#undead boy detectives au

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

For the fic ask game: ↻FLIP FLOP for a fic of your choice where you had a really strong sense of a different character's POV from the one you wrote!

Thank you for the ask! Here's the scene from the first chapter of Came up from that lake of fire where Charles makes a deal with Edwin's warden from Edwin's perspective:

Ghosts don’t dream, but if they could have nightmares, Edwin thinks his would look a lot like this: Charles standing in this room where Edwin has met his doom so many times, the broken corpses of countless past Edwins scattered around them and the doll-spider demon looming above them. And Charles is facing it down, cricket bat in hand, because of course he is. Charles Rowland has never been one to back down from a fight, no matter how terrible the odds are. It’s one of the many, many things Edwin loves about him.

But right now, Edwin wishes that Charles had a little less bravery and a little more sense of self-preservation.

Edwin reaches out to grab Charles’s wrist as he starts to reach into his bag. “Don’t.”

His only hope is that the demon will be so focused on punishing Edwin for trying to escape yet again that it will forget the interloper that threw a grenade and a Molotov cocktail at it. The demon never seemed overly interested in the other souls when its pursuit of Edwin brought it to the other levels of Hell. Maybe he can get Charles out of this unscathed.

“I came to get you out of Hell,” Charles says stubbornly. “I’m not leaving without you, mate.”

“Don’t be a bloody—”

“Touching.”

Edwin goes cold at the sound of the voice. The doll-spider demon doesn’t speak; it just giggles and shrieks, high and childish. This voice is low and rough, with a rasp to it, like it's speaking out of vocal cords that it isn’t quite used to. It’s not the voice of the doll-spider demon. It’s Edwin’s warden.

He’s hardly ever come face-to-face with the demon that owns his soul, the doll-spider’s master. If his warden enjoys watching the torments Edwin has undergone in this maze, he does it from afar. Edwin doesn’t even know his name. But when his warden does come, he never shows his own face, simply possessing the doll-spider demon.

It’s the not knowing that makes him all the more terrifying to Edwin, because how is he supposed to face an enemy when he doesn’t even know his name, never mind what he wants? All of Edwin’s instincts tell him to make himself small and quiet and hope his warden loses interest. And maybe he would, if Charles weren’t standing between him and his warden, ready to fight Edwin’s greatest fear with nothing but a cricket bat and a bag of tricks.

Even with his legs shaking under him, Edwin shoves himself forward, placing himself between Charles and his warden. Charles makes a noise of protest, but Edwin refuses to budge. Raising his chin, he looks right into that mass of glassy eyes and says, “He’s signed no contract with you. You have no hold over him or his soul. You have to let him leave.”

The doll-spider demon giggles as his warden replies, “He’s here. That’s its own kind of contract.”

For a moment, rage almost blocks out Edwin’s all-consuming terror. No, he will not let his warden stake a claim on Charles’s soul. Not Charles, who is bright and kind and brave and doesn’t deserve Hell. “How is that a contract? By what law does walking through a door constitute an agreement to stay?”

“I’m not Death of the Endless or her little Lost and Found Department. I bought your soul, fair and square, and now you’ve been returned to me. Your friend is a bonus.” There’s something silky in the demon’s voice that sends ice racing down Edwin’s spine. “He’s fiery. How long do you think he’ll stay that way, my little sacrifice? How long do you think it will take before he starts begging for it all to end, like you used to?”

And no, there is Edwin’s worst nightmare. Because he remembers what it was like to be trapped here for decades, butchered over and over again with no end in sight. He nearly lost himself, nearly got to a point where he didn’t even remember his own name. Only his plan to escape kept him sane. He couldn’t bear to see everything that makes his best friend Charles Rowland chipped away one brutal death at a time. Seeing Charles lose himself would be worse than any torture Hell could heap on him.

“You can’t do this.” It comes out less confident than Edwin would like, more like a plea.

“Can’t I?” The demon starts forward and Edwin braces himself to endure whatever it does to him, so long as it doesn’t lay a single porcelain hand on Charles. But then, of course, Charles yanks Edwin back and puts himself between them, his hand gripping Edwin by the back of the shirt to keep him in place.

“You deal in souls, do you?” Charles demands and Edwin’s warden pauses right in front of them, its mandibles only a breath away from Charles’s face. 

And now Edwin has discovered a new worst nightmare. “Charles,” he begs.

“Deals?” his warden asks. “What do you think you can offer me? Your soul in exchange for his?”

“No.” God, no, Edwin will not let that happen, not if he has to shove Charles into his own bag of tricks to keep him quiet. “No, he is not offering that.”

His warden ignores him, its focus on Charles. “Your soul is already mine. You’re in my territory. What, will you tell me that if I let him go, you won’t hit me with that cricket bat in your bag? You couldn’t protect yourself from schoolyard bullies . Do you think you can protect him from me?”

Charles smiles in a way that viscerally reminds Edwin of the night he kicked the Night Nurse into Angie’s mouth. There’s none of Charles’s usual warmth behind it. “Only one way to find out, mate.”

“Charles,” Edwin says desperately.

“Charles,” his warden mimics. “So, what deal are you offering me, little ghost? What can you give me in exchange for two souls that are rightfully mine?”

Charles’s grip on Edwin’s shirt tightens in warning. “Let me handle this,” he seems to be saying with that grip, as if he isn’t about to throw himself off a cliff into a monster’s mouth. “Why don’t you tell me? Anything, so long as you let me walk out of here with him.”

Edwin can’t stifle his dismayed groan. Charles knows better than that. You never make open-ended deals with any supernatural entity, especially not demons or Fae. Charles has just handed Edwin’s warden carte blanche to enact any number of horrors. He’d like to shake Charles right now, except he’s too afraid to move.

Satisfaction seems to radiate from his warden’s next words. “You call yourself the Dead Boy Detectives, do you not?”

“That’s right,” Charles says before Edwin can interrupt. “We help spirits move on. Got a few ideas about where you could move on to, if you want suggestions.”

“And you find wayward spirits?”

Edwin rushes to answer before Charles. “We are not hunting anyone for you. I will not buy my freedom with that of another spirit.”

He hopes his warden won’t ask if he would buy Charles’s freedom with that of another spirit, because Edwin doesn’t know what the answer would be. Or perhaps he does.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty. Unless you want to watch what my pet will do to him, Edwin? Will that be your revenge for him paying too much attention to the pretty psychic?”

Edwin’s stomach shouldn’t be able to lurch with nausea, but it does. His warden knows about Crystal. Has he been watching him all this time? Or is he somehow able to look into Edwin’s mind?

His warden laughs, the sound mingling with the shrieks of the doll-spider demon. “I’m not asking you to bring me another wayward schoolboy. No, you’re one of a kind in that regard, Edwin Payne. No one quite like you has ever escaped from Hell.”

“Then who do you want us to bring you?” Charles demands. 

“A spirit that escaped from Hell centuries before your little friend was a twinkle in his father’s eye. Not that his father’s eyes ever twinkled for his disappointment of a son.”

Edwin can’t help but roll his eyes. As if his father’s disappointment can touch him anymore, after all these decades. “I already told you, we won’t be bringing any spirits to you.”

“And I told you, this is no innocent schoolboy. It can barely be called a spirit at this point. It calls itself the Deathless.”

Only minutes later, Edwin watches Charles prick his own finger on a knife and then sign a contract in his own blood, a contract stating that if he and Edwin don’t turn over the Deathless’s soul in the next hundred days, their own souls will be forfeit. After being dead for over a century, Edwin should no longer have a heart to break. But the sight of Charles’s name scrawled in his own blood feels like something shattering behind Edwin’s ribs.

***

Fic ask game

[kazalmilk]

Edwin putting his observational skills to use

paynland vampires are rotting my brain 🩸

[niamh-writes-things]

Sneak peak on the vampire fic

~ok ive gone insane for this dbd vampire au (i will be tagging it under "undead boy detectives" so if you wanna see all the posts in future you can search that) so i thought i'd post a snippet from the unedited, first draft of the first chapter of the fic, enjoy!~

The boys paused for a moment to gather more projectiles, so Charles took the split second opportunity to slip underwater and try to force his aching, stiffened limbs to move. The burning in his lungs, and now the rest of his muscles, only grew until it was less of a burn and more of a roaring bonfire spreading through his insides. It was a stark comparison to the pain biting into his skin from the temperature of the water, and certainly not a welcome one.

He resurfaced a few times for a small gasp of air, each time knowing that he was risking being spotted and having the nightmare situation continue. After what felt like an hour of battling his seizing muscles and the current of the water, he reached the bank and took a moment to cough and splutter. Just as he started hauling himself to his shaking legs, he heard a shout from one of the boys. They had found him.

He had to set off running as well as he could, he kept on stumbling, his body was starting to shut down. Then he fell over, and as he stood up he couldn’t help but heave. He really didn't want to be sick. Even worse, something in his mouth tasted metallic.He managed to keep on going for another minute before he began to realise that he simply couldn't do it. He felt tears welling in his eyes. Some part of him knew that this was the end.

He might have slipped into unconsciousness, because all he could remember of what happened next was the feeling of an arm around his shoulders and feeling weightless for a moment. Then he opened his eyes to see a dark room with a figure holding a light. This wasn’t how they were told death worked in chapel on sundays. He had expected a bright white light, some kind of warm embrace and a kind word. But maybe death was this, maybe it was just darkness.

Then a voice rang out. It was soft and sweet, like honey. It was far posher than his own.“Hello?” and despite the chattering of his teeth he felt the need to make an effort to answer “h- hi ther…” he barely managed to breathe out the two small words.“Oh!i’m terribly sorry, i suppose you are rather cold "Charles nodded, not that you could tell very well due to the amount he was shaking.

Suddenly, he could feel the weight of a blanket on his shoulders, and the boy brought the lantern closer to him “this should give off a bit of warmth” when he got closer, Charles almost gasped. He looked interesting. He was certainly handsome, with that jawline and the calm,collected look on his face and those eyes that practically pierced through him. He also noticed that under all that, he was just a scared teen, like him.

~this chapter is covering his death and how he was turned. i bet you can all guess who the boy who saved him and took him into the basement is haha!~

[tragedy-machine]

Lovely Poison

Summary:

Sparkles dance in Charles’ eyes as he looks at Edwin shrouded in a rosy fog, and for a short second, he can swear that he feels his undead heart beat out a rhythm that he already recognizes.

Oh.

OR: a love potion au where the boys tirelessly try to lift the spell from Charles

(Making fanart of my own fanfic? More likely than you think)

Chapters: 8/8

Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU), Crystal Palace (DCU)

Additional Tags: Love Potion/Spell, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Magic, Not Actually Unrequited Love, First Kiss, Getting Together, Canon Compliant, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, POV Charles Rowland (DCU), Happy Ending, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Pining Charles Rowland (DCU), Sexual Tension, Kidnapping

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List

here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚

Clockwork - @sgt-seabass

When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)

The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.

For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 

The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis

Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex

Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll

In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.

Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd

It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Guiding Light - @wkemeup

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

The Witness - @wkemeup

Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?

He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?

Just Try - @waiting4inspiration

Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.

Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration

Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.

Red Ties - @sebstan2020

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Delicate Edges - @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie

After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

Appointments - @noctumbra

bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him. 

Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark

Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.

Its A Deal - @justreadingfics

You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.  

The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

Snow - @delaber

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark

After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?

Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine

every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)

Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles

James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs

you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)

Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13

The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.

Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513

Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught.  Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes.  Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)

[anonymous-spooks]

SO ABOUT ISAAC….

I’m going to present to you the origins of my AU’s Isaac Grossman, but before I do, I wanna make something clear:

I HATE Isaac. The canon Isaac. He grew up into this awful, vile killer (I mean, everyone is a killer, but he just rubs me the wrong way), and is the reason why LJ’s the way he is.

I didn’t plan on him being a part of my AU at all. Because, well, he’s dead now. But seeing a lot of art and stuff about him where he’s undead and still a part of LJ’s life is quite fascinating. Even more so where he now is involved with his great-great-great(?) grandson Will’s life, too.

So I figured I may as well give him a chance. Rework him a little bit. Keep more of his deadly persona while also giving him a complete different direction. I want him to still be likable, but still let others remember that this man ain’t like Jeff or EJ or Toby or any of them.

So, without further ado, let’s get into it:

*********************************************

Isaac Grossman.

The perfect gentleman.

Born in a rather cold and rough environment, and taught in a strict boarding school until his late teens, Isaac learned that sometimes pain makes one the better man.

Slowly, he rose in the ranks, becoming popular among the middle class of late 1800s London. He was invited to classy parties by old boarding school mates, getting along with nearly everyone. He was charming. Boastful. He would talk for hours and hours about his struggles and achievements to curious women who admire him. He offered to open the door to anyone first. He complimented waiters for the tea and food.

Yes, he was the gentleman. But he wasn’t perfect as most assume.

Life doesn’t play fair, he learned as a young boy.

So why should he?

He had a little hobby.

Same time, every night, right when the clock strikes midnight. Adorning a bird mask he got from a masquerade ball, he stalks in the shadows, and attacked any unfortunate soul who crossed his path. He stabbed them repeatedly, cackling softly to himself in pure delight at the sight of seeing his victims die before his eyes.

It was all in good fun, but once the sun begins to rise, that's when he must clean up. He hid every body behind churches, apartments, anywhere to dispose them quickly. He either would dig the bodies underground or just cover them up with an old carpet.

He's not attempting to hide his crimes, no, no. He wants to make a scene. A shocking spectacle for all to witness, to faint, to gasp, "Oh, great heavens, a killer is on the loose!" It'll be worldwide news, many rumors will be spread, all the while he sits on his couch, sipping his afternoon tea like nothing's out of the ordinary.

It was perfect.

And then that night came.

While he was digging up a body in the backyard, behind an old house. He didn't hear anyone approach, he was merely focused on his delightful task-

*BANG*

He fell to the ground. Blood spills from his forehead.

...What?

"Great heavens! It can't be!"

"Yes, Bradford. I'm afraid it is. Isaac Grossman, the self-proclaimed aristocrat."

"But, how could you know, Dr. Gilbert?"

"It's quite simple; the way he talked with the detectives. He seemed far too comfortable despite the topic at hand. More importantly, he looked as if he barely got any rest."

"That is incredible, Doctor! ...But... what do we do now?"

"We will leave him here. He killed his victims and left them in poor condition, so he deserves the same treatment."

"What do we tell his wife?"

"Nothing. We will keep this between us. He has many supporters, they would not believe us. Now let's go."

Footsteps retreated. Then silence.

How.... could this be?

Is this how it ends? Him lying to rot, bleeding to death and slowly being eaten away by maggots, behind an old home he once knew? He's just going to accept his fate, like his victims before him?

No.

No.

No.

No.

He will never.

No man, woman, or higher being shall commend him to die. He refuse. HE WILL NEVER. After everything he went through, what he finally gained; his class, his wife, his supporters, his parties, his power. After reaching to the top, he's just going to give it all up?!

Never.

Somehow, this anger, this need to kill again, it somehow kept him conscious for so long despite his evident death. His heart no longer beats, his lungs no longer breathes, his brain no longer thinks. And yet all he could wish for was revenge.

To those who took his pleasure away from him.

All he could do now was wait. But for what?

........

Oh.

Hello, William.

[ambyandony]

hang on look out monster au la squadra concept post

ft. iltas oc zatta

//spoilers for vento aureo

formaggio: naphil / nephilim

(some sort of biblical sort of being but what they are isn't entirely clear from my research; some suggest theyre giants, some say half-angels, some say they're fallen angels, I went with both fallen angel and giant)

he uses little feet to adjust his size as desired but his actual height is 10' so assuming zatta does exist in monster au she hates him even more for having the audacity to be that tall

cats fucking hate him, and he keeps trying to pet ghiaccio who also hates him

he loves cats though

he has a broken, inverted halo

fucked up weird eyes that scare people

lots of naps and sometimes when he wakes up his eyes are fucked up and scary

started the laser pointer thing which was then perpetuated by melone so eberyone always blames him when furniture gets broken

weve all thought about killing you formaggio

annoying

doesnt use magic for anything useful

magic by nature but due to his 'fallen angel' type indivinity status he has less innate control so on the full moon he gets particularly moonsick and 'drinks it off' (does not work, does not help, makes everything worse)

illuso: mirror ghost

zatta is paranoid about mirrors in the la squadra hideout because of one accidental incident in the bathroom which was frankly a mortifying ordeal for the both of them and neither has mentioned it to the others

used to be human, hes pretty traumatised about being dead but hasnt explained how he died and doesn't like thinking about it

he cant read text when its written left to right anymore

mirrors in every room of the hideout except bedrooms where mirrors are kept covered and only uncovered in case of emergencies so sorbet is always seen standing out of view of mirrors because of the Incident

they actually have a really really awkward TV setup specifically devised so illuso can also watch TV

scared of gelato

one time zatta accidentally shattered all the mirrors in the hideout with depeche mode. this was inconvenient for illuso who said he himself actually shattered for a bit until there was a new mirror.

GO DIE PROSCIUTTO

zatta also hates the mirror cracking noise that happens around him

on full moons he actually becomes visible outside of the mirror but its fucked up and scary

prosciutto: lich

his anchor is probably his pendant

his jaw is partially exposed, since he's undead, his body isn't in the best shape.

hes not a real necromancer he doesn't know how to actually properly raise the dead and wont try (unless..?)

the rivalry with illuso is preeeettty one sided

wears perfume because he doesn't smell like rot, but he smells like, 'death'. it makes people subconsciously afraid of him, so he masks it.

his room also smells like perfume/air freshener. he has one of those automatic wall spray things.

his pillowcase is basically doused in cologne and is black because he either drools or bleeds all over it in his sleep because body preservation is a part of his morning routine.

his eyes dont really... see? not in the same way as bruno where hes blind, because he can still 'see', but his eyes dont follow movement anymore, and are very dull and blank.

on bad days he coughs up blood.

he dies every full moon and then reanimates in the morning and has to basically dose himself up with necromancy to regain a normal looking form

he's partially immune to his own stand due to either having no body heat or just due to the necromancy. his body doesn't function like it used to, but he still has blood flow.

pesci: human

i also had the idea that pesci was undead brought back by prosciutto but i didn't wanna directly state that

i basically relate him to my cousin who has a scooby doo special interest i think

instead of hooking / detecting just hearts, i actually changed beach boy a little - it hooks / detects auras, and can detect a lot from just that.

basically, instead of nearly killing himself buccellati doesn't evade the detection, he overwhelms it because of his super powerful divine eldritch angel aura and pesci is like WHAT THE FUCK????????? WHAT THE FUCK GET ME OUT OF HERE

either nothing happens to him on the full moon or he dies if exposed to moonlight and reanimates in the morning like prosciutto

he also detects as a normal human by aura and doesn't have corpse traits

what the fuck is going on

fishing :)

melone: cambion

( half-human, half-demon. most ppl automatically assume that it's always human x concubus but it's not but unfortunately in melones case his father was an concubus/incubus )

i already made a lorepost about this idiot and his impractical wings and tail

he gets really moody when people bring up his inhumanity but openly (when its safe) uses his abilities

never met his father, he thinks, anyway

never used sugent absorption because he doesn't want to turn out like his father (also why he treats baby face kinda like a son)

so hes actually a bit manastarved since concubi are more built for sugent absorption than they are for the environmental absorption he actually uses

circumstances of his conception were horrific. he was pretty much blamed for his own existence by everyone around him which may or may not have affected his mentality and traumatised him and shaped his worldview and motivated his actions. yknow. mightve had some bearing on the reflection of his soul.

doesn't excuse it but yknow. his mother didn't love him and he doesnt know if he even understands love

not as creepy about his stand and Women as he is in the anime, actually pretty clinical about the process and just a weirdo with innate vibes that make people uncomfortable because he's a Specific Kind Of Demon

concubi aren't actually inherently sexual, it's just that the ones that are heard about happen to have Done Things that give the whole subset a bad name.

It's true they feed off the energy of other Beings, and that can be done Sexually, but that doesn't make them inherently Averse To Consent. Concubi are physiologically built for sugent absorption and thats about it.

concubi are unfortunately very much magically wired and manaflow is as crucial as blood and airflow to someone like melone. passive environmental absorption and reactive / interactive absorption (absorbing energy from the interactions of people) provide enough to survive.

melone isnt his real name but he prefers it.

lets be clear im still hitting him over the head with a rolled up newspaper

ghiaccio: ailuranthrope

(ailura type, incomplete formshift subsect, pathomorphic variety, selkirk rex breed; blue and grey coat)

transgender?

his transformations are tied to his emotions which are very volatile, the partial formshifts mostly affecting his face, head, arms and tail

due to his hyperfrequent shift triggers, ghiaccio is essentially in constant or near constant pain as he keeps shifting and never enough to lose awareness.

his anger issues stem from his autistic ways and general mental illness but are made worse by his unending hell of a physiological state.

in a vicious cycle, thusly, his shifting is made worse when he shifts because he gets angrier.

basically has chronic pain. due to the most common formshifting locations, this typically manifests as mouth pain, unbearable migraines, back pain, and ear pain.

he always seems pretty bruised. he has incredibly frequent nosebleeds and tinnitus.

zatta empathises. still gets mad

habit of sitting in chairs very Wrong and usually kneel-sitting instead of normal sitting because of too many incidents sitting on his own tail

might have once been a normal human, and got Turned

he sheds

bad bad habit of biting and scratching himself so hes very very scarred up

often relies on melone's illusory magic to blend in

has tried to kill himself and it did not work

he only falls for the red dot at first but doesn't actually chase it, just throws himself at it and then his sense kicks in.

generally doesn't have any complete transformations, except for on the full moon. because it's the only time he fully shifts, he kinda goes fucking insane and goes into Beast Mode and it's up to others to keep him from doing that.

the spray bottle does not work

one of the rare few who can use his stand in full ailuromorph

i like to think he spends most of the white album ep in cat beast form

would kin izutsumi

autistic about linguistics (we know this)

still struggles with metaphor and idiomatic expression

hate

risotto: sanguisuge

tall

autistic

flat affect

quiet

drinks blood

eats blood in form of metal

doesnt understand a lot of things

does understand how to be quiet and scare people

fatherly air about him similar to buccellati but much scarier

keeps hitting head on door frames

me and the bad bitch i pulled by being magnetic

actually able to drink not only from people's bodies but also their auras

how do i preheat the oven

has basically no idea whats going on in normal contexts

sleeps completely prone face down stiff as a plank and with his eyes open

[yandereunsolved]

I am kind of obsessed with the idea of Evan Peter's characters with a magic system like Steven Universe. If you aren't familiar, the most bare-bones way to explain this is that certain characters are able to fuse with each other because of their bond. Their mind, body, and soul become one and create an entirely new being. If their fuse is unstable, then they will defuse. If they take a lot of damage, they will defuse. They can also stably defuse and return to their separate forms. If you want to know more about what I am talking about, go to the Steven Universe Wiki under Fusion Gems.

Now imagine Evan's characters fusing to create new characters. Tehe. Especially in a yandere setting.

Your toxic boyfriend Kai Anderson takes you to the Cortez to spend the night because every other place is booked. You both meet James Patrick March. Kai and James click together like puzzle pieces. One is an aspiring cult leader and the other is a mass murderer. They both have grown to be madly obsessed with you. Kai is only willing to share because James is even better of a manipulator than he is. They fuse and create a new being— their obsession and individual abilities multiply tenfold.

Giggling and kicking my feet in the air rn.

Quicksilver and Tate? Peter moves into the Murder House and you're their neighbor. Peter acts like Tate is his brother. Tate is totally a normal human boy. Nothing to see here. They both are all lovey dovey with you... so they fuse by accident once because Peter runs through Tate. Then, they decide to show you their fusion.

The yandere Evans forcing you into an unstable fusion??? Uh, oh. :( Darling, you don't understand. You are precious to them. This is the only way you can be with them in mind, body, and soul. They need this. They need to be one with you.

The wholesome babies being Kit and FrankenKyle. Kit doesn't really understand the entire undead thing but he helps Kyle become more human. You are the witch/warlock/[insert other magical thing] that is currently taking care of Kyle. Kit just adores how sweet and loving you are with him. They both fuse over their mutual attraction to you. The fusion is a bit unstable because Kyle is undead— so his scars show up on the fusion. Imagine those eyes??? Kits look and Kyle's innocent baby expression??? You have an oddly charming, himbo boyfriend now. Sometimes he struggles to speak and maintain eye contact.

Austin Sommers and Mr. Gallant. More giggling. It would be such an odd pair but it'd work. It'd work. You totally know that it would.

Luke Cooper & Colin Zabel. Shh... Lordy, lordy. Give Luke some credit. He never intended to fuse with anyone. He thought the idea was fucking stupid and useless to begin with. Ugh, a detective— so how did they fuse? You work for Michael Scott and therefore with Luke. Someone broke into the office after hours (Michael bribed you into helping teach Luke office skills. It was coming along horribly and Luke just kept flirting with you.) and that person tried to kill both of you. A masked gunperson. Colin comes in to help solve the case. Both Luke and Colin... end up fusing when Luke shows he gives a shit about something. Which is you and your safety.

This is already so long. Anygays, do you want me to expand on this idea:? Genuinely curious. Cause I would love to see what people come up with... and what if there was just an au of Evans fused characters??? (Even non-ahs related— I write a lot of ahs. that is why I am saying this.)

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Halloween Fic Recs

This is last minute, so have a very quick multifandom fic rec list. Not all of them are necessarily scary, some are more vibes.

Stranger Things

In a Mirrored Room, Talking to Myself by entanglednow | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin crew (plus Chrissy) are ghost hunters Steve hires to investigate his extremely cursed house. Genuinely scary.

Heal Your Shrinking Soul by help_me_no | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Steve signs up to nanny a pack of children for a mysterious guy in his remote haunted mansion. Interesting mix of wholesome and creepy details with The Haunting of Bly Manor vibes.

Curse of Strahd by infrared phaeton | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Steve and Robin are kidnapped by the kids for their demonic cult leader, Eddie Munson. Unsettling.

Dead Boy Detectives

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

The boys bargain their way out of Hell by promising to capture a ghost-eating entity called the Deathless. Exciting case and some choice horror moments.

Lemonade and Sunrises by paraph | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

A Quiet Place AU. Not sure if this has the right Halloween vibe, but it deserves more love so I included it for the monsters.

Dance the Night by Gruoch | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

The agency are on the trail of some kind of vampire... The later chapters really bring the horror tropes (undead, slasher, haunted house). Very effective.

Captain America

Unquiet by Dira Sudis (dsudis) | Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Recovering post-Winter Soldier Bucky is being haunted. Or is he? Menacing.

If the Apocalpyse comes, text me by Relenafanel | Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Bucky the Vampire Slayer AU. Fun, funny fandom classic.

Sherlock

They Mostly Come Out At Night by Tawabids | Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Alien AU! Sherlock was abandoned on a space station as a baby and John is reluctantly roped in to retrieving him. Space AU with xenomorphs bringing the horror.

You and Me and the Moon by trickybonmot | Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Werewolf!Sherlock AU. After being bitten on a case, Sherlock must adapt to his new condition. Not really scary, but the lycanthropy has kind of old-school Hollywood vibes.

Return to Dunwich by entanglednow | Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Sherlock and John investigate the town where Sherlock mutated. Sherlock got tentacles in the previous fic, but I loved the extremely creepy town and its inhabitants in this one. Body horror and Lovecraftian monsters in both.

The Sandman

Radio Silence by Moorishflower | Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Human/The Last of Us AU! Dream is an apocalpyse survivor tracking a distress signal to a besieged library. He also might be insane/in love. Intense.

Teen Wolf

A Wildness Warily Awakened by Etharei | Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Derek and his team of space marines are on a mission on a zombie infested planet. Exciting.

9/10ths of the Law by tsukinofaerii | Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Always-A-Demon Stiles AU! Surprisingly emotional and crosses over with Supernatural.

[7ban-sama]

ryokan au do you think hanako takes bites of tsu occasionally or does he actually resist otouto ....

i think about this au so much aidairo really catered to me specificallt with it. absolutely rotting my brain, if only there were any pornfics out there OTL

This AU feels like it was made to torment me personally yeah. So you have my sympathy. Idk why AidaIro gave me a place to think about, scent marking, pee, cat mating behaviors, feral anatomy, interspecies sex... Vore. etc. But they did. *furrows brow*... RIP about fic though, I myself can't really find much palatable fic, so whenever I want 'content' for something like a recent AU, I just have to write it myself / RP with my wife lol. JP fandom at least makes nice comics and art pieces to gaze upon... Ryokan has been prosperous in this way.

As for the status of the twins at the Ryokan: I think Amane indulges in consumption of Tsukasa, yes. Though with perhaps... more moderation(?) than the first incident(s), which is what I would believe lead to their mutual undead & sealed circumstance... status as, spooky orb havers. Or perhaps you could think of it as, Amane n ow has more elegance, thoughtfulness, in how he goes about eating... Artful indulgence, instead of succumbing to instinct miserably.

I do think the first time it happened, was not so easy for Amane. I feel like his journey always has to start out fraught, in some manner... Because the desire to consume (harm, destroy) Tsukasa will always be clashing against the feelings of preciousness. Amane often sees himself as Tsukasa's caretaker, protector — it's his 'role', as the older brother. He often puts himself in these sort of positions, in control and taking charge, as you can see with his dynamic with Nene as well. Though they are not biologically related, this world feels no different, what with Amane leading Tsukasa away from the circus tent fire...

This drawing is so sweet... Amane seems so genuinely concerned. Scruffed up and dirty, trying to get them out... (Of course, we don't get to see Tsukasa's expression... 💔 It's like how we can't see him on Tanabata either... prolly spoilery territory, and necessary to preserve mystique... It'd be too much to see Tsukasa's dazzled expression *sigh* ) Anyways... I get the impression from this picture, that Amane was very ardently trying to save Tsukasa in this moment.

And one has to wonder, how many years had Tsukasa been living in this circus? Isn't it odd for a kid this young to be an animal handler-? Whatever era they are from, it's likely more 'old world', considering the newspaper clipping was from 50 years ago — and the Minamoto Detective Agency itself isn't very modern feeling. (Our first image representing the event features a rotary phone, and I'd say the general fashion trends do not feel modern.) Soo... There's basically no way this set-up of a young boy animal handler was ethical. Tsukasa was likely an abandoned child, unloved, with only his pet black cat as company. I think Amane observed the poor treatment Tsukasa faced and it culminated in him rescuing him from the fire. Acting as his savior.

The story is so tantalizing to envision, from that jumping off point... Where do they run off to? Amane has magical capabilities as a nekomata, but I wonder how young he was, how much he still had to learn... Is he capable of sustaining them both? Were they functionally homeless for a while, meandering about? Finding some abandoned shed to hole up in? So much must have happened, between then and the current events of canon...

No matter what, I feel like being alone with Tsukasa starts to chip away at Amane's instincts. The AU proposes that humans are sooo irresistibly tasty... I think the sense of, love and desire to protect Tsukasa buys Amane some time, letting him funnel into the task of providing for his "little brother"... And ah, as I mentioned before, I like the HC that Amane only just got his human form and mirrored it after Tsukasa, so I think there's euphoria to be felt over finally being able to interact with Tsukasa with hands, a voice, etc.. They can talk! They can share so much! That's exciting... Ah, but it's like, amidst the haze of these emotions, there's this encroaching rumble... I think it's a natural pipeline for Amane to go from feeling like a caretaker, to gaining some. Divine sense of entitlement. You owe your life to me... with my actions, you are MINE... I own you. This snowballs with the biological urges to consume... the temptation...

I like to think there was a small incident, something fluid in the middle of affection... Getting his chin scritched, something like that — and mindlessly, Amane snaps, cleaves through a couple fingers. Mabye down half the knuckle of Tsukasa's thumb. And he swallows without thinking, also. But the sound of Tsukasa's shock and pain causes him to recoil, and it's like he's woken up to the reality of what he did — misery, horror, sadness... Helpless feeling about it. I think about him sobbing while licking Tsukasa's injured hand... ;; Not liking how it feels, that there's still a desire for more. Scared of self, frazzled fur, ears pinned... A somber period follows, where Amane bandages Tsukasa up and also endeavors to learn healing magicks... Not strong enough to magically recreate the missing body parts, but I think he could eventually close up the wounds. Sad kitty... Of course, Tsukasa is ever-reassuring, saying it's all fine! Daijoubu! Smiley smiley. Petting with his other hand. Hard to believe Tsukasa is so... forgiving... he doesn't even flinch when touched. They still sleep intertwined...

Inevitably, between Amane's own desire and Tsukasa's unconditional love, it all has to culminate in a big explosive event. The twins... you can see how, across all worlds, they have to conclude in something as extreme as consuming the other! I think AUs where their very species dictates this further conveys how much it cannot be helped. How can Amane resist Tsukasa forever-??? He cannot. Since nekomata are also known to have a capacity in necromancy, I believe that's how Tsukasa can return, and that's what leads to their present-day selves. Also, since Amane is a decidedly powerful mystery, I think of him as distinctly capable for a nekomata. Over those 50 years, he honed his powers, and it leads to his casual demeanor now. He doesn't feel threatened or, as if anything can meaningfully compete.

Honestly I think the whole... keeping Tsukasa a secret, having him dressed up as a kitty and locked in a closet, is all, fetishistic. Ohhh my dear sweet "brother", stay safe okayyy, mm yes pretend to be a kitty and run about... i will protect you... even though you're a delectable little human... mwah. The choice to give Tsukasa a kinked tail and matching collar is wholly eccentric. All these details feel... playful? Indulgent? Compared to their past as a dirty circus orphan and his scraggly black kitty cat... For them to be trouncing about this secluded mountain inn, feels luxurious. They feel very comfortable, to me...

So I like to think that this isn't an Amane that is forbidding himself from interfacing with Tsukasa, and indulges at times in his urges. The difference is having more of a handle on himself, so it's less of a chaotic impulse? If impulsive, than the indulgent kind, succumbing to wanting to nip and bite and draw blood... I really ah, think about him raking claws across Tsukasa and lapping at the wounds. Things like this. Ohh, just a taste... I don't want to tear him apart juuust yet, must control... It should be special, when we go that far ❤... You could imagine him snapping off a finger or two though, ugh, and then Tsukasa's perpetual mitten status just passes it off... He's commonly seen as clumsy, so it wouldn't be suspicious if he was especially poor at handling things. Fumbling more....

UGh it all makes me sick though because-!! I have to imagine they are affectionate, playing with each other, napping together, etc... I can perfectly see a doting Amane cleaning up Tsukasa after he's done with him, grooming him affectionately, and then relaxing in the hotsprings together... Such visions I am accosted with. I cannot see anything else

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

All is bright

For Day 8 of @dbdaghostmas, here's a fluffy little Christmas fic set in the Undead Boy Detectives AU. For anyone who hasn't read the first fic in the series, this one works fine as a standalone. Everything you need to know is in the author's note. You can either read it below or here on AO3.

Prompt: AU

Rating: T

Word count: 3.5K

Relationships: pre-Edwin/Charles

Summary: On their first Christmas after coming back to life, Edwin and Charles try to surprise each other by making their favorite holiday dishes, with mixed results.

***

“This cannot possibly be right.” Edwin stares down at the meatballs he’s attempting to cook for Christmas dinner, which look nothing like the picture Crystal showed him on her phone. They look more like the bloody, burnt detritus left by souls trying to escape the river of boiling blood in the Violence level of Hell than anything someone should eat. “Crystal, there is something wrong with that recipe you showed me. These look abysmal.”

“What’s wrong is that the recipe isn’t for cooking meatballs on a hot plate,” Crystal says. “Whoever wrote it expected you to have a stove.”

Edwin sniffs and prods at one of the meatballs. It wobbles distressingly. “It’s hardly my fault you didn’t bother renting a room with a proper kitchen.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. When I rented this room months ago for what I thought would be a few days, I didn’t think I needed to worry about an undead teenage boy trying to make meatballs on my hot plate.”

“Don’t call me undead. It makes me sound like I’m about to start devouring brains.”

She leans over to look into the pot, grimacing. “You know, they have frozen meatballs you can just heat up in the microwave. They won’t even give us all food poisoning.”

“It’s Christmas,” Edwin snaps. “Charles’s mother always used to prepare spaghetti and meatballs on Christmas. He speaks of it often. I doubt that Mrs. Rowland purchased frozen meatballs and microwaved them.”

“Yeah, but she probably knew how to cook the meatballs, which is why it wasn’t food poisoning that killed Charles.”

“The spaghetti turned out fine.” Edwin glances over at the colander full of spaghetti in the sink, which is properly cooked and doesn’t look like it needs immediate medical attention.

“Sure. I hope Charles likes his spaghetti crunchy.”

Edwin rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “If you are such an expert, why don’t you help?”

“Oh, no.” She takes a step back. “I told you, I’ve never cooked anything more advanced than microwavable ramen. My parents hired people to do that for us. Don’t give me that look. Did you ever step foot in your kitchen back in Victorian times, or did you have servants to do that for you?”

“I’ll have you know, I heated myself up some milk once,” Edwin says primly, leaving out the part where he burnt himself and splashed milk all over the place, earning himself a lifetime ban from the kitchen from the unamused cook.

“Wow, a real man of the people,” she deadpans. “I have almond milk in the fridge if you want to serve Charles that for Christmas dinner.”

“How’s it going?” Niko asks in a sing-song voice as she swans into Crystal’s flat.

“They just need a bit more time.” Edwin glares at Crystal, daring her to contradict him.

She takes him up on the dare, the beastly girl. “What they need is a time machine so Edwin could do everything differently.”

“I’m sure they’re—oh.” Niko’s face falls when she spots the meatballs. “You want us to eat those?”

Edwin has rarely suffered such a betrayal. “The recipe Crystal gave me was clearly defective.”

“Obviously,” Crystal says.

“Every year on Christmas, Charles talks about his mother’s spaghetti and meatballs,” Edwin says. “Since we’re alive and most likely won’t be come next Christmas, I’m going to make sure that he has the best Christmas I can give him.”

In the weeks since they came back to life upon their return from Hell, Edwin has slowly readjusted to this new existence of theirs. He’s only walked into a wall while expecting to phase through it once in the past week, which is a vast improvement. He’s even getting used to having to eat and sleep on a regular basis, helped by the fact that he falls asleep listening to Charles’s lovely, familiar voice every night.

Charles, on the other hand, has thrown himself into this second life with gusto. Every good night’s sleep, every snack, every morning feeling the sun on his face (not that there’s much sunlight to be had in Port Townsend in December) is like a little victory for him. Edwin already worries what it will do to Charles, who he recently learned is far less sanguine about his untimely death than Edwin always assumed, when this brief second life is over. So while they’re alive, he’s determined to make everything as perfect as possible for him.

Hence the spaghetti and meatballs.

“Maybe if we cover it, they’ll cook more evenly?” Niko suggests helpfully.

“Or maybe we chuck the whole thing in the trash and order pizza,” Crystal suggests, less helpfully.

“Good thinking, Niko.” Edwin places the lid on the pot. “I am so glad that one of you—”

A shrill wail fills the air. Edwin flinches and slaps his hands over his ears, but it barely muffles the sound.

“The fire alarm,” Crystal shouts, turning an accusing look on Edwin.

“There is no fire!” Edwin jerks his chin at the pot of meatballs, which at least have a lack of fire to recommend them.

“Oh no.” Niko’s eyes go wide. “Charles was doing something in Jenny’s kitchen.”

“What?” Edwin and Crystal demand at the same time. Jenny has been very clear that she “doesn’t do holiday bullshit” and she’d rather face Esther Finch’s giant snake than endure any festivities. She told them all she would be spending the day holed up alone in her flat and that she didn’t want to be disturbed. But if anyone was going to finagle their way into her kitchen, it would of course be Charles.

Her kitchen, which is now apparently on fire.

“Charles!” Edwin turns and races out of Crystal’s room and up the stairs, ignoring Crystal’s shout behind him. Charles is alive and flammable, with lungs that could easily fill with smoke, choking all the air out of him. For the thousandth time in the past few weeks, Edwin curses the frailty of the human body. If Charles is hurt…

He bursts into Jenny’s flat without knocking and finds the smell of something burnt heavy in the air. “Charles!” he shouts again, rushing into the kitchen.

“Mother fucker !” Jenny is currently waving a dish towel at the wailing smoke alarm while a sheepish-looking Charles perches on the counter to pry the window over the sink open. There don’t appear to be any flames, but a cookie sheet filled with burnt, blackened lumps.

“What on earth?” Edwin demands as the smoke alarm’s infernal shrieking finally goes silent.

“Fuck.” Charles leaps down from the counter, grimacing. “Sorry, Jenny. Not sure what happened.”

“What happened,” Jenny hisses. “Is that you hit the broil button and not the bake button.”

“Oh.” Charles looks gobsmacked. “There’s a difference?”

She points to the cookie sheet. “Obviously. When I told you you could use my kitchen, I thought I didn’t have to specify that I didn’t want you to nearly set a fire!”

“I didn’t set it on fire! Just a bit of smoke, is all.”

Crystal and Niko come rushing into the kitchen. “Are you okay?” Niko demands.

“Wow, yes, everyone please come in,” Jenny says. “On this day where I specifically said I wanted to be left alone.”

Crystal ignores her. “What happened?”

“Guess there’s a difference between baking and broiling something, isn’t there?” Charles says a little helplessly.

“There is?” Crystal asks and Edwin realizes he made a grave mistake asking her for her assistance with the meatballs. Not that he knows what broiling means.

“What are these supposed to be?”Niko peers at the blackened lumps.

Charles smiles ruefully. “I was trying to roast chestnuts.”

“Why would you do that?” As far as Edwin knows, roasted chestnuts fell out of vogue long before Charles was born, which he’s always thought was a shame. They were a pleasant treat on holidays.

“Because you once said you liked them, mate,” Charles says.

Edwin blinks. He cannot ever recall discussing roasted chestnuts with Charles.

Seeing his confusion, Charles says, “First Christmas we spent together, remember? We talked about how we would have spent the day, if we were still alive. You said you’d be eating roasted chestnuts and plum pudding.”

“How did you remember that?” Edwin vaguely recalls the conversation, one of many they had about their lives during their first year together. Eventually, the conversations petered out. Perhaps foolishly, Edwin assumed it was because Charles was growing accustomed to his death. Now, he wonders if the subject became too painful as the years went on and Charles realized his life was truly lost forever.

Charles shrugs. “Try to remember things that you like, don’t I? I wanted you to have a proper Christmas, like you would have had back when you were alive before.”

Edwin’s throat suddenly feels tight. How is he supposed to not be in love with Charles Rowland when he goes around remembering a single conversation that they had over three decades ago? And all because he wanted to give Edwin the kind of Christmas he would have had when he was alive back in the 1900s? As if any of those Christmases were an improvement over the ones he’s spent with Charles in their office.

“Jenny wouldn’t let me roast a pheasant,” Charles says.

“Absolutely fucking right I’m not letting you roast a pheasant,” Jenny snaps. “You couldn’t manage roasted chestnuts and plum pudding without nearly burning my building down. Again.”

“Oi, I wasn’t even on this plane last time your building nearly burned down. I was in Hell!”

“Is that what this is?” Crystal points at a pot on the stove, face screwed up in disgust. “Plum pudding?”

Edwin takes a look and shudders. Bits of grayish sludge bob on top of the water.

“Right, I can explain,” Charles says. “The recipe called for putting the pudding into pudding tins and standing them on a trivet over a pot of boiling water. Only problem is that Jenny doesn’t have a pudding tin or a trivet—”

“No, I don’t have a pudding tin,” Jenny snaps. “I’m not Mary fucking Berry.”

“So I thought I’d just put the pudding in a bread tin and let it float in the water. Except, it didn’t float. So now it’s more like pudding-flavored water. Might still be edible, yeah?”

“No,” Crystal and Jenny say at the same time before Edwin can be convinced to eat pudding-flavored water in order to spare Charles’s feelings. 

Edwin feels his lips tugging into a hesitant smile. “Charles, you didn’t need to do all this. I know plum puddings and roasted chestnuts aren’t exactly features of a modern Christmas.”

“Yeah, but they were features of your Christmases, and you deserve to have the Christmas you want,” Charles says. “Sorry, mate. I tried.”

Jenny claps her hands, interrupting Edwin’s reply. “Okay, this has been very sweet, but could you two gaze lovingly at each other elsewhere? I’d like to get back to—”

From downstairs, another alarm starts to blare and Edwin remembers the meatballs. “Oh, blast.”

***

Edwin gazes sadly at what’s left of the meatballs, coated in film from Jenny’s fire extinguisher. Even before the fire extinguisher, he doubts there was anything edible about them.

Charles takes a fistful of cold spaghetti from the colander and shoves it in his mouth, grinning. “Cheers, mate. Just like Mum used to make.”

Edwin gives him a withering look, which just makes Charles grin harder.

“Jesus Christ.” Jenny blows out a breath. “I’m ordering Chinese. No one try to cook anything while I'm gone."

***

“This is how I spend every Christmas,” Jenny says later as they gather in her living room, eating directly from takeaway containers. “Eating Chinese food and watching whatever shitty movie is on TV.”

“Alone?” Niko gives her a sad look.

“Yes, alone.” Jenny’s tone goes snappish. “And I’m fine with that, Niko, so don’t try to pull a Hallmark Christmas movie on me. I don’t need to learn the meaning of Christmas. Christmas is about selling more ham and pot roast than I do at any other time of the year.”

“What is a Hallmark Christmas movie?” Edwin asks, which makes Crystal and Jenny groan and Niko beam at him.

After much arguing over the remote and Jenny reminding everyone that this is her apartment and she paid for dinner, they’re watching an attractive couple strolling hand and hand past a display of Christmas lights while the woman says they just don’t have lights like this in Chicago. Edwin has never been to Chicago, but given its size compared to the small town the couple appear to be in, he finds that doubtful.

The food is quite good, at least. Edwin is enjoying his orange chicken immensely while Charles declares his lo mein “almost as good as my mum’s spaghetti.” Most importantly, no one seems to be at risk of getting food poisoning. Niko makes a big deal out of everyone opening their fortune cookies, though Edwin thinks she should have learned her lesson from the cursed magic 8 ball. His fortune says, “Big changes are coming. Embrace them.”

“I hope not,” he says, showing Charles his fortune. “I just came back to life. That’s quite enough change for me.”

“What you’ve always wanted is right in front of you,” Charles reads aloud from his own fortune, before stealing a piece of Edwin’s orange chicken. Through a mouthful of chicken, he says, “Fortune was right, mate. Incredible.”

Edwin rolls his eyes and steals some of Charles’s lo mein in retribution, which just makes Charles laugh.

On the screen, the attractive couple are standing in front of yet another display of Christmas lights while a blandly good-looking man is arguing with the young woman, apparently trying to convince her to come back to “the real world” while a small crowd gathers around them to shake their heads and stare at the man disapprovingly.

“I’d still take this over the Point No Point light show.” Jenny gestures at the TV with her chopsticks. “There aren’t any crying babies and people I knew in high school who won't stop trying to catch up.”

“Point No Point has a light show?” Edwin asks, interest piqued.

“Yeah, but it’s the same stupid displays every year and the same people who want to spend their Christmas overpaying for hot chocolate and jostling with hundreds of other people to see the same displays they saw last year.”

“We could go.” Crystal sets aside her container of fried rice. “We’ve never seen the lights here. It could be fun.”

Jenny looks skeptical, but Niko squeals in delight.

“That’s how me and Edwin spend our Christmases back home. Walking around and seeing all the different lights. Right, mate?” Charles nudges Edwin. “Edwin loves Christmas lights.”

Edwin nods eagerly.

Jenny looks around at all of them with an expression of someone who already knows she’s lost this war. “ Fine. Let me get my coat.”

***

“Dagfinn must hate this,” Charles says cheerfully as they look out across the bay, where the Point No Point lighthouse is festooned with lights, the beacon at its top flashing red and green.

“I imagine so,” Edwin says, since this appears to be the opposite of the solitude the cranky ghost craves. Their little group is surrounded by other people enjoying the view of the lighthouse, with parents hoisting children on their shoulders for a better vantage point and smiling families taking pictures together in front of the lights.

Edwin, who doesn’t normally care for crowds, finds himself unbothered by the crush of people. The lights are lovely as they reflect on the waters of the peaceful bay, which seems mercifully free of sea monsters. With a cup of overpriced hot chocolate cradled in his gloved hands and his breath misting in the air in front of him, he feels something approaching contentment. It’s hard to worry about this second life and what it means when the night is glowing with colorful lights and he’s surrounded by his friends.

“You really like lights, don’t you, Edwin?” Niko asks. “You always used to stare at the cow in Jenny’s shop before Esther blew it up.”

“I liked that cow,” Jenny grumbles, though there’s little rancor in it. She’s sipping on her own overpriced hot chocolate, which seems to have improved her mood.

“I’ve always enjoyed Christmas lights,” Edwin tells Niko. “When I returned from Hell, it was almost Christmas. I remember seeing the lights everywhere and knowing that I was truly free, that I wasn’t going back.”

She smiles a little sadly at that and squeezes his arm. “You’re not going back. Not again.”

Edwin returns her smile, wishing he had her certainty. “Come along, there are more lights to see. I believe that’s a giant seagull up ahead.”

“Oh, a giant seagull!” Looking delighted, Niko grabs Crystal by the hand and drags her away. Jenny follows them, not looking half as exasperated as she seems to be trying to appear.

Charles lingers with Edwin, looking painfully adorable with his face flushed from the cold and his curls sticking out from under the red hat pulled low over his ears. He’s already drunk all his hot chocolate and has the paper cup crumpled up in his hand, tearing little bits off of it.

“You never told me that,” he says, rolling a bit of paper between his fingers. “About coming back from Hell.”

Edwin shrugs. “You’ve seen it. There’s nothing beautiful or decorative down there. You forget things like that can exist if you spend enough time there.” His gaze lingers on the curve of Charles’s lips and the glint of his earring.

Charles bumps his shoulder against Edwin’s lightly. “I’m sorry about the pudding and the chestnut, mates.”

Edwin huffs out a laugh. “Charles, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I made a right mess of things, didn’t I? Just wanted to give you a proper Christmas.”

“This is a proper Christmas.” Edwin gestures at the lights, at the hot chocolate, and at Crystal, Niko, and Jenny, who are up ahead, admiring a display of lights in the shape of a giant seagull about to swoop down on someone’s lunch.

“Not like they were back in your day,” Charles says, sounding genuinely contrite.

“No, because my day was 1916. I won’t pretend that I don’t miss things about those days, but I find the world much improved since then. There’s no world war, for one.” Edwin hesitates, then adds, “And I didn’t have you and the Agency in 1916. Those things are worth the lack of plum pudding, I think.”

That earns him a warm smile. “You saying you like me more than plum pudding, mate?”

“Undoubtedly,” Edwin says. “And I am sorry for the disastrous spaghetti and meatballs.”

“No big deal.”

“I could have poisoned us. I too wanted you to have a Christmas like you enjoyed in your youth.”

Charles lets out a laugh with little humor. “Christmases when I was a kid were mostly watching my dad and uncles drink too much eggnog and wondering what shitty comment of my granddad’s was going to set my dad off so he’d take it out on me and Mum once everyone else went home. The spaghetti was always good though.”

Edwin’s throat feels tight. He wishes he could pop through a mirror to strike fear into Paul Rowland’s shriveled, putrid heart. “And for me, Christmas was usually about wishing the rest of the year could be like those few days. Wishing my father would be home more, wishing my mother would smile more, wishing my brothers wouldn’t ignore my existence. I would take this over those Christmases any day, even if I did enjoy the food. For me, a proper Christmas is just you and me in our office.”

The smile returns to Charles’s face, as bright and beautiful as the lights surrounding them. “Same here, mate. Though this is pretty brills too.” He squeezes Edwin’s shoulder. “Next year, we’ll do Christmas properly, yeah? We can make plum pudding, roasted chestnuts, and spaghetti together.”

“Next year…” Edwin trails off. He was about to remind Charles that they’ll almost certainly not be alive next Christmas. If they’re lucky, they won’t be in Hell. But Charles doesn’t need that reminder. Tonight, neither of them do. “Sounds like a strange sort of Christmas feast.”

“Perfect for us then, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.” Edwin feels his own lips tugging into a smile at Charles’s enthusiasm.

“And afterwards, we can go walk around and look at the lights, like we always do.”

“If the girls are around, Niko will most likely insist we watch another of those dreadful movies.”

“That’s the kind of stuff you do for family during the holidays,” Charles says with a grin.

Edwin glances over at Niko and Crystal, who appear to be trying to coax Jenny into taking a picture with them in front of the seagull. “I suppose it is.”

Charles slings an arm around Edwin’s shoulder, hugging him against his side. “Next year, mate. Christmas will be perfect.”

Edwin almost tells him that it already is, but bites back the words, because they would give far too much away. So he lets Charles steer him in the direction of the others. And with the weight of Charles’s arm around his shoulders and Christmas lights illuminating the night around them, Edwin lets himself hope for a moment that they’ll get to keep this second life of theirs, if just for long enough that he and Charles can eat spaghetti and plum pudding together next year.

***

If you read and enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos and/or comments on AO3!

[kazalmilk]

And for the last night I lie, could I lie with you?

might write a fic

[marshmallow-phd]

A Heart’s Perfect Prey

A/N: Hello! I know this is a story I’ve already posted, but I wanted to rewrite it, make it better and change the member it was written for. I hope you give it a chance and enjoy the new version! 

Genre: Vampire AU

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warning: mentions of blood, murder, supernatural elements

Summary: Murders are happening around you. Unbeknownst to you, the culprit isn’t human. He’s a vampire centuries old with a game to play. And his opponent? Park Chanyeol. A vampire out for revenge. With you as the new pawn on the board, will you be another sacrifice in their long destructive game or will you reignite a heart long cold and dead?

Tao I Chanyeol I Yixing I Luhan I Minseok I Jongdae I Jongin 

**

Being alone wasn’t so bad. No tearful goodbyes, no hurtful attachments. He was free to come and go as he pleased, no one to hold him back, to force him to stay in one place for too long. Sure, after two hundred years, he had connections all over the world, but they were merely acquaintances, people to help him get when he needed the upper hand.

Like Luhan.

After five decades and twelve cities, it was amusing how that short pretty boy was still working as a public worker, spending most of his days down in a basement under harsh fluorescent lighting that exemplified his pale, undead skin, surrounded by rotting flesh. If humans couldn’t stand the smell, imagine how a vampire felt.

But today was one of those days where Luhan’s position came in handy.

Chanyeol needed information. 

A few  days ago, he caught the scent of an old adversary - one he’d lost track of decades ago - right here in his own territory. A ruthless vampire who needed to be put down for the good of all. And he’d been leaving quite the trail, if Chanyeol’s hunch was correct. If anyone in the city were to know about a rise in vampire-on-human attacks, Luhan would be the one to contact.

The precinct was busy, loud and overcrowded with people begging not to be locked up. No one paid Chanyeol any attention as he strolled down the hallway like a spector and to the elevator, pressing the button to call it. While waiting for its arrival, the sound of tears under the chaos caught his attention. In the main room behind him, sitting at one of the detectives’ desks with a police standard jacket around your shoulders, you were mostly ignored by the others who walked by.

You weren’t wailing or sobbing hysterically. Your face was blank, void of any emotion as tears rolled down your reddened cheeks. Occasionally, you sniffed, creating the soft noise that had caught Chanyeol’s attention in the first place. No one seemed to be paying vulnerable little you any mind. It was mildly depressing.

Shaking his head, Chanyeol turned away when the elevator dinged at its arrival. He entered and hit the button for the basement with perhaps a little too much force.

Luhan was hurriedly scribbling something down on a clipboard when Chanyeol stepped into the stench pit. The undead coroner didn’t look up to acknowledge his old friend even though he certainly heard the heavy steps from the hallway, maybe even from the floor above.

“I’ve actually been expecting you to arrive sooner than this,” Luhan chuckled, finally looking up. He slid the pen under the clip and placed the metal clipboard off to the side. 

Chanyeol leaned against an empty slab, his hands in the pockets of his black designer coat. Not that he actually needed one to stave off the cold temperature outside. He simply liked how it looked on his tall frame. “Well, you are practically psychic.”

“No. Just intuitive.” Luhan walked over to the wall that housed the newly arrived corpses and pulled out a drawer as Chanyeol joined him. On the cold slab was a young woman, seemingly in her early to mid-twenties. Pretty except for the thick red slash that tore up her throat. “I haven’t done the autopsy yet. I was waiting for you to arrive. Although, to be honest, I don’t really need to do one.”

Chanyeol frowned thoughtfully. That wasn't a good sign. “Was it him?”

“That would be my guess.” Luhan gently pushed the woman’s raven hair away from her neck, showing off the side where the cut was deepest and brutally applied. “I found two puncture wounds hidden beneath the cut. Obviously vampire. This isn’t an unusual way for vampires to cover their tracks but–” he stopped.

“But what?” Chanyeol urged.

Luhan sighed. “Did you see the girl crying upstairs? Pretty? Sitting at the detective’s desk?” Chanyeol nodded. “This is the second person connected to her that’s died. In this exact way. And both bodies were left around like they were meant to be found. I have a feeling another one will show up soon.”

Chanyeol’s eyes flashed red. The sudden change didn’t scare Luhan like it might have with any human. He’d fully expected this to happen.

“It is him,” Chanyeol growled. “This time, I’ll get him. And I’ll rip his throat out.”

Luhan pushed the drawer back into its holding cell, closing the door on the poor girl. “Do it soon. Before he kills someone else.”

With a hard nod, Chanyeol turned on his heels, stalking back to the elevator to start his hunt.

“I’ll send you the target’s information!” Luhan called out after him. The taller vampire simply threw up his hand in acknowledgment.

**

Why wasn't the breakdown coming? For the moment of what you had found down in the laundry room of your apartment building to truly come crashing down on you. 

But it didn’t come. Tears rolled down your face, but you didn’t really cry. Not the kind that came with loud wails and shouts of it not being true. And that’s all you wanted to do right now. You didn't want to feel this numb, this… dissolved. Like sea foam drifting along a calm surface. Undisturbed and slowly disappearing. 

After what seemed like an hour, the detective finally came back with a cup of tea, handing it to you without much ceremony.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

The detective nodded. “Now, (y/n), I know it's going to be difficult, but I need you to tell me about Jisoo and what might have happened.”

The last image you had of Jisoon flashed through your mind as you took a sip of the bitter tea and you flinched. Hopefully the detective, if he noticed at all, thought the look was due to the hot liquid. “I don’t really know what happened. Jisoo and I were close. We were around the same age–”

“You’re her neighbor, correct?” he interrupted.

You nodded. “Yes. For the past two years. Every Friday night after work, we’d go down to the laundry room. Hardly anyone else uses it at that time since most people go out to start the weekend. We’d normally talk about life, our jobs, family while waiting on the washer. I was late getting off today so when she didn’t answer her door, I figured she already went down. When I got there, she was… she was–” Your throat constricted at the memory, refusing to let any other words out. You needed to focus on breathing or you would start hyperventilating. 

Jisoo, lying on the dirty concrete of the basement laundry room. Bright red blood gathered around her head like a haunting halo from a cathedral window. Her eyes open, staring up at nothing. Body broken like a ragged doll, she was lying on the ground, thrown away without a thought, whoever attacked her not caring about the aftermath. No remorse, no second thought. 

You shook the memory from your head. You wanted to get it out, to say it out loud as if that would make it disappear from your brain forever. But you weren't able to voice the images to life.

“That’s okay,” the detective said soothingly, rubbing your arm as a means of attempted comfort. “Did Jisoo have any enemies that you know about? Anyone who didn’t like her?”

Again, you shook your head. “No. She tried to be friendly with everyone.”

“Did she complain about anyone ever?”

“No.” You sighed, “No one, but Ryan from work. But he’s just a perv.”

That peaked the detective’s interest. “Did he try any advances on Jisoo? Is that what made her uncomfortable?”

“N-no,” you stuttered. “He just shares a bit too much about his personal life. I met him once, when we went out. Even drunk, he never tried anything on Jisoo.”

That seemed to disappoint him. A possible lead already running dry. “Alright. I think we’ll end the interview here. I’ll get one of the patrol officers to take you home. I’ll give you my card, in case you think of anything else.”

To your relief, the officer who drove you back to your apartment didn’t say anything. He merely let the occasional radio message over his computer break the silence. Going all the way in chivalry, he saw you to your door five stories up. Jisoo’s own door across the hall had crime scene tape to stop anyone from entering in case they needed to gather more evidence or clues. You couldn’t picture what they possibly needed in there since she was found in the basement. But you weren’t an investigator, so what did you know?

You thanked the officer and went inside your apartment.

Just do your normal routine, you told yourself as the door clicked behind you.  

And so you did. You changed into your pajamas, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and climbed into bed. It was supposed to be the remedy. It was supposed to make your body’s rhythm jump back into place. And maybe it worked. How could you really know?

If it worked or not, it was finally there, in the dark, with the sound of the city attacking your window, that the numbness – protective arms and thick shield – slipped away. 

Finally, with your face hidden in your knees, you were able to cry at the loss of your friend.

**

Two weeks had gone by since that terrible night and you were sure you were losing it. Maybe you should see a therapist.

You can’t afford a therapist.

Well, maybe then you should get a new job.

But you loved the store with its endless shelves of novels, so living in constant paranoia for the time being it was. In time, it would fade away and you would be fine, back to normal. All of this was probably only your imagination, anyway. Your very active imagination.

A looming shadow perched permanently in the corner of your eye as you walked down the street to your job or to the grocery store or to the park. But whenever you turned to get a better look, it was gone. The feeling of being watched, of every step being analyzed and memorized was near constant. But no one was ever around. No eyes were trained on you, no steps matched yours exactly. 

In a change of pace for the day, however, as you went about your duties in the small bookshop you called your second home, you found yourself not quite as aware. Your mother often complained that you could do better, be at a bigger company and earn a bigger paycheck. But you were the assistant manager and with Bruce about to retire within the near future, you were next in line to be in charge. Why bother trying to start over somewhere else?

A few customers milled about the store, so you deemed it safe to leave the register as long as one eye was kept at the front. The pile of returns and donations was getting high and cluttered around the counter. You knew that Dani would never get all of them put away by herself. You grabbed a fair number and started wandering about the store, finding the right places for the novels among the shelves.

Being surrounded by the pages of other people’s stories made you feel better. The smell of old books took you back to leafing through your grandfather’s personal library. He never threw away a good book, constantly going back to a story that had touched him in some way. It drove your grandmother crazy. She would groan about what else she could be doing with the space that the multiple shelves took up. Your grandfather always stood his ground, telling her that the knowledge and wisdom printed on the pages was never a waste of space. 

Finding the G’s, you plucked the top book off of your pile. As you double checked the author's surname, you paused. It was the last book that Mr. Kim had purchased before he passed. 

Coming in every Tuesday and Thursday, Mr. Kim would browse through the classic fantasies while telling you about the authors he had met in his younger years. His collection of rare novels and authentic signatures was something you always swore you would see one day. Now it was too late..

Your heart had shattered when you found out that he wouldn't be coming in under the ringing bell anymore. You weren’t sure of the details, but someone said he had fallen down the stairs and hit his head. It was a terrible way for him to go. He was so sweet, like another grandparent you could turn to when you needed it.

Releasing a heavy sigh, you put the book away and searched for the next one's spot. Naturally, its proper place was on the highest shelf a few rows over, just out of your reach. You looked around, but the only ladder in the shop was currently being used by Dani, who was nearly a living elf with her unusually small stature. Being the stubborn person you were, you decided that you would get it up there without the stool. You stretched your legs, reached out your arm as far as it could go, and were on the very tips of your toes, but still you couldn’t reach it.

A large hand appeared from nowhere, bypassing your ear and taking the book from you to push it between the other historical fiction novels. Gasping in surprise, you whirled around to face the stranger. The momentum nearly toppling over the remaining books in your hands.

“Oops. Sorry,” the stranger chuckled, steadying the pile. His long fingers barely brushed yours. They were abnormally cold. Icy, even. Probably due to poor circulation.

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered. Heat bloomed on your cheeks. The helpful stranger was handsome. Though on the softer side of looks with rounded cheeks and large eyes, he was abnormally tall and broad in the shoulders. A boyish smile beamed down at you. It showed off blinding white teeth that were distracting.The muscles in your throat constricted, your stomach fluttering from the lack of space between the two of you, not helped at all by the closeness of the shelves.

“You’re welcome,” he said in a shockingly deep voice. A most contrasting element to his looks. He bowed his head politely. “I’m Chanyeol.”

“(y/n)." Clearing your throat, you asked, “Is there anything I can help you find?”

“I was looking for your supernatural section.” A light shimmered in his eyes that gave you the impression that he was silently laughing to himself.

“Of course.” You motioned with your head. “Follow me.” You led him to the back where his desired taste was stored. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Trying to hold your smile down at a friendly level, you nodded back and scurried away to put the rest of the books back on the shelves. The last thing you needed to do was accidentally start rambling about your unasked-for recommendations and say something embarrassing. 

You hoped to see him again before he left. But he didn’t buy anything and by the end of the week, he hadn’t returned to the store. 

**

Sundays were your favorite days of the week. The perfect day off from work, if anyone were to ask you. It was a calmer day, with a softer sun and slower steps. The weight of your own feet was lighter as you headed to your favorite little coffee café, newest novel discovery in hand. Taking a window seat along the storefront, you ordered an herbal tea and sat back in the cushioned chair. The spine of the brand new paperback gave a satisfying crinkle as you cracked it open.

Chilling mysteries used to be your favorites. The thrill of trying to figure out who was terrorizing everyone and their motivations while the main character tried not to be next kept you turning the page. But ever since Jisoo’s murder, the stories only gave you nightmares that forced you to relive finding her body in the basement. So, instead, you got as far away from murder mysteries as you could. A nice, soft modern romance filled with all the good cliches. They were a comfortable place to run to. You knew every step of the plot, no surprises waiting for you. 

So lost in the troubles of a screenwriter running into the sarcastic actor of her new movie were you that you didn’t notice the leg nearing the corner of your table until it was too late. It jostled the table enough to spill the now lukewarm tea, leaving the paper cup practically empty.

“I’m so sorry!” The other patron was already cleaning up the liquid with a handful of napkins they had snatched from the nearby stand.

“It’s alright.” You put your book down in your lap – the only safe place for it – and your jaw dropped when you looked up to see who it was that had run into the table. “Chanyeol?”

Those large, round brown eyes lit up when he recognized you. “(Y/n)! Oh, this is embarrassing.” Once the table was dry, he threw away the napkins in the nearby trashcan and picked up the now empty cup. “Let me buy you a new one.”

“Oh, no, that–” You were too late. He was already at the counter, reaching it in minimal strides, and ordered you another tea.

When he came back, he set down the freshly made tea before sitting in the chair across from you and taking a sip of his own coffee. “I’m surprised to see you outside of the store.”

Setting the book down on the now dry table, you tried not to look too pleased that he was staying to chat. “While some people might think that I live there, I do venture to other places on occasion. I really like it here, so I tend to come whenever I’m off work.”

“It’s a nice little café,” he agreed, glancing around. “So, how long have you worked at the shop?”

“Since I graduated high school.”

And just like that, you were telling Chanyeol basically your life story. He told you a few vague details about himself here and there when you asked, but he always turned the conversation back onto you. Typically, you preferred to be left alone when you were reading, but this interruption wasn’t wholly unwelcome.

Chanyeol was funny, often making both you and himself laugh. You liked the sound of it; the way his deep chuckles mixed with your own obnoxious giggles. He was smart, too, often randomly dropping facts that you hadn’t known before. He seemed to like surprising you and throwing you off guard.

After a few hours, it was time to leave, with neglected chores nagging you home. Before you could stand, however, Chanyeol grabbed your hand.

“Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Oh! Y-yeah. That would be wonderful.” With a shaky hand, you wrote down your number on an unsoiled napkin. He said he would call you with a time and so he’d know where to pick you up. Every second of waiting until then was going to be torturous. 

**

Chanyeol knew this was creepy. No one had to point it out to him. But he still couldn’t will himself to move.

When you’d left the café he’d followed you at a far distance, making sure you made it home safe. He’d been tracking you for a while now. He needed to see if he could catch Taejo on your trail while also keeping an eye on you. That sadistic vampire always liked playing with his targeted victims. His game consisted of the same elements: killing people around them until the slow realization that they were next sunk in. But he had yet to show his face. And Luhan confirmed that the only person who connected your neighbor and that old man – Kim something – was you.

So, Chanyeol had to take things to the next level. He knew that their hatred for each other was strong, so if he made his presence known, maybe Taejo would slip up or confront him. That was what dinner tomorrow was about.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He hadn’t meant to enjoy talking to you so much. It’d been nearly two hundred and fifty years since he allowed himself to be close to a human. To have a conversation with meaning with a human. It was surprising how easily you pulled him in, fascinating him with every little reaction, every little subtle movement. It was irritating.

And yet, here he was, sitting on your fire escape and watching you sleep. He hadn’t moved much since you arrived home and settled in your room for the evening. Not even when you left to go take a shower and get ready for bed. Now you were fast asleep in an oversized band t-shirt and a pair of very tempting shorts.

Chanyeol let out a low hiss at the thought, knocking his head against the glass. Dumb idea.

The sudden noise pulled you from your sleep. Your eyes snapped open and frantically searched the dark room. Chanyeol crouched down, cursing his too-long body for the first time as he tried to stay hidden and out of view of the window. He could hear your erratic heartbeat as you approached the window, only calming down to a resting thump when you found nothing. You settled back down on the bed and he decided it was time to leave.

He had a feeling he was going to be in big trouble if he didn’t watch himself.

**

What was this never-ending dream you had conjured up?

That first dinner with Chanyeol was more romantic than any movie you had seen. He reserved a private balcony overlooking the skyline at one of the most in-demand restaurants in the city. At his request, the table had a large bouquet of spring flowers that was eventually moved to the floor so you could see him across the way. You had a perfect view of the stars in the candlelight dinner. Conversation flowed with ease, never having a moment of awkwardness.

Chanyeol was a perfect gentleman the entire night. Maybe a little too perfect of a gentleman. It was disappointing that he hadn’t kissed you goodnight and your mind raced with worry. Perhaps he didn't have the same feeling about the date that you did. But that anxiety vanished when he showed up at the bookstore the next day, just to see you.

That was the pattern your life had fallen into over the past month. He would take you out with a surprise in mind or he would come over to your place for a more casual night in. At least three times a week, he would stop by the store to talk and keep you company. You could hardly believe that he was real. There was only one tiny snag. 

He still hadn’t kissed you. And you just weren’t brave enough to take that step, to make the move instead. You didn’t want to scare him away if he was the kind to take things slow. He seemed to be as invested in… whatever this was. But his lack of action planted little seeds of doubt in your mind and they were quick to take root. Their vines entangled your every thought as you walked hand in hand with Chanyeol down the street to your apartment. Not surprisingly, he picked up on your sinking mood.

“(Y/n)?”

You kept staring straight ahead. “Hm?”

He stopped your steps with a slight tug on your hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Embarrassed and unable to answer, you merely shrugged. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

The frown and creased forehead that emerged told you that he didn’t believe you, but he continued down the street, still holding tight to your hand. It was silent all the way to your door, even as you put the key in the lock to let yourself in. Getting a sudden sense of courage, you whirled on him.

“Is this real?”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Is this real?” you repeated. “Do you like me?” 

Chanyeol laughed. “Of course I like you, (y/n). That’s why I’ve been spending time with you.”

Your voice came out barely above a whisper as you stared down at the ground, shoulders bumping against your door. “But that’s all you do.”

He sighed, his breath ruffling the hair against your forehead. Cautious fingers caressed both sides of your face before tilting your head up to him. A small, playful smile sat teasingly on his lips.

“You’re really cute when you’re pouting.”

As you opened your mouth to retaliate, he took his chance and brought his lips to yours.

He started off tender, as if he were scared you might break or run away. Kissing him back, you showed him that you weren’t going anywhere. You snaked your arms around his neck to pull him closer so your bodies were one. He trailed his fingers down your sides at an agonizingly slow pace, as if memorizing every curve. They didn’t stop at your hips like you’d expected, instead continuing down to your thighs before lifting you up and pinning you against the door.

Chanyeol pulled away, looking up at you. “This is why I haven’t kissed you yet. I knew once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

You smirked, cradling his jaw with your palms. “Who asked you to?”

He shook his head at your challenge, diving in again and kissing you with more ferocity this time. It amazed you how he was able to keep at it while opening your door and carrying you inside with grace and speed.

As soon as the door clicked shut, he spun around and pinned you to the hard surface. You pulled away just for a second to get another lungful of air when something caught your eye. Wiggling out of Chanyeol’s embrace and feeling the wall to your right, you flipped on the light switch and screamed.

“YOU’RE NEXT” was written on your living room wall in bright red liquid that dripped off the letters.

Chanyeol hid your face in his chest and pulled you out of the apartment while dialing nine-one-one on his cell. The authorities were there soon after. You shook uncontrollably in the hallway as a small group of officers searched your home. Chanyeol answered every question and confirmed the two of you never made it past your front door. Words were going in your ears, but your mind wasn’t making sense of any of them, except one: blood.

A detective arrived at the scene, quickly speaking to one of the officers before approaching you.

“Miss (l/n)? This girl was found dead just a few hours ago. Do you know her?” She held out a picture of a girl on a metal slab, her eyes shut and skin pale. Taking in the face, you screamed.

Your knees gave out from under you and only Chanyeol’s grip around your waist kept you from crumbling to the floor. The sobs made it impossible to answer.

“It’s her coworker, Dani,” Chanyeol answered for you.

The detective nodded. “Is there somewhere you can stay tonight, Miss (l/n)? Where you’ll be safe?”

“She’ll stay with me,” Chanyeol declared. Those four words made you feel so relieved you were able to catch your breath and calm down just barely enough to speak again. You wanted to get away from here.

“Can we go?” you whispered.

The detective nodded before she turned to her comrades.

You hardly paid attention as Chanyeol drove you to his place, a piece of him you had never seen before. It was a fancy high-rise apartment building with strong security and reflective windows, but you couldn’t find it in you to be impressed at the moment.  

Chanyeol was patient with you as he slowly ushered you from the parking garage to the elevator to the inside of his apartment. He didn’t stop walking until you reached his bedroom. Without turning the lights on, he rummaged through his drawers and handed you one of his shirts.

“You can change into that, then we’ll go to bed.” He disappeared into the bathroom after giving you a soft kiss on your forehead. Closing the door behind him, he left you alone for the first time.

It took you a moment to function again. The effort it took just to undress and put on Chanyeol’s shirt exhausted you. The shirt itself was big on you, the hem tickling above your mid-thigh. Before you might have been a little embarrassed with how vulnerable it left you. At this point, you couldn’t find it in you to care. Operating in full automatic mode, you slipped into the king-sized bed, settling underneath the ice cold covers. A shiver tingled up your spine, but you didn’t care. You would be warm soon enough. 

Chanyeol came out a few moments later.He, too, had changed, now dressed in an old shirt missing its sleeves and plaid pajama pants. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he took your hand in his.

“It’ll be alright,” he promised.

You squeezed his hand. “You’ll stay with me, right? In here?” You needed to know that he was right there next to you, a stronghold holding off the person who wanted you dead. 

He seemed shocked at your request, but he quickly gave in, slipping under the covers with you. “Of course.”

You shuffled in closer to him. He encircled you in his arms, his hands splaying across your back. His hold was steadfast as you managed to fall asleep peacefully.

 When you woke up the next morning, Chanyeol was gone. A small note left on the nightstand let you know that he had to check up on something at work but would be home soon, so don’t worry and don’t leave the apartment. While it was difficult waking up without him, all you could do was shrug it off and get out of bed.

Making your way into the living room, you sat down on the couch and turned the TV on to the news. You should have known it was a mistake, that you were walking into dangerous territory. After the weather had concluded, the anchor turned serious. A picture of Dani appeared next to her on the screen.

“Twenty-five-year-old Dani Marcum was found brutally murdered last night in her home. The police are now suspecting that it could be linked to two other deaths: the murder of Jang Jisoo and Kim Kiwon.”

Your jaw dropped at that last name. No, no, the death of Mr. Kim was an accident. Wasn’t it? And now they were calling it murder?

“All three bodies were found drained completely of blood. However, the amount found at the crime scenes was not enough for authorities to say that they simply bleed out where they were found. They are not sure where the rest of the blood has gone. The only theory is that the killer drained the victims and took the blood with him, possibly as a souven–”

The TV shut off and Chanyeol tossed the remote aside before joining you on the couch.

“(Y/n),” he whispered.

“Why me?” you screeched, turning to him with tears in your eyes. “Everyone around me is dying and now I’m next. Why is this happening? Why!”

The answer you expected was that he didn’t know. The answer you were prepared to hear was that things like this happened and no one could explain it. But that was not what you received.

Chanyeol took both your hands in his, eyebrows knitted tightly together as he searched for the words. 

“(Y/n), what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You swallowed thickly, fearful of what he was about to say, but nodding anyway.

“Okay. Good.” He scooted closer to you, keeping your gaze locked on his. “(Y/n), there is a world you don’t know about. A world you think is fictional, but is truly real. A world of supernatural creatures.”

You froze. 

Then you got mad.

You jumped to your feet and moved across the living room, your voice cutting and piercing your throat as you screamed. “This is not a joke! Three different people close to me were killed! The same psycho broke into my apartment! And you’re going to tell me it was because of stupid things like vampires and werewolves?!”

Before you could blink, Chanyeol was in front of you, his hand over your mouth. That was impossible.

“Please, don’t yell,” he begged between gritted teeth. “I’m serious, (y/n). They are real. Just look.” He opened his mouth to reveal his two canine teeth had grown impossibly long. They were needle sharp and long enough to graze the skin underneath his bottom lip. Then, they shrank back again to a normal, uninteresting size. “We are real. The vampire that killed those people has been after you this whole time. His name is Taejo. He’s not a story, not a Grimm fairytale.” When you stopped fighting against him, he hesitantly removed his hand.

“W-why is he after me?” Proof of a whole secret world stood in front of you. A world that you had never asked to be pulled into. 

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol admitted. “It’s… it’s what he does. This sick game – he lives for it. He finds a target, someone he can play with, torture without them ever realizing it. He kills people around them, dropping them like flies before finally closing in on them. Those people die slowly and painfully, so he can savor every second.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been trying to find him, catch him before he can kill again, but he’s too fast. He’s always too fast. He’s older than me and more powerful. When I discovered you were his target, it wasn’t too late. I could finally do something.”

“You’ve been… trying to protect me?”

Chanyeol flinched, looking down at you guiltily. “I… can’t honestly say that. (Y/n), I’ve been wanting to kill Taejo for the past two centuries. When I was still a young vampire, he killed the woman I loved before I could turn her, to protect her. After all this time, I have a chance to kill him. He just hasn’t shown his face yet.”

Your own face fell. “So, I was just bait?” You let out a humorless laugh. Of course you were. Why else would he just fall into your life after such a tragic event? Why else would every date, every second together, feel so perfect? Anger swlleded up inside. You shoved at his chest, wanting him away from you. “I can’t believe you! Everything was a lie and you didn’t think about what this would do to me!”

The shove hardly phased him. Chanyeol took a step towards you, his hand reaching out. “(Y/n), it wasn’t like that. I mean, it may have started out that way, but now I–”

You smacked his hand away, scared of what would happen if you let him touch you. “NO! Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve done! You played with me to get revenge! And I was stupid enough to fall for it. To fall for you! I actually was going to – ugh! I can’t even believe how stupid I’ve been!” Tears fell down like rain. You hated how much crying you had to endure the past month. “Just stay away from me! I hate you!”

Chanyeol said nothing. His jaw hung slack. He dared to try to step closer again. You stepped back to keep the distance. He nodded. 

“I understand. I’m going to try and find Taejo. When I do – and I kill him – I’ll leave you alone. Forever.” He walked out the front door letting it close slowly behind him. 

The hell you were staying here. 

You couldn’t go to the police. Not a single person at the precinct would believe who was after you. But you could hide yourself. Pack a bag, hop on a bus, and go far away. Leave no trace behind. 

Rushing to the bedroom, you changed back into last night’s clothes. It was by pure luck that last night had been casual, giving you jeans to run away in rather than a dress and heels. You threw Chanyeol’s stupid shirt into a corner and left the apartment. 

While the elevator would have been the better option to conserve energy, you didn’t want to risk running into Chanyeol. He wasn’t in one of the higher units, which made taking the stairs a viable option. Several floors below, you stepped out into a side alley. 

“Well, I must say, I never thought you would walk right to me.”

You whirled around to find the owner of  the sickly sweet voice that had called out to you. Leaning with one shoulder against the high-rise was an older man with sandy blond hair and almost sheet white skin. He wore ordinary clothes like anyone else in their thirties, but something inside you said he wasn’t normal.

At the recognition in your eyes, he grinned. “Hello, dear.”

Before you could even consider running, he flashed before you, caged in both of your arms and pinned you to the wall. His smile turned impossibly sadistic.

“You and I… We’re going to have a lot of fun.” Taking in a fist full of your hair, he slammed your head into the concrete, filling your vision first with stars… then with black.

**

Cold metal dug into your wrists. With a painful groan, you opened your eyes, the memory of the alley coming back. You were kidnapped. And this place was your prison. Your arms were chained above you, your fingers numb from being above your heart for too long. The warehouse around you was crumbling in disarray. Windows were broken in and covered by rotting wood, holes in the ceiling created by rust. Only the shackles seemed to be holding together. No matter how hard you pulled, they stayed formed in the cinderblock wall. 

“Oh, goody. You’re awake.”

The sandy haired man appeared in front of you. He raked his long, bony finger down your cheek, the ghostly nail leaving behind a sharp sting.

“Chanyeol should have known this would happen sooner or later.” He leaned in close to your ear. “I always get my prey.”

You stared him down. “Taejo.” Hatred for this man flared. You wanted to spit in his face, kick at him, drive a stake through his heart. Anything that could satisfy your hatred, even if it was miniscule. 

Taejo chuckled as he pulled back. “What an interesting approach Chanyeol took, confessing the truth to you.”

“Why me?” you begged. If you had to die in here, you at least wanted to know the reason for all the pain. 

Taejo shrugged, as if you had asked why he didn’t like a certain restaurant. “You happened to pass by and smelled… so intoxicating. Some humans simply smell more delicious than others. I had to have it. And your fear right now makes it even more mouthwatering.”

You scoffed. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe so,” he cackled. “But it’s fun. Especially with Chanyeol thinking he could protect you from me.”

“He wasn’t trying to protect me,” you spat. “I was just bait so he could get to you.”

“Oh, dearie, how wrong you are.” Taejo shook his head as he folded his hands behind his back. He tilted his head to one side, and then the other. “Sure, at first he simply wanted me to see him, thinking I might slip up since I hate him so much. But I’ve been watching from afar. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, how he’d watch you as you slept, perched outside your window like a silent guardian. He looks at you just as he looked at her. Which is going to make killing you even more fun.”

You refused to believe him. This was another part of his game, nothing more. To give you hope at the last minute, making you call out for Chanyeol to save you before he drained you of blood. You would refuse. 

But as Taejo took that menacing first step towards you to start his torutre, he was gone. Pinned to the ground, he struggled against Chanyeol, who had his neck in his hands.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” Chanyeol hissed, his canines extended, sharp and dangerous.

Taejo laughed. “I was counting on it.” With unheard of strength, he slammed the taller Chanyeol into the wall next you, their positions now switched. “I wanted you here, to watch me rip her apart like I did the last one. To make you suffer before I kill you once and for all.” He smirked. “Or maybe I’ll keep you around as a pet.”

Chanyeol released a monstrous roar that shook you to the core. Filled with rage, he channeled it as he threw Taejo across the room, the latter crashing into a wall of stacked crates. They shattered on impact, a few pieces barely missing you. And then it was a battle too quick for your human eyes to see anything beyond two blurs of supernatural force. You strained your eyes to try and see if Chanyeol was winning. You silently begged him to win, too terrified of distracting him to voice it out loud. All you could do was wait and see who would come out on top. Snarls and hisses echoed throughout the warehouse as they crashed into old crates, crumbling them into sawdust in their wake.

Then the fighting stopped. Chanyeol had Taejo’s head in his hands with a leg wrapped around his torso to keep him steady. Taejo clawed at Chanyeol’s arms with his claw-like nails, but the scratches healed as quickly as they were formed.

“Just do it,” Taejo hissed.

“Gladly.”

A victorious cry echoed in the warehouse as Chanyeol ripped Taejo’s head from the rest of his body. Every lithe limb went limp as the unnatural life left Taejo’s body. Chanyeol gathered splinters of the crates, creating a small pile before dumping Taejo’s body and head on top. He pulled a box of matches out of his pocket, stuck a single stick, and then tossed the flame to start the cremation. Then he came to you. 

He crushed and broke the chains around your wrists. You were free. With no energy left in your body, your knees gave out. Chanyeol caught you before you could tumble to the ground. Sitting down, he cradled you in his arms, cupping your jaw in one of his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

You blinked up at him, confused. You squirmed in his vice, but he refused to let you go. “Why are you sorry? You got what you wanted.”

His eyes bore into yours, their familiar warmth refusing to let you look away. “But I almost lost you.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Because I love you.” 

Your jaw dropped at the bold statement, but he held a finger to your lips, stopping you from interrupting. 

“I know at first, my mind was only on killing Taejo, but you,” he tapped your nose with his finger. “you silly human with your blushing cheeks and beautiful laughter, made me feel something I haven’t in two centuries. My heart doesn’t beat, but it’s all yours. I understand if you still hate me and I’ll let you go if that’s what you want, but please know that it’s the truth. That I love you.”

Your mind raced, trying to find the lie in what he said. But you couldn’t find one. Chanyeol had gotten what he wanted: Taejo dead. You were safe again, so why would it matter to him how you felt? 

Slowly letting a smile spread on your lips, you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I think I love you, too.”

“Then I’m yours,” he replied. “Forever.”

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (more to come)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: October 2021

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: dead body/crime scene, blood and bite wounds talked about in detail, hypnosis/compelling someone to do something against their will, overall discussion of murder (basically what we see in every episode of the show))

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: Absolutely nothing you don’t already know, this is legit from the first chapter. Hotch is a Vampire (although the LEOs don’t really know that), Rossi is a priest, Morgan is so empathetically telepathic he can touch the auras in the air, and Reid is Reid. I know I’ve been giving you the juicy HotchReid stuff but here have some case stuff too, to see what you’re in for with the plot and everything. This is FIRST DRAFT so it’s terribly unpolished, first part is generalized POV (hence the more professional titles) and the second is within the team dynamics so they get more familiar. idk my first drafts are messy and indecisive, enjoy anyway. 💕)

–

They approach the body and Rainer shoos away his pestering, hovering officers and --- winces once again at the sight of the bloodied woman. “This is the third body in two days; a jogger found her about 6 am. Coroner says she thinks she’s been dead for about 6 hours; killed in the middle of the night, just like the others.” 

“Closer to five hours, I think,” Dr. Reid says, crouching down to look closer. All long legs and his gun looking too big on his belt next to his FBI badge. “Could still be within the Witching Hour, though.”

“Do you have accurate time of death estimates for the other two bodies?” Agent Morgan adds on, already picking up the train of thought Dr. Reid has started on. The detective pulls out an old-school flip notebook book and looks through it before answering.

“3:15am the first night, 9:30pm last night and now this.”

“Well that rules out hex, sacrifice, and spell gone wrong,” he concludes, as the other agents surround the body to inspect it from all angles. “So what are we thinking?”

“It’s a frenzied bite,” Agent Hotchner points out, looking from where he stands and not having to get as close as Dr. Reid to inspect it accurately. His eyesight is better than any microscope. “Shows multiple entries, it couldn’t get a good enough hold to rip her throat. Or she struggled, so it wasn’t strong enough to keep her pinned down.”

“The boys think it’s a Vamp,” Detective Rainer points out. “Maybe a baby one, still learning the ropes?”

“Vampire changes are regulated and no sire would allow whoever they turned to do this,” Agent Hotchner says, a colder flint to his voice that matches the way his dark stare cuts up to the detective. “No one has been turned in the United States in the past twelve years.”

“It’s not a Vampire bite,” Dr. Reid agrees, putting on latex gloves to further inspect the body and test the bite radius. “And it’s not a werewolf bite, either.”

“...Werewolf?” the detective says with a winded sound, eyes wide and looking to the three agents who didn’t even blink at the word. “There’s -- there’s such thing as werewolves?” 

“Detective, I think you should let my team and I work, we will come to you with our findings and then help you track down your killer.” Agent Hotchner doesn’t leave room for argument, his dark brown eyes looking pitch black in the early morning light, and Detective Rainer… suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to walk away. Like he can’t breathe if he doesn’t comply; he fights it, tries to fight it, and feels his will crumble beneath him like a sand bank giving way under his feet. He turns, even that small gesture lessening the pressure crushing his chest, and takes a step away from the group, air swept into his lungs like a riptide. He makes a hasty retreat after that, winded as if he just ran up a flight of stairs and the sweet taste of oxygen being his only reprieve. He doesn’t know what happened, and wouldn’t upon further inspection until much, much later.

-

“That wasn’t very nice, Hotch,” Rossi points out with a look of glib reprimand towards their team leader. “I thought compelling feeble minded beat cops was for those who have no skills to avoid it.”

“My patience was running thin, and we need to move faster on this case before our unsub kills again. He’s escalating.” That much is obvious, by the timeline alone, but Father Rossi still gives him a side-ways glance that says he finds far too much amusement in the undead’s antics. “Reid, are you sure it’s not a werewolf bite? It would explain the lack of control and precision.”

“I’m sure,” Reid says with finality, and no one makes a mention on why. He had done more research than any human possibly could in the past few months on werewolf transformation and the after effects of attacks. With what happened to one of their former agents mere months ago, no one doubted his newly learned expertise. “It’s also not a shifter, or a ghoul. We can rule out ghost and poltergeist as well, no residue or temperature shifts.” 

“Demon possession?” Morgan asks, looking to Rossi just as he does his customary Sign of the Cross at the mere mention. Can’t help the gesture, after his own past experiences. Giving anything the power of a name, even arbitrary, can be a dangerous thing. 

“We can’t rule it out,” he admits. “The teeth marks are human, someone possessed would still have a hard time biting that deep and doing that much damage. Cannibalism is only reserved for the amusements of level three demons, however they aren’t usually powerful enough to reach the mortal plane or take possession of someone’s body. They would need help.” 

“You really think someone would weaponize a demon like that?” 

“We’ve seen people do worse things, as has history, but I’d like to hope it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.” 

“We need more information,” Hotch concludes, arms crossed and watching as Reid stands up and removes the blood stained gloves. “Morgan,” his gaze cuts to the tall man in his deep blue suit. “Can you walk the scene, tell us what you see?”

“Not with this many people around,” Morgan shakes his head, eyes glancing to every person within a twenty foot radius. “Too many readings, the aura field here looks like an oil spill. The only thing I can latch onto is…” his gaze is back on the ground, hovering over the dead woman, who would have no aura to speak of at all and therefore a blank canvas. He replaces Reid’s space, crouching down to touch the air over the bite wound. Fingers spread wide, less than a foot from her but not touching, palm suddenly curving as if over an invisible shoulder, the place where someone had once been not so long ago. It could have been the coroner, or the crime scene photographer, but with it being so close to the body -- chances were it was the unsub.

“They were crouched down, half on the ground, no… human thoughts that I can hear,” he says, closing his eyes and letting his hand glide through the air a little more, following the curve of someone’s spine and up their neck, resting where the head would be. “They have a fever burning them up, hot as a furnace--” he keeps his hand there too long, suddenly jerks it back as if it had physically burned him, then stands up again. Shaking off the aura reading still sticking to his fingers and the forefront of his mind. “Sound like anything you’ve heard of, pretty boy?” 

Reid shakes his head, sharing a glance with Father Rossi. “We might have to go through some of your demonology books.” The older man grins wide.

“You just want to get your hands on them, at this rate you’ll have them memorized by next week.” 

“Dave --” Hotch says slow, a reprimand of his own.

“Fine, fine, I’ll have Garcia send us some scans. If the Vatican knew I was putting a book like that in his hands they’d strip me of all my titles.”

“Didn’t they already do that?” Morgan teases with a grin.

“Ex-communicated. I got to keep the dog collar, the honorifics, bless the holy water, you know -- the party tricks.” 

–

((if you want to be apart of the taglist just hit me up via comment, reblog tag, DMs or asks 💕))

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

i demand Hesperides Lore Dump /hj

Eyyyy look at me totally answering this ask when it was sent which was totally not like. A year ago. Or whenever it was /lh/s

But he's actually getting some content in my brain machine recently so Hesperides! Or Hes as I sometimes call him (maybe I should start spelling it Hess?)

So to put it simply, Hesperides is a near-immortal predecessor of the modern vampire thanks to some worldbuilding I did for the species. Got a lot of the perks and almost none of the downsides... Aside from of course being immortal and outliving entire empires, never mind people lol

Still, Hess has been around for a while and has hit a pretty chill point in his life because what happens, happens.... Even if that includes getting isekai'd into a dead-end alternate universe on the brink of collapse.

It's fine.

This is where the 'vamphunters' storyline comes into play! He gets kinda dropped into that other world on accident and it starts out like the magically charged 'alt-earth' he's familiar with, though with less emphasis on magic. But a bizarre "pandemic*" that should have run its course instead seems to run the world into the ground, turning people into a bland variation on yout typical zombie apocalypse.

Hesperides tries to save infected people at first, he has countless centuries of knowledge tucked under his belt, but nothing seems to work... He ends up changing tactics and wiping them out on sight, humanity can rebuild if there's less chance for the infection to spread after all. Along the way he picks up Luca and Cheshire and kinda unofficially adopts them, and spends the next few years keeping them safe while they try to wait out the "apocalypse" stage and seek out other survivors.

Except. That doesn't quite pan out for the gang, for some reason....

Eventually, after various plot, the trio gets isekai'd (in Hess's case, Again) back to Hesperides's home universe with its 'like us except all that aliens and magic shit is real and some stuff is better' Earth.

Hesperides gets his boys some goddamn therapy, and meanwhile he decides to sort out how the fuck it was even possible to get isekai'd in the first place, and why things went in such a weird direction in the other world. He joins one of the local superhero organizations, gets a goth bf with bonus kid, also adopts an au version of one of his existing kids, and alternates between being a cool interdimensional hero/detective and the goofy gay undead dad of the area.

...I think I gave some lore too much detail but also tbqh cut a lot of shit out. The dude has a lot going on for him lmao. Guess that's what happens when you live for thousands of years, huh

@ anyone reading, feel free to send in asks bc I'd love to talk more about the gang here!

*before anyone assumes, I wrote the vamphunters base plotline back in middle school, had nothing to do with Covid. Covid just somehow made the aggro spread of my fantasy illness unnecessarily realistic lmao

[codenamesazanka]

Here’s my steampunk AU:

(Spinaraki Edition because of course)

Spinner's a poor sap who had to leave his homeland that had been colonized by The Empire to go work in a factory.

It’s terrible work, terrible pay, and on top of all that, he suffers discrimination by being a foreigner/lizard dude.

So his coworker Stain convinces him to join the union

.

Shigaraki's an semi-Luddite anarchist who hijacks the workers' union for his goal to destroy society

he's also the long lost scion of the old imperial family, and so the rightful heir to the throne; but even if it's offered to him, he's abandoned it.

He just hates a lot of stuff and the current world and so his solution is to tear it all down

.

AFO, who raised Shigaraki, is a crime boss who's been beaten back in recent years by the rise of the so-called Heroes (see below)

He used to be like the most powerful crime boss in The Empire because he not-so-secretly ignore the strict rule of isolationism that was set in place and ran a very extensive and profitable black market, among other things

But after a coup that killed the imperial Shimura family and installed a new ruler who’s opened up the country to things like international trade and colonizing stuff, AFO’s been losing power

He wants and is plotting to put Shigaraki on the throne, whether the boy wants it or not

.

Dr. Ujiko is basically a Dr. Frankenstein who’s been ostracized for attempting to offer his undead creations as an alternative source of labor. It’s just seen as too weird

However, the Powers That Be stole his research and used it for their own purposes, combining steampunk technology with Ujiko’s ‘Bio-Alchemy’ to create essentially magic weapons (See Below)

Also they confiscated Ujiko’s beloved first Creature. so Ujiko isn’t pleased with this.

Now he works for AFO to seek revenge one day, and sometimes he lends The Creatures to Shigaraki for various schemes.

.

Heroes are sorta like the Pinkerton Detective Agency who provides private security and general policing and also bust unions.

People don’t have quirks; instead they have the magic weapons that are steampunk technology mixed with ‘bio-alchemy’, which gives them each unique abilities.

Only Heroes are supposed to have them

…yet somehow other people have gotten their hands on this tech and that’s a no-no

***

Anyways, story is sorta obvious:

Spinner and Shigaraki gets caught up in each other’s shenanigans and eventually creates a tentative alliance. Then they fall for each other while the world burns around them (from fires they’ve partly responsible for).

Buildings get bombed, airships get commandeered, people bring swords to pistol duels, there are intense and passionate Spinaraki scenes, and it’s beautiful.