#vampire heid

[thestarwarslesbian]

Bit about me!!!

Name - Alya

Type of Blog: Multi-fandom. Mainly NCIS, 9-1-1: Lone Star and 9-1-1

Height: 5”6 1/2

Pronouns - She/They/It

Sexuality - Lesbian, Asexual

Hobbies - Writing, Video Game playing and listening to musical

Fandoms - Star Wars, The west wing, Top Gun, Criminal Minds, NCIS, Doctor Who, 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone Star, White Collar, IWTV, Shadowhunters, Bones.

Favourite Ships - Codywan, Bail/Breha/Fox, HangBob, Hangster, IceMav, Heid, Bucktommy, Tarlos, Buddie (Platonic sometimes romantic), Devil's minion, Malec, Sweets/Zack, Aubrey/OMC.

My wife: Armand.

Favourite characters: Daniel Molloy, TK Strand, Buck, Jimmy Palmer, Neal Caffrey, Rogue, Commander Fox, CJ Cregg, Iceman, Spencer Reid, 11th Doctor, Alec Lightwood-Bane, Magnus Lightwood-Bane, Simon Lewis. Lance Sweets, Zack Addy, James Aubrey.

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

So many projects, so little time... anyway, here's chapter 11, "The Battle-Sick"

Page 3 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable ?:

I was a wonderful thing, shaped for fighting, Loyal to my masters, I slayed living warriors, Friends and foes, I was a weapon of war. I shall never be avenged, shall I fall in battle, As I am cursed, in the eyes of kin and enemies, To be not a man, but a monster. I am starved, of blood and flesh, Alone I roam this land, a damned Beast.

Soap can feel Ghost’s gaze burning at his nape, questions left unanswered in the silent space between them.

In the span of a few hours, Soap saw someone else come out of Ghost’s actions. A man, buried years ago in dry earth, dead in all ways but physically. The man Captain Price mourned, the man he aspired to be.

The man that saved those children wasn’t the infamous Ghost. 

Soap brushes a shaky hand over his mouth, the metallic taste of blood still sticking to his teeth. He’s running out of adrenaline, he knows, and the wheezing of his breath seems to be only getting louder in the empty alleyways.

He trips over nothing, barely catching himself on the cold wall, when strong arms pull him up.

“Coffee shop, on our three. Hold on just a little longer.” Ghost murmurs, hand coming under his shoulders to support his weight.

Soap goes to answer, finding his voice weak and scratchy, “aye.”

Ghost’s breath on his neck is somewhat soothing, in a way Soap shouldn’t find from a man like him.

The coffee shop has seen better days, to say the least. The stairs to the first floor have collapsed, and the ground floor is completely trashed. Quite like everywhere else in the city, Soap bitterly thinks to himself.

Ghost lets him down on the only chair that seems stable in the shop, and turns to clear it of hostiles. Soap gets up to follow him, but his vision darkens the moment he tries to get on his feet, and he falls back with a huff.

It would’ve made him angry, to be left so useless, but…

Simon has been left paralyzed, defenceless, shoved a knife to his palm and bared his scarred throat, and still trusted him. Never looked at him with any less than…

Than what? What is that emotion, in Simon’s eyes, when he looks at Soap? He blinks away the dark tendrils encroaching on his vision, brows furrowed as he tries to keep a semblance of a train of thought.

Ghost returns before he can veer it back on track. “Please tell me you found somethin’ teh drink.” Soap groans.

“Affirmative, got us a tea.” Ghost spreads the supplies he gathered from around the shop on the table next to Soap, teabags among the bottles of water and scrap fabric.

Soap sneers, “awa’ an’ bile yer heid, we’re in a fuckin’ coffee shop and ye pull out tea, fuckin’ Brits-”

His list of expletives is cut by rough coughing, and Soap has to spit out the excess mucus on the floor. Ghost crouches down, and gently cups his cheek. Soap’s eyes snap to his. Whatever emotion is swirling in those dark brown eyes, he still can’t name, but it makes his heart twist.

Ghost tilts his head up, brushing fingers over the probably bruised skin of his neck, “have any trouble breathing?”

Soap’s breath catches, not from any physical wound, “no. Jus’... throat pain. Ah didn’t lose consciousness.” cold hands soothe over his bruises, making him involuntarily sigh.

Ghost nods, “tea will help with that.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckles as he pulls back his hands, Soap almost chasing them. Fatigue is starting to take its toll on him, and his head feels like it weighs more than a LTV right about now. A tap to his cheek makes him open his eyes (when did he close them?), “can’t sleep yet, Sergeant. Gonna clean your face.”

That’s the only warning he gets before a wet towel brushes over his mouth, sweeping over flaking, dried blood. “Surprised the wee ones weren’t afraid o’ either of us. One skull-faced bastard, the other looks like a damn vampire.”

Silent laughter shakes Ghost’s shoulders, “those kids were tough ones, swear they were about to fight me when we first met.”

“Tougher than they need teh be, at their age.”

Ghost’s movements become somber.

Soap catches one of the many questions floating through his tired mind, “why’d you save ‘em?”

The towel is thrown to the side, replaced by a dry one, “...I wanted to.” Ghost simply answers.

It doesn’t satisfy him, “that why ye worked with the Hunter?”

Ghost’s hands freeze for a short moment, before continuing to softly clean Soap’s neck. His words weren’t said with anger, but the harshness of them remained all the same. It leaves a bitter note in Soap’s mouth.

At what point did seeing Ghost get hurt by his words stop bringing any sort of satisfaction?

“I worked with the Hunter because… I worked with anyone. No questions asked, no job too dirty for me. Not that it was ever about money.”

Ghost lowers his hands, resting them in his own lap. His eyes drift downwards, lost in the past, “I did what I did because I didn’t know anything else. Survival meant fighting, and it didn’t matter who.”

Ghost rises to his feet, taking a cup off the nearby shelf and setting about to make the tea, “as long as there was blood on my hands that wasn’t mine, I knew I was alive.”

Soap opens his mouth, cruel words at the tip of his tongue, but he falters when Ghost’s really hit him.

Because he knows that feeling.

That hunger for violence, that need to feel bones break under his hands, a yearning stronger than anything for fresh blood. It is not a want, it is not something they take pleasure in. It’s simply the only way to feel alive. For Soap, it may be only for the Hunter and their soldiers. 

But when you’re constantly trying to survive, won’t the whole world start to look like an enemy?

“Why didn’t you stay with the civilians?” Ghost shakes him from his reverie.

The answer is stupidly simple. “I told ye we’re doing this together.” Soap stares deeply into Ghost’s widening eyes, “and I meant it.”

“But…” Ghost sighs, “we don’t have a way to find the Hunter.”

He hands Soap a cup, the aromatic tea somewhat pleasant for once. It is cold, but it does help the scratchiness in his throat as it goes down.

“Aye… We’ll-” a yawn cuts off Soap’s sentence, “we’ll need teh catch another fecker, maybe…”

Ghost’s eyes narrow at him, “what you need to do is sleep, Sergeant. You can’t even stand on your feet, can you?”

Soap scoffs, “‘course Ah can, ye weapon.” he thumped the mug down on the table, and held on it for dear life as he tried to rise from the chair.

Ghost caught him no more than 2 seconds later, when Soap’s face was about to have a very personal meeting with the dirty floor.

“Of course you can, huh?” Ghost goads.

Soap drops heavily back down, “wheesht.”

“Speak English.” he can fucking hear the smirk on Ghost’s lips.

Soap drops his head, finally giving in to the need to just crumple, “means shut yer puss…”

A hand on his hair surprises him, but Soap doesn’t dare move as fingers card through the tangles. It feels really nice… almost putting him to sleep.

Ghost’s voice is soft when he orders him, “c’mon, I’m sure we can find you a better spot for a nap than on a stool.”

He doesn’t really answer, far too knackered to be coherent. Soap feels the hand recede, and footsteps echo farther and farther away from him. A few minutes later, Ghost returns to urge him up, “set up some blankets and pillows behind the counter.”

Soap appreciates the attempt to keep him in the know, but at this point he’d let Ghost lead him over a cliff, and he won’t complain one bit.

The makeshift bed reminds Soap of the shitty pillow forts he would build with his sister back when they were kids, and the blurry memories make him suppress a laugh. With the way Ghost is staring at him, Soap thinks the giggles make him all the more concerned.

And what a concept that is. Ghost, concerned over his well-being.

Ghost lets him down carefully, wrapping him with moth-eaten blankets. Compared to the last “bed” Soap slept in, this is as good as a five-star hotel.

He can barely keep his eyes open, but Soap, as aware as he is in his compromised status, can’t let his guard down when Ghost turns to walk away. He manages to catch the sleeve of the giant man, and dark eyes turn to stare at him.

“Yer… yer not gonna leave me, right?” he mumbles.

Ghost stops, “just gonna go keep watch by the window. Not leaving.”

Sleep claws on Soap’s eyelids, and it takes far too much willpower to keep them open, “stay ‘here Ah can see ye… Don’ run off now…..”

The last thing he hears before he goes unconscious is, “never, Johnny.”

Gentle fingers card through his hair.

“Johnny.”

John groans, unwilling to open his eyes and start the day.

“Wake up, love.”

“‘S too early for that shite, let me sleep.” he burrows deeper into his pillow, enveloped in warmth and safety.

His pillow starts, very rudely, shaking with laughter, “fine, you lazy bastard.”

That voice… sounds familiar. Familiar in the way a knife’s weight is in John’s hand, in the way blood spills over his wounds, like the buzz of adrenaline in a fire fight.

Yet John feels… safe.

Gentle fingers card through his tangled hair. Why would it be tangled? Isn’t he at home?

“Can’t sleep yet, Sergeant. Gonna clean your face.”

John frowns, “my face is clean.”

Hands tilt his face up. There’s some sort of tackiness to his skin, he notices. A metallic taste bursts on his tongue.

John opens his eyes.

Dirty blond hair, messy from a mask pulled off non too kindly, rich brown eyes wide in surprise, dark like a grave’s fresh dirt. Scars leave valleys and hills on pale skin.

The features are there, but John can’t make sense of them. A stranger’s face, yet it feels so familiar.

Perhaps it is only the emotion carved into it, fear and shock twisting the man’s eyes.

Soap wakes up with a start, grasping tightly at the thin blankets wrapped around him. It takes him a few seconds to shake off the dream’s warmth, to feel again how cold the coffee shop really is. He takes a cursory look around - Ghost must have left for overwatch while he was sleeping.

He eventually forces himself to get up, encouraged by the fact that his legs stay somewhat steady under his weight.

“Ghost?” 

Soap walks over to the wider area of the coffee shop, where once there were floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed patrons to bask in the sun while drinking, but now are shattered.

In a dark, hidden corner, that Soap almost dismissed immediately, a huddled shape rested against the wall. Ghost’s dark gear blends near perfectly into the shadows. Soap is sure, if he wasn’t looking for the damn man, he’d never find him.

He has to step closer to actually see his eyes through the mask and darkness. Ghost is completely out, so still, he might as well be dead.

Soap huffs. In the entire time they’ve been fighting together, he’s never seen him asleep. The nearest thing to it was the rest in the shed, but even then Soap knew Ghost was constantly ready to strike, if it were needed.

Here, curled into a small ball, hands wrapped around himself, Ghost looks so unnaturally small and harmless. 

Soap doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Ghost shifts, murmuring something under his breath and curling further into himself. 

He scoffs internally and turns to find something to eat. The fuck is he doing, thinking this giant international criminal is cute. He blames that weird fucking dream he had, as well as a million different other excuses.

Soap repeats the mantra in his head ‘He’s not fuckin’ cute, he’s not goddamn endearing’, as he finds a couple of sandwiches that seem to be edible enough. He collects enough for Ghost as well, for when the bastard wakes up.

Whining from the dark corner makes him freeze.

Soap turns to look at Ghost, his shoulders now taut and shuddering, “...Ghost?”

“N-no… I wouldn’t… I’m sorry…” Ghost whispers, eyes scrunched shut.

Nightmare. Soap wonders if that’s what Ghost saw back in the shed. “Ghost”, he calls again, louder, the previous calmness he felt washed away.

Ghost’s hands crease his black jacket, leather gloves cricking in his tight grip, “I’m sorry… P-Price…”

He knows he shouldn’t get closer, that night terrors can make the friendliest of soldiers hostile, when shrouded by conjured nightmares and warped memories. But the sight of Ghost in that state makes Soap feel the need to do something, anything to help him.

He chances a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, “...Simon? Wake up, yer safe-”

Muscles bulge as they shoot up at him, Ghost wraps his hand around Soap’s, and in a blink, they’re on the floor. He pins him down by the neck, heavy breathing and shaking.

It hurts tenfold, to be choked for the second time in a few hours. Soap claws at the massive arms, attempts to lessen their heavy weight on his windpipe. Even in his sleep, Ghost is a force to be reckoned with.

When Soap sees those dark eyes open, searching wildly for hostiles, he thinks that perhaps, in his sleep, Ghost is even more terrifying. Fighting against the worst his mind can think of.

“S-Simon-” Soap manages to whisper.

The hands retreat instantly, and Soap turns to his side, coughing and massaging his wounded neck.

Ghost has crawled backwards until he hit the wall, eyes still wide open, their whites standing out over black painted skin. Soap heaves himself to his knees, moving closer to the shivering man. But Ghost shakes his head.

“Don’t-” Ghost says between breaths, “stay back.”

Soap, as he often does, refuses to listen, “why?”

Brown eyes flicker down to his neck before returning to his, “I’ll hurt you.”

“Ye won’t.” Soap stops in front of him, sitting back on his haunches.

Soap can see the tension still wrecking though Ghost, muscles trembling with fatigue and soreness. He chances a hand again, laying it on Ghost’s shoulder. The body under his palm freezes.

He leans in closer, tries to see inside Ghost’s eyes to his thoughts. 

This close, he can see just how pale his eyelashes are, how there are flecks of black shoot through the rich brown umber of his eyes. Something about them draws Soap in, in a way an oil painting would. How dark Ghost’s eyes are, how his pupils blend with the sclera.

“Johnny-” Ghost whispers, “the mask…”

Soap’s brows crease, “ye want me to take it off?”

“Please.” 

At his begging tone, Soap doesn’t hesitate, and slowly slides a hand over the skull, pulling it up and off.

Simon stares up at him, his eye black running down his cheeks, from tears or rain, he's not so sure anymore. At that moment, Soap realizes what emotion lingers in Simon’s eyes wherever he looks at him.

Faith.

Simon… has faith in him. More wholly than Soap remembers ever seeing.

Not just in life and death, but with this as well. With his most vulnerable moments. It shines through so clearly now, the serenity over Simon’s features the longer he looks at Soap.

He looks…

“Beautiful…”

Simon frowns in confusion, “what?”

Soap presses a thumb to the dark tear tracks, swiping under Simon’s eyes. “Yer bonnie. Never… noticed before.”

Simon opens his mouth to answer, and it breaks Soap from the trance he was stuck in. He pulls his hand away, as if it was burned, and wrecks his mind for a way to veer the conversation away from his stupid, weird behaviour.

Stupid steamin’ dream, stupid Simon with his stupidly pretty eyes, stupid-

“Ye said Price’s name. When ye were…”

Simon looks away, lips curving downwards minutely, “don’t remember.”

Soap sighs. Should’ve expected the deflection-

“He was… my captain. Before.” Simon murmurs, eyes on the broken shards of glass scattered on the floor. “I haven’t seen ‘im in years, not since I became legally dead.”

Soap can imagine. He remembers, even in his brief interactions with the Captain, just how much it was obvious that Simon meant a lot to him. If he knew Simon was Ghost, surely Price would-

“That’s it.” Simon murmurs, eyes alight with a new fire. Soap raises an eyebrow, and Simon turns to face him fully.

Gone is the softness in his tone when he says, “I know how we can get to the Hunter.” 

Ghost stands up, offering a hand for Soap, “we need to get our hands on a radio.” Ghost leaves him behind as he starts collecting their equipment.

Soap follows him, shoving a still wrapped sandwich in his hands, “what are ye planning, Simon?”

Those dark eyes stare at him with newfound conviction, as Ghost pulls the mask back over his head.

“There’s only one other person who would be able to locate the Hunter in this city.”

Soap’s brows shoot up when he understands.

“Captain Price…”

[miseryscrowned]

Six Song Soundtrack

Tagged by @dragonologist-phd, this is literally the perfect challenge tysm for the tag!

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:

An event that defines your character's past

How your character sees themselves

How others view them

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

A major fight scene

End credits song

I have the habit to make playlist for some of my characters, these are from my Dardanos Playlist

Dardanos Soundtrack

1. You’ll Understand - Almah

« You’ll understand all this domain is something you will never tame, through all the slow incessant pain that then made you what you became! Just face your own terror and rise up again! »

As a young Dardanos is consumed by hatred for a world where he’s shunned and alone, the demon who made a deal with his parents before he was born comes to take him to the Hells, speaking these words.

2. One Man Army - Ensiferum

« I will take the lives, lives of my enemies, yet still this battle feels like a defeat to me. Death or victory only emptiness I feel. The spring of hope runs dry, because I'm already dead inside. »

Dardanos sees himself as a killing machine, he doesn’t think he’s capable of feeling hope, happiness or love, only self preservation.

3. Herboren in Vlammen - Heidevolk

« Ziet hen rennend over de heide, vlammend in schaamte voor het ontij dat hij verspreidde. Laat hem lijden en vervloek de dag dat hij de wereld dit onheil bracht. »

« See him running over the moor, burning in shame for the bad times he brought, let him suffer and curse the day that he brought this disaster to the world. »

Dardanos is seen by most in Goudenhaven as not only a murderer but a sort cursed evil demon and even a bad omen, someone who brings disaster, misfortune and death, a lot of this is due to his brutal methods and his trademark: arson.

4. Epilogue - Fleshgod Apocalypse

« I’ll touch your heart again, waken the cold lonely dreamer, I will illuminate your soul wounded by emptiness… »

« I had to face all this scorn, staining my own land with useless tears. Look, now I am too tired to fight and run away from this filling light. »

Saskia is a Stadsridder of the city of Goudenhaven who crossed paths with Dardanos multiple times, she’s able to see through all his defense mechanisms and believes that he’s capable of good. Dardanos on the other hand hides his feelings for her believing it to be a weakness and keeps running away from her.

5. Now We Die - Machine Head

« I need your help for I have knelt, held fist at skies and cried out, “why?” Your shoulder strength, it gives me length. We lift ourselves, together meld, so take my hand, and don't look back… »

The battle of the Black Sun: the city of Goudenhaven is being taken over by vampire cultists and the Stadsridder Saskia is close to giving up as she’s trying to help her injured mentor, Dardanos shows up and convinces her to fight together to save the city.

6. My Negation - Dark Tranquillity

« How can you see my face? What’s to become of me? The art of reduction, stripped down through what seems defendable, scaled to bare revisions to stop making sense, levelling pillars of towering fear… »

As the battle of the Black Sun comes to an end Dardanos finds that his own defense mechanism of anger, violence and fear is crumbling and he’s unsure of who he is underneath and who he will become without it.

~

It seems like I make everything about Dardanos lately, I can’t help it he’s one of my favorite ocs, I def projected a lot of myself onto him (namely my taste in music and my mental health) <3

Tagging: @fantastic-mr-corvid @inquisibrenda @ravencrowley7 @alma-amentet @fllagellant

@blighted-elf @goddevouringserpent @dujour13 @izar-tarazed @wizzardyke

@my-dumb-obsessions @velnat004

Tag List

[queermentaldisaster]

‘Another Love’, chapter one, part two of ‘The Devil Made Me Do It; But I Also Kinda Wanted To’.

Ao3 linked above. Chapter underneath the cut.

Tags: @forestshadow-wolf @rainerestored @8-rae-rae-8 @bringinsexybackk69 @axelaxolotl09 @im-here-and-im-confused (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist for this series, please let me know!)

Two months. That’s how long it took for Soap to get back on his feet. And not once, in that whole time, did Ghost leave Soap’s side. They’d gotten even closer, considering they were spending every hour together. Ghost had begun to open up to Soap more and more, able to be more vulnerable around him. Then, when Soap was able to leave his bed, he immediately went to Ghost and hugged him tightly. “Thank ye, Ghost.”

Ghost smiled. “Anytime, Johnny.” He patted Soap's back, and the two of them walked out, Ghost's boots making a clomping sound on the tile of the hallway. Soap started rambling about something to do with chickens, and Ghost listened attentively. He watched as Soap's hands moved in time with his words, using gestures to emphasize his point. Ghost chuckled, his wings folded behind his back.

Soap froze, blinking. “Si, ah’ll be right back.” He looked at Ghost with a sheepish smile. “Meet ye in the lounge?” Ghost huffed. “Aye. See ya there.” And he kept walking, as Soap ran off. Ghost entered the lounge and let out a low groan, not noticing both Gaz and Roach on the couch. Gaz chuckled. “The demon has emerged from his lair.” Ghost growled, not amused. “Shut up.”

Gaz huffed, turning around, careful not to tear his partner's wings. “What crawled up your ass this morning?” Ghost narrowed his eyes. “Nothing.” “Bullshit,” Gaz responded. “you’re cranky. And I mean crankier than usual.” Ghost made a tsk sound, turning around and collapsing into one of the armchairs. “last I checked, my emotions were none of your business.” He snarled, his wings spreading slightly. Roach responded by spreading his wings in turn.

Gaz sighed as Ghost spread his wings a little more. Soap walked in, and Ghost immediately calmed, folding his wings once more. Soap climbed into Ghost's lap, and Ghost wrapped his wings around the man. “Ah missed this.” Soap murmured, and Ghost's heart melted a little. “I missed this too, Johnny.”

“It was nice for Alejandro to let us stay a little longer with Graves off the radar.” Gaz murmured, causing Ghost to growl. “I hope we get the news that he died.” He snapped. Roach's wings fluttered. “Unfortunately, vampires are like cockroaches. Hard to kill.” he signed. Gaz nodded. “Yeah. Cockroaches. Their weaknesses are few and far between, and no offense, but it's not like a demon’s gonna carry holy water.”

“None taken.” Ghost murmured. “But I do have one of their other weaknesses at my disposal.” He smirked, lighting a finger aflame. Soap's eyes lit up. “...Ah’ll be honest, ah thought ah was hallucinatin’ when ah saw ye light Graves on fire.” Ghost chuckled, readjusting his wings to completely hide him and Soap from the front view. He lifted up his mask just a little, showing his lips and the beginning of the Glasgow smile that was etched into his face. He pressed a kiss to Soap's cheek, smiling.

Soap blinked, looking at Ghost in confusion, before he looked away, a very subtle smile on his lips. Ghost would do anything to see that smile for the rest of his life. Ghost lowered both his mask and his wings, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest. Just then, a new Vaqueros recruit walked in. Ghost had to stop himself from instinctually snarling, already not liking this guy. He didn't know why, but he set off mental alarm bells. Maybe it was the eyes…

Ghost's wings tightened around Soap, his eyes narrowing. Danger. Danger. Johnny is not safe. His instincts were running wild, and he couldn't seem to calm down. He let out a breath, ready to lunge. Soap grabbed his hands, standing up and dragging Ghost into a separate room. “Keep the heid, Si. Ah ken, ah ken. It’s awricht.” Ghost was breathing heavily, but Soap moved his hands up to his masked cheeks. “Dinnae fash yersel, it’s awricht.” Soap’s voice was soothing, his Scottish accent like a rock in the river of Ghost’s rage. Ghost let out a breath, leaning into Soap’s touch. “We’re okay?” Ghost asked. “Aye,” Soap responded.

Ghost nodded, closing his eyes. Soap put one hand on his chest. “Ye solid?” he asked. “Aye.” Ghost answered, opening his eyes and looking at Soap with a smile. He brought a hand up and put it on Soap's cheek. “I’m solid, Johnny.” Soap grinned that stupid cheeky grin. “Och, that's ma Simon.” Ghost huffed, lightly shoving Soap away. “Quit being a prick.” Soap cackled as Ghost said that. “Ey, yer aff yer heid, I'm not being a prick.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, but pulled Soap into his wings. He leaned his forehead against Soap's, his eyes sparkling with a million unsaid words. “But you are, Johnny.” Soap laughed, cupping Ghost's cheeks. “Aye, but ye love me.” Ghost's heart seemed to skip a beat at that, but he just lifted up his mask once more, this time up to his nose. He leaned in further. “You’re right, Johnny. I do.” Soap's eyes widened and his ears turned slightly red, before Ghost's lips met his. Ghost's hands moved down to Soap's hips and he grabbed on, pulling him closer. Soap's eyes fluttered shut as his hand came up to the back of Ghost's head, pressing the demon closer to him.

Ghost let out a contented purr, his grip on Soap's hips tightening. ‘He tastes like citrus and vanilla.’ Soap let out a soft gasp as he pulled back from the kiss, with that same grin on his face. “I love ye tae, Simon.”

[alexanderpearce]

ooh i would absolutely love a media rec list from you (im a different anon but 👀)

omg u flatter me.. here are some pieces of media that i really love that i consider to be somewhat lesser known outside of my circles.. i do have lots of favourites not mentioned here that are far more mainstream (my favourite book ever is, embarrassingly, still The Secret History) but it's nice to shine a light on the more niche. i'll add content warnings but they're not comprehensive because i am just going by memory. im also not tagging gore because To be honest with me that's a given.

books and plays

Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (1499) by Anonymous/Francesco Colonna; very strange book where the author (who is actually revealed in an acrostic poem in Latin made by the first letter of each chapter) clearly has a sexual fetish for buildings and architecture. cw misogyny.

Seneca's Phaedra (1st century AD); i live here. Seneca's tragedy about doomed fatal diseased love. sorry i don't have a translation to recommend but you will be able to read mine one day i promise. cw pseudo-incest, misogyny.

The Pepsi-Cola Addict (1982) by June Alison Gibbons; vanity-published in the 1980s and only existing in five libraries around the world (until i suppose its republishing this or last year), this is a fascinating and very weird little book, and the story behind it too is very sad and interesting. i have a pdf if anyone wants it. cw predatory relationships, incest references, suicide.

The Doloriad (2022) by Missouri Williams; strange and swirling little debut set in a post-apocalyptic future, some really incredible prose. cw incest.

Geek Love (1989) by Katherine Dunne; What if the mother of sideshow freaks was purposefully consuming poisons and alcohols and cetera while pregnant to engineer her kids to be attractions Would that be fucked up for what. cw incest and the ableism inherent in the sideshow "freaks" scene.

Equus (1973) by Peter Shaffer; just read this fucking play man (or watch the 1977 movie!). cw animal death

movies

Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008) dir. Darren Lynn Bousman; sorry not sorry but this is my favourite movie ever. i've seen it 17 times. complete garbage trashy 2000s comedy-horror-gore-musical. insane cast. literal genius.

Caligula (1979) dir. Tinto Brass; Do you want to watch a two and a half hour long porno filled with torture and gorgeous costumes and conversations on power. well do i have the movie for you. cw rape, incest, i know i said i wouldnt tag gore but this one does have explicit penis mutilation so.

Van Diemen's Land (2009) dir. Jonathan auf der Heide; a pretty good movie adaptation of alexander pearce's first descent into cannibalism!! my main real criticism is that they desaturated the gorgeous green and vibrant west coast to grey doomy fakeness. cw beautiful gay love

Żywot Mateusza (1968) dir. Witold Leszczyński; incredible little Polish movie set in a rural village, on youtube with english subtitles.

May (2002) dir. Lucky Mckee; literally the most relatable movie of all time to me. socially awkward (super autistic) girl has trouble with love, you won't Believe what happens next

The Lair of the White Worm (1988) dir. Ken Russell; peter capaldi and hugh grant's earth shattering gay love story... super campy phallic lesbic homoerotic vampiric wyrmesque weirdo horror. peter capaldi wears a kilt and plays the bagpipes. you MUST watch this movie.

Ravenous (1999) dir. Antonia Bird; can cannibalism represent manifest destiny AND homosexuality? find out now!

And Then There Were None (2015) dir. Craig Viveiros; Agatha Christie could only dream of writing Burn Gorman's gay homophobic character in this. transcends the book hundredfold and if you disagree you genuinely have shit taste.

albums

At Least For Now by Benjamin Clementine; just listen to this right now i mean it this shit is fucking phenomenal. incredible voice and lyrics and piano and strings.

Stygian Bough Volume I by Aerial Ruin and Bell Witch; gorgeous atmospheric doomy metal

Ludevo by Ifi Ude; Polish folk with a modern twist as well as influences from Ude's Nigerian background, songs about death and drunkenness and love and ancient pinewoods

Songs About Teeth and To The Dark Tower by Cake Bake Betty; the vibe you have created is so freaky and awesome

Juniverbrecher by The Indelicates; something something brexit punch and judy isn't englishness awful etc etc. seriously underrated.

Bath Time by Maija Sofia; super atmospheric devastating album with lots of songs focusing on specific female figures throughout history. her recent album is also great.

honourable mention to The Thick of It (2005-2012) which if you follow my sideblog you will know ive been spiralling into depravity over for months now. you may ask, if you compare my posts to what the show is actually like, What on earth is she talking about and to that i have nothing to say

[twlighthqs]

˖ ࣪ . ࿐   ♡   ˚ . WELCOME  TO  FORKS  ,  isabella  swan  &.   heidi.  we  hope  you  settle  in  well  in  this  crazy  place. please  message  the  main  within  24  hours  to  receive  the  link  to  the  discord.   isabella  swan  ,  lola  tung  ,  heide  and  mimi  kenen  are  now  taken.

(   lola  tung  *  demi  woman  *  she/they  )  ˖ ࣪ . ࿐   ♡   ˚ .  i  heard  that's  ISABELLA  SWAN.  y'know  the  21  year  old  GIFTED HUMAN  with  the  ability  of  MENTAL  SHIELD.  oh  yeah  ,  now  i  remember ,  i've  seen  them  around  forks  for  the  past  THREE  MONTHS. they  came  to  forks  because  THEY  PROMISED  THEIR  DAD  THAT  THEY’D  ATTEND  SCHOOL  HERE.  i've  gathered  quite  the  reputation  for  being  GAUCHE,  MATURE  and  RECLUSIVE, maybe  that  is  why  they  are  a  LIBRARY  CLERK  @  THUNDERBIRD  &  WHALE  BOOKSTORE  /  STUDENT.      𓍢    ˖ ࣪ . ࿐   ♡   ˚ .   sydney,  23,  est,  she/her. ˖ ࣪ . ࿐   ♡   ˚ .

(   mimi  keene  *  demi  woman  *  she/they  )  ˖ ࣪ . ࿐   ♡   ˚ .  i  heard  that’s  HEIDI.  y'know  the  26  /  470+  year  old  VAMPIRE.  oh  yeah  ,  now  i  remember ,  i've  seen  them  around  forks  for  the  past  SIX  DAYS. they  came  to  forks  because  WHEREVER  THE  VOLTURI  GOES  ,  SHE  GOES.  i've  gathered  quite  the  reputation  for  being  ENTHRALLING,  DUPLICITOUS  and  SCRUPULOUS , maybe  that  is  why  they  are  an  UNEMPLOYED  /  FISHER  FOR  THE  VOLTURI.      𓍢    ˖ ࣪ . ࿐   ♡   ˚ .   

[inactive-luv]

…

Hunger: 1.7k words

cw: vampires, feeding, handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

…

Spencer Reid had now gone two days without a feed, kicking himself for not packing extra blood. He sat on the edge of his hotel bed, bouncing his leg in anxiety, his mouth twisted in starvation.

Aaron can see his painful expression before his face dips into his hands, not even trying to hide his discomfort. Hotch knew what Spencer was, he had to when he hired him, but he never truly understood what it was like.

He knew the basics, the science of it. And as a profiler, he could clearly understand what was wrong with him.

Hunger.

His hand goes to Spencer’s back, and he flinches before looking at his face and calming as he takes off his tie frantically.

“I ran out of blood.” He whispered, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. Aaron nods his head, thinking to himself before whispering,

“Can I help you?”

Spencer thinks he means diverting his mind or eating something from room service. He doesn’t know that Aaron’s asking him to feed from him.

“I don’t think you can do anything, Hotch,”

“I’ve had someone feed from me before, Spencer, I don’t think-”

“What?” He asks, his heart accelerating as he feels his fangs pop out. He shuts his mouth, trying to get them to retract, and Aaron can see the obvious embarrassment.

“Spencer, you look uncomfortable. I’m simply offering my help.” He nods his head and turns to him sheepishly, not wanting to show him his fangs before Aaron opens his mouth again.

“I want you to.”

Spencer opens his mouth to let out a sigh when he notices his fangs and looks up to Spencer again. There’s a brief moment where they’re both sat still on the edge of the bed before Spencer gets up from his seat and grabs his neck aggressively.

Hotch is taken aback at his sudden movement but leans into it when he feels the fangs dig in. The first bite’s intoxicating. His eyes flutter as he feels a heat expand throughout his entire body.

But almost as quickly as it starts Spencer back up,

“I’m sorry!” He practically yells out, covering his mouth, blood coating his fingers. “I- I took a lot!” There's a look of concern and worry on his face as Hotch adjusts his seating and grabs his neck, blood still pooling at the entrance of his wounds.

“You barely took any?” His tone slightly questioning, barely feeling the buzz that once engulfed his entire body with the first bite.

“Really? You’re not hurt?” Spencer didn’t want to be greedy. He didn’t want to hurt Hotch. Even if it meant only taking about an ounce, he wanted to make sure he hadn’t injured him.

“I’m alright, Spencer.”

The sound of his first name, the blood on his fingertips, and the sweat on his brow drove Spencer wild. He felt his stomach turn and fill with butterflies. When their eyes met, he had to turn away. He walked over to his bedside table, where he placed his watch and put it in the palm of his hand.

“I- I should check you for hypovolemic shock.”

Hotch almost interrupted before he spread his legs to let Spencer stand between them. He put his fingers on his neck again, gently searching for a pulse while he checked his watch to count his blood pressure.

While Spencer forced his eyes on his watch, Aaron’s couldn’t help but wander. With his shirt unbuttoned and his tie off, he could see the pink twinge on his chest. And when his eyes went lower, he saw his hips jerk, almost scared of where his eyes were.

Hotch glared up when Spencer turned his hips away, and Spencer looked straight into his face when he felt his hand on his thigh. Aaron bit his tongue, looking at Spencer’s mouth, the blood and flush of his skin making his lips look bright red.

Spencer’s hands fell slightly before Hotch raised himself to kiss him. Their lips colliding gently yet with enough passion for each of them to melt in the other’s hands.

His hands that traveled from his thighs to his face, gently cradling his innocence in the palm of his hands as Spencer’s eyes travel. The pale of his wrist in his eye line brushed with blue veins.

Veins that flooded with saccharine blood he could almost taste beyond his flesh. Aaron watched his eyes wander along his arms, his beating chest. His gaze almost searing through his body to his heart.

“How bad do you want it?” He whispered, drawing him back from his delusion to the space between them, engulfed in tension. He waved his wrist past his face as he whimpered.

His gaze full of pure passion as he stared at his arm, the taste of his blood barely on his tongue. "Aaron," He pleaded, his fangs visible under his puffed lips.

"Answer me." He growled in his ear as his palm flattened itself against his scalp and pulled at his long hair. "Ah!" He whined, feeling himself grow hungrier at the pain and the smell of his blood still lingering on his neck.

"Please, Aaron! Please!" He whimpered, lowering to his knees as Hotch pushed him down, his eager eyes staring into his. "God, you taste so good! I need you please!"

When Aaron lets go of his hair, Spencer can't stop himself from leaping onto his neck. Digging back into the bruises he'd left before, drinking desperately.

For a moment, all Hotch can feel is the harsh sting of his fangs before his vision blurs, and he feels the bliss of his blood rushing. Heat expanding over every ridge and ache in his body.

Spencer’s legs lift up to either side of Aaron’s, teeth still sunk into his hot flesh. Endorphins flood his head, and blood rushes to his cock, achingly hard already. Spencer leans deeper into his collarbone, Aaron’s thigh inadvertently rubbing against his bulge.

“Mmh!” He groans with a full mouth, the teeth retract, and he pulls back quickly. Hotch looks up at his face, his blood lining his mouth messily as Spencer licks his lips gluttonously.

He’s so fucking hot.

He leans in for a kiss, tasting himself on Spencer’s tongue before he pulls them down on the bed, his hips still straddled by his legs. Their bodies grinding hard as the space between them diminishes.

Spencer’s shirt flies off first, then he lifts himself to pull his pants down, his cock leaking and deep pink. Aaron pulls his down to his ankles, his shirt being ripped off by a hungry Spencer.

His fangs are retracted, but he still kisses all along Aaron’s neck. Feeling the veins pound, his rhythmic heart beat against his lips. His fingers coast along his vertebrae, making Spencer moan when he reached his tailbone.

His hand flies to his face, and Spencer’s quick to engulf his digits in his mouth, his tongue swirling around them.

Two fingers enter his aching hole, slick with his saliva and a little of Aaron’s blood. Scissoring inside of him, Spencer lets out a debouched moan, so pornographic Aaron’s cock twitches under his hips.

Spencer leans back to sit upright on Aaron's hips. He spits into his hand, bringing it down to his cock underneath him and jerking him slowly. "Fuck," He groans out as he guides his cock along Spencer's entrance.

Gently coasting his head inside of him, they both moan at the sensation. Aaron leans up to kiss him, both of them sitting up now. He feels around his mouth with his tongue, collecting the enticing flavor of him mixed with his own blood.

He feels his fangs clash against his teeth, a wave of ecstasy washing over him as he tastes the toxins on his tongue. He thrusts into him, abandoning his gentle action, hungry for release as Spencer clenched around him.

"God!" He moaned out, Spencer whining before Hotch's hand met his neck, squeezing hard, and he smiles.

One hand grasping at his wrist and the other collecting the blood smeared on his neck. Two fingers enter his mouth as his tongue swirls around his digits. Spencer gasps at every thrust into his tight body, barely feeling the pain of his girth inside of him with the taste of him still fueling his high.

Spencer feels himself get closer, Aaron noticing and taking his cock in his hand, jerking him quickly. “Ah! Ah! Ah! AH!” He whisper-screams as he comes into his hand, his other still wrapped around his throat.

His mouth turns to his arm as his grip loosens; he kisses along his wrist, then up his arms. All along his veins, Spencer peppers tiny marks of pink bites between his teeth.

Instantly they’re both turned around, Spencer on his back and Hotch right above him, his cock still buried deep inside of him. His thrusts are much more rapid now, causing Spencer to moan so loud in his ear Aaron feels his dick throb inside of him.

Spencer turns his head to let Hotch suck on his neck, the pain of his teeth making him whimper under his touch. His eye line is right against Aaron’s wrist.

He wants more.

He needs more.

He feels his fangs press against his gums, longing to drink again, but he keeps them at bay, the fear of taking too much, letting himself control his urges. But Aaron looks into his eager eyes, practically begging for more, and feels himself turn past his lightheadedness and nods his head.

Spencer immediately takes hold of his wrist and lets his fangs sink in for a final time; gently drinking a few ounces as he listens to Aaron’s quivering breaths, he stops himself. Watching him for changes in his vitals, but instead, he looks down at him and whispers in his ear.

“Spencer,” He feels his cock twitch, and Aaron’s hand travel to his stomach. His calloused hands grip tightly at the base of his cock, swaying up and down his shaft as he moans and whines.

“Oh! God, please! Please! Aaron!”

He releases inside of him, thrusting his seed deeper into him as Spencer nearly screams his name, “Aaron!”

...

thats where im ending it. its been days that this has crowded my drafts box; i hope yall enjoy :P

@ssa-noa @ssa-sarahsunshine @tobias-hankel @makaylajadewrites @willowrose99 @sparklinspence @brillianthijinx @katytheinspiredworkaholic

[lalalaugenbrot]

jo haben wir schon über adams bücher gesprochen???? in seinem kinderzimmer?! weil... 

weil wenn nicht, äähhhm... können wir bitte darüber sprechen, dass

Adam

die (anscheinend) komplette Reihe von Tagebuch eines Vampirs / Vampire Diaries in seinem Kinderzimmer hat?!?????!!

...ich meine lbr zu 99% hat die Requisite einfach gesagt lass mal irgendne jugendbuchreihe hier hinstellen... aber zu 1% steht in hendrik hölzemanns charakterbibel auch DIESER JUNGE LIEBT VAMPIRE!!!!

[artcake]

Finished a sketch into a full piece for @ssa-sarahsunshine ! Got to love those Vampire AUs, we know Spencer does 😘

[merpancake]

Hotch notices that Spencer always has a jacket with a tall collar on, or wraps his scarf around his neck, whenever they have to be alone in Hotch's office or in the car together.

He thinks it's because Spencer is uncomfortable or nervous about being around a vampire, though he hides any feelings the rest of the time.

This starts to eat away at Hotch, that he has done or could do something to make the other man uncomfortable, or that Spencer believes Hotch would attack him if his neck is left bare. It might be unusual to work with a vampire but they deal with so many monsters of the human variety, he'd thought all his agents had made their peace with his condition. He tries to lead them into conversation that Hotch can use to emphasize how he wouldn't take advantage of anyone, no matter what, which means Spencer starts eyeing him oddly when they are working on cases together- apparently his skills as a profiler and negotiator fail him for this.

Hotch finally gives up on subtlety and asks Spencer to speak to him in his office- he feels bad about closing the door behind the clearly nervous agent, but this isn't a conversation that should be shared with the bullpen full of agents.

"First, I need to apologize for whatever I may have said or done that caused you to be uncomfortable with my presence," he begins. "I know that working directly under a vampire isn't what many envision their careers to be and it would be unfair of me to assume that you wouldn't have any reservations. I also-"

Spencer interrupts, "Hotch, wait, why do you think I'm uncomfortable? Did I say something? I've never had a problem with you being my unit chief, or even just working with you in general."

Hotch stares at him. "But you're doing it right now!"

Spencer is actually 'doing it'- he's tugging at the collar of his shirt, trying to pull it higher on his neck. "What, my- my shirt?"

Hotch is frowning at him. He's angry that Spencer would think so poorly of him, but also very hurt. He likes the other man, quite a lot, and thought they'd become friends. "Don't play dumb, every time I see you you're putting on a scarf or hiking up your collar like it'll stop me from biting you."

Spencer flushes bright red, which doesn't help the turmoil of emotion Hotch is holding on to.

"What, no! Well, yes, but it's not because of you- well, yes, it is but not because of /that/, really I thought you knew about my- um. No. You're not the issue."

Hotch isn't often left confused but he is now.

"Then you aren't- worried? About me?"

Spencer shakes his head. "Oh no, never! Hotch, I keep putting my scarf on because you keep your office so cold- the same when we're working cases, you turn down the AC any chance you get. I got sick of shivering over files and figured I'd just cover up."

That's- hmm. He /does/ prefer it colder when he can control it. And Spencer often reminisces about the desert heat of his childhood. Was it really just a matter of temperature control? At least he'd kept quiet about it. How embarrassing to miss something so obvious.

Spencer is still talking, apparently determined to show he's not bothered. "Really Hotch, your, um, condition isn't a problem for me. Not at all! I wouldn't mind at all if you-" he cuts himself off, blushing even harder than before, eyes wide.

Oh.

/Oh./

Hotch puts a few other pieces together, about Spencer's nervousness and blushes, and how he'd been either avoiding Hotch or slipping into his personal space over the last few weeks. He smiles. This is a.much better outcome than he'd expected, when he asked Spencer to come speak to him.

Spencer is still wide eyed in his chair, unsure if Hotch is going to gently let him down, or just ignore the slip entirely.

Hotch just settles back over his desk, hands folded, and lets a proper smile grow on his face.

"So....where should we go for dinner?"

***

@ssa-noa @ssa-sarahsunshine @thaddeusly @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel

[x-reader-theater]

@ssa-sarahsunshine You inspired me to write a vamp fic for Hotchreid, and while it may not be something you totally understand, I created a moodboard for you ;3

[mytwilightimagines13]

Pet Masterlist

UPDATED: 12 - 8 - 2021

Main Masterlist

The masterlist for the Pet series. I didn't know where to place this with my original masterlist so yeah. Here we go haha.

There have been quite a lot of confusion about the timeline of Pet.

Pet, The Beginnings

is the story and start around febuary 2006 and tells the story on how Mandy became their pet and how they train her.

Pet

itself starts from august 2006 and continues after Mandy has had her training and it will mostly be her journey to her life as a vampire. 

I hope you will all enjoy it! I want to thank @aro-is-gay-af and @vamp-army for being my devils on my shoulder and convincing me to bring this idea out into the world haha.

Characters

Pet 

Part One (Heidi)  Part Two (Caius) Part Three (Athenodora) Part Four Part Five (Marcus) Part Six (Marcus) Part Seven (Felix) Part Eight Part Nine (Aro & Sulpicia) Part Ten (Aro & Sulpicia) Part Eleven (Demetri) Part Twelve Part Thirteen (Marcus) Part Fourteen Part Fifteen 

The Beginnings

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten (Heid, Sulpica & Athenodora) Part Eleven (Aro & Felix) Part Twelve (Marcus) Part Thirteen (Caius & Demetri) Part Fourteen (3rd person, everyone)

[pearlcaddy]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you @lydias--stiles​​ for tagging me!

name: Kat (pearlcaddy on AO3 and FFN)

fandoms: Julie and the Phantoms. I’ve written briefly for other shows, but I never felt like I was in those fandoms—it was more “I can’t stop watching this scene on repeat, I’m going to write about it to get it out of my system.” That didn’t work this time around, whoops.

where you post: AO3. I crosspost most stuff to FFN but I hate the FFN doc manager so much (also, FFN deletes “special characters” and even repeat punctuation. ? is not the same as ??? Stop rewriting me, FFN! Awa' an bile yer heid.)

most popular oneshot: “Wizard Love,” which is amazing because that was such a self-indulgent fic that I thought would only appeal to me, and I’ve never written something so fluffy before, so I felt very out of my depth. The number of people who have told me they’ve re-read that fic multiple times brings me so much joy, I can’t even tell you.

most popular multichap: “A Hundred Bad Days (Made a Hundred Good Stories),” which is also amazing because I never thought I would write a fic like that, and it’s been really wonderful to see how much that resonated with people.

fics you were nervous to post: All of 100 Bad Days feels pretty out of my comfort zone, but I get the most nervous about Doing Justice To Things. So “Will You Still Know Me in a Year?” is a bit nerve-wracking because I’m aware of how gross the “person from the US goes abroad” subgenre can be. And my one Willex-centric fic, “Love Me for Who I Am and for Who I’m Gonna Be,“ still makes me nervous even though it’s been up for a couple months now because I’m worried I didn’t get our best magic boys right.

how do you choose your titles: I put together playlists as I’m outlining and writing, and the title usually comes from one of those songs. A lyric that sticks out to me that has some emotional/thematic/plot resonance.

do you outline: I always do a very loose version of a beat sheet, which lets me know broadly what scenes will be happening and what the significance of each scene is. I usually don’t start posting a multichap until I’ve got a beat sheet for the whole fic, because I want to know what’s coming down the pipeline so I can set it up.

favorite story I’ve written so far: Choosing between my children??? Probably “Some Killer Queen You Are” because I fused JatP and Buffy the Vampire Slayer—two series that are very dear to my heart that didn’t feel like they should be merge-able—and I’m really happy with how it turned out. And there’s something about a fusion that feels like the epitome of fanfic to me, because you’re combining established verses in a way that they never would be otherwise.

complete: In terms of fics, everything except “Will You?” None of my series are complete yet because I am, as always, completely unrestrained.

in progress: “Will You?”

coming soon: The second half of “Will You?” and then a oneshot in the Julie the Vampire Slayer verse where Julie meets the Pattersons. There’s a lot more plot bunnies running around—the full list is here.

prompts?: Not really. I like getting suggestions for things people might want to see expanded on when I’m working on a series, but for the most part, I want to feel passionate about an idea before I write it and I don’t always get that feeling with prompts.

tagging: @wisdomofme @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @lbswasp @sanssssastark or anyone who wants to do this. I tag you. You are tagged.

[wallwriterstuff]

Ignorance Without Bliss || Heidi Volturi x Female Reader ||

Words: 4951 

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, brief mention anxiety about crossing boundaries so if your sensitive to that please beware - remember anything nsfw is tagged as #writersfantasy so you can block this particular tag if you want to avoid this work and any others like it! 

Summary: You and Heidi have been together for a while now, the seductress unable to leave you since discovering you are mates. Everyone complains about the thirst you endure as a newborn, but you are thirsting for something entirely different...not that Heidi seems to realise. 

Heidi had never been late a day in her life until she met you.

She took great pride in her work, knowing she was a critical player ensuring the success of her coven, so she gave it due diligence. Every move Heidi made was carefully planned weeks in advance, every invitation she sent meticulously crafted and triple checked, her records filled with explicit detail and filed succinctly so the briefest glance could ensure that she wasn’t drawing too much attention to her little operation in any given part of the world. Yes, Heid poured her heart and soul into everything she did.

That included flirting with you.

You’d been smitten immediately for the woman who looked like she’d walked right off of the runway and into your little bookstore. She glowed under the warm, amber lighting in the cosy space, mahogany hair shining and striking violet eyes flickering over the shelves so rapidly you wondered if she was really seeing anything at all. You’d offered your help. It was only a small store with no employees to speak off except that one teenager that worked weekends, but this was a Tuesday, a rainy, dull Tuesday that had invited a gorgeous woman to your quaint little bookstore so many others passed by. She answered you in perfectly fluent English despite the lingering mix of accents that were melodic, but difficult to place.

With no one else in your store you’d devoted all your time and attention to her that day, enthralled by the bell like laughter and the generous heart she had. The radiance of her beauty was astounding yes but she was so much more than a pretty face, her quick wit and intelligence shining through the longer you spoke to her. She came back the next day to buy from you again, and one last time the day after that to leave you her contact details since she claimed to be moving on from the city. It would be a few months before you realised she was actually there to stalk her prey and ensure they got on the plane with her, Felix the one to let it slip as he playfully accused you of leaving him hungry. She’d been a whole 24 hours late and had half of the guard ripping into her for spending her time with you.

It was easy to fall in love with her, even over the internet. Text messages and video calls had become the norm for you and you worried when you didn’t hear from her for a while, though timezones weren’t an issue for her since she had no need for sleep and could reply to you consistently. Heidi was kind, thoughtful, charming. She was unnaturally gorgeous and yet she never failed to make you feel like you were the insanely beautiful one in your relationship, though it wasn’t defined for at least a month, by which time you were hopelessly in love and could care less about labels anyway. When she showed up unannounced one day you were absolutely delighted to see her, though her anxious expression had made you start to panic internally to.

She’d been horrified by the mere thought you might reject her for her vampirism, terrified you might run for the hills and leave her alone when you knew why she had really come to your city, what her job had required her to do to people you might have known or once served in your store. It had been a shock to say the least but somehow it was comforting, if only because you knew then that Heidi’s beauty was definitely inhuman so your own imperfections seemed less staggering compared to her flawless features. However, you had one small problem with your plan to run away with your vampire lover – how were you supposed to leave behind your life’s work?

You moved it online of course.

In the space of four months your life had changed drastically. With nothing tying you to your home city you had given it all up to live in a much smaller, quainter little town, launched an online business with the money you’d gotten for selling your store, and become the lover of a ridiculously hot vampire. It was like something out of a bad romance novel but you were thrilled by it all, thrilled she had chosen you, thrilled you could continue spreading your passion for good books, thrilled you could spend forever with someone who would only ever love you unequivocally. The thirst had been a little difficult to deal with at the start perhaps but as time wore on it was easier to forget about, to endure.

You were thirsty for something entirely different now.

Heidi took pride in her work because it was important, and that meant she dedicated a lot of time to it. She spent hours upon hours crafting invitations, travel plans and outfits, hairstyles. Heidi had crafted her persona now for centuries and was the ultimate seductress, so why the fuck had she not noticed how desperately you were trying to seduce her? Being a vampire heightened everything, and your desire for her had magnified to more than you could handle. You desperately needed an outlet for it and soon, because now you weren’t consumed by bloodlust your thoughts had turned to exactly how much you lusted for her.

You had never been particularly subtle, always one to speak before you had time to think, that preferred to be blunt over hedging around a subject, so you couldn’t blame her ignorance on yourself. You had stood behind her one night as she worked away in her desk chair and given her a shoulder massage, complete with feather light kisses that danced along her throat in the hopes she’d notice you. No luck. You had ever so slowly snuck your hand up her inner thigh, fingertips stroking lazy circle into her skin as you relaxed together on the chaise in your shared room watching TV once, but she’d moved to shower before you could take your hand any further, completely oblivious at your attempt to touch her.

You’d gone the whole hog and ordered some nice lingerie to in the hopes that she’d get the hint, but when she found you casually wearing it about your room you’d simply gotten a, ‘you look stunning darling’, before she went back to work that left your self-esteem a little shattered and you very grumpy. You’d given up at that point, your mind reeling with unanswered questions. Did she not want you that way? Was she asexual maybe? God you prayed your advances hadn’t made her so uncomfortable she didn’t feel she could speak to you about her boundaries, that was the last thing you wanted.

You were completely oblivious to her own attempts to seduce you too of course, completely unaware that Heidi was worrying about the same things you were. She’d ran the both of you a bath once, her hands sliding along the planes of your body she’d never explored before, but you had been newly turned and even the sensation of her skin against yours wasn’t enough to distract you from the burning in your throat. Heidi had understood that time at least, but she had been left confused and somewhat dejected when you’d refused her advances two months after that as well, her hands unzipping your jeans deftly when you’d suddenly pulled back to pack up a book needing to be shipped the next day you had forgotten about until that moment. You had both been getting ready to settle in for the night, so you’d thought she was simply trying to encourage you out of your tight jeans into something less constrictive for your comfort.  

She was working again now as you stared at her, half admiring her beauty, half worrying over how to bring up what you wanted to say to her. You needed to talk, your worry that you had crossed some unspoken boundaries too great for you to ignore now. You had been together for a little over a year and the lack of physicality was something you would work around if she needed you to, but you wanted her to be comfortable enough to talk openly to you about it so you could compromise, negotiate. You just didn’t want the relationship to fall apart because you’d been a bit too pushy with your mate. She was stunning even now, lustrous hair piled in a messy bun on her head and baggy sweatpants with the shirt tucked in was hardly an outfit designed to drop jaws, yet she made it look worthy of a Parisian fashion show. You ached to show her how beautiful she was to you, prayed one day she might let you, but for now you had much more unstable bridges to cross.

“Heidi?” you perched yourself on the end of your shared bed, staring across towards her desk with your nails digging into the duvet. She hummed her acknowledgement, hands flying over the keyboard of her laptop before she glanced across at you. She did a bit of a double take, noting your serious expression and your tense posture, then closed the lid and turned in her chair to give you her full attention.

“What is it darling? You look so serious.” She frowned, perfectly sculpted brows drawing low over burgundy stained eyes the same colour as fine wine. Her eyes were full of worry for you, her legs unfurling from beneath her as she sat forward, leaning towards you and cocking her head to try to prompt you to speak. You drew in a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation about to happen. You’d tried to think of what to say all week but nothing seemed right, no combination of words seemed sensitive enough or made your point as clearly as your usual blunt manner, so you were going to do what you did best and speak your mind. You could only hope she’d forgive you afterward if it made her feel more uncomfortable than she already did.

“I’ve been trying to seduce you for a while now and you’ve not really responded to any of my advances so…did I cross a line? Are you not, you know, are you not interested in being physical with me? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You told her. You internally cringed at the genuine shock on her face, but the expression quickly melted away and was replaced instead by amusement, a giggle escaping her before she was slowly sauntering her way towards you. Your eyebrows rose slightly, eyes magnetised to the swing of her hips as she approached with all the stealthy grace of a big cat stalking its prey.

“You think you make me uncomfortable? That I do not desire you?” Was it a question or was she goading you? You really couldn’t tell, nor could you decide if the mischievous glint in her eyes was good or bad for you.  You sat straighter, watching her every move like a hawk as the venom began to pool in your mouth. It was so difficult to look away all of a sudden and you understood how little chance her prey stood when she turned her gift on then.

“Yes.” You said finally, forcing your eyes up from her hips to her face with a monumental amount of effort. Her lips had curled into a wide smirk as she slid her hands along your cheeks, gently cupping your face and bending at the waist to press a feather light kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, the intoxicating sweetness of cherry lip balm spreading over your taste buds as she kissed you slowly, deeply. Heidi pressed a knee into the mattress by your hip, hands sliding down your neck to your shoulders, down your arms, coaxing them up so you could grip her hips. You held her steady and shuffled back, giving her adequate room to pull her other knee up and straddle you without fear of her falling off the bed.

The warm weight of her on your thighs, the curve of her waist in your hands, the taste of her tongue…it was better than any fantasy you dared admit you had indulged in. Heidi had ensnared your every sense, touch, taste, smell, sight, she surrounded you in every way and you felt utterly helpless to do anything but follow her lead. Your hands slid up her sides, one reaching around her back to push up her spine and into her hair, the other gliding smoothly up the front, grazing between her breasts on the way up to her jaw. Heidi pulled back, the trail of venom connecting you both only fuelling your lust as your grip on her jaw tightened, thumb reaching to graze her lower lip.

“Darling, I’ve been trying to seduce you to,” she sighed, eyes boring into your own, “I suppose we’ve both been a little blind.” You let her words sink in, the fire in your lower belly burning hotter as she touched your cheek oh so tenderly.

“So…I’ve not compromised your boundaries?” you checked, voice a little gruffer than you’d intended it to be. Heidi shook her head as you undid the bobble holding her hair in place, watching the waves of mahogany come cascading down over her shoulders with hungry eyes.

“None at all.” She promised.

“Are there any I should know about now?” you queried. Her lips slowly pulled up at the corners, her smile breathtaking.

“I don’t like to be tied up or spanked. I’m your partner, not your plaything.” She answered. You nodded your head.

“My bra stays on, and you don’t go near my ass.” You countered. Heidi laughed, the musical sound making you smile involuntarily. The heat in her gaze was matched only by the fire that had ignited in your very soul, the mere knowledge this stunning woman wanted you too enough to set you ablaze. How had you both missed the signs? It didn’t matter, now you simply had to make up for lost time…

“That can be easily arranged.” Heidi agreed, leaning forward to kiss you once more. You slid the hand on her jaw to the back of her neck, keeping her mouth trapped against yours. The best part about no longer having to breath was that you could quite literally kiss her forever, never once losing the sweet taste of her while your other hand tangled in her hair. A full body flush overtook you when you realised this was actually happening, that Heidi had genuinely wanted you all along. A groan escaped you as you tugged at her hair, forcing her head to tilt backward and expose her throat so you could lavish it with your affection.

She complied beautifully, lips parted ever so slightly and eyes closed as your mouth played along the column of her throat, searching for that one little spot you were itching to find. She was a vision to peer at through your lashes, a small smirk tugging at your lips when her brows were pulled downward, teeth catching her lower lip. You didn’t move after that, nipping and laving your tongue over the sensitive bit of her skin right in the hollow of her collar bone. Though you would never be able to colour her marble like flesh it didn’t mean you weren’t going to deny yourself the pleasure of trying. The hand at the nape of her neck slid down and around, fingertips teasing along her collarbone before you clasped your fingers around the fullest part of her breast, squeezing lightly as you bit down on the skin and pulled back to blow on the wet patch left behind.

She moaned so sweetly for you, the sound enough to make your ears ring. A flood of arousal assaulting your senses as you toyed with her through the fabric of her shirt, kneading at her chest and purring your approval when her hips slowly rolled against your own. It took her a few tries, but she quickly found a rhythm and a way of moving that tore your conscious thought to shreds. Mind foggy, you gave in for just a little while and let her redirect your kisses back to her mouth, her tongue moving perfectly in synch with her hips as the friction stoked the fire in your belly. Oh, she was good.

“I love you so much.” You mumbled between kisses. Heidi laughed, never once ceasing the rolling of her hips as she pulled back to stare down at you adoringly.

“The feelings mutual darling.” She replied. Your eyes wandered over the goddess bearing down on you, and your frustration mounted at just how little of her you were getting the pleasure of seeing. Hands moving to the hem of her shirt you tugged impatiently, Heidi pausing as she lifted her hands to let you pull her shirt over her head. No bra. You groaned your appreciation for the way her perky little breasts immediately bounced back into place, crystalline skin glowing in the sunset that poured through your window and leaving you reflected in rainbows. She was radiant in every way imaginable and the way your hungry eyes roved her torso actually made her shudder in anticipation. Her hair needed to be smoothed back from her lovely face so you could feel the full effects of her smouldering eyes once more.  

You were burning hot by now, so much so you feared the very flammable venom in your veins might ignite at the merest touch of her skin on yours, but you craved it more than anything you had ever craved before. She was beneath you in a heartbeat, gasping slightly at the sudden movement as you crashed your mouth back to hers for the briefest, most passionate kiss you could give her before your mouth was moving back to her collarbone, playing along the skin before descending lower. You shared arousal had long since tainted the scent of the air around you and you wanted – no, you needed to know, if it tasted as sweet as it smelled. Heidi’s hands found their way into your hair but you were far too focused on taking one pebbled nipple between your teeth, tugging lightly as your fingers tweaked it’s twin until her chest arched upwards, pressing for more of your attention with a contented sigh.

You left open-mouthed kisses around the curve of her breast, pressing your tongue flat to her skin and lapping at her nipple until you felt a tug at your hair. You glanced up to find Heidi’s eyes burning into your own, blackened by her desire for you.

“You want me to stop?” you asked. The sharp tug on your hair and the irritated growl that slipped from between her lips was enough to prove you wrong without the words that followed the action.

“No, I want you to stop teasing.” She pouted, making you grin.

“Teasing?” You questioned. Before she had a chance to reply you took her nipple back between your lips and suckled gently. A hiss of air escaped between her teeth and you chuckled, thumb stroking her ribs soothingly before pressing a gentle kiss to the swell of each breast and carrying on with your descent to the sirens call of her arousal. More hot, open-mouthed kisses you sporadically left over her stomach had her squirming ever so slightly, leaving you in awe at just how submissive you had made the seductress beneath you. She was completely compliant, more than happy to let you pleasure her as you had longed to do from the very early stages of your relationship.

Considering her dressed down appearance, the slinky black panties that were more barely-there-wear than underwear were a pleasant surprise for you. You snapped the elastic with a wicked grin.

“You like?” she asked, one hand carding through your hair while the other rested lightly alongside her thigh.

“I love,” You confirmed, “But they’d look so much better on our rug, black on white, you know?” Heidi laughed, lifting her hips for you to pull the flimsy fabric away without resistance.

“Are you sure you wish to do this for me?” Heidi asked. You snorted slightly, tossing her panties over your shoulder carelessly as you parted her thighs with your hands, rubbing up and down slowly as your gazed over every exposed inch of her.

“This and so much more, you’re stunning Heidi, an absolute work of art.” You vowed, your voice reverent as the fire in you raged, venom pooling in your mouth at the thought of the taste of her on your tongue. You swallowed it back, tongue darting out to wet your lips before your eyes darted back up to her face, keeping your gaze locked on hers as you lowered your body to the mattress. The movement was painfully slow and you could see just how much frustration it caused her, her head lifting to watch your descent before she flopped back with a slight huff, biting down on her lip to keep from begging you for more.

You had no desire to give in, enjoying teasing her too much as your lips ghosted along her inner thigh, your kisses pressing to every part of her except the place she wanted you most. The hand in your hair gave another sharp tug, trying to direct you, but you ignored it in favour of holding her thighs apart, simply exhaling right above her core. Her scent was driving you wild as your finger delicately drew a line down her thigh, up the crease where thigh met pelvis, over the top of her pussy and down the other side. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter as she growled at you again, and you finally took pity on your lover, reaching downward before pulling your fingers from top to bottom, gathering and spreading the wetness her weeping pussy offered.

Heidi sighed softly, tense muscles immediately relaxing as she settled back to enjoy herself. Your fingers smoothly ran back down between her labia, circling her entrance and shallowly dipping into her before running back up, your index finger giving her clit a firm little tap that made her toes curl just a little. She had waited so patiently just feeling your warm breath on her skin that the feeling of your actual lips pressing to her had her hand fisting the sheets. Your tongue worked its way between her folds, licking an upward stripe from top to bottom before you closed your lips around her clit and sucked firmly, just once, enough to give her a taster. Using the way your arms had hooked around her thighs to your advantage you reached around and gently spread her open, giving your tongue an all access pass to the most sensitive part of her.

You did not go easy on her, tongue flickering up and down, back and forth over her clit again and again until she was tightening her thighs around your head, the hand in your hair no longer able to play with the (Y/H/C) strands and instead applying a gentle pressure on the back of your head to keep you where she wanted you. Breathy noises were starting to escape without her permission, her mouth moving as if to speak despite no words coming out. Heidi bit down on her lower lip every muscles slowly going rigid with tension as she curled a leg around your shoulder to keep you closer. You pulled back from that, gently pushing her leg back. Her eyes snapped open, questioning and slightly annoyed you’d stopped, so you slid a finger through her glistening folds before carefully pressing it into her.

“I don’t mind doing this, but I’m not comfortable with you keeping me pinned, I need the freedom to move away when I want.” You admitted, probing her velvet heat as you spoke and taking note of how tight she felt as you stroked and searched. Heidi nodded her head.

“Of course, sorry.” She breathed. You leaned down to drag your mouth closed over her clit again, sucking as you went.

“Don’t be, you know now.” You said simply, resuming your kitten licks. The way she whined and squirmed to press closer had you grinning as you worked her over, the sweet, tangy taste of her on your tongue…you could feel your own arousal sticky wet at the apex of your thighs, your clit throbbing for some attention, but for now Heidi was your focus. You slipped a second finger along her slit before pushing it into her to join your index, but the way she tensed was just a bit too much and you immediately pulled back, making Heidi groan.

“No, don’t stop,” she pleaded, “Not when I’m this close.” A thrill shot down your spine but you kept yourself in check, even as the smug little smirk overtook your lips. You were the one who had done this to her, after all. The great seductress, on her back and begging for you to please her. It was like a good smutty novel, only better, since it was your reality.

“I don’t plan on it, but do we have any lube?” You asked, stroking her hip with your clean hand.

“Top drawer, my bedside cabinet.” She replied hastily. You shuffled over with all the speed you possessed to fish out your aid and swiftly moved back between her legs, pouring a generous amount out onto your fingers and directly onto her just to be safe. There was little resistance this time when you eased your second finger into her, scissoring and curling to help her stretch out just a little. Heidi watched you for a few minutes, the sight of your fingers disappearing into her over and over again only increasing her arousal, fingers twisted in the sheets while the hand that had previously been in your hair moved up to hers.

“Darling please.” She groaned, head tilting back and eyes closing so you wouldn’t see the desperation in her blackened irises. It was too late, you couldn’t miss seeing in her the same desperation you felt after all. There was no teasing this time, you settled yourself on your elbow and leaned down to flick your tongue over her clit again, mercilessly tormenting her now with a mixture of fast kitten licks and slow drags of the wet muscle, occasionally clamping down to suckle on her while your fingers worked inside of her, curling upward to prod at the soft skin that had her toes curling and her back arching. You held her down with a smug smirk, the inferno in your core raging as you increased the temp of your movements.

Heidi’s fingers tore through the sheets on your bed, her grip too tight for the flimsy cotton as her moans and pleas echoed around your room. You drank them all up, encouraged by her positive response to keep your tongue and fingers working in tandem until she clenched around you viciously, a loud, incoherent cry escaping her lips. With your keener eyesight you got to see every little tremor in her muscles as her orgasm took hold, your actions seeking to prolong her pleasure while your own desire became so insurmountable it demanded you slip your free hand down into your own pants. She was ethereal like this, writhing in pleasure, completely letting go and becoming her most vulnerable for you.

“Beautiful.” You muttered, slowing your pace. Time was different when you were immortal and what would have felt like the briefest 10 seconds of your life as a human felt like a small eternity now, one where you were both consumed by lust and pleasure and nobody else existed outside of that small bubble, no duties to attend to our businesses to run. She trembled as she came down from her high, her pussy still fluttering around your slick fingers as you pulled them free. Her eyes fluttered open just in time to watch you lick the digits clean, unable to stop the whimper of delight that escaped you. She tasted divine.

“Oh darling, come here.” She lifted an arm lazily, beckoning to you to come closer to her. With some reluctance you pulled your hand free from your pants, crawling up the bed and leaving lingering kisses against her skin as you ascended. Her arm curled around your neck gently, giving you plenty of wriggle room as her hazy mind recalled your earlier conversation. She had no problem tasting herself on your tongue and another needy whine slipped past your lips, your body aching with the need to have its more lustful desires sated. Heidi all but purred in your ear, hand reaching lower towards the hem of your shirt. You were more than eager to help her take it off.

“God, I need you.” You couldn’t keep the frustration out of your voice. Heidi’s lips pulled into a wide smile.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have teased me darling,” She retorted. Her hand brushed up along your ribs, fingertips ghosting over the skin beneath the underwire of your bra. “It’s a shame you won’t let me take this off, though blue lace is certainly a good look on you.” She cooed, carefully rolling you onto your back as you squirmed at the ticklish feeling.

“Heidi.” Your voice was raw with need. Heidi merely tutted in reply, her expression mischievous to the point it was almost certainly dangerous.

“Relax darling, we have all the time in the world, and I intend to use every second.”

[norsereadalong]

Additional Readings for the Eager...and or, those with the Saga-Fever!

As we dig into the wonderfully fantastic saga that is Eyrbyggja Saga, I wanted to give readers the opportunity to look at discussions in Old Norse Scholarship that have buzzed with the themes and topics brought up by this saga! Politics, Gender, Magic, Law, the Restless Undead, Religion-Belief, and the construction of a saga itself! Below this cut you’ll find a regularly updated haphazard Bibliography separated into sections. 

Those entries with an * (asterisk) present are free and accessible online–I will be happy to send you a pdf of every other article/chapter if I have it, just DM me the particular article you want at @cousinnick and I will do my best to send it to you. If you have any suggestions to add to the list, I’d be happy to look into them! 

Old Norse Read-Along Bibliography: Eyrbyggja Saga

Íslendingasögur/Icelandic Family Sagas:

Andersson Theodore M. The Icelandic Family Saga: An Analytic Reading. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1967.

Andersson Theodore M. The Displacement of the Heroic Ideal in the Family Sagas. Speculum 45, 575—93, 1970.

Byock, Jesse. Medieval Iceland: Society, Sagas, and Power. Berkeley, 1988.

Hastrup, Kirsten. “Defining a Society: The Icelandic Free State Between Two Worlds.” Scandinavian Studies, vol. 56, no. 3, 1984, pp. 235–255.

Jonas Kristjansson. Eddas and Sagas: Iceland’s Medieval literature, trans. Peter Foote. Reykjavik: Hið Íslenska Bókmenntafélag, 1988.

Ian Miller, William. Emotions and the Sagas in Palsson, Gisli 9th ed. From Sagas to Society. Engield Lock: Hisarlik, 1992.

O’Donoghue, Heather. Old Norse-Icelandic Literature: A Short Introduction. Blackwell, 2004.

Vesteinn Olason. Dialogues with the Viking Age trans. Andrew Wawn. Reykjavik: Heimskringla, 1998.  

Vesteinn Olason. The Icelandic Saga as a Kind of Literature with Special Reference to its representation of Reality, in Learning and Understanding in the Old Norse World: Essays for MCR, ed. Quinn et al. Brepols, 2007.

Eyrbyggja Saga:

Chadwick, N. K. “Norse Ghosts (A Study in the Draugr and the Haugbúi).” Folklore 57.2 (1946): 50-65.

Kanerva, Kirsi. The Role of the Dead in Medieval Iceland: A Case Study of Eyrbyggja Saga. (2011).*

Sayers, William.  “The Alien and the Alienated as Unquiet Dead in the Sagas of the Icelanders.” Monster Theory: Reading Culture. ed. Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 1996.

Draugar/Revenants/Restless Undead:

Ármann Jakobsson. “Vampires and Watchmen: Categorizing the Mediaeval Icelandic Undead.”  Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 2011, Vol. 110.3., pp. 281-300.*

Ármann Jakobsson. The Troll inside You: Paranormal Activity in the Medieval North. Earth, Milky Way: Punctum Books, 2017.*

Ármann, Jakobsson. “The Fearless Vampire Killers: A Note about the Icelandic Draugr and Demonic Contamination in Grettis Saga.” Folklore, 2009, Vol. 120, no. 3, pp. 307-316.*

Ármann, Jakobsson. “The Taxonomy of the Non-Existent: Some Medieval Icelandic Concepts of the Paranormal.” Fabula, 2013, vol. 54, pp. 199-213. *

Ármann Jakobsson. “The Trollish Acts of Þorgrímr the Witch: The Meanings of Troll and Ergi in Medieval Iceland”. Saga-Book, 2008, Vol. 32, pp. 39-68.*

Chadwick, N. K. “Norse Ghosts (A Study in the Draugr and the Haugbúi).” Folklore 57.2 (1946): 50-65.

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. Monster Theory: Reading Culture. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota, 1996. Ebook Central.

Glauser, Jürg. „Supernatural Beings. 2. Draugr and Aptganga.“ In Medieval Scandinavia: An Encyclepedia, Edited Phillip Pulsiano, pg. 623. New York: Garland, 1997.

Hartnell, Jack. Life and Death in the Middle Ages: Medieval Bodies. New York: W.W. Norton & Company Inc, 2018.

Kanerva, Kirsi. The Role of the Dead in Medieval Iceland: A Case Study of Eyrbyggja Saga. 2011.*

Kanerva, Kirsi. “Having No Power to Return? Suicide and Posthumous Restlessness in Medieval Iceland.” Thantos, 2015, Vol. 4, pp. 57-79.*

Kanerva, Kirsi. “Restless Dead or Peaceful Cadavers? Preparations for Death and Afterlife in Medieval Iceland.” Dying Prepared in Medieval and Early Modern Northern Europe. ed. Anu Lahtinen and Mia Korpiola, Leiden: Brill, 2018.*

Kanerva, Kirsi & Koski, Kaarina. “Beings of Many Kinds—Introduction for the Theme Issue ‘Undead’”. Thantos, 2019, Vol. 8, pp. 3-28.*

Laurin, Dan. The Everlasting Dead: Similarities Between The Holy Saint and the Horrifying Draugr. Scandia, 2020. N. 3.*

Merkelbach, Rebecca. Monsters in Society: Alterity, Transgression, and the Use of the Past in Medieval Iceland. Kalamazoo, MI, 2019. The Northern Medieval World.

Sanders, Karin. Bodies in the Bog and the Archaeological Imagination. Chicago, Ill.; London: University of Chicago, 2009.

Sayers, William. “The Alien and the Alienated as Unquiet Dead in the Sagas of the Icelanders.” Monster Theory: Reading Culture. ed. Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 1996.

Gender and Sexuality:

Ármann Jakobsson. “Óðin as Mother; the Old Norse Deviant Patriarch.” Arkiv För Nordisk Filologi 126 (2011): 5-16.*

Clover, Carol. “The Politics of Scarcity: Notes on the Sex Ratio in Early Scandinavia.” Scandinavian Studies 60.2 (1988): 147-188.

Clover, Carol J. “Regardless of Sex: Men, Women, and Power in Early Northern Europe.” Speculum 68.2 (1993): 363-87.

Jesch, Judith. Women in the Viking Age. Woodbridge: Boydell P, 1991.

Jochens, Jenny. Old Norse Images of Women. Philadelphia: U Pennsylvania v, 1996.

Jóhanna Katrin Friðriksdóttir, ‘Women’s weapons a re-evaluation of magic in the Islendingasogur.’ Scandinavian Studies 81.4 (2009): pp. 409-28.

Laurin, Dan. But, What About the Men? Male Ritual Practices in the Icelandic Sagas. Kyngervi, 2020.*

Price, Neil. The Archaeology of Seiðr: Circumpolar Traditions in Viking Pre-Christian Religion. Brathair 4 (2), 2004: 109-126.*

Raffield, Ben, Neil Price, and Mark Collard. “Polygyny, Concubinage, and the Social Lives of Women in Viking-Age Scandinavia.” Viking and Medieval Scandinavia 13 (2017): 165-209.

Ström, Folke. Níđ, Ergi and Old Norse Moral Attitudes. London: Published for the College by the Viking Society for Northern Research, 1974. Print. The Dorothea Coke Memorial Lecture in Northern Studies; 1973.

Wallenstein, Frederik, The Burning of Rǫgnvaldr réttilbeini, (Nordic Academic Press, 2013).*  

Politics and Law:

Jesse Byock. Feud in the Icelandic Society. (Berkeley 1982).

Firth, Hugh. “Coercion, Vengeance, Feud and Accommodation: Homicide in Medieval Iceland.” Early Medieval Europe 20.2 (2012): 139-75.

Miller Ian. William. Choosing the Avenger: Some Aspects of the Bloodfued in Medieval Iceland and England, Law and History Review 1, 159-204.

Miller Ian. William. Law and Literature in Medieval Iceland. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1989.

Miller, William Ian. Bloodtaking and Peacemaking: Feud, Law, and Society in Saga Iceland. Chicago, Ill.; London: University of Chicago, 2005.

Fantasy:

Hume, Kathryn. Fantasy and Mimesis : Responses to Reality in Western Literature. London: Methuen, 1984.

Larrington, Carolyne. “The Psychology of Emotion and Study of the Medieval Period.” Early Medieval Europe, 2001, Vol. 10, no. 2, pp. 251-256.

Mundal, Else. The Treatment of the Supernatural and the Fantastic in Different Saga Genres. (2006)

Ross, Margaret. “Realism and the Fantastic in the Old Icelandic Sagas.” Scandinavian Studies 74.4 (2002): 443-54.

Todorov, Tzvetan. The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre. Cleveland: Press of Case Western Reserve U, 1973. Print. A Volume in the CWRU Press Translations.

Mythology/Vikings:

Clunies Ross, Margaret. Prolonged Echoes : Old Norse Myths in Medieval Northern Society. Odense: Odense UP, 1994. Print. Viking Collection. v. 7, V.10.

Hayward, John. The Penguin Historical Atlas of the Vikings. London: Penguin, 1995.

Jesch, Judith. The Viking Diaspora. New York: Routledge, 2015.

Jones, Gwyn. A History of the Vikings. (OUP: 1968 rev. 1984)

Lindow, John. Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Price, Neil S. The Viking Way : Religion and War in Late Iron Age Scandinavia (2002).

Sawyer, Peter. The Oxford Illustrated History of the Vikings. (OUP, 1997)

Williams, Gareth, Peter Pentz, and Matthias Wemhoff. Vikings : Life and Legend. London, 2014.

Magic in Icelandic Family Sagas:

Ármann Jakobsson. ‘The Trollish Acts of Þorgrímr the Witch: The Meanings of troll and ergi in Medieval Iceland. Saga-Book of the Viking Society 32 (2008): 39-68.*

Davidson, H. R. Ellis. ‘Hostile Magic in the Icelandic Sagas’ in The Witch Figure, rd. Venetia Newall. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1973. 20-41.

Dillmann, Francois-Xavier. Les magiciens dans l'Islande ancienne. Uppsala: Kungl. Gustav Adolfs Akademien for svensk folkkultur, 2006.

Gísli Palsson. “The Name of the Witch: Sagas, Sorcery and Social Context.” Social Approaches to Viking Studies, ed. Ross Samson. Glasgow: Cruithne Press, 1991. 157-68.

Heide, Eldar. Spinning Seiðr. Old Norse Religion in long-Term Perspectives: Orgins, Changes and Interactions. (2006 Lund: Nordic Academic)

Jochens, Jenny. The Prophetess/Sorceress in Old Norse Images of Women. (1996)

Jolly, Karen. Definitions of Magic in Witchcraft an Magic in Europe: The Middle Ages. (2002)

Kieckhefer, Richard. Definitions of Magic in Magic in the Middle Ages. (1989)

Laurin, Dan. But, What About the Men? Male Ritual Practices in the Icelandic Sagas. Kyngervi, 2020.*

Lindow, John. ‘Supernatural Others and Ethnic Others: A Millennium of World View’ Scandinavian Studies 67.1 (1995): 8-31

Meylan, Nicolas. Magic and Discourse of Magic in the Old Norse Sagas of the Apostles in Viking and Medieval Scandinavia. (2011)

Miller, William Ian. ‘Dreams, Prophecy and Sorcery: Blaming the Secret Offender in Medieval Iceland’ Scandinavian Studies 58.2 (1986): 101-23

Mitchell, Stephen. Skirnismal and Nordic Charm Magic. (Turnhout: Brepols 2007)

Mitchell, Stephen. ‘Magic as Acquired Art and the Ethnographic Value of the Sagas’, Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society. Ed. Margaret Clunies Ross. Odense: UP Southern Denmark, 2003. 132-52. (attached).

Mitchell A. Stephen. Witchcraft and Magic in the Nordic Middle Ages. (2011)

Morris, Katherine. Sorceress or Witch? The Image of Gender in Medieval Iceland and Northern Europe. (1991).

Price, Neil. The Archaeology of Seiðr: Circumpolar Traditions in Viking Pre-Christian Religion. Brathair 4 (2), 2004: 109-126.*

Raudvere, Catharina. Trolldomr in Early Medieval Scandinavia’, Witchcraft and Magic in Europe: The Middle Ages. London: Athlone v, 2002. 75-171.

Steven, Justice. Did the Middle Ages Believe in their Miracles? (2008)

Ward, Benedicta. Miracles and the Medieval Mind: Theory, Record and Event 1000—1215. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982.

[shinrasfirst]

💞 {here to interrupt your vacation~ }

Send 💞 to ask Mun their Shipping Properties! They will answer all below!

What’s your OTP for your Muse?

I usually have several OTPs because I’m notoriously indecisive and very bad at picking absolute favorites, but I’ll give you my current fave ships for all my muses :)

Zack x Cloud (but I also really love Zack x Aerith and Zack x Cissnei and Zack x Seph adfjksdf) Sephiroth x Cloud because sometimes I’m mainstream like that, and Seph x Aerith because you’re a gremlin, Pan Johnny x Common Sense Kadaj x Cloud Biggs x ??? I don’t really have a lot of ships for Biggs (yet) but I do enjoy shipping him with @hautevaux quite a lot! Rufus x Tseng or Rufus x Heidegger ( @dogof-war ), sue me Roche x Cloud but also Roche x @stingslikeabee because Mari/Mel is pure perfection and this ship hurts my soul Rude x Reno

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

I mean. Anything? Mostly anything? My favorite part about shippy rps is, hands down, when they’re not together yet. The pining phase and the getting-together. I live for that shit. I don’t mind established things but they’re less thrilling, imo. I also love angsty stuff. Enemies falling in love, lovers becoming enemies, betrayals, star-crossed lovers, all that jazz. My least favorite thing to write is established fluff especially if it involves family planning. Babies aren’t really my thing and to me these threads get boring fast. I’ll take an angsty love story during the zombie apocalypse over a positive preg/nancy test any day. I don’t hate these threads! But if I have a choice..

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

I mean. I can handle some pretty big age gaps. I’m talking humans now, because vampires & co are a different story altogether. I don’t know. It more depends on how old they both are than how big the age gap is. Like, my Rufus and Han’s Heidegger are some 30 years apart and I don’t find it uncomfortable. (Heid seems to find it uncomfortable sometimes, Rufus doesn’t.) What I want is that everyone is over 18 and knowing what they’re getting into. After that it really more depends on how mentally & emotionally mature the characters are and how their story goes. But I guess an age gap of 50+ years would be a little odd. Idk, I’ve never written something so big outside of supernaturally aging characters.

Are you selective when shipping?

Yes. First of all, I don’t like all ships that exist. Secondly, I can only ship with people who see a ship roughly the same way as I do. And the characters. If someone writes a (canon) character in a way that isn’t at all compatible with the way I see this character then I won’t ship with them. Or if they want something from my character that I cannot provide, because my portrayal of my muse differs from their ideas about my characters.

I am pretty open to most ships, though. In the past I’ve been convinced of ships I never thought of before! Just ask me if you’d like to ship, I don’t judge ships. Worst case I’ll say no thank.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

I guess as soon as there’s a certain extent of nudity, or mentions of getting aroused. A clear intention of something leading to se/x. I wouldn’t tag nsfw if someone was just kissing, but if they’re groping or rolling around in bed, I probably would.

At the same time, like. Don’t be on tumblr at work if your boss is around 😂

Who are other Muses you ship your Muse with?

Zack: Genesis, Tifa, Angeal, Tseng Sephiroth: Genesis, Angeal Johnny: 👀 Rufus: Reno 💖, Reeve, Genesis 💙 (trust me, it works and it’s adorable)  Rude: Tifa Biggs: maybe Tifa?, Cloud Kadaj: uh.. life? Roche: Genesis (I blame that one @speedjunkie ), Tseng ( I blame that on @lifedxbt ), Reno?, Jessie?

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Yes..? I don’t like getting pushed into a ship without knowing. I’ll accept it sometimes if it’s a canon ship and I get a shippy ask, but unless we discussed it at some point, I won’t respond to shippy things. Unless they’re memes and just for fun!

How often do you like to ship?

All the time. Hahaha.

Are you multiship?

Lol, yes.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

I don’t like the word obsessed, it sounds very negative? I like shipping and I think it’s great fun to write various ships with various people. However, I have no problem writing threads and verses where my muses are not in any romantic relationships.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

This is tough. I really love Rufus x Tseng and Rude x Reno. Those might be my faves in FF7.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Just ask me, flail around and give me your headcanons :) The more you yell at me the more on board I’ll be.