, for some reason, a completely new motivation rears its head inside me. I can't tell if it's his aura or the unspoken promise that he really wants to see me as more than just an object, but it suddenly seems easy to overcome the excruciating pressure of hunger and fatigue weighing down on me. And fueled by this newfound enthusiasm, I position myself ready to attack, eagerly preparing for whatever difficulty Price throws my way, because no matter what, I will not disappoint. Because neither he nor I will let failure be an option.

⃰*

I stare rigidly at the tiny crack running along the ceiling with my eyes, and by now I've checked about a hundred times how many centimeters it might be. I had time for it, because I had been awake since the dull pain first appeared in my stomach, which has been tightening around my insides like a vise ever since. It's been a long time since I've felt hunger show up like this, and although I'm not yet in a state that makes me feel disgusted with mysefl, I want my food just enough to keep me up through the night.

I haven't consumed a single drop of blood since I arrived here, and a little fasting wouldn't be anything new to me, but considering that every damned day my dear teammates have amortized me with new surprises, I've crossed the line where I can comfortably tolerate the gnawing pain in my stomach. And although I vowed not to beg for my delicious snack, after yesterday's training session with Price, I got to the point where I considered taking out my more charming self and trying out my persuasion skills. Fortunately, the captain seemed to be counting the days of my fast, because after kicking my ass in every way possible and sending me to the ground in the ring God knows how many times, he announced that the next day Laswell would finally come to the base with my goodies. And I squirmed awake from the thought all night, until I assumed my current position, mentally chanting that the morning would come as soon as possible.

The sun's rays have been high for a long time now, and they paint the wall of my small room in warm light, but still, no one has come to invite me to the breakfast intended for me, or more like an early lunch now. And I'm getting more and more nervous and impatient by the minute, and with every noise that filters in from beyond my door, I look at the handle ready to jump, to see if it moves at last. I'm fully aware that this whole situation is pathetic, but the urge to scold myself for this has long since passed. I save my strength for when I finally have to drag myself out of here, so that at least the appearance of being relaxed and carefree can remain. For my pride would not let them see the ways in which I am tormented by hunger, which they actually forced me into.

It occurred to me at some point during the night, that it must have been quite intentional on their part to force me into fasting because they knew I needed blood and not just on holidays. By now they could have also guessed that my body tries to regenerate itself even if I don't consciously use energy. So it should have also occurred to them that my appetite would come back much earlier than expected, yet they let the fun drag on until this point. Of course, it's not easy to get blood, because it has to be obtained officially, from professional donors, who were probably only recently approached, because, to the best of my knowledge, there are no other stars like me in colony No. 17 who could have needed this service until now. And I'm the most understanding person ever, but at the same time, it is also certain that this does not allay my suspicion about this whole thing being a deliberate step to punish me. I suspect that this is just one of the many tests they want to use to see how far they can stretch the string inside me.

My musings are interrupted by a knock, and I sit up so quickly that sudden dizziness creeps onto me, and I have to grab the edge of the bed for support. For a hot minute, it seems that I might just be hallucinating, but when the intruder tries to break the door down again, I finally jump out of bed and run to the door in such haste, that I have to pause for a moment before I would wrap my fingers around the door handle, to protect it my image. And when the entrance to my room opens to reveal a menacingly huge figure, I'm already blessing my restraint because I'd swallow my own tongue before letting Riley see me desperate. Because apparently, instead of all the possible applicants, he was ordered to the threshold of my small abode to collect me for my presumably cordially served main course.

And almost reflexively, a sour expression of irritation appears on my face, which I don't even try to hide or banish, because I can feel a similar burst of enthusiasm radiate from him at the sight of me. Although I had already gotten used to his indecipherable, yet overwhelming gazes during training, in my current state I had lost all sense of humor to tolerate him. In other circumstances, I might even tease him a little to get our little pastime off to a better start, but the night spent awake and the ache turning like a knife in my stomach trample on the beginning buds of my sassy comments.

"Laswell wants to see you." He informs me briefly, and I would prefer to shove the fucking mask on his head down his throat, as his dark eyes, studying me, settle purposefully on my obviously worn face. And I can imagine how much pleasure this can give him, because even though he may be taking on the role of a statue in front of me, it doesn't take much brainpower to figure out that the past few weeks had surely put him in the mood to watch my agony.

"Wonderful." I reply in a similar concise manner, and by stepping toward him I force him to back away. My door closes behind me with a loud bang, and I look up at him expectantly, suggesting that he show me the way to the nice station chief of the base, because my relative patience will soon run out. Especially in his company.

Without a word, he begins our journey to the heart of the base, I follow him with similar silence, and for the first time, I do not regret that I don't have the strength to entertain him with my humor and sharp tongue. Because now I don't have the slightest desire to continue experiencing the complicated situation that arose between the two of us. And as my eyes instinctively stray to his broad back in front of me, the question of how long the cat-and-mouse game between the two of us will last flashes into my mind again. I know that he won't reward my similarly nice behavior towards him with just mean comments, strictness, and criticism forever, and for some reason this makes me feel morbidly excited. I'm slowly starting to get familiar with this cold and hard side of him, and even though I'm getting tired of him not allowing me to have similar experiences to the one I encountered in our first training session, the insatiable desire to penetrate his hard exterior further still rages in me. And I still can't explain why this urge awakens in me, why I feel the need to solve Riley's mystery, but there is a curiosity in me that annoys me just enough to not let me turn the pages over the story. Although I should be satisfied with the few things I have at my disposal, that I can use to anger him enough to lose his concentration, so I'm able to attack if necessary, but unfortunately, my sick thirst for knowledge does not allow me to do that.

As usual, the base is buzzing with busy soldiers, and I'm slowly getting used to seeing this sight everywhere except the solitude of my room. Still, malicious joy awakens in my dark little soul, as the faces of the people are filled with fear or even caution, and they whisper behind my back as I stroll away next to them. I can safely assume that the unfortunate adventure of their little comrade with me has already reached all of their cute little ears, and it fills me with happiness to know that my little demonstration of strength was enough for them to keep a meter distance from me, if they had not done so before. Because even their fear is better than being looked down upon.

However, my attention is diverted from my joy when the Hunter leading the way suddenly stops, and with only great luck do I manage to pull myself out of the sea of my thoughts, so that I can stop before I crash into him. I look up annoyed, and as I identify the sign of the infirmary, I only raise one of my eyebrows in interest. I find it very ironic that they chose a place for me to exercise my eating habits, which the residents of the base visit out of dire need, but most of the time they don't come for a snack, unlike me. It's like taking a fox to the henhouse.

Riley opens the entrance to the infirmary with a firm move and enters without waiting for my reaction, and I follow him with exceptional obedience. Upon stepping inside, the sterile smell of disinfectant hits my nose almost immediately, and for some reason, it stirs up a painfully nostalgic feeling in me, as my head protests against the intrusive smell with a slight throbbing. It reminds me of the days I spent in the lab, and for the first time since my arrival, I feel the absence caused by the loss of my career. How sad that I can no longer hunch over microscopes and lab results. I suspect it would feel like a walk in a park compared to my current situation.

"Woods! How nice to see you in one piece!" Laswell appears behind the door opening from the side of the infirmary, and I take careful notice of the security system activating with a soft beep after she exits. I only need to look at the control panel on the wall, and I know that the secret little room can only be the medical storage, where she presumably hid all my potential goodies. It is quite a clever move of her to place an unbreachable obstacle between me and the object of my hunger, for even though I know that relief could be within arm's reach, I will always be dependent on them. Fucking fantastic.

"I thought you would never honor me with fulfilling your end of the deal." I remark with indifference, and as a faint, but omniscient smile appears on her face, I suddenly feel an irresistible desire to quench my thirst with her blood. The look on her face tells just enough to confirm that my diet was a deliberate show of power. Of course, it is understandable that she resorts to such vile methods, because although I am currently living in my relatively cooperative era, no one has forgotten that I spent a good portion of my life with illegal entertainment. And maybe we both know that habits die hard.

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten what I promised. That's why you're here." She explains, and then in her hand, she flashes the bag smuggled out of the storage, in which shines the deep red of the one thing I've so enthusiastically come all this way for. "Have a seat." She requests, as she invites me to make myself comfortable while gesturing towards one of the immaculate beds, and I don't take my eyes off the blood bag for even a minute as I jump onto the hospital bed. And suddenly I could swear that that special metallic, yet sweet aroma reaches my nose even through the plastic. I know that it's just my mind playing tricks on me, and I have to force myself out of the spell that was cast on me just by the sight of the red liquid. I've always had a strong reaction to blood, but over the years my morbid fear of getting caught has proven to be enough of a motivating force to develop self-restraint. Of course, this is a much more difficult task when hunger is persistently digging its claws into my stomach.

"I was hoping you didn't call me here to chat." I make my little stingy comment to the woman, and her self-confident calm still doesn't waver, and I seriously wonder what the hell they're taking around here, that puts them always in such a crazy good mood. "I'm not in the mood for that now."

Without further ado, I reach for the bag, because now I really have no patience for arguments, but the woman simply shakes her head, as if she would want to explain to a confused child why she can't eat sweets for dinner. This frustrates me enough to make my eyebrows furrow impatiently and I nervously purse my mouth shut, because why the hell is this chick wasting my time now?

"We act in accordance with the legal regulations, and according to this, a Hunter must supervise your feeding." She begins, and I automatically flash my glance at the man mentioned, who just wanders to the wall opposite me with lazy steps, to lean against it comfortably with his hands folded in front of his chest. No way.

"Absolutely not." I snap at her almost immediately, because the thought of Riley being the one to accompany me while my lovely little snack takes over my consciousness, fills me with anger and fear at the same time. No one has ever witnessed how I consume blood because I know how the whole process affects me. And I don't need that to be analyzed by someone who is capable of using it against me.

"Although I understand that this can be stressful, unfortunately, we'll do this the legal way. The regulations were set in place for a reason, you should know that the best." Laswell covertly points out the obvious fact that the eating habits of my kind have probably already caused problems. Although she probably doesn't realize how much self-control I have, it would be futile to deny that she's right to assume, that if I get sufficiently lost in my meals I'd want a little dessert in the form of one of the innocent bastards living here. A valid, but inaccurate assumption.

I could correct her and argue about sticking her fucking rules where I suspect spiders have been weaving their webs for a while, but there would be no point. She has a tight expression on her face that tells me there is no argument that will soften her heart to my problem, and I am far more hungry to drag out this scenario even a minute longer. So I just roll my eyes with spectacular boredom and sigh in irritation, giving my silent consent to this whole circus. I'm forced to swallow this bitter pill, because I don't want to provoke a little punishment from the woman, and I suspect that she would have no problem hiding my snack where she got it from, if I'd still feel like resisting.

"Ghost is only here to look out for you." She adds pointing to the Hunter in question with her free hand, and her features soften as she observes the fact of my acquiescence. "There is no need to feel uncomfortable." She assures me almost kindly, but she can't awaken any other emotion in me with her attentiveness, apart from irritation. Because instead of the man, I would rather invite any of his friends to chat over my lunch. "Enjoy your meal!" Laswell finally hands me the damn bag with a morbid little comment, and I just follow her out of the corner of my eye as she walks to the door of the infirmary and leaves the room.

And as the entrance closes with a soft click, the room becomes so quiet that even I can feel the tension sparking, which holds me back from eating my food right away. Placing the plastic bag in my lap, I direct my gaze to the man who is comfortably posing as a statue a few meters away from me, and by now I'm measuring him up almost automatically, searching for signs from which I can uncover what might be going on under the mask. His tall figure is dressed in casual clothes today as well, his black tactical pants fit comfortably around his long legs, and his arms emerge from under the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie, and now for the first time, I can see the tattoos on his left forearm. His body, wrapped in dark clothes, forms a gloomy contrast with the immaculate white walls, and although his posture seems relaxed, he still exudes a warning aura. As he stands, it would be almost impossible to decipher anything of what might be going on in his head, but I'm slowly getting the hang of what I have to look for. My scrutinizing glance falls on his face covered with a mask, and I find it interesting that today he chose his disguise with the addition of a skull, and not his simple balaclava, because for some reason I have the vague feeling that he wants to hide as much as possible from my curiosity. By now he could have realized that I was trying to read his every little move, and therefore decided to minimize all his interactions with me, so as not to give me a chance to probe any deeper. But this only makes me greedier, because it suggests that what he's hiding is worth revealing.

"What are you waiting for?" The question comes from him in a rather apathetic voice, and I merely tilt my head in interest, because I see the graveness flashing in those brown eyes, as he glances at the bag resting on my lap for a second.

"Are you in a hurry to be somewhere, perhaps?" I ask him, and the beginning of a mocking smile involuntarily finds its way to the corner of my mouth. I deem his impatience strange, even though I know he really has better things to do than play babysitter here. And yet, this starts a chain of tangled thoughts in my mind, which makes me increasingly interested in why he is here now instead of one of his friends. I'm sure any of them could have taken on the honorable task of watching me sucking a bag of blood dry, but here he is. I doubt it was his sense of duty that kept him from turning down the invitation, because he could have made someone else take the task on. As an SSS-class Hunter, he obviously has this privilege.

"I'm not the one needin' this shit to survive." He remarks, nodding to the bag with his head, and the movement itself is filled with such contempt that it reflexively ignites anger in me. "So stop babbling, I know you've been waiting for this all this time." He interjects his little commentary, which has an edge that could definitely kill anyone.

He doesn't even try to hide the disdain from his deep voice, and it's impossible to miss the way his eyes narrow and small wrinkles appear on the painted skin around them, and I can almost see him pulling his mouth in a distaste under the material of the mask. By now I could have gotten used to his comments, but still, when he hits me with his harsh words in a moment of weakness, when I am hungry, the desire for revenge flares up in me. Because, once again, he is acting hypocritically and forgets that we both walk in the same shoes, and we both need something, without which we would face serious problems in no time.

And that raises the suspicion in me, that this is exactly why he is here. He wants to witness me finally broken and weak, in a state where I'm vulnerable, so he can have a taste of the perverted pleasure he gave me earlier. This is now the time for revenge, and he wants to enjoy every moment of backing me into a corner, and experience how the mask of confidence and pride slips away from my reach. There is no doubt, that he would like his presence to embarrass me so that he can finally break off my horn that I’ve used to poke him with so enthusiastically until now. Because why wouldn't I feel humiliated by doing something that until now, I have probably done in my private moments because of discomfort and fear, and which reveals that I can intimidated and shamed by something too. But he's dead wrong if he believes that I'm not willing to overcome my shyness when it comes to preserving my pride.

It is true that I have been at a disadvantage until now, but I did not allow them to see me as weak because of the sick expectations I had of myself. And Riley could rightly assume that now would finally be the chance for him to admire what I looked like when I became undone, and he would have certainly used this information against me at the first opportunity. Very cunning of him, because from this I can conclude that we both like to search for weaknesses in the other, and I almost appreciate that he wants to gain an advantage over me in such an insidious way. While I usually provoke him in my devious ways, he seizes the opportunity in a much simpler and more straightforward way. And I, driven by this realization, decide not to deny him what he came for. I'll give him the show he so desperately wants and make sure he enjoys it.

"Sometimes I forget that you think we are different." I sprinkle the backhanded remark lightly, and in the meantime I playfully run my fingers over the little tubes on the top of the blood bag, keeping my eyes on his, which is suddenly filled with delicious anger at my little statement. It's not completely unexpected that I talk back even in this situation, but it irritates him all the more what I want to convey to him with my words.

"Drink, or I'll take it." He warns, and his voice is filled with palpable tension, which brings back the excited thrill to my stomach that I felt during our very first training session. For some reason, every time his hard voice deepens with his accent, and his tone alone promises unimaginable consequences, I feel a masochistic desire to find out if he really fulfills his promises. I've never experienced this part of my personality before in my life, and I should probably be worried about my new discovery, yet it's hard to stop my machinations. Despite the fact that I know I can easily acquire another pretty bruise or two like last time.

"You're wrong if you think that I am the only one dependent on something." I lift the plastic bag in my hands, measuring its red contents with nonchalant calmness, and slowly lick my lips as the first excited shiver runs through my body at the promise of a delicious bite. "My dietary preferences may be questionable, but let's not forget that out of the two of us, I wouldn't be the one to slaughter half the base if I ran out of power." I shed light on the basis of his hypocritical behavior, and when I leisurely my gaze slides over his figure, I see how a muscle jumps on his sculpted forearm.

I realize that this was a low blow, even from me, but it would be a shame to sweep the facts under the rug. It seems that he likes to pretend that he doesn't need my Healer skills, so that when the battery of the little Hunter inevitably runs out, he doesn't harm his little friends. However, we both know that there was already an example of this exact thing in the history of the Hunters, and there was certainly much to clean up after the aforementioned unfortunate killing spree. "Shut up and drink." He orders menacingly, and it seems, his patience is running out, but this is what he gets if he tries to deny reality so vehemently. Because I'm not afraid of the truth, but someone who does everything, maybe even puts on a mask, to escape from some unseen evil, can find it very difficult to make peace with the weaknesses inherent in their nature.

"You don't have to judge me, Riley. We both try to suppress our instincts, but sooner or later they catch up with us." I point out the truth, and in the meantime, I easily undo the opening of one of the tubes on the bag with my fingers, and forcefully keep a careless smile on my face in order to hold back the relief that overwhelms me from the sweet scent of blood.

"You're the only one driven by instincts here." He retorts, and in this one sentence, he condenses every drop of his growing venom, which rings crystal clear behind his words. But that doesn't upset me, because I've already settled into my role and prepared to show him the performance he came here for. It would be cruel to deprive him of that joy, even if the intimate moment will probably turn out differently than he expected.

"Hmm, maybe." I answer with comfortable laziness while tilting my head to the side, and I watch his body pulsating with tension, which makes him look like a panther ready to pounce, which can't wait to sink its claws into its victim. "But at least I'm not denying it." I shrug, forcing all the indifference in the world into myself, and with this last remark, I release the control that has kept me from throwing myself on my lunch with the elegance of a starving beast. And before he has a chance to react, I raise the bag and place my lips on the tube, and the relieved sigh that breaks out of me after the first sip, visibly shuts down what he wants to say.

The sour, yet chillingly familiar taste of blood spreads on my tongue, and as the liquid travels down my throat, the well-known warmth floods my insides, and an involuntary moan breaks out of me as I close my eyes and surrender to the feeling. I greedily suck at the contents of the bag, and with each swallowed portion, the excited trembling in my body increase, and the familiar buzzing fills my head, which erases all the dirty details of the outside world. Now, however, I grab all the remaining threads of focus and direct it on the man in front of me, because even though I vowed to give him a show, I can't let myself go completely, no matter how much the heat of the blood traveling to my belly pulls me towards the euphoria of unconsciousness.

And apparently, he is quite captivated by the sight of my feeding, because his eyes never leave my figure sitting on the bed, and his undivided attention on me gives me an evil satisfaction. To an outside observer, it may seem that he is not overly impressed as I consume the substance of the bag in large gulps, which in itself could drive anyone close to disgust. But I know that he is not bothered by the blood, but rather by my little performance, because he cannot hide how his broad shoulders rise up tensely, and the way he almost imperceptibly tries to press himself against the wall even more. I only gift him with a cheeky snort, and as I get lost in the wonderful taste of blood again, I enjoy the way my senses are filled by the pulsing warmth growing under my skin and the melody of his deep breaths reaching my ears.

I stop my activities for a minute, when I open my eyes and fix my gaze on the Hunter, and I feel the hot grip in my stomach intensify as our eyes meet. The dark sparks that sit in those brown eyes are inexplicable, and suddenly I don't even want to know what they could mean, because their heat almost burns my skin. The intoxicating fog covering my brain doesn't let me ponder on this question any further, but the excited buzzing in my limbs makes me want to go even further in my show. Therefore, tilting my head back, I touch the tube to my lips again, and lifting the bag, I allow the sweet stupor of blood to fill my consciousness yet again.

Glancing at him from under my eyelashes, I maintain eye contact and let the fingers of my free hand slowly trace the line of my throat, thus describing the path of the red liquid swallowed in slow sips. I don't even try to hold back the mischievous smile that creeps on my face when his jaw tightens under his mask, and I wonder for a fleeting second if he wishes he could wrap his hands around my neck again to end all of this. I'm sure he's already regretted starting this game a thousand times, because his whole being seems to become more and more on edge by the minute, and the tension emanating from him is almost gnawing at my skin. I'm close to being mesmerized by the way the muscles dance under his tattooed skin as his folded arms press tighter to his chest, and that only intensifies the fiery tingle in my stomach.

His eyes tear away from me as his gaze follows the line of my fingers, and when they travel with a feather-light touch along my chest and the delicate curve of my breasts hidden under the green T-shirt, he moves and pushes himself away from the wall so suddenly that I instinctively reach for the edge of the bed below me and grab into the fine fabric with my fingers. His entire body exudes the fierceness of a predator ready to lunge, and this only fuels the recklessness in my mind, which is already emboldened by the blood. The game I indulged in is quite dangerous, but even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to stop, because the perverse joy of once again being able to penetrate the stoic mask of the Hunter awakens in me. He takes a threatening step toward me, and every one of my nerves tightens and flutters with anticipation as he slowly closes the gaping distance between us. When he stops just a few steps shy from me and stares down at me from behind his mask, he almost dwarfs me, but this does not drive away the morbid excitement that settles in me. Because this is now similar to what I experienced during our last incident, but the ominous power that emanates from him is radically different, and I eagerly drink in all its vibrations.

I empty the contents of the bag with one last sip, then squeeze the last drops into my open mouth, and I feel a drop escape and run down my chin. I throw the empty plastic onto the bed with a nonchalantly, and catching the escaping drop of blood with my index finger, I follow its path all the way to my mouth, and I grin as his gaze follows my finger again. And as I lift my hand to my mouth and playfully clean off the last bite of my lunch with my tongue, his hands clench into fists with a force that seems almost painful, and now I can guess that he would really prefer to squeeze my neck with them. It's a shame that he has once again given himself up to my bullying and can't do anything about it.

"You were right. I really am a creature of instinct." I speak for the first time, breaking the heavy silence, and I let my energy still invigorated by the heat of the blood guide me, when I jump off the bed and step closely in front of him. I might be only reaching up to his shoulders, yet I feel more powerful than ever, even if all this fun has made the web of my thoughts about him even more complicated. "But it's only a matter of time, and it turns out whether you are too. Let's hope you're better than me." I taunt him, putting a small smile on my lips, when his eyes narrow dangerously at my statement.

But I just slip past him with the lightness of satiety and the drunken courage that settles on my mind, to then head for the door of the infirmary, because for my part, I consider the whole situation finished here. I even surprised myself with how beneficially the spark of my anger helped me through the entire meal, but I'm not sure if my brave little stunt did any good for my relationship with the Hunter. It has not been free of excitement so far either, but this current action of mine, sponsored by my courage awakened in my euphoric state, raised the tension between the two of us to a completely new level. Because I'm sure he was a hair's breadth away from doing something really nasty to me for my teasing, that I wouldn't have gotten out of with just the nice necklace of his fingerprints. And even though I gained another insight into what causes him to lose his composure, I still have the sinister suspicion, that sooner or later I will bear the consequences. And maybe I'm looking forward to it. How sick.

I take one last look at him as I open the infirmary door and stand on the threshold, and he continues to watch me with the same intensity as he followed through my lunch. And from the way every one of his muscles still remains in tense rigidness as he stands by the bed, I have a faint intuition that although he must have gotten something for his efforts, he doesn't seem nearly satisfied. And this puts the bug in my ear, which keeps chirping that our little conflict will soon reach its peak, and I won't like it one bit. We'll see.

[sleepy-achilles]

@theundertakeriscoming requested-

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

And I thought I'd treat yall.

Hbtaker, Vampire x werewolf WWE au-

Shawn was a werewolf. Taker was a Vampire. They are destined to hate each other. It was the one thing people knew to be true. John finds out, this isn't exactly the truth when he watches Taker playfully tease the mutt and make him blush.

Vampire x werewolf, non Wwe au-

The valley was not home to humans. All the creatures living their looked human, but that was just not the case. So when Hunter and his family move there, they find this out the hard way. Hunter befriends the towns misfits, the kliq, whilst Stephanie befriends the towns gossip, goldust, and the leader of the valley, Taker. They both learn the stories of how Taker has been at war with the towns pretty boy for years. How Shawn and Taker despise each other, how their families always despised each other. However, whilst they are listening to these stories, the wolf and vamp are cuddled up in bed together after a long night, discussing the new humans in town.

Hbtaker- God Au

Shawn and taker are gods. They roamed the earth for a long long time. They were at the battle when olympus fell, when Altantis sunk. They were put in charge of the earth, to watch over it and its creatures. They were also ordered to not interfere with anything natural. Any wars, any disasters, unless they were God made, not human made. They, also like most gods, were mated. Gods/Godess are introduced to their life partners at a young age. They grow and learn together. They evolve together. And when they turn 18 (which for them was centuries ago) and they complete the bond with a ceremony. One of the partners will be assigned the more passive role whilst the other will be a more aggressive role. (Almost like the whole alpha and omega thing) That was the only time Shawn and Taker ever did anything like that. And now, hiding amongst the humans on earth once they find out the cause of Atlantis sinking is being questioned and bad people are looking for it but also Shawn, they make new friends, they question their relationship and bond. Their friends question it. Kane questions it. (Yeah kane and Paul are also gods who chose to stay by takers side) and the truth gets revealed about the men once danger gets too close.

Hbtaker

Shawn is back and better than ever. He's in the middle of a match when he hears Kurt bad mouthing taker on commentary. The moment taker doesn't respond Shawn finds himself standing up for the man. This isnt the man that hurt him, this is a human, the real version of that man. And his whole motorbiker thing is hot. Shawn ends up punching Kurt only to receive a sly comment made about him and bret. This shuts Shawn down and leaves taker to stand up for him. After the show, shawns making his way back when he swears he hears crying. He goes to the staircase to see taker crying. What troubles him is taker isnt making a noise. Taker asks him why he spoke up for him. Shawn says something that leaves them both stumped for a long time. "Everybody needs a friend." Vince sees the whole match (obviously) and with the push of Paul, who has alternative motives for shawn, vince forces them to become a tag team. The boys struggle with their feelings as they become the top tag team. Taker struggles with everything once he finds out about Paul, he becomes more protective of Shawn and things become a lot more complicated between the two.

Leon- Criminal Minds (one of them atleast)

Leon Michaels was a troubled boy from a place in texas called Death Valley when Aaron Hotchner met him. Both boys had been sent to boarding school when they became forever friends. After school they got an apartment together when Aaron went off to law school and Leon off to the military. After a few, Aaron marries his highschool sweetheart and moves out and Leon? Leon gets betrayed by his team. Aaron has enough of lawyer life and turns to the fbi. That's when he gets a shock. He's in the induction room when Leon turns up. It's been a few years since they've spoken properly. They both end up on Jason Gideons and David Rossis team. Leon is called back for a important mission when Elle and Gideon leave the team and Emily and dave come back, which when he comes back leaves him and Emily confused. Emily doesn't know how to feel, she developes mixed feelings towards Leon that eventually turn romantic. The issue is, she keeps seeing how close Aaron and Leon are. Especially when haley and Aaron split. Leon has his own problems that he's being stalked by a unknown man. That the ghosts he's been seeing are becoming more and more consistent. That some of those ghosts might not be ghosts.

Leon- The conjuring (my baby)

Leon Michaels is the son of the devil himself. He gets injuried and badly hurt when he stumbles across the home of a young Ed and Lorraine who help him without hesitating. Lorraine goes to touch him when he finds out he's a demon. Despite this, she feels his pain, his betrayal and insists Ed continues to help him. Because of this Leon believes he owes them for everything. After finding a necklace that allows Lorraine and Leon to exist together without causing problems they start helping people. Ed and Lorraine protect Leon from the human world whilst Leon protects Them (mainly Ed because he's stupid) from the demon world. They start to face problems when Leon begins to get hunted by demon Hunters and his father. How long can Ed and Lorraine truly protect him before it's gone too far?

I have 100 more hbtaker ones but these are definitely my more developed ones.

[jetwhenitsmidnight]

Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco

Genre: gothic fantasy romance

If you like: polyam romance, vampire hunter x vampire(s), enemies to lovers, angst, Castlevania(idk what this is but apparently they are similar), Gideon the Ninth's sense of humour

Content warnings: blood, violence, (past) statutory rape, sexual coercion, body horror, semi-explicit sexual content(they get it on a lot, but there's no description of genitals and its mostly skimmed over)

Overall rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫/5

Synopsis

Remy Pendergast is many things: the only son of the Duke of Valenbonne, an elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires, and an outcast among his fellow Reapers. Though the kingdom of Aluria barely tolerates him, Remy’s father has been shaping him into a weapon to fight for the kingdom at any cost.

When a terrifying new breed of vampire is sighted outside of the city, Remy prepares to investigate alone. But then he encounters the shockingly warmhearted vampire heiress Xiaodan Song and her infuriatingly arrogant fiancé, vampire lord Zidan Malekh, who may hold the key to defeating the creatures. When he’s offered a spot alongside them to find the truth about the mutating virus Rot that’s plaguing the kingdom, Remy faces a choice—one he’s certain he’ll regret.

But as the three face dangerous hardships during their journey, Remy develops fond and complicated feelings for the couple. He begins to question what he holds true about vampires, as well as the story behind his own family legacy. As the Rot continues to spread across the kingdom, Remy must decide where his loyalties lie: with his father and the kingdom he’s been trained all his life to defend or the vampires who might just be the death of him.

Review

I genuinely can't remember the last time I had this much fun reading!

This book starts off with a whole fight scene, which was so brilliantly executed. Not just because it was cool as hell, but also because it introduces Remy in such a way that readers can get a sense of who his character is and his place in the story right off the bat. His ostracization from most of his fellow humans, his position and reputation as a Reaper; as well as his character: his determination to do what's right, his kindness, his stubbornness and impulsivity.

And I love how Remy's first meetings with each of his love interests perfectly sets up the dynamic for their relationship. Like, Remy and Malekh fighting from the very first time they meet, with Malekh goading him and Remy refusing to back down + Remy's immediate acceptance of Xiaodan and their easy banter, establishes the tone of their relationship from the jump, which is maintained throughout the book, while still allowing them to grow closer as they learn more about each other.

Remy also serves as an excellent narrator. Although he's slower on the uptake than Xiaodan and Malekh, he's still observant and intelligent, and has a snarky sense of humour, never failing to snark at the worst possible moments.

The action scenes were all so fun, and I think the way Remy holds his own against the stronger and faster vampires makes sense. Also the sex scenes ate (sometimes literally lmao).

I have a few nitpicks that keeps this book from being perfect for me, which aren't a problems, its just my personal tastes. I couldn't completely get behind Malekh, because I don't really enjoy brood-y, super-serious, edgy type characters. Which, he has good reasons for being so, given his backstory, but some of his lines which were probably meant to come off as cool and sexy, made me scoff a little and take him less seriously. Other people would probably find him appealing, this is really just a case of "its not you, its me".

Another thing that took me out of the story was some of the names. I mentioned it here, and I do think its fun, but it removed me from the narrative a bit. Singing Waters is a cool-sounding name in english, but Changge Shui in mandarin sounds kind of dumb, and being named Yingyue would get you made fun of by Chinese people.

[bonjourxrenae]

OC SUNDAYS: Tom Lazarus "Laz" Thorn

picrew link: [x]

Laz is a weird guy who lives on the off-beat. He works as a phlebotomist by day, and stays up in the late night hours to talk to interesting folks at local cafes. In spite of his carefree, goofy nature, Laz's past is a bit of a mystery - which makes him the subject of study of a supernatural organization known as DERIMA.

Laz is a character that exists within the universe of an original story that's been floating in my head for several decades, which I've just been calling The Bayfield Chronicles. The story takes place in the titular Bayfield, which is an isolated port town bordered by a mountain range, open fields, and a large bay that opens up to the ocean. Within those borders live supernatural beings, which have been the study of a national organization known as DERIMA (the Deoxys Enterprise for the Research and Investigation of Mystical Affairs). There was a branch of the organization dedicated to eliminating supernatural threats, a team of elite slayers. But after the Bayfield Vampire Murders incident, that branch has since disbanded, and DERIMA has taken a more observational stance.

One of those former slayers, a woman named Ursula, is one of the lead case specialists working for DERIMA. Laz is both her current case subject, and her biggest liability.

Laz's backstory is a bit unclear (even to me!) But what is currently known about him is that he is a magic user, his entire body is being held together by said magic and a few staples, and by all accounts he should be dead.

His pale skin is riddled with magic runes. It's unclear how they got there - whether he put them there or not - but they seem to be a permanent feature on him. He tends to wear long sleeves and rarely wears anything that exposes his legs or torso, as he has what appears to be a very prominent, stapled-up Y-shaped incision on his chest.

Because he has a latent magic ability, he is classified as somewhat of an anomaly among DERIMA; he's human, but does not fall into the category of a supernatural such as the vampires, harpies, elves, shapeshifters that populate the area in and around Bayfield. I suspect he may be some sort of zombie or undead, but since he still has all his mental faculties (and I do use that phrase lightly) I'm not sure??

Magic is so present in his entire being that even his blood is tainted by it, which makes him easily detectable to supernaturals and leaves him susceptible to being overloaded with magic potential. To avoid his own magic destroying himself and everyone around him, he undergoes a monthly "magic dialysis," where his blood is cleansed of all magic.

In exchange for his cooperation as a case study and his voluntary work with testing experimental drugs for DERIMA, the organization has given Laz his own apartment, secured him a day job at an outpatient center, and allows him to do freelance magic work for the benefit of supenaturals under their protection. Laz uses his magic mostly to alter people's memories, but it does come at a small physical toll.

In addition to using magic, Laz loves sleight of hand magic tricks and reading. He reads a lot of horror (particularly the works of Clive Barker and Stephen King) and has been known to dabble in the occasional romance novel. He tends to hang out in cafes after his work shifts and lab days, and is very addicted to crunchy pastries.

So far, Laz has really only interacted with a few other characters, including an entire family of vampires, a few former vampire hunters, a paranoid vampire just trying to not be perceived, and his best friend, who is a literal fallen angel. But I'm having a blast developing a chaotic dumbass like him, and I'm excited to see where he takes me next! ^^

[joz-yyh]

Acta Est Fabula - Ch. 4

SUMMARY: Crimson Court AU. It took but one taste for his addiction to start. What's to become of their arrangement now? No Beta. Read at your own risk.

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant

RATING: M (sexual themes / messy handjobs / vampirism)

WORD COUNT: 3,724  

READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!

A/N: The moment this story earns its M-rating. It only took me three chapters to dive into the smut this time. A new record! XD

Please consider dropping a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed! :3 (Reynauld and Dismas as well as Junia and Boudica will be appearing next chappie! Hope ya'll are looking forward to it!)

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Tardif was in word: worried. It was unlike him, being so uncertain, Damian most assuredly the cause.

He didn't feel right leaving the vampire behind (even with Sebastian around to protect him), but the flagellant hadn't given him much of a choice in the matter.

So the hunter does as he had done prior, finding a spot just far enough away from the grisly scene to hold up, waiting in case the nobleman called for him.

He's never had such troublesome thoughts before, even when he tries to think of something else, anything else, his thoughts always steer toward that roiling taboo, lips and tongue still so full of longing.

Tardif had seen his fair share of bloodsuckers before, but none were as pale and pink and bloody as Damian. And damn, those wings. The way they shined like abalone shells, a labyrinth of intricate pieces like a dragonfly's, they were among the prettiest he'd ever come across.

Fascination builds at discovering such a rare creature as this, wanting to dissect him with his hands, pull him apart piece by piece until he learns all his secret parts.

With such daydreams in mind, the brute lays out across the boughs of a tree, arms crossed over his chest until exhaustion claims him, eyes slipping shut.

He's not sure how long he's dozing for, long enough that the sky is dark with shadow, the harsh squeal of a whistle jarring him awake.

So startled from his slumber, the unassuming brute falls from his perch, landing on the sodden turf below with a painful groan.

“My, my, it seems I found you first, my dear vampire hunter,” the flagellant purrs, delighting in what mischief he's caused.

Considering how they left things, Tardif is glad to see him alive, baser instincts subdued, inherited by his more human half. He could have done without the sneak attack, though.

“Wot are ye doin’ here,” the tired warrior grumbles, reorienting himself after his unceremonious fall, working out the cricks in his back.

“Perhaps,” Damian drawls, raking eyes over his partner in crime, “I’ve missed you.”

That comment has Tardif standing a little straighter, suddenly concerned with appearances.

The vampire insists on stalking circles around him, judging which part of his body he would like to indulge in more, the danger stoking the heat in the huntsman's stomach.

“Missed your lips,” the nobleman continues, sounding more feral with each passing word, “your blood.”

Oh.

“Is it really ye,” scrutinizes the axeman, noticing a remarkable change from the last time he saw him, “Are ye still Damian?”

He is different somehow. More cutthroat than before, shedding his hapless exterior in favor of allure and power, his skin seeming to glow with a sheen of iridescent scales if it catches the stars just right. He remembers the same coloring from the soft membrane of wings, but they're absent now, tucked out of sight.

“Do you require proof,” the vampire jests, having far too much fun with his food.

“Maybe,” the brute drawls, reminding himself to stay on guard, that his friend might not have regained full control over himself yet.

The brute follows his movements from the corner of his eye, twisting just enough to watch as the nobleman creeps around his back, almost out of sight.

Tardif jumps, flinching as the devious flagellant slashes a hole in his pants, playful near his tail bone, just above his buttocks.

Bastard. Who does he think he is?

Slack-jawed by this pursuit, it takes a moment for his senses to catch up, the muddled warrior spinning on his heel, turning to face his offender with a growl.

“I know of a party happening soon,” Damian chuckles, watching as his companion checks for blood, but he was precise in his application, sparing his delicate human pelt.

Tardif snorts at the attempt. “Any bloodsucker worth their marrow would know that.”

“Then, what can I offer you, vampire hunter,” he taunts, a blonde eyebrow raised in intrigue.

“Can think of a few things,” Tardif teases, though his thoughts are far from innocent.

“Pick one and maybe I'll consider it,” the vampire prompts, head canted with thinly veiled interest.

“How bout, I give ye more of my blood?”

“But my dear hunter,” Damian argues, amused by his unorthodox choice of tactics, “that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

All too vividly, he remembers how Tardif had severed skin, the wellspring that poured down the razor's edge of the knife, wishes to reenact the same profane ritual again.

“Sure, but ye haven't heard the rest yet.”

“Oh yes, do tell.”

“Wanna see wot ye got under those bloomer shorts of yers, first.”

Seems Damian wasn't expecting that, his face turning gibbous with surprise, a slip in his suave demeanor that he never truly recovers.

“That would be moving things rather quickly, wouldn't you say?”

“Pretty sure, that's how ye want it.”

Tardif isn’t afraid to blame the spiral of debauchery onto his companion, but the dubious aristocrat has a counter ready.

“Hm, perhaps your hunger exceeds mine.”

“Depends on how big of a drink yer takin’.”

“Just how much are you willing to give?’

“Depends on how far ye want to go.”

They speak in loops, dancing around each other when Damian breaks first, revealing the true extent of his craving.

“I want to bite you, claw you, eat you,” the flagellant admits, barely able to contain his desire.

“A lot to fit into one night, wouldn't ye say,” the huntsman teases, flattered by the extensive to-do list.

“Sebastian will make sure we're not bothered,” the vampire breathes, bringing himself closer, chest to chest, claws tracing around argyle armor.

“Ye planned this,” Tardif muses, impressed as he listens to nails outline the embellishments of his pauldron, then down his arm, making him shiver.

“Planned isn’t quite the word,” Damian hums, meditating on it, “Improvised. Impulsively sought out. Needed. Any of those are more apt.”

“Then, how's ‘bout we try that kiss again,” Tardif smirks, making himself all the more delectable, “If yer up to it.”

Damian is eager for this, quickly sealing the distance, gripping the huntsman's cowl, digging claws into fabric, though, he'd rather carve marks into him.

They're fumbling with impatience, sloppy and wet with no amount of finesse, but neither of them care, not at all.

It's more satisfying than last time, more sensation to be felt in his human flesh than the dichotomy of an insect, unable to resist placing small nips against the hunter’s mouth, never quite daring enough to break the skin.

The hunter wastes no time, one hand clutching at a resplendent hip to grind them, the other reaching between puffy clothing to paw around the bulge between his partner's thighs.

“Hmm,” Damian groans, breaking off their kiss, the two panting fervently, “not the wisest course of action.”

“Oh, no,” Tardif retorts, his seduction not deterred in the slightest, “Said so, didn't I?”

“I've tried to warn you.”

“Really,” Tardif taunts, expecting more of a fight.

“You forget we have an audience.”

“Yeah? Who?”

Damian points in regards to the hunter’s skepticism, angling his attention to his ever-present scouter.

“You need not be awake for this little one,” the nobleman remarks, casting an interim spell to make the innocent Pierre curl up in sleep.

“So proper,” Tardif mocks, unlatching the now decommissioned insect from his belt, setting it aside in the brush, covering it with a shawl.

“One of us must be,” the vampire insists, waiting for his partner to reunite with him.

“Teh, not fer long,” Tardif taunts, flicking his eyes over the other man's arousal in illicit suggestion, “got somethin’ to show me dontcha?”

With no more excuses and flame tingling his cheeks, the vampire gives in, pulling his tights down just enough to free his cock, the form-fitting fabric a swathe around the base, exposing the head of his length.

Oh, well that was interesting. There are scales here too, shimmering with pink, a few ridges of rose on each side of his flared tip.

He wants to touch, so he does, the hunter throwing off his gloves, taking a portion of what’s been revealed to him by the hand, squeezing a bit too tightly.

Damian moans, losing that debonair composure he was totting not so long ago and Tardif likes seeing him unravel.

“Do be careful,” the blonde gasps, resisting the urge to buck his hips, “I am quite close.”

“Should’ve come prepared then,” the warrior smirks, easing up just slightly, letting callous fingers rub cautiously against sensitive adaptations.

“This is not a need I usually attend to,” the vampire admits, moving his hands to rest upon the sturdy huntsman’s shoulders, feeling unstable on his own two feet.

“Well, too bad for ye,” his willful partner says, stroking along the delicate ridges with his thumb, their texture both soft and rigid at the same time.

“If … if you insist on continuing, I can’t be held responsible for what I will do.”

“Heh, when are ye gunna learn, I like a challenge?”

That line has Damian bucking into his grip, driving them together faster, five-prong claws scratching lancets around his neck, panting with grandeur and Tardif eats it all up.

The hunter contemplates slowing down, giving his prudish partner a longer courtship, but then he’s addicted to this transient pace, wanting to see the inevitable conclusion, pumping him without remorse.

It has been too long and the sensation too good, the vampire grasping for purchase as the suffocating rush takes hold.

“Tardif,” he cries, cumming in his hand, cock pulsating with the thrill of release.

For what temporal relief Damian feels, his passion does not dissipate, realizing that maybe his wanton appetite was not for blood, but for the man who contained it.

“How's that hunger if yers doin’ now,” asks the smug brunette, offering gentle, coaxing strokes throughout his orgasm, “Better?”

“Unfortunately for you, dear hunter,” the flagellant says, eyes a deep ruby red, “that is not entirely the case.”

The complacent hunter is rammed up against the very tree he fell out of earlier, fronds rattling from the impact.

There's a pause, Tardif groaning from the rough treatment of his back, leaves fluttering down around them, adjusting to this new dynamic.

“As delicious as you are,” Damian propounds, boundlessly thirsty, “You may want to sit down for this. I doubt you will be able to remain upright.”

“Yer the one jerkin' me ‘round wit’ yer cock out,” he snickers, attempting to slide further up the woody trunk he's crammed against, defying recommendation.

“Teh,” the vampire scoffs in distaste, covering himself up with a cloying snap of his tights so the other would have no more room to talk.

“Wot, cock too vulgar fer ye or somethin’?”

“You're too vulgar for me,” he pants, another terse accusation meant to insult, and yet it doesn't, “but I like that about you.”

Instead of intricately undoing his belts like Tardif had expected him to, the vampire yanks his britches off as if they never had seams, the fabric falling to his ankles in tatters, exposing him completely.

Damian takes a moment to appreciate his handiwork, boring over his lower half as he was gazing at a sculpted masterpiece.

“It seems I am not the only one pent up,” the flagellant teases, dragging a nail under a heavy girth, his partner thick and raging with unspent release.

“Shut up,” he growls, his once cool attitude suddenly nowhere to be found.

He can’t very well show up naked to his superiors, will have to find some means to repair his clothes before then, but he supposes he can worry about that later.

“How long since another has done this for you?”

“Months,” he admits reluctantly, though, after thinking about it more, he amends his timeline, “Maybe years.”

“I will have to take my time with you, then.”

Tardif expected his partner to use the same enthusiasm as he used on his pants and yet the vampire decides now to torture him, dragging his fangs over dark curls, so close to his throbbing erection.

The warrior watches on as a blonde head of hair places kisses along the crease of his leg, wondering if he’ll make use of that long tongue again, if it’s something he’ll only brandish while transformed.

Claws drag languid around his other leg, drawing faint abstract shapes, palm folding flat, molding around muscle, messaging, squeezing, tempting.

Much to the brunette's frustration, demure lips stray further away from his intent, his swollen member left straining with unmet want while Damian mouths around the grooves of his pelvic bone, nipping as he had done in their kiss, making the hunter jerk and flinch.

The vampire can feel his partner’s eyes on him, loves the unadulterated fixation, especially when a fist tugs at his hair by the handful.

Damian wants to give him a show, a taste of the pleasure that still flows in his veins, mouth opening wide, biting into a tanned thigh with reckless abandon.

“Fuck,” Tardif moans, essence shooting out from his length, blazing white across his partner’s jacket.

The warrior is shaking from the force of his orgasm, needing to grasp onto the tree to keep his knees from dropping down, groaning out into the night as if he’s some felled beast.

It’s as much of a surprise for Tardif as it is for Damian, the vampire realizing the brutality of his bite, pulling back with blood smeared across his lips.

“Ye damn lunatic,” the hunter pants, liquid pleasure coursing through him, vibrating with pinpricks, “need a little warnin’ next time, before ye do that.”

“And miss such an enrapturing display,” Damian breathes, marveling at his partner's resilience, “never.”

At least he has the decency to clean him up, tongue laving over both of his dripping wounds.

—---

Their intense affections sated, now cooled to a low ember, the two men laze amidst the grass, Damian stretched out on his stomach, draped over the huntsman's legs.

Tardif had retrieved the blanket from his pack, using it now for them to cuddle upon, the humidity of the swamp doused with chill, but it was hardly noticeable, the mortal radiating enough heat to salvage them both, flushing the vampire's cool skin with warmth.

Both men are a hodgepodge of semi-nude, the flagellant's chest bare, his jacket resting over his back like a cloak while his lower half remains dressed, his partner sporting just the opposite, too many straps and buckles to trifle with divesting, his bottom half exposed.

Damian's eyes keep straying towards the coagulated sores of bite marks, his long fingers soon caressing over the twin indentations he'd left on his lover.

“I should heal this for you,” he says, worry coating his voice, remorseful of what his indulgence had wrought.

“Don't. Leave it be,” Tardif grunts, having grown attached to the ache.

“I don't understand,” the blonde says, confusion reflected in his scarlet eyes, “Why would you keep it?”

“I like it,” Tardif shrugs, “Reminds me of ye. Don't expect anyone to go lookin’ there to find it anyway.”

He’s only known the Order to check for bites on the neck, a mandated strip search not yet a standard.

“Perhaps, I should ask you to give me one to match,” the vampire offers, raising a brow of invitation as well as his leg.

The warrior laughs, a terse exclamation, instead reaching for the modest silver whistle Damian has elected to wear around his neck.

“Ye got this,” Tardif reasons, turning the trinket around in his hand, watching it gleam, thinking it suits his partner's pale complexion rather well.

“True, I do,” the vampire nods, returning his leg to its proper position, snuggling more comfortably.

Tardif lets him wrap lanky arms around his middle, bury his head into the wedge of his hip.

He passes time by playing with the fine strands of Damian's unruly hair, flaxen curls weaving through his bronze hands, practically mesmerized. It was uncommon to see another man with longer hair like his own, never truly appreciating the benefits of such soothing comforts until this moment. As serene as this sanctuary is, he doesn't imagine he'll be getting much sleep, Damian either.

“Guess we should talk more ‘bout this party,” Tardif suggests.

“Ah yes, the viscount's annual banquet,” lips mumble against hot-blooded skin, “Even if they catch wind of what's happened, it will carry on as planned. He cannot afford to look weak in front of the other members of the court.”

“Well, aren't they goin’ to be surprised when we show up,” the brute smirks, enjoying the thought of ruining yet another rich elitist’s exploits.

The vampire shifts from his spot, sitting up on his arms, staring at his lover in reproach.

“We cannot go barging in there and claim an easy victory like we did before,” Damian scoffs, deathly serious, “He'll be expecting us. We'll need a new plan, a better plan."

“The plan worked just fine last time. We won.”

Damian sighs, “Yes, but with no amount of grace. We could have been more elegant with our delivery, minimized the risk.”

Tardif shrugs, “Yeah, but we still won. And it will be harder fer them to pinpoint the perp who did it. We left no survivors.”

Maybe the flagellant is still wound up from the whirlwind of emotions the hunter had evoked in him, but he finds it necessary to humble the wall of impudence.

“I swear to you, the viscount is nothing like the baron. He has greater wealth, superior protection, better experience. The risk will be exponentially higher.”

“So, yer worried somethin’ might happen to me,” Tardif teases, a little wag of his furry brows.

The flagellant bites his tongue to keep from agreeing to that. It’s true, of course, but he doesn't like catering to the man's ego too much, inflating it more than it already is.

“You’re forgetting about Sebastian and Pierre. They could get hurt too.”

“It’s fine,” Tardif dismisses, seeing nothing to worry about, “Ye can just heal us if we do. Problem solved.”

“I’d still prefer to avoid unnecessary bloodshed,” the flagellant presses, firm in his views, “I cannot reverse death.”

"Hn, fine," Tardif relents, “We'll go over battle plans in the mornin'.

Satisfied with that, the flagellant goes lax, lounging upon the other's scaffold of muscle.

“Damian…,” the hunter drawls, hooking onto a pale shoulder, working up the courage to speak.

“Hmm,” he hums, “what is it?”

“I ... have to leave after.”

The rugged note of apprehension is not lost on the vampire's ears.

“What do you mean,” he asks, flipping over.

Tardif wants to take it back, almost hates the heartache that coats his lover’s face, knowing he marred such a beautiful smile.

“I've already taken too long. The Order, they'll send someone else to complete the mission if I don't report back. ”

It was harder to get the words out than he thought, the brute’s throat corroded with sand while his partner retreats further inward, contemplating the many consequences.

“I …I understand,” he nods, looking away, “I can take care of myself.”

“Not very well,” the brute teases, a less than perfect self-image made destitute by the endless string of flagellation.

Damian scoffs, knowing he’s right, but chooses to be blissfully ignorant on the matter.

“I don't know wots goin’ to happen when I tell them,” Tardif continues, mirroring the vampire’s distant look, ‘Nothin’ good most likely. Might even have me locked up.”

The blonde chuckles, fixing him with cheerful eyes, adopting one of Tardif’s favorite catch-phrases. “Even if they do, you fear nothing, remember?”

The hunter stares at him in awe, belief in his credence restored.

“Heh, that's right. Glad yer finally catchin’ on.”

He reaches out, holding Damian’s cheek in reward, absently running a thumb against it. The man he was a few days ago would have never guessed this arrangement to be possible, that he would be here now, thanking the Light that this bloodsucker was real. It’s what makes this next confession so painfully difficult.

“Wot I am sayin’ is,” the axeman starts, “after I tell them I killed ye and the baron, they’ll have no reason not to believe it. I’ll be held responsible for everythin’. And … if I don't come back … I want ye to run. Find somewhere else to be happy.”

The vampire’s face crumples, overrun with tragedy, unable to fulfill this wish no matter how much his lover wants him to.

“Tardif …” his voice is trembling, reaching for the hunter's wrist, mooring himself to it, “I am sorry, but I cannot turn back now. I knew when I agreed, that I would be seeing this to the end. I will die fighting for what we've made, what we started. There is nothing left for me, but this. I will destroy the Order too if I must.”

The brute can’t say he’s happy with Damian’s decision, but there is one tactic he can use to dissuade him, low as it is.

“Wot ‘bout Sebastian? Ye can't protect him if yer dead.”

Damian snarls, tears welling in his eyes at the thought of his dear friend slain in the name of such ordeals.

“Please, do not say these things. I cannot bear to think about it.” Fist clenched, determination prickling his skin, the vampire can only see victory, “Our conduct at the banquet must be flawless. We cannot fail.”

Tardif is in awe again, his own dedication to a near impossible vendetta all the more solidified thanks to his partner, refusing to give up when the other still believes in them.

“We won't, trust me.” It’s a promise and pledge, said from the bottom of his heart.

The vampire finally meets his gaze, happiness sparkling in his eyes, unfaltering loyalty. “I do.”

Warmth spreads inside the hunter’s chest at hearing that. He wonders how he could be so lucky, but then again, going renegade on a solo mission and betraying the very church he serves would convince a person to swoon his way.

Tardif returns his smile, taking his lover’s face between his hands, pushing him to lie on his back, his own body following him down.

“Then, just be wit’ me,” the brute whispers, leaning in for a kiss, Damian holding him close beneath the canvas of twilight stars.