#vampires behaving badly

[cary-elwes]

My 10 favorite hot looks of Cary

[lesbianmarrow]

it is like crazy how oz's breakup with willow and riley's breakup with buffy play out basically the same way. in both cases there's a lack of sexual passion or interest from the girls, and both guys feel that and respond to it by secretly cheating on the girls with women who are actually sexually desirous of them (and also are monstrous in some way) and then after the girls confront them about it the guys leave instead of trying to fix the relationship. there truly is such a queer bent to it, like with willow it's clear that she really likes oz and she finds his presence comforting and reassuring but she's not all that sexually interested in him. and most of the time oz seems cool with that, which tbh is probably part of why she likes him, but when we get to the werewolf lady plot it seems that he's gotten frustrated with it and just wants to be with someone who is actually into him. which honestly is reasonable! but it motivates him to behave very badly. oz's abrupt departure makes more sense if you read it as him picking up on some level that the relationship isn't gonna work because willow isn't actually attracted to him. and the whole thing kind of makes more sense in retrospect because later you see willow with tara and you're like oh so THAT'S what it looks like when willow is with a romantic partner she's truly deeply devoted to. and you realize how much her relationship with oz was lacking. as for buffy, it's kind of similar to how willow felt with oz, where she finds riley convenient and nice but she doesn't actually really want him, and riley starts seeing the vampire lady because he wants to be wanted. the buffy and riley falling out is written in a way that seems much more aware of the dysfunction of the relationship. and also seems really gay! because of course buffy next sets her eyes on spike and you all know ive decided spike is a lesbian. but also if buffy had gotten with a woman after the breakup with riley that also totally would have made sense

[tragedybunny]

Fun Astarion idea:

Tav finds a wish spell (does the Deck of Many Things behind Astarion's back and gets insanely lucky), and offers to use it to cure his Vampirism.

He would probably be annoyed at them for risking that, at least.

This one ended up short and sweet anon, but I didn't want to belabor it because I think it would be gilding the lily.

As requested, Tav draws from the Deck Many Things, Astarion is less than thrilled.

Gambles and Wishes - F!Reader x Astarion

“Astarion,” you pound on the door to your home’s library until you thought it would break. 

“I’m still not talking to you,” he shouts back, not even getting close to the door. 

It was locked from the inside and you consider an unlocking spell for a moment but stop. The lock was a boundary, and you hated to cross his boundaries, he didn’t get to have any for so long. Instead you opt to groan in frustration. “Please, this isn’t the healthiest way to solve our problems.”

“Neither is lying, but that didn’t stop you,” he shoots back and you cringe because he’s technically right. 

“It wasn’t lying so much as not telling. And see, you’re talking to me so why don’t we stop shouting through the door.” To be honest, it was starting to make you nervous, he’d never been angry at you for this long before. Maybe your good intentions had taken things too far. “Please Love, Starry Sky,” your voice shakes. 

The noise of the lock opening causes your heart to leap, but you're not sure if it’s dread or elation, so you just stand there, arms crossed around yourself until the door opens. Astarion stares at you with watery red eyes, “is that really how you want this relationship to work?”

“No, you’re right, but the possible reward was too great to deny.” Why can’t he understand, you’d do anything for him?

“So was the risk, you pulled a card from the Deck of Many things. You know magic, you know what could’ve happened.” He’s not shouting anymore, it’s so much worse. He’s barely whispering the words, and the tears are finally starting to spill over. “And you didn’t even consult me, we’re supposed to be equals in this.” 

So much for those boundaries you didn’t want to cross, the realization started to eat you up inside. Protecting him wasn’t a good excuse anymore. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I would risk anything for you and I knew you wouldn’t let me.” 

Even amidst all the pain, the two of you find yourselves holding onto each other. “Sunlight, that’s because you always take risks for me. You need to worry more about yourself sometimes.” He sniffles into your shoulder, and you hope his tears are drying as you stroke his hair. 

“I know, last one I promise. But I got what I wanted, one Wish spell, we can have the life we thought was impossible.” The life you wanted so badly to give him, the life he deserved. 

Stepping back from you, he appraises you seriously. “Are you sure this is what you would use it on? You could have an Empire, become a Goddess. Not that you aren’t already, especially when it comes too- ” he smiles lasciviously. 

“Astarion,” playfully you smack his shoulder, “behave yourself. And yes this is the only thing I could think of using it on. I couldn’t wish for anything more than you.”  

“You’re still a silly girl who’s too nice to me.” New tears appear in his eyes you notice, but for an entirely different reason. “Well then I accept, on one condition of course.”

“And what is that?” 

“You promise you’re stuck with me as long as we both live. I’m not used to being alive of course, I’m going to need someone to keep an eye on me for a long time. And let’s be honest, you’re the most qualified. I don’t think any of our friends would really be able to handle it.” 

He’s rambling but you know it’s because he’s nervous, so you lean over and kiss him softly. “Deal. Now let’s make you an un-undead Love.” 

[cursedhaglette]

Birdsong

“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”

“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”

“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”

----

The first time you let Astarion bite your neck, and you're surprised to find just how badly it makes you want him.

Rating: E Word Count: 2,600 Content: 18+, smut, afab reader, cunnilingus, oral sex, PiV, creampie, breeding kink if you look really hard, vampire bites,

[ao3 link]

You open your eyes, sensing something off even in your deep, dreamless sleep, and are greeted by teeth - a mouth open wide and ready to devour. 

“Shit,” is all he can say as he sits back on his heels, fidgeting nervously as you sit up and pull away - some latent instinct that you need to distance yourself for safety kicking in even though you know Astarion and what he needs. 

“I’m sorry, I - I only need a little blood,” he says, moving away from you and extending his hands in front of him. A gesture of peace, of safety. You don’t stand, but move to a kneeling position before him, well aware that your expression is likely one of fear and confusion. 

You’d agreed after his first feeding that you’d help when you could, signaling him after a long day if you were available for him that evening. His feedings are easy now, the process so quick and painless, you rarely wake up when his teeth meet your wrist in the dead of night. 

“I suppose I can help you with that,” you whisper, your voice still thick from sleep. “Um…how would you like me?”

“All over camp, love,” he smirks, and his smile only grows when he spies the quick blush that heats your cheeks at the words. 

“Ha ha,” is all you manage to say, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“Since you’re awake, I’ve been hoping to try at your neck one of these lovely nights together” his eyebrows knotting together as he moves to kneel next to you. “If that’s alright with you, my sweet, little bird.”

He’d been feeding from your wrist for the last tenday, working hard to master his control when feeding, especially since your blood is the best he gets compared to all the animals and goblins the wilderness provides. You’d limited him to that, trusting he’d keep his word if he fed from you while you slept, but he’d behaved himself - proven he could control his hunger. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, darling, but I am happy to take from your wrist again. I simply wanted to avoid the risk of scarring from repeated feedings. We need to keep you pretty, don’t we?”

“Hmm,” you consider, pinching your lips together and trying not to look too bashful. The thought of his lips on your neck… “I suppose my neck is fine.”

You tried not to cringe as your voice came out in a soft squeak, laying back quickly to hide your embarrassment. 

“Are you quite sure you’re comfortable with this?”

“You promise not to kill me?” Again, you try to joke, but your voice falters and only sounds tired instead.

“Feel free to push me off if you start to feel faint, you know the drill, pet,” he says softly, positioning himself over you. He smells of familiar herbs, rosemary and bergamot, and something dark but sweet as well. The feeling of his body hovering above yours, while he scoops his hand under your head so tenderly, starts an ache in your core that is wholly new. You want him to rest fully against you, to run his hands through your hair, and the thoughts make you close your eyes in hesitation. 

Before you can second guess yourself and this choice, he bites down, and icy pain draws a gasp from your lips as you try to adjust to the sensation. It’s more unpleasant than your wrist, to be sure, but under this pain is a different sensation - brought on by the feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck, suckling at your lifeblood with combined tenderness and desperation. 

You don’t expect it to light a fire in your belly, your breath hitching as his body draws closer over yours. It’s only been a second, but it feels like your whole body rewrites what you know as normal as he drinks from you. 

A quiet moan escapes your lips at the feeling of him sinking onto you, a distinct hardness pressing into the gap between your thighs as he writhes against you. You’re more than familiar with how the sudden rush of energy and blood usually arouses all parts of him, but feeling it against you, against your heat, is entirely new. He whimpers in turn, his hips rolling into yours, and then you can hear his voice echoing through your mind. 

“Are you still alright, sweet bird?” He asks through your shared tadpole connection, and all you can do was whimper in delight at the pet name and the purr of his voice caressing your thoughts. 

The world feels fuzzy and warm as he drinks, like you indulged in too much wine before bed, and after what feels like not enough time at all, he pulls himself off. Or rather, he pulls away from your neck, but his body remains against yours, hard and panting. 

You meet his ruby eyes, both of your expressions hazy and wild. He rubs the mess of red away with the back of one hand, keeping himself above you while resting on the forearm of the other. Some part of you is sad to see the red go, to see that sight of you on him swept away. 

“Darling? Are you alright?” His question is little more than a whisper against your lips, he hovers so close. You could feel his cold hands softly twist in your hair, as if to bring your focus back to him, back to your body, as you reorient from the bloodloss.

“I’m fine,” but your eyes don’t leave his, even as they grow hazy with sleep and bloodloss, your body suddenly desperate for rest. But without thinking, you reach up - tangling your hands in his mess of silver hair - and tug him down into a kiss. 

It’s slow at first, surprise causing him to tense for just a moment, and then he opens for you. His mouth crashing upon yours, the hardness between his legs digging into you as you fumble for more of each other, tongues dancing. The sluggish hum in your bones that’s familiar after his feedings seems to heighten the sensations of pleasure that course through you, your hands quickly moving to his sides, his back, his neck.

Before you might beg for more, he pauses and pulls away, scanning your eyes as he does.

Astarion sits up, and your body goes cold as he does - despite the fire just outside and the blankets that you were tangled in. “I’m sorry - I didn’t expect, well, to enjoy that quite so thoroughly.” He gestured with one hand to his body as he moved to stand, and your eyes fell to the obvious erection in his pants. “You were absolutely delicious.”

There are no words for what you see, the want that you feel crest within you like a tidal wave at the sight of him - of how he wants you. And you’d never seen someone so hard before…Gods…you’re speechless at the sight. 

You pinch your lips into a fine line but can’t stop the smile that you know comes upon your face as you look back up to his, meeting his eyes as he winks. Your face is hot, your body feels hot - you feel unhinged by the overwhelming desire that aches for him.

“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”

“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”

“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”

“Oh you wicked little thing,” Astarion grins, “I noticed how you pant and writhe when I’m lost in your blood. But I had no idea how desperately you desired me.”

“Well, then stay. Stay and fuck me, Astarion.”

“I do love a woman who knows what she wants,” and with a swift, fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his shoulders and his perfect chest is bared for you. You smile and lean back, tugging him against you as you do - propriety be damned. 

His mouth meets yours again in another chaotic, crashing kiss that tears a moan from you as his fingers go to the buttons of your sleepshirt. It falls from your shoulders and goosebumps dance up your arms at the contact of his cold skin on yours and the way your arousal grows more insistent with every swipe of his tongue against yours. 

He pulls back, scanning your face for just a moment, and you can’t help the mewling “Please” that escapes your lips, desperation evident in every word. You need more of him, and after waiting for weeks, you’re ready for him to give you everything. 

Astarion gives a wicked grin at the sound of your begging, but his mouth only moves low enough to take a single nipple in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the hardened peak, before latching around it and sucking deeply. 

He shimmies your panties down with his next movement and holds up your hips, sliding his tongue up the length of your sex while one arm keeps your legs above him. You can’t help but groan at the delicious feeling of his mouth finally meeting your waiting, swollen bud, and quickly have to rest your legs on his shoulders to keep from bucking wildly at the intensity of the pleasure he offers you. 

And Gods, but he devours you, lewd noises filling your small excuse for a tent as his tongue laps at your soaking cunt. The pleasure behind your eyes burns white hot as he slips his tongue inside you, his nose against your clit moving in time with each shallow thrust. He groans with each pulsing clench of your body around him and your hands tangle in the blanket below you as you grasp for anything that might ground you in this moment.

Before you get too close to your peak, he briefly sets your hips down and moves to slip his cock out of his pants. He palms his length with one hand, hissing as he tightly pumps himself, and then slips the other back inside you. Astarion moves low, adjusting his body in a single smooth movement and then he’s before you once more, licking up until he pulls your pulsing, waiting clit into his mouth and sucking. Massaging your inner walls while he holds your pleasure between his lips and rolls his tongue until you’re bucking against his mouth. 

You go over the edge, dissolving into waves of pleasure with his name crashing from your lips in a keening moan and feel the way his mouth turns up into a smile as you clench around his fingers, but his mouth stays in place until your body stills around him. 

“You taste so sweet when you cum,” He moves up to kiss you and you sigh against his lips.

“Hells,” you breathe when he pulls away, trying to catch your breath as the hum of release dances through your body, but Astarion has no interest in letting you rest. 

“Now, let’s go for one more,” he starts, lining his cock up with your entrance and then sliding it against your slit, wetting his length with your arousal. He presses into you a moment later and you gasp at the sensation, at the way he stretches you to fit all of him, and his next words are enough to nearly shatter you again. 

“This time, I want you to come around my cock, my sweet, little bird.”

He doesn’t wait another moment before withdrawing then burying himself to the hilt, his moan echoing your gasp at how full you feel once he’s inside you. His rhythm is so desperate and  slow and deep that you’re quickly lost in every punishing hit of his body meeting yours. 

You can’t muffle your pleading moans as you beg for more of him, for the pleasure he offers and he shifts, putting one leg on his shoulder once more so he can take you even deeper. He’s bent over you and staring into your eyes as he ruts, smiling and purring as he watches you come closer and closer to breaking. 

“Yes, that’s…so good,” he groans, “...doing so good for me little bird.”

His nickname for you, in this context, feels like lightning dancing through your skin and igniting in that aching place where your bodies meet. He kisses you deeply, moans exchanged in the space where your tongues dance, and then he pulls away quickly, his voice gruff as he demands, “Turn over, sweet thing.”

You do as you're told, flipping onto your stomach, and before you might shift to be on hands and knees, you feel his strong hands kneading the muscle of your ass, his cock lining up with your entrance once more. Astarion angles your hips up for him and slides back inside with a delicious, deep groan

“Wanna feel you - uhnnn, Gods, bird - come around my cock,” he moans, his rhythm growing erratic as you both approach the peak for your pleasure together. “Be a good girl for me, be - please - fuck, you feel so good -”

With deep push inside you, his cock finds a spot that has your eyes rolling back and your body soaking him in your arousal, his praise continuing until you do as he asks again. He brings you closer and closer to the edge with every perfect stroke, his hips meeting your ass and balls hitting your clit with every punishing thrust.

Your climax crashes through you this time, pulsing and clenching and begging for more and more of him. You see white and stars as you pant and cry through 

“Fill me,” you beg, finding your voice as the aftershocks of your orgasm leave your cunt fluttering around him. He fucks into you with absolute abandon now, desperate for his own release. “Please Astarion, come for me. I want to feel you fill me, please, please -”

“Gods above - fuck - oh, oh, fuck - ” he groans and slows as he spends himself within you, continuing to roll his hips into you with every pulse of his cock emptying within you. 

When he stills with you, neither of you move for a moment as you catch your breath. The scent of sex fills the air and you’re sure you should be bothered by how loud you were, how your companions have undoubtedly heard you both, but you don’t care. 

His cold chest presses into your back and you’re surprised when he dots cold kisses across your shoulder blade and then turns your cheek toward him, pressing a kiss there as well with a soft hum. 

“You have a lovely singing voice, my pretty bird,” he croons into the curve of your neck, continuing to pepper your neck, back and shoulders with kisses. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’d like an encore.”

When he moves off your back again, raising your hips til you feel his tongue licking at the spend he’s left within you, you cry a moan of delicious agony, and start to sing for him again. 

[punksocks]

Astro Observations No.19

(Thank you so much for the support everyone! I appreciate you following my blog c:)

*Just based on my experiences, only take what resonates

-Starting a new relationship during Venus in retrograde is guaranteed to teach you a karmic lesson with a probably karmic partner (I’ll never forget mine oml)

-Under developed Venus ruled men/ Men with heavy Venus placements are a nightmare. Underdeveloped ones choose to be chaotic with charming energy. Like f-boys or like vampires. They just tend to run through people and use them for validation. Sometimes they grow out of it and become better. A lot of times they just get too big of an ego and get narcissistic in this energy and are just destructive.

-The house your Juno is in could be an indicator of your soulmate’s placements (ex if your Juno is in Aries your partner may have Juno in first. Or if your Juno is in 5th they may have Leo in Juno. If your Juno is in Libra they may have Juno in 7th.)

-Libra/Taurus/Venus in 1st house people can get away with such criminal behavior lol, people will never blame them or they will always want to see the best in their actions. I feel like Leo Asc/Sun in 1st can get through a lot of actions with confidence but they usually do face blow back at some point if they’re behaving badly.

-Neptune 1st house/Pisces rising will have a more erratic sort of filter applied to them. Like usually they’ll get like subconsciously softened and idealized by others but they’ll also get certain traits like air head or spacey applied to them. Basically getting elevated and infantilized the most imo.

-Having North Node in Pisces can be a murky karmic placement. I’ve found that North Node in Pisces can manifest as anything from spiritual devotion and detachment from others to lifelong addiction and reliance on substances, any path that has heavy Neptunian themes which feels like a roulette since Neptune rules over confusion.

-Mars MC can be a sex symbol placement for any gender, someone known for their body or having a striking presence.

-Venus MC is definitely someone that’s known for being a charmer at best and a player at worst. Still very good with people either way.

-MC in Scorpio can manifest as someone that’s seen as constantly going through transformations and tribulations in their career and public life. Alchemy or catastrophe, always at an extreme.

-Venus can show where you are the most appealing to others (Venus in 1st would be seen as charming and probably having a very pretty face, Venus in 2nd would been seen as luxurious and having many resources and having a pretty body, Venus in 3rd would be a very charming speaker and likely have a voice that draws in others, etc I can make a whole post on this if anyone’s curious)

-Aquarius Venus/Venus in 11th fall in love with someone unconventional, or someone they met in an unconventional way (online dating, penpal programs, stuff like that)

-I find all fixed moons have really intense emotions, they just express it in different ways (yo if you’ve ever just disagreed with an Aquarius moon you know they can get touchy if you’re not on the same page with their logic)

-Aquarius is not a great way to figure out if someone is queer imo. The connotation of being lgbtqia+ being essentially strange/out of the norm is … something already but plenty of queer icons that live with their careers/lives revolving around the queer community have no Aquarius in their charts at all (I was looking at Elvira’s chart after this Matt Baume video on YouTube about how she’s a queer icon that was elevated by the queer community and was a closeted lesbian and she turned out not to have a single Aquarius placement, a Virgo stellium and Leo placements stood out the most to me). Sappho is the asteroid to check out for wlw I’m not sure for mlm but I’m sure Greek mythology has given us a great asteroid for the mascs

-Squares to north node can present “delays” with your destiny (more so having to hone aspects of your personality, having certain experiences beforehand, and coming into your destiny later in life, Joe Biden is an interesting example of this lots of squares and harsh aspects to north node and he ran for president like 7 times before he won, even became Vice President before, so interesting)

- (TW scars, harm) Scorpio can show where you have organic scars/birthmarks (Scorpio in 1st birth marks/freckles just appear on my face) where as Pluto can show where you get scars through experiences (I have Pluto in 2nd and I got burned on the lower third of my body when my dad left me in a hot water bath as a baby :/)

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 49: Alexander's Task

Prev > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, hypnotic induction, branding, possessiveness, drunkenness

September 1925

The walk home from the ballet had been somber, to say the least. Oliver had started off the night so excited, and he knew Alexander had, too, anticipating a lovely night out. But now Oliver was terrified, and his master was simmering in fury in a way that Oliver hadn't seen from him before.

"Not at you, Oliver," he said when pressed. "I'm not angry with you. You followed my instructions; you couldn't have done any better. No, it's my sire I'm furious at."

Oliver nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Is he actually going to drink from me, sir?"

Unsurprisingly, this made Alexander's fury deepen. He took a long time before answering. "My hands are tied. Certain arrangements have to be made."

"What does that mean, sir?"

"...Leave me. I'm in no state to -- we'll discuss it next evening."

And Oliver had no choice but to comply with his master's wishes, as the waves that usually drew him closer to Alexander were now pushing him away. 

Alexander stormed off to his quarters the moment they arrived at home, and Oliver didn't dare follow. Instead, he did his best to comfort himself with a mug of warm milk and a supper of buttered bread. Afterwards, he retired to his own chambers early, curled up in his soft warm bed but unable to rest, flipping listlessly through books, unable to focus on any words and looking only at the illustration plates.

It was as if he could still feel the ancient vampire's unnatural grip on his body. He didn't want that vampire to visit, and despite all of his conditioning, he certainly didn't want him drinking his blood.

His blood was his master's alone -- and that thought certainly was the conditioning, stronger in his mind than any of his own convictions.

It was well past morning when he finally sank into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and waking up halfway from nightmares. By the time he fully awoke, it was already evening again, his room dark and foreboding, reminding him of his fears. Alexander's sire was arriving tomorrow evening. 

He had to talk to his master. He had to know what to do, how to behave, to avoid being harmed. But when Oliver emerged from his room, flickering gas lamp in hand, his master was nowhere to be found. Oliver checked every corner of the library, the music room, the parlor, a dozen disorienting spare rooms filled with more books and storage crates and bits of random furniture. Either Alexander had left the manor or he was still confined to his room. 

Even Oliver's need wasn't enough to overcome his fear of knocking on the door. One of the few rules of the manor was that Alexander's room was off-limits without permission, and the last thing he wanted was for his master to be angry at him when he so desperately needed his protection. All he could really do was wait, and worry, and take a long hot bath in the hopes that it would ease his worries, and inevitably end up worrying in the hot bath.

If only he didn't have to worry about any of this! If only he could simply be Alexander's thrall, spending his days in the library and providing his master with blood. He was meant to be loyal to Alexander, the perfect thrall, wasn't he? When he closed his eyes and imagined, he could almost hear the song calling to him.

His master needed his help, and Oliver wanted so badly to be helpful.

He toweled off from the shower, making sure to apply lotion to his face and neck, just as they'd done in the auction house. Back in his bedroom, he rifled through the wardrobe to look for something suitable, finally settling on a tasteful red frock. After all, if he couldn't solve his master's problems, he could at least try to cheer him up.

Suitably dressed, he had emerged from his bedroom and was gathering up the courage to go knock on Alexander's bedroom door when he heard a commotion in the foyer and rushed to see.

"Ugh, just drag me to the library and leave me to die," said Alexander, precariously wrapped around Miss Lily, who was dragging him into the manor with a long-suffering look on her face.

"I'll take you to the library, but I'm not going to leave you until you've done what you need to do," she said.

"Screw that. Screw all of it. Screw my goddamn sire and his goddamn rules. Sick and tired of him touching my thralls." It was obvious now that his master was drunk, as he grasped onto Miss Lily for dear life. "He was touching Oliver, my Oliver. He's gonna drink from my Oliver. Put his goddamn fangs in my thrall!"

Oliver's heart clenched at the way his master was talking about him. It was strange, to be wanted, to be possessed, but not at all unwelcome. It gave a strange sort of pleasure to Oliver that his master didn't want anyone else to drink from him.

"Welcome home, sir," said Oliver, emerging into the foyer, doing his best to look like a proper thrall. "Is there... um. Is there anything I can help with...?"

"Oh, now, isn't that just precious," Miss Lily cooed, while Alexander looked as though he were about to pass out.

"Look at him, Lily," he said with a tone of pleading. "He's so loyal, so goddamned perfect. I don't want to hurt him. How can I..."

Oliver's eyes widened. "How can you what, sir?"

"Don't you worry about it, dear," Miss Lily cooed at him, and Oliver could feel his mind soften. "Don't you worry about a thing. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the library? Your master will be joining you shortly after I give him a little pep talk."

"Yes, sir," he said. The calm he had managed to carve out for himself had evaporated. What was his master going to do? Was he simply referring to allowing his sire to feed on Oliver? He fussed with his dress -- a garment he still wasn't at all used to -- as he settled onto a couch and waited.

Perhaps ten minutes passed before Miss Lily arrived, carrying an old white tin. She was followed by Alexander, who looked forlorn as he sat down next to Oliver on the couch. Oliver could smell the alcohol on him, and his master wobbled slightly as he regarded Oliver.

"Can't you do it?" he said to Miss Lily in a tone that was nearly a whine.

"You know you have to be the one to do it."

"He won't know."

"He will and you know it."

"I helped you with Miriam."

"And I'll help you with Oliver, but you still need to be the one to do it."

"Do what, sirs?" said Oliver with growing fear. "What are you going to do?"

"You trust your master, don't you?" Miss Lily had settled in on the other side of him, and brushed back his hair to speak in his ear. "You want to be a good and obedient thrall for him, don't you, dear?"

"I trust my master," said Oliver automatically, Miss Lily's voice and her choice of words sinking him into a helpless daze. "I want to be obedient..."

His master leaned over and began to hum in his other ear, a song which washed over his mind and soothed away his fears. "You're my loyal and obedient thrall, aren't you? And you trust me." 

"Yes, Master. Completely loyal and obedient."

"You love being obedient," Miss Lily coaxed. "Obedience is pleasure. You wish to serve."

With Miss Lily's voice and Alexander's song hypnotizing him so thoroughly, he almost felt like he was back in the soft leather chair in the auction house, his sleeping mind open and pliable and oh so very obedient. "I wish to serve," he said. "I -- I just want to help you, Master. I want to be your loyal and obedient thrall."

Alexander's hum was pleased, making Oliver feel so relaxed and so good. "And so you are, Oliver. You're just perfect. I couldn't be more delighted with you."

"Thank you, Master," said Oliver, floating in the bliss of praise.

"You're just so... you're too perfect. That's why I can't bear the thought of my sire drinking from you." His master was leaning his head on Oliver's shoulder.

"I understand, sir. My blood should only be for you."

"Only for me, yes, that's right," said Alexander fiercely. "Only for me."

"But you must obey Alexander's sire as well," said Miss Lily in his other ear. A tone of warning, but Oliver wasn't sure it was for him.

"...Yes," said Alexander after a long hesitation. "You must obey him, and allow him to drink your blood, even if... Just for now, Oliver, just for now. You can do that for me, can't you? You can obey him, because you are loyal to me."

"Yes, sir, I can obey."

"Obedience is pleasure," whispered Miss Lily. "You only desire to serve."

"I only desire to serve, sir."

"Lex, you need to --"

"I know," said Alexander, and his song changed subtly. Instead of inducing obedience, Oliver felt his mind being shifted, further entranced, his thoughts becoming foggy and far away. It was like falling asleep with his eyes wide open. "You're safe, Oliver. You're safe with me."

"Safe... Master..." he slurred, his head growing heavy and coming to rest on his master's shoulder. 

Alexander was rubbing his back gently. "I need to do something now. It's important, and unavoidable. You are going to lose awareness as it happens, and when you wake, you will feel no pain."

"What..." He wanted to ask, but his mind was slipping under the waves of his master's song, the song that was now urging him into sleep.

"Shut your eyes, Oliver," said Miss Lily. "Become unaware of everything around you except for our voices. You won't feel a thing."

"Nothing but our voices and a deep, dreamless sleep," said Alexander. "Rest, now, Oliver. You're so obedient, so loyal, so good. You can rest. You can be still, so very still, as you sink into a place where you will feel no pain."

Oliver's vision blurred as his eyes began to close, leaning back against the couch as his master ran his hand through his hair. He was surrounded by song - obey, relax, go to sleep, feel no pain - and everything else was fading away until he was floating, floating in the deepest abyss of the ocean, where there was nothing but darkness and the rush of cool water and his Master's beautiful siren song.

He could obey. He could give himself over to his Master, body, mind, and soul. It was the easiest thing in the world.

Oliver wasn't sure how long he floated there in contented bliss. Time had lost all meaning, all of his senses dulled and drowsy. Finally, as if a hand was reaching down from the surface of the water, his Master spoke once more. "You can wake now, Oliver. You'll feel no pain and no distress as you wake."

His eyes opened, and he was back in the library, still feeling strangely disconnected from his body. His Master looked grim, but surely it wasn't because of him. He was a good thrall, and he had obeyed. 

His shoulders felt cool, and it took him a moment to realize that his dress was gone, neatly folded up and sitting on a nearby table. His chest was bared, and there was a bandage just below his collarbone. His head fogged again, and he felt numb, almost as if he weren't allowed to perceive all of this.

"Don't worry about that, Oliver," said Alexander, grasping his chin and drawing his gaze up. "You were just perfect."

"Thank you, sir." 

Alexander collapsed onto the couch beside him, as though he'd been through some great ordeal. "There, Lily, it's done. Now can you leave me to die a second time?"

Oliver couldn't help but reach out to him. "Sir, if there's anything I can do... any way I can serve you..."

"You've done everything you were supposed to do," said Miss Lily. "And no one's leaving you to die, Lex. You need to sleep it off. Oliver, you can put him to bed, can't you, dear?"

"Put him to bed, sir?"

"Yes, as you do each night, no doubt."

Oliver looked at Miss Lily, alarmed. "I'm -- I'm not allowed in the bedroom without permission, sir --"

Miss Lily raised an eyebrow. "Really, Lex?"

"I don't need a thrall warming my bed. Hot water bottles and steam heat suffice," said Alexander with a groan. "And I didn't want to get attached."

"...And how is that working out for you?"

Alexander groaned again. "My head is killing me, Lil, spare me the lecture."

"You're hopeless, you know that?" said Miss Lily. "Come on, Oliver. I'll hoist him up and you accompany me. Your master needs your help."

"Of course, sir, right away."

Miss Lily picked up Alexander as though it were nothing, carrying him up the stairs and into the bedroom with Oliver following at her heels. She expertly navigated the cluttered floor in the dark, freezing cold room even as Oliver tripped over discarded laundry. She pulled his shoes off and tossed them aside, pushing Alexander onto the bed and draping the messy covers over him, as he curled up like a sleeping child.

"Go on now, Oliver."

"Me, sir? What should I do?"

"Vampires are cold all the time, in case you haven't noticed. He needs to sleep, and your warmth will help him rest."

Oliver's throat tightened with the thought of crawling into his master's bed, and he couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation. He looked to Alexander for confirmation of what Miss Lily had said. "Sir... you want me to..."

"God damn it, Lily," he swore. "Just for tonight, yes." A low hum emanated from the mound at the center of the bed, one which drew Oliver near. He felt himself stepping forward, climbing onto the bed, and in a flash, he was sucked under the covers and surrounded by the strong arms of a cold vampire. "You're so warm. It's been ages since I've had a thrall in my bed." He yawned into Oliver's ear as his arms tightened.

"I knew that'd help," said Lily smugly. "Well, I'll be taking my leave. Good luck with our sire." She walked out, shutting the door.

Oliver, meanwhile, stared out into the gloom, his heart thumping. The bed was soft and smelled of floral soap and winter winds, and his master was gripping him so tightly it was almost uncomfortable. "Will this help you sleep, sir?"

"Hmph?"

"Um, will this help you sleep, sir?"

His deep voice was groggy, sounding half-asleep already. "'m never warm. Hard to stay awake when it's so warm." He sighed. "You're a good thrall. I hope you know that."

"Thank you, sir," he said, feeling warm himself from the praise.

"Almost the best thrall."

"...Almost, sir?"

"You should go to sleep, too."

"I can try, sir."

His master's voice hummed a sweet lullaby into his ear, and Oliver was immediately hypnotized once more. The fact that his master sounded so drowsy as he sang only made Oliver succumb to its spell faster. He was so tired, so sleepy, and his master was pleased with him too, inviting him to rest...

He was helping his master, finally. It was so nice to be here.

"You're mine, Oliver," said the voice in his ear. "My thrall, my perfect thrall."

"Yours, sir," Oliver agreed as he drifted off.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Next time, Alexander takes matters into his own hands.

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[bunji-enthusiast]

Lancelot with a vampire gf who has the same personality as Toga Himiko in a way? Or js like has a big obsession with blood?

Very interesting to think about to be honest, anyway I think Toga is pretty neat for a character ^^

Lancelot's had his fair share of dealing with all sorts of people from different races who certainly have a uniqueness to them, so in knowing that you are a vampire doesn't surprise him in the least when you revealed that fact to him, he's actually very understanding of it and is willing to help with your bloody tendencies.

Though he does have some genuine curiosities; like does it affect your diet, how much blood do you need daily, and what kind of blood do you need? He doesn't know how to approach you with these questions, so Lancelot just sort of waits until the timing is perfect to actually get his questions answered.

He finally had caught up with you in the markets, pacing up to walk alongside you. Though the sunshine doesn’t affect you much, you much preferred to be out and about when the temperature is much cooler. 

Lancelot side-eyed the stands and the jewelry sellers, smelling all sorts of things. The most prominent ones seemed to be the food stands, as you can’t be moving around without some food in your stomach of course. 

“So,” He began, making you turn your attention to him. “How does your thing, blood and all, work?” Lancelot asked, making you smile at his attempt of understanding. 

Thoughtfully, you didn’t completely understand it yourself, but you thought he’d deserved some information anyhow. “It’s kind of like a nutritious thing for me, like I need to consume blood from time to time to survive.” You answered, your hands moving in a multitude of animated gestures, as if you really were talking through your hands. You paused for a moment to think further, then added, “I like how it tastes too, but I do need it in order to strengthen the force of my abilities.”

Lancelot blinked somewhat in surprise, then nodded thoughtfully. Shoving his hands in pockets, he then turned his eyes ahead, “Does the blood thing extend to any living being then?”

“Yep!” You replied, “I can also shapeshift into anyone so long as I have their blood to consume, only for a minute or more though if I don’t have enough.” You added, tilting your head with a sigh how weak your abilities sounded. Lancelot only smiled with pride at the thought. 

‘Shape-shifting huh? She can shape-shift like me.’ He thought to himself.

Sometimes you do catch him off guard with the way you behave at times, but he very much quickly adjusts to your personality in due time. As much as he was put off by your personality at first, Lancelot knows that people can't adjust the way they behave very much, and has learned to love the more chaotic aspects of you. It eventually becomes endearing to him even if people from the outside perspective of your relationship find it odd.

However the more he learned about you and your views on love and friendship, Lancelot became concerned very quickly. Yet it was in knowing you that he learned and grew to become more perceptive on the behaviors of others, so he had greatly appreciated the improvement so that in turn he could better help you.

Even if you originally had very twisted views about love at the beginning of your relationship with Lancelot, you genuinely wanted to know him better as a friend and girlfriend. So what if your tendencies may seem a little weird? It's only normal!

Throughout your childhood, you've had been treated very badly and had been repeatedly called a monster. An outcast to most, so it came as a surprise when you had began getting treated normally by others when you went away from your childhood home.

Perks of being a vampire can be part of your element of surprise, additionally fueled by strong blood you can re-attach your limbs or even your head if they get severed. Lancelot just smirks while others watch on in surprise at the revelation of your ability in combat, he gets really giddy (on the inside) when you show off how cool you can be.

Though you are particularly prone to mood swings, you can still very much hold your own. Lancelot does get a bit worried about you for this very reason when you get thrown off and may get injured by surprise, you just somehow have this boy very worried quite at lot at times. You try to ease his anxieties by showing that you are okay, he still doesn't stop worrying though even if they are eased.

Even despite your manical nature, you have shown a very compassionate side, caring about Lancelot and by extension his friends. You genuinely may or may not have gotten attached to him and them as well, going so far as to be enraged if they get majorly injured.

Because of Lancelot, you've become very comfortable and more secure in showing off your actual personality. As you had so far been behaving what others deemed normal, with Lancelot's help you've gotten out of your shell easier.

“Just take it easy on her.” Lancelot asked, nodding his head at you. Percival just nodded agreeably, he was always ready to make new friends regardless of who they were or what they looked like. Donny, Anne, and Nasiens just mumbled incoherent murmurs of agreement. 

To the group, you had some unsettling vibes about you. Unsure of approaching you, because of the way you walked and talked. You only just smiled and waved, blushing in excitement. 

They were somewhat hesitant to approach you, which made Lancelot frown. Yet it was wiped away very easily the moment that Percival walked right towards you, he knew that he could count on the green-haired kid to make things easier. 

Nasiens choked out a noise of surprise as Percival walked up to you, holding out his hand to shake, “Hey i’m Percival! You’re Lancelot’s girlfriend right?” He asked excitedly – which somehow made the air of unease much lighter. You nodded with a wide smile, interlocking your hand with his and shaking it. You then introduced yourself by name, causing him to smile in return. 

“Hehe, nice to meet you.” Percival replied, then Donny approached you next. Then came Nasiens and Anne, which made you very happy to be getting to know them all, you weren’t completely lonely only at Lance’s side. You honestly thought it was nice to genuinely interact with them, you could sense how kind and pure-hearted they were, which you did tease Lancelot for. 

“You got some nice friends.” You smiled, fangs shining in the sun. Lancelot grimaced, somewhat blushing a bit as he tore his eyes away from you. 

“They aren’t… my friends.”

“Sure,” You raised your bows inquisitively, opting for a side hug as you let out a content sigh. “Thanks for introducing me to them!”

Lancelot loosened up, resting his head on yours with an agreeable hum. 

Of course.

In contrast of your psychotic (which had been dumbed down and more reigned in) personality and violent habits, you do indeed possess standards. Having displayed it many times in worry for Lancelot's wellbeing, and for the wellbeing of others such as; Percival, Donny, Nasiens, Anghalhad, and Gawain.

If you ever do think self-deprecating thoughts about yourself, he affirms it with positive thoughts very quickly. Cause why would you be thinking badly about yourself? Lancelot knows somewhat about your childhood past, which had affected your thinking greatly, it had genuinely brought a pit of sadness in his heart he didn't even realize.

Lancelot is very impressed when you show an improvement of your capabilities in combat, and asks if you ever do want to train together to improve even further.

[yandere-daydreams]

For context, imma give you a little Spider-Man 2099 fact from the Spider-Man comics if you didn’t know about it already.

Before becoming Spider-Man, Miguel was injected by this drug called Rapture, a super addictive drug with really bad withdrawal symptoms, like you will feel like dying without taking it constantly symptoms. He was the top geneticist for Alchemax and he wanted to quit but the cooperation wouldn’t allow that, so they injected him so that he would have no choice but to be reliant on them and continue to work for them since they were the only ones that were distributing rapture. (It was actually due to him getting his spider abilities that he was cure; he had his DNA rewritten with spider DNA so he’s technically genetically half spider).

So basically Miguel injects you with rapture. So predictably you become more and more difficult, as he puts it. One day he offhandedly shows you a little vial in his lab that was used to turn him into Spider-Man, he drops little hints here and there that it’s what cured him of rapture. So it’s no surprise to him that you start acting so docile and pleasant soon after, your attempt to lower his guard are welcomed when he gets to cuddle you. So he lets you sneak into his lab when you think he’s away on a mission. It’s when you take the vail and inject yourself do your hopes for freedom start to dwindle when you feel a broad chest on your back and a pair of fans in you neck the next second. While the contents in the vail cured you of rapture, he also made it so that it acts as an aphrodisiac when it’s mixed with DNA; (injections of any sort are the fastest way to get anything going through your system, so the Miguel-activated-aphrodisiac binds with your cells really fast when you first inject it into your system), so whenever he bites you, your cells react almost immediately to his DNA and it turns into any season is mating season, Aka Miguel never beating the vampire allegations.

Ah sorry for the messy writing, English isn’t really my strong suite but you get the picture.

tw - dub//con, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, manipulation through drug addiction.

oof,,, miguel knows first-hand how devastating rapture can be, so i'd like to think that he injected you with it in a moment of desperation, just thinking about the high and the wanting and how badly he needs you to give into him, even if he knows you'll be twice as difficult once the withdrawal hits. his plan to splice your dna, to cure you the only way he knows someone can be cured of a rapture addiction is an act of mercy in his mind, too. he can't keep you high and strung out forever, so he lets you believe there's an antidote, lets you think that he doesn't suspect anything when you suddenly start behaving and treating him like the hero he wants to be, rather than the captor he is, lets you sneak out of his bedroom in the middle of the night and into his lab, where his 'rapture cure' was conveniently left in plain-sight beside a syringe gun already prepared for injection. he lets you think that your alright, now, that you've escaped the worst thing he's ever done.

and then, he drives his fangs into your neck, holding you close as you go through the motions, as you realize that your body's reaction to him isn't something you can drown out with terror and loathing and fear, anymore. you haven't been cured, he just replaced one addiction with another and now, you're as reliant on him as he is on you. it's not love, but it feels close enough as you claw at his chest and pant against his neck, as you promise to behave and to follow his rules and to do whatever he wants, as long as he takes care of you. as you promise to love him, as long as he takes care of you.

[monstersinthecosmos]

buncha discourse a year or so back about how Marius and Daniel are both complete people without Armand (agreed) and that acknowledging the way Armand sort of haunts their relationship means we're taking agency away from Daniel as a whole person (vehemently disagree) and basically I just think, it's very short sighted to look at a relationship like Marius & Daniel's and NOT acknowledge the empty space of Armand between them.

Of course!!!!! We must acknowledge that fanworks and fandom are about transformative work and someone can easily devote time & energy to writing fics where Armand is never acknowledged once if that's what they want, but it's not what I want! It's not how I prefer to approach them!

I think there's something very salient about Armand's absence between them! I want us to spend time with it! I want to ask, when Daniel is at his worst, how much of this is Armand's fault? And I want to ask, when Marius nurses him through it, how much guilt does he feel? How might he look at Armand's behavior as a maker and wonder if he fucked up, if he did wrong by Armand by not being a better maker himself, if this could've been avoided?

It's such incredible source of trauma to look at--for Marius, I think it's a matter of "He behaves this way because I couldn't keep him safe, and I didn't rescue him, and I didn't rescue him because I couldn't reconcile how betrayed and triggered I felt by his cult, and if I had taken care of Santino and taken the cult seriously all along, this could have been avoided."

And for Daniel, we have to remember it's not JUST that he had a bad turning, that he's sensory-overloaded and bad at vampiring, but this is the nastiest breakup of his life! Especially considering that like, it's so much beyond being a marriage of sorts--TILL DEATH DO US PART except they'll never die. It must have hurt him so badly. And like, he was 20 when his life effectively ended, so it's entirely possible that this is his ONLY real bad breakup, and this was his only like actual adult relationship.

But even for him, I love thinking about how badly Armand hurt him, but as he gets to know Marius and understand the situation better, and understand Why Armand is Like That, there's such a potent space for forgiveness and empathy.

I like thinking about Daniel coming out of it slowly and allowing Marius to see his real personality, and all the space where they get to know each other and care for each other. It's not unlike the Devil's Minion--growing something where there was something else. With Armand it was fear and revulsion that become familiar and passionate. With Marius it starts with caretaking and confusion, and as he gets ahold of himself and things come into focus they can get to know each other as people.

idk I just really love this triangle in VC and the dynamics are really fascinating to me, and I'm happy that I've been poking at it and dissecting it for Vamptember, and I hope my haters of the past who told me I was stupid for approaching this way know that they can simply keep scrolling and write their own fics if they don't like it! :)

[saintmachina]

AN EDUCATION IN MALICE, my queer dark academia Carmilla retelling, has a cover! Preorder your copy for: 

toxic poetry cohorts

horny religious imagery

plus size heroine

subby bisexual girl X domme lesbian

professors behaving badly

vampire house party exhibitionism

romantic necromancy

BARNES AND NOBLE AMAZON WATERSTONES

[igotsnothing]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire

Thank you for tagging me, @lynzishell! You are the best and I enjoyed reading about Atlas and Asher so much- their warmth and affection were so evident throughout the entire questionnaire! ❤️

For this I chose Sasha and Gideon. If anyone is interested in a different pair, I'd be glad to do it again!

Gideon: Oh, we’ve been invited to do a Deep Dive Questionnaire!

Sasha: No. It’s absurd.

Gideon: We were tagged by Asher and Atlas, though. They’re so nice!

Sasha:  Buuh…Fine.

-What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Gideon: Are you scared of anything, Sasha? You have to be one of the most fearless people I know. Who walks into a vampire coven meeting like you did? You are something else.

Sasha: When I was little, my mom took me to a petting zoo and bought me feeding pellets to give to the geese; they all kept crowding me and chasing me around this pond and I thought I was going to die.

Gideon: What did you do?

Sasha: I threw all the pellets at them and jumped into the pond.

Gideon: That’s actually very scary for a young child! Did your mother have to jump in after you?

Sasha: Nooo. The pond was pretty shallow.

Gideon...How old were you?

Sasha: Like 10.

Gideon: PFFFF!

Sasha: Shut up.

Gideon: You’re so dramatic.

Sasha: What about you?

Gideon: I fear... not ever having you by my side.

Sasha: [Turning red and burying his face in Gideon’s chest]

Do they have any pet peeves?

Gideon: Hmm...Probably people who are rude, especially in public. It’s not that hard to hold the door for people or say excuse me, or turn your blinker on before making a turn.

Sasha: OMG, when people sit down at a table and keep talking to each other and when I come over to take their order, they’re like, “Oh, I didn’t get a chance to look at the menu yet.” I’m like- there are FOUR things on the menu. Just order or I will choose your food for you!

Gideon: You also dislike bad tippers.

Sasha: If I get another religious tract as a tip, someone is going to be meeting their lord sooner than they expected.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Sasha: We bought a bunch of stuff recently! We got a sofa bed and a fridge... What's one more thing?

Gideon: What about Mrs. Kachky?

Sasha: She goes where I go. She’s the only thing I have left of my mom’s.

Gideon: I'm feeling a little jealous. I think she gets more cuddles than I do...

Sasha: Awww! I’ll let you cuddle her too.

Gideon: [Inhaling deeply] I’m throwing you back into that pond.

What do they notice first in a person?

Gideon: Appearances can be deceiving. I’m more interested in seeing how people treat those they perceive as being beneath them. People often behave badly when they have any kind of power.

Sasha: I was raised in the Spice District! You think we make eye contact with people while walking around here? You keep walking- mind your business.

Gideon: Let’s combine the next two questions because I think they’re related.

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?  And -do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Gideon: I was a soldier when I was mortal and as a vampire, I’ve endured my share of attempts on my unlife: I’ve been stabbed, beaten, and I’ve escaped more than one attempt to burn me into ashes. I assess a situation before fighting. I won’t necessarily run if the odds are stacked heavily against me, but I may try to explore an alternative. I’d say I have a high tolerance. A 9.

Sasha: Me too.

Gideon: [Squinting and shaking his head]

Sasha: Okay, but in my defense that comb snagged my hair really hard- I didn’t expect that. Let’s say a 7.

Gideon: Or a 4... It’s ironic, because you won’t run from a fight. Even if you know you’ll get beaten up. It’s very paradoxical.

Sasha: In Sparta, we die like men!

Gideon: [Rolls his eyes].

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Gideon: My coven is my family, and it is a fairly large one. I think I’ve been somewhat absent and disconnected from them for a while now. I do miss that closeness we shared over the decades.

Sasha: Nope. It was my mom and my dad and me. After she died, I was pretty much on my own. My dad and I haven't spoken in years.

[Gideon reaches for his hand and clasps it tightly.]

Gideon: I'm always here for you, Sasha. You're not alone.

What animal represents them best?

Gideon: [Laughs]

Sasha: PASS!

What is a smell that they dislike?

Sasha: Depending on where you are walking in this city, every once in a while you’ll catch a whiff of weed that’s just skunky-ass bad. Or pee. Or trash water on the sidewalk.

Gideon: Garlic.

Have they broken any bones? if so, how?

Gideon: Oof...I’ve broken a few. I used to ride horses when I was a soldier and had my share of bad falls.

Sasha: I broke my arm falling off a jungle gym. I was in first or second grade. It wasn’t too bad. All my friends drew on my cast and then my arm was super stinky when the cast came off.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Sasha: Gideon? Sophisticated. And...Suede.

Gideon: Suede?

Sasha: Yeah! You know, someone like super confident and elegant...

Gideon: Did you mean...suave?

Sasha: ...Wut?

Gideon: [Quickly] Sasha is completely and devastatingly adorable and endearing.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Gideon: I don’t need much sleep, but I find myself keeping hours similar to Sasha’s now.

Sasha: I stay up late when I work at the diner.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Sasha: This man loves the flavor of his fancy-pants whiskey.

Gideon: You forgot my favorite one: you.

Sasha: Stop it...And you hated Twizzlers.

Gideon: Why someone would eat a rope of twisted wax is beyond me. You hate fine whiskey- I'll never forget “liquid leather”. But you love junk food, which baffles me. Have some Styrofoam instead- at least it doesn't pretend to be real food.

Sasha: Heh! I got you some Tootsie Rolls and Necco candy... Can't wait to see you try those...

Do they have any hobbies?

Gideon: I love the arts. I frequented the theatre, museums, and concert halls often. I'd love to take Sasha with me sometime.

Sasha: I like walking around the city. There is always something interesting or new to see. Oh, and piling stuff into the hall closet so the contents fall down on Dima when he opens it. He falls for it. Every. Time.

Boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

Sasha and Gideon look at each other: No.

Sasha: Let’s say what we hate about surprise parties at the count of three. Ready? 1...2...3!

Gideon: Surprises.

Sasha: People.

Do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

Gideon: I don’t really wear anything except for my Rolex Daytona.

Sasha: F*ck. How am I supposed to follow that? A few pizza-shaped earrings from Claire’s? They were super cute, though. Oh, and a friendship bracelet Tito made me a couple years ago. It broke off but I still have it somewhere.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Sasha: Have you seen his writing? It’s like he signed the Declaration of Independence. Mine is barely legible.  

What are two emotions they feel the most?

Gideon: I sense many of Sasha’s emotions, but I don’t want to put him on the spot.

Sasha: I do feel anxious and upset a lot.

Gideon: My emotions would be frustration and...Hmm...

Sasha: Horniness.

Gideon [Stares in mock surprise as Sasha snickers]

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Gideon: I like linen. It has an elegant simplicity that is timeless.

Sasha: I like flannel.

Gideon: [Playfully] Not suede?

Sasha: Oh, haha, you dick.

What kind of accent do they have?

Sasha: Do I even have an accent?

Gideon: You sound like you’re from San Myshuno. No doubt. What about me?

Sasha: You do have a pretty neutral accent, but every once in a while you’ll sound like you’re from Henford-on-Bagley.

Gideon: Well, it was more likely to hear Simlish from Henford since it is closer to where I hail from.

Sasha, imitating Gideon very hammily: Say, old chap, do you fancy a tipple of liquid leather with some freshly harvested Cheetos? No, wait- Cheeee-tooows!

[Laughing]

Sasha: Heh! I guess that wasn't so bad, after all...

I'm tagging the following storytellers who are wonderful: @agena87, @aurorangen, @eljeebee, @miss-may-i, @aheathen-conceivably, and if anyone else wants to play, please do so. And because I believe in miracles: @damseljamselI and @greighish. @lynzishell, if you wanted to do this for Phoenix and Dawn...here is your chance! I'd totally read it up! I'd tag more folks but I'm feeling a bit off these days and (irrationally- I hope) worried about bothering people. In that vein- this is totally optional! (butifyoudoitiwannareaditall!)

[gunraekae]

Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation

Newton by William Blake

>ikemen vampire

>isaac newton x thicc reader

>a/n: suggestive short based on this meme I saw on ig. minors dni or I'll tell your mom!!

Isaac likes them thicc

 Isaac Newton’s most well-known law of gravity: the greater the mass, the greater the force of attraction. It was about gravity but with the way Isaac’s eyes raked over your body, you could apply it to your situation now. 

“Isaac, is something the matter?” The timid scientist’s eyes snapped up to yours, its sinful trip down your soaked body interrupted. The both of you had fallen into the fountain earlier, and to your delight, you believed that Isaac had finally stepped out of his shell and grew comfortable with you. With some laughter at your rotten luck and an irritated carriage driver later, the two of you sat inside the bumbling vehicle back to the mansion. Isaac gave you his coat to cover up, but you caught his lingering gaze on your body. Your own face wasn’t spared from warmth with the knowledge that your loose clothes now stuck tight, your every roll accentuated and presented to the world. Or at the moment, to your dear Isaac. He’s probably shocked at how big I am. He’s used to petite French girls with tiny waists, or delicate English ladies. He probably thinks I look so dis—

“Forgive me, MC! I was just—oh dear—this is most improper of me—” Isaac stumbled over his words, his face hot with shame and his eyes dark with an emotion you can’t quite place. He would avert his eyes around the carriage but an unexplainable urge kept pulling his eyes back to your body. It was such enigmatic behaviour, but if you could describe it he looked almost… hungry. 

“It’s alright. I apologize for looking so… uncouth. It’s not a pretty sight.” You hugged Isaac’s coat tighter, praying you could take up less space. Not only did you embarrass yourself in front of your favourite resident, his poor eyes had to witness such a horrid sight. Isaac’s face melted from its shameful expression into one of confusion. The problem he was facing certainly had to do with your appearance; not with its unattractiveness—the very opposite, in fact. Isaac, as a true gentleman, couldn’t very well tell you of the depraved thoughts circling his mind…burning through his veins…and alighting his manhood. You were too precious for him to outright confess his yearning for your body; you were too important and he cared for you beyond the sinful attraction he harboured at the moment. He vowed he would never act like Arthur, rakish, immoral, and unable to resist pleasure. With how desperately Isaac wished to worship every curve under that soaked shirt, he’s reminded again of how badly he desired you. Those damn buttons. He could almost picture how he would claw at each one… or would he gently undo them to tease you? No, he knew that if you allowed him, all sense of composure would leave his mind. He was far more likely to just rip that godforsaken shirt apart to expose your beautiful breasts. The thought was far too enticing: your pretty little face tinged with shyness but your eyes with a touch of eagerness. His greedy hands wouldn’t hesitate, relishing in the softness of your breasts while he trailed his sharp teeth down to your nipples—

You cleared your throat. Isaac had been staring at you again, his eyes even darker with that same hunger as before. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. In a battle for self-restraint, he tilted his head, licking his dry lips. It wouldn’t be safe for him to lose control. His aberration would fuel that desperate urge for you even more than it had before. The sight of Isaac’s irritation was far too attractive. His sharp jawline was clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbed as his fingers loosened his tie with surprising strength. His now-behaved gaze lay on your feet. He looks so uncomfortable… While wishing for the carriage driver to make haste, Isaac finally cast his eyes to yours, tinged with barely contained self-restraint. 

“It’s nothing that you’re doing, MC… I’m afraid I just—“ his breath shifted as he allowed his gaze to fall to your chest again, “can’t hold myself back anymore.” 

A bump on the road violently rocked the carriage but Isaac’s strong hands steadied your hips down on your seat. His warm body, now far closer than before, inched even more. Isaac dared to inch his face closer to where the sweet scent of your body was the strongest. In a way, burying his face in your neck would prevent you from witnessing his unravelling restraint, but selfishly, Isaac was just tempted to sink his teeth into your soft skin. His voice was right next to your ear. “You look far too delectable right now.” Isaac’s words only made your blood course faster through your body. It was too hot with Isaac right there. What’s gotten into him? He must be feeling sick because why else would he be saying all this? 

“Où est-ce que je tourne?” The carriage driver yelled out. 

Isaac’s breath warmed your ear. “Tournez à droite au coin, s'il vous plaît,” he replied, not taking his eyes away from yours. Knowing you were almost at the mansion brought both relief and disappointment. Seeing Isaac’s normally stiff composure fall apart because he saw a glimpse of your body was… riveting, to say the least. When else would you get to see his handsome face all warm and needy? For someone like you, who normally never caught the attention of others being worshipped with a single gaze… could you really blame yourself for wanting to revel in the pleasure a bit longer? 

Whatever sinful spell Isaac was under faded the closer the carriage was to the mansion. Isaac, with newfound boldness, kissed your neck once… twice… and when the carriage driver announced the arrival, he left one last lingering kiss on your collarbone. When the doors opened, he helped you down like a proper gentleman. As he held your hand, he squeezed your fingers longingly before leaving to pay the driver.

[cookinguptales]

Y'know, I post a lot on tumblr about what a shit Guillermo is, and I stand by that. He is a marvelous little shit. But honestly I only talk about it so much because people on tumblr and AO3 send me so many messages about how he's never done anything wrong in his life. When I'm presented with the opposite, that Guillermo is uniquely awful and selfish and he victimizes the poor uwu vampires (thinkpieces that you saw a lot more often during s3) I am fully like "I STAND BY EVERY DECISION THAT FOOLISH MAN HAS EVER MADE."

Being real with you, I feel like talking about Guillermo like he's totally blameless and put-upon or like he's totally selfish and wholly evil flattens a really complex and interesting character. He's selfish and self-involved and cruel and sweet and insecure and giving. He's all those things, and I love that about him.

I love Guillermo as a character because he has these carefully constructed categories in his head, these rules and boundaries that he sticks to like glue. He contains multitudes, and it's because he carefully follows the rules he has in his own head, even when they don't make a lot of sense to others.

I think the best way to think about Guillermo's actions is to think about him having two very different sets of rules for in-groups and out-groups. He will bend over backward for people in his in-group, will be the kindest, most patient, sweetest man in the world -- but he can be downright vicious to people in the out-group.

This is a pretty common occurrence IRL, though not always to the degree that Guillermo does it... I mean, you're going to treat your best friend's birthday differently than you're gonna treat a stranger's, right? When you start seeing it happen the way Guillermo does it, though, it's often to create and preserve power. You see it in politics, high school cliques, religion, etc.

For example, let's take new religious movements (or NRMs, i.e. "cults".) They are famous for this behavior. When you create distinct in-groups and out-groups and can behave very differently towards both, you give your followers a strong incentive to stay in the in-group. It makes them feel like they're the "good" ones, the superior ones, the ones with power. The ones that belong. And when they see out-groups being mistreated, well. No one wants to be in the group with no power who's mistreated, y'know? It simultaneously gives people in the in-group a sense of community, belonging, and social superiority and makes them afraid to leave.

But really, you see it all the time. If you have a "good" group that you can never harm and a "bad" group that you can do anything to, that really helps prop up power structures in a lot of ways. Look, I'm not going to get into this too much more because you don't want a freaking academic lecture on your dash, but suffice it to say that I think Guillermo is largely using his in-groups and out-groups in this way, mentally speaking.

He has in-groups (his friends, his family, his boyfriend, the vampires he lives with) and out-groups (literally everyone else, including other vampires) and he badly mistreats the out-groups because he does not want to be one of them. I've noticed he's particularly awful to human prey that reminds him of himself (nerdy, socially awkward, powerless, virginal) and I think that's because he wants to distance himself from them. He wants to make sure no one mistakes him as being part of that group, so he very strongly pushes them into his out-group by not only killing them, but making fun of them and often making sure they suffer before they die.

And then he's even more slavishly devoted to his in-groups, partially because he does truly love them, but partially because he desperately wants to stay in those groups. Or because he's trying to protect his own hide.

I don't mean to say that every kind thing he does is calculated -- I do think he very genuinely wants to make the people he loves happy -- but there's a sort of desperation to it sometimes. When he does these kind things, sometimes it's this desperate bid to be valued and accepted by others in his in-group, which makes him feel like he's earned his place there.

I've noticed that Guillermo has a tendency to do things for people to stay in their good graces (buying his mom a fridge, doing chores for Nandor, giving Derek money) when what they actually want is his time and attention. There often is a vibe that he's trying to earn his way into a group he doesn't quite feel entitled to when actually he's already very much a part of the group and he just needs to maintain those relationships. It's insecurity, frankly, and a nervous sort of self-preservation.

In fact... I'd say that Guillermo's greatest emotional struggles often come when trying to reconcile (and protect) different members of his in-group because he's trying to reconcile (and protect!!!) the different parts of himself.

Like... when he protected Jeremy, he was protecting a friend, but also the idea that some weak, virginal nerds are not prey. He had to protect this member of his in-group, partially because he loved him, but partially because he had to protect himself by extension. If Jeremy could be an exception to the predator-prey dynamics, so could he. Some humans could be valuable.

When he protected his fellow familiars during the familiar fights, he was protecting fellow humans whom he thought had "earned" a better life (and death) than prey humans, but he was also protecting the idea that a familiar could be loved and valued. He was protecting himself and the hope that Nandor would love him.

When he protected his family, he was protecting his beloved family members, but also the idea that vampires and slayers could coexist. Of course he doesn't want his family to die, but he's also doesn't want his hopes that he can have it all to die with them.

Let's all be real with each other here. Guillermo kills humans, and he does so without compunction. He is able to utterly dehumanize prey humans because he has a vested interest in emotionally distancing himself from them. But he gets kind of freaked out when the humans that he has mentally removed from that prey group (his friends, his family, people "like him") are not placed into that same exempt group by others. And this is definitely because he wants to protect those he loves!

But it's also because it means that he isn't special, either.

Let's talk about Freddie, who I think is probably the most complicated example of all this in the entire show. (Save perhaps Derek, who could probably get an entire post to himself because he went from out-group to in-group without Guillermo's consent.) When Freddie first arrived at the house, Nandor mistook him for prey. This understandably freaked Guillermo out, partially because he wanted to protect his boyfriend and partially because it was violating Guillermo's group dynamics.

(Insert meta here about Freddie representing Guillermo's ability to have a happy life outside of the weird, insular one he'd created for himself prior to s4.)

Freddie ended up being kind of special, though, because Guillermo considered him to be part of his in-group and Nandor considered him an out-group until he realized that Guillermo valued him. And then Nandor wanted him to not just be part of his in-group, but a portion of it separate from (but simultaneously representing) Guillermo. It's complicated!!

So we had Freddie 1 who was Guillermo's and Freddie 2 who was Nandor's, but... in the end, Freddie really belonged to no one but himself, right? In the end, he very literally chose himself. He left the -group dynamic altogether.

So Freddie is moving in and out of these groups like a fuckin' oiled-up eel that Guillermo cannot keep a hold of, and that really challenges his control issues as well as his ability to feel like he belongs in the in-groups he's created. It challenges his ability to feel worthy and loved and like he belongs anywhere. It challenges his ability to have faith that he'll ever become a vampire. Suddenly he does not control these groups anymore. If anything, they're controlling him.

While a lot of Guillermo's angst at the end of s4 was about, y'know, normal heartbreak... I think a lot of that was happening, too. He was really seeing the abrupt overturning of the carefully established rules and groups and boundaries and power differentials in his head, and that made him just want to be free of the whole thing.

So he took a step out of all of his preconceptions about what he did and did not have to do to belong in these groups, and took hold of his own destiny.

...unfortunately.

Guillermo's decisions in s4, both regarding his family and his turning, really did permanently shake up a lot of the group dynamics in the show. For better? For worse? (FOR GOOD...? lmao) It's hard to say, honestly. But I'm eager to see how he irons it all out in his head!

Our able-to-self-justify-literally-anything bitch. 💜

[fragmentedink]

Slavic Mythological Creatures:

[this is a very narrow and broad post. pls do further research!]

Alkonost:

The name of the Alkonost came from a Greek demigoddess whose name was Alcyone. In Greek mythology, Alcyone was transformed by the gods into a kingfisher (Halcyon). The Alkonost is often referred to as the bird of paradise, which is very fitting because they typically have bright feathers. In fact, the older an alkonost is, the brighter her plumage will be. Pagans believed she was a wind spirit capable of bringing on storms. Christians believed she was God’s personal messenger.

Her voice is supposed to be so beautiful that she can make you forget anything that hurts you. She is said to sing about the beauties of paradise for the saints so that they don’t give in to despair and temptation. Other stories claim that wars have actually ended due to her voice.

Mare:

a malicious entity in Germanic and Slavic folklore that walks on people's chests while they sleep, bringing on nightmares

Sirin:

While the Alkonost is known for her ability to bring joy with her voice, the Sirin’s voice has the opposite effect. When she sings, evildoers experience pain and sorrow. She is a harbinger of death. Hearing her song often means that someone has died or that you are approaching your own end.

Birds with black feathers are often attributed as being conduits between this world and the other side, bringing messages from the dead. It is no surprise then that the Sirin has dark plumage like a raven or a crow. Given that she is just the Alkonist’s alter ego, it could be argued that it is her divine duty to punish the wicked and usher the dead to their afterlife. She is, after all, still a guardian of good fortune.

Babay:

Babay is rarely described, so that children can imagine him in the form most terrible for them. According to beliefs, he abducts children who do not sleep at night or behave badly

Raróg:

a fire demon, often depicted as a fiery falcon. According to Czech folklore, a raroh can hatch from an egg that was incubated on a stove for nine days and nights, and can appear either as a fiery falcon or a dragon. In Polish folklore, the rarog is a tiny bird that can be held in a pocket, and can bring people happiness.

Bauk:

An animal like creature in Surbian Mythos, the bauk is described as hiding in dark places, holes, or abandoned houses, waiting to grab, carry away, and devour its victim; but it can be scared away by light and noise.

Polevik:

field spirits that appear as a deformed creatures with different coloured eyes and grass instead of hair. They appear either at noon or sunset and wear either all black or all white suits. They are also described in south Russian folklore as field spirits with green hair. According to local beliefs they lead wandering people in a field astray, give them diseases or ride them over with their horses if they are found asleep.

Blud:

one of the Slavic fairies in Slavic mythology is an evil-deity that causes disorientation and leads a person aimlessly around and around.

Gamayun:

a prophetic bird of Russian folklore. It is a symbol of wisdom and knowledge and lives on an island in the mythical east, close to paradise. She is said to spread divine messages and prophecies, as she knows everything of all creation, gods, heroes, and man

Błudnik:

a demon in Slavic mythology, that dwells in the region of Łużyce. it was said to be a mischievous gnome who used to lead people astray and decoy them into swamps

Dhampir:

a mythical creature in Balkan mythos that is the result of a union between a vampire and a human. This union was usually between male vampires and female humans, with stories of female vampires mating with male humans being rare

Zmei:

a dragon or serpent, or sometimes a human-like character with dragon-like traits in Russian mythos

Strzyga:

a female demon in Slavic mythology, which stems from the mythological Strix of Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece. The demon is similar to a vampire and is predominantly found in Polish and Silesian folklore.

[littlemourningstarr]

Refuge

Gale has hidden himself away in his tent, trying to will his own buzzing arousal away. Astarion's arrival feels like a curse, but may just be a blessing in disguise.

Kinktober 2024, Day 30: "JOI (Jerk Off Instructions)"

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Gale x Astarion

Tags: JOI, jerk off instructions, masturbation, a pinch of angst, kinktober, kinktober 2024

Gale flipped a page in his book, trying desperately to concentrate on the words in front of him, as he sat within his tent, a candle flickering. He’d been… distracted for the entirety of the evening, had been forced to leave the campfire and the company of his companions earlier than usual.

Everything just felt… too much, suddenly. He was beginning to notice just how beautiful each companion was, each flaw that he found all too tempting. Shadowheart looking like a blade of moonlight, Lae’zel cast in the shadows and flames like something fearsome- Wyll’s gods damned smile.

He groaned, tipping his head back. His groin throbbed, a pulsing heat within his pelvis, his balls aching, his cock tight to his pants. Typically he could ignore his arousal, and if it was too threatening he could occasionally take himself in hand and keep himself calm enough that the orb behaved. But this felt… different.

Because they were all so close. Despite the tensions and snide remarks, Gale had this twinging feeling that if he were to proposition any of his companions, they would take him up on it, quickly. And that temptation was terrifying…

Gale lifted his head, opened his eyes- and gasped sharply, realizing that his tent was being held open, a set of too red eyes looking at him, intrigued.

“By Mystra’s grace Astarion, do you want to startle me into an explosion?” Gale tried to sound annoyed, but he feared it fell flat. The vampire looked like a ghost, a wraith- a marble sculpture with the moon and stars illuminating him in a holy halo.

Gods above, below, and long dead- he was gorgeous. And it wasn’t helping Gale’s situation.

The vampire flashed him a smile- all fang- and stepped into his tent, letting it flop closed behind him as he settled on his knees. “Did you need something?”

“Me? Oh, no, I am quite… content. But you…” he reached out, caught his finger under Gale’s chin, forcing him to raise his head slightly, showing off his neck, “my dear wizard, you seem to need something quite badly.”

Gale kept his mouth tightly shut- but inside, he was panicking. He should have known the vampire would notice something- his senses had been beyond heightened once he had started feeding regularly.

Gale had but a breath to decide if he was going to deny or admit the truth. And when he said nothing at all, it was admission enough.

Astarion chuckled, a little rumble from his chest, his finger tracing down the front of Gale’s throat, over his adam’s apple. “Poor little Gale, doesn’t know how to ask someone to bed. Why, I would have thought bedding a goddess would have given you a complex. Who ruined you tonight, hmm?”

The top of Astarion’s finger was so chilled, it was all Gale could focus on. Would it feel good, to have that sort of cold pressed up against his own warm, soft heat? Astarion was all smooth skin, hollows of bones and sinewy muscle- gods, to have him pressed to the softest parts of Gale’s body, to feel his legs wrap around his waist, watch his head tip back, his arms extended like angel wings-

Astarion grinned more. “Your heart is racing. Do share your thoughts.”

“You should leave.” Gale’s voice was thick, slow. It was dangerous to have Astarion this close, to entertain these thoughts. The orb felt unsettled in his chest, nearly pulsing with his heart.

“Oh darling, don’t play coy, I can…” Astarion paused, eyeing Gale’s throat- and Gale realized the humming pulse of the orb, in time with his pulse. “Hear your heart…”

Gale couldn’t even focus on the fact that Astarion was, quite possibly, propositioning him, although it very well could just be teasing. It was too dangerous. “Which means you need to leave, right now. A little reading will calm me down.”

Astarion was quiet for a long moment, looking at Gale with an almost pitying look. “You can’t even take care of it yourself, can you?”

Gale shut the book in his lap rather forcefully. “No, Astarion, not safely if I’m worked up enough. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to dwell in my seething arousal alone.”

The vampire, however, didn’t leave. He trailed his cold fingers down the pulsing orb’s veins, watching the purple illuminate his skin. “I’m going to regret this,” the vampire mumbled, “but that is simply… not fair. We can’t have you sitting here like a prudish monk.”

“Did you not hear the threat that excitement could mean I detonate and level everyone from here to Elturel?” Or what remained of it, anyway.

But Astarion was ignoring him, shuffling closer. He smelled refreshing, the bergamot thick, as if he had just reapplied the scent. His other hand took Gale’s book from his lap, set it aside- then took one of the wizard’s hands, slid it over his thigh, until he was pressing Gale’s hand to the wizard's quite obvious erection.

Gale’s hips bucked up towards his own hand, as the chill of Astarion’s skin felt… oddly grounding.

“If you stay like this you’ll burst at the first sight of someone’s ankle. No, taking the edge off is a far better risk than simply letting yourself spiral into unsatisfied need. So,” Astarion stroked his fingers over Gale’s knuckles, along the bones at the back of his hand. “Take yourself in hand and find some release. I’ll keep you calm.”

Gale couldn’t fathom how Astarion would keep him calm, when the man was doing the exact opposite- but gods he had a point, didn’t he? If Gale didn’t calm himself down, find some release, he was only going to get worse, the next wave of frustration stronger- until, gods above, he just might get so excited by the most ridiculous thing that he simply did explode into oblivion.

He hesitated another moment, before he leaned back a bit, fingers tracing the waist of his pants. “If we all die, I’m blaming you,” he pointed out. Astarion gave him a little smile, a small quirk of his lips.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, darling.”

Gale reached into his pants, gave his cock a squeeze through his underwear, before he freed himself. He didn’t miss the way Astarion’s eyes flicked down, took in the flush of his cockhead, the smear of precum already visible.

The damned vampire licked his lips, and Gale felt his heart rate spike, the orb ache in his chest. Astarion dragged his eyes back up to his face, locked eyes with Gale.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice soft, quiet. “Move your hand slowly.” Gale listened, held Astarion’s stare as he stroked slowly. “Don’t focus on the touch, just the feeling.”

Gale sucked at his tongue, tried not to focus on what he was doing- only that it felt good. But gods he wanted to stroke faster, wanted to rut into his hand, find release quickly.

He sped up a little, but Astarion reached out, grasped his arm gently, forced him to slow, gave a single shake of his head. “Don’t be desperate Gale. You’ll get there. Slowly, so we can keep that pretty little heart of yours calm.” He pulled his hand back, and Gale swallowed thickly, but listened- his hand slowing down, his grip loose, just bumping his glans on each up stroke. “Good, better.” The vampire pulled his eyes from Gale’s for a moment, glanced at the pulsing on his neck, before turning his eyes back to Gale. “I’m going to touch you- no, not your cock, don’t look terrified.”

Gale hadn’t even realized that he’d gone wide eyed, hopeful and fearful.

“Just let me make you more comfortable. Keep going as you are.” Astarion reached for his robes, began undoing its fastening, opening it to reveal Gale’s bare chest. He pushed it fully open, then placed both his palms flat to Gale’s chest. Gale sucked in a breath, the coolness a shock to his system, making his chest cramp up- but oddly enough, made him feel almost calm.

It was the touch of another, after all. Something he hadn’t felt in over a year.

He made a desperate little noise, and Astarion leaned closer. “Shh, shh, you’re alright. You’re alright.” His thumbs rubbed at Gale’s chest, over his thick, dark chest hair. The wizard was sure he could feel his heart and the orb pulsing under one hand. “Look how close I am, and you’ve still got your pretty little head attached.”

Gale managed a smile, couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “Pretty, eh?”

Astarion tutted, gently let his nails scratch at Gale’s chest. The sensation was slightly distracting- kept Gale from focusing on the dire need his cock was aching with, in his hand. “Don’t make me take it back,” he chided. “Stop touching yourself.”

Gale paused, pulled his hand away- but it was agony. The moment he lost the sensation on his cock he realized just how tightly he was wound, each muscle in his body ached.

“You’re getting too excited.” Astarion skimmed his hands up to Gale’s shoulders. “I can hear your pulse. Now, listen to me very carefully. Take yourself in hand.” When Gale hesitated, Astarion added with that attitude of his, “your cock, you stupid, silly man. Now.”

Gale took himself back in hand, his other hand on his thigh, gripping it tightly.

“Don’t stroke, press your thumb just beneath the head.” Gale listened, pressing his thumb under his glans, at the heavy bundle of nerves that rested there. “Good, good. Now rub, slowly now.”

The wizard listened, felt his balls going tight as his cock spilled precum at the touch. It made it easier to rub slowly. 

“Your pulse is going to go up,” Astarion murmured, hands going back to his chest. The coolness was comforting. “It’s okay. Don’t panic. You’re going to get relief, I promise.”

Gale believed him.

He took a slow breath, not fighting the way his belly was tightening up, then relaxing. He was close, close enough that he was beginning to feel that fuzzy orgasmic feeling, in his spine.

Astarion leaned closer, until his forehead was pressed to Gale’s. It was… intimate. Gale’s chest ached over the action, but his pulse remained. This was a different ache. One he wasn’t sure he could pull apart, in that moment.

“You’re close,” the vampire whispered- not asking, but telling. “You’re so close, and it feels so good. Everything is alright, Gale. Everything is safe, here. With me.” The wizard closed his eyes, whined softly, wanted in that moment so badly for Astarion to kiss him. But gods, there was no way he’d remain calm through that. “Almost there,” Astarion whispered, “Almost, almost… and…” he hesitated, then whispered in a very breathy voice, “now.”

The orgasm was a tide of relief, washing over Gale, drowning him. He didn’t thrash, didn’t hump into his hand- he simply felt his muscles relaxing, pleasure stretching from his pelvis up his back, out to his limbs. His cock was weeping cum over his hand, heavy spurts that were tell-tale evidence of how pent up he was.

He kept rubbing just beneath his glans, until he felt the contractions inside him finally beginning to weaken. He dared to open his eyes, glance through dark lashes- and Astarion was still there, forehead to forehead, giving him a little smile.

“Good.” The vampire pulled back slightly, hands still on his chest. “And now you’re calm.”

It was the truth. Gale felt… relaxed. Gods, he felt drowsy. He wasn’t sure the last time an orgasm had been that good.

He hated when Astarion pulled his hands back. The orb gave a pulse as his chest ached at the loss of contact, but then the light dimmed. No burst of flames and flesh rending force- nothing but his calm heartbeat, within his breast.

He opened his mouth to thank Astarion, but the vampire gave a single shake of his head. “Don’t thank me. I simply made sure you don’t get us all killed because you’re pent up like a youth.” Gale thought the vampire might have meant there to be some teasing venom in his voice, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was looking at Gale too softly.

“How did you…” Gale paused, swallowed, hated that Astarion stood up, turned away from him, grasping the flap of his tent. He meant to leave, and Gale realized he desperately wanted him to stay. “How did you know what to say?”

The elf paused for a long moment, before he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes, those gorgeous scorching gems that could burn hundred year stone to ash- they looked sad. “I simply told you what I want to hear.”

It was honest, too honest. The moment Astarion said it he turned, let himself out into the night, leaving Gale to stare at where the man’s shadow had been.

Whatever demons kept home in the shadows of Astarion’s ribs, Gale hoped someday they would all burn in their own hellish fires. And, he dared to admit- he’d quite like to be the one lighting that fire. He’d enjoy exercising some of the fear from Astarion, and giving him the sort of safe relief he had just given Gale.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #53: Healing Right

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery, (past) vampire whumper, broken bones, past loss of bodily autonomy, offscreen surgery, emotional whump

Whumpmas in July Day 18: Ache

back to this guy :)

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Jim rubbed at the bump on his arm where the bone didn't heal quite right, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. The bone on his forearm went at an angle, up and up, before suddenly dropping off where it met misaligned with the rest of it going to his elbow. Bones, they'd told him there were two, but it was easier to just think of it as one.

It hurt, but it wasn't a bad hurt. Jim knew bad hurt. It was a dull ache he'd gotten used to over the past two years. It didn't hurt like the snap when Kane cracked Jim's arm open with his bare hands anymore, and he had pain meds now anyway. He'd tried to get on some stronger ones, but Liz had told him it wasn't a good idea, that he'd get hooked. Jim wasn't very good at disagreeing with people anymore, so he just took her word for it.

But he'd get some now for sure. Even Liz said it was okay this time. Because he had to get his arm re-broken.

Every day as the operation got closer, the dread grew more and more. He knew it wouldn't be like the first time. He'd be conked out, and he'd be allowed pain meds, real pain meds. It wasn't a punishment, and if all went well, his arm would be fixed. No reminder of Kane every time he looked at it. Probably no dull ache. It was even his own choice.

They couldn't fix the scar on his neck, neither the mark or the pain, so this was the best he could do to scrub off any lasting reminders Kane had left on his body. Liz's friend Laken had suggested a tattoo to cover it, but the idea of a needle going into his neck was so horrifying that the thought made him want to throw up.

But he could do this, at least. Even if breaking his arm again would be scary, he needed to claw his body back for himself. He needed to know it was his again, not Kane's. No matter how much it would hurt.

“I don’t belong to anyone. My body is mine. I’m out," Jim whispered to his reflection. Afraid to say it any louder, like Kane would be able to hear and swiftly correct him.

He got dressed, hiding his neck and arm under a turtleneck. He'd started dressing in them every day, though he knew he would need to take it off for the surgery. One more thing to dread about it, but he told himself it was worth it.

"You ready?" Liz asked as he came downstairs.

Jim shrugged. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

-

The operation was a success. If there was anything at all to thank Kane for, it would be that he'd made a relatively clean break.

Jim's arm hurt like hell when he woke, but he knew it wasn't as bad as it would be without the meds. He had a cast this time, and a real sling, not one he had to make himself. His friends kept wanting to sign the cast, but something about it made him wildly uncomfortable in a way he couldn't explain.

He knew the old him would have jumped at the chance to have all his friends sign it. Probably would have given out points for who could draw the best doodle. He was practically a social butterfly when he was nineteen, before Kane got to him, but now it just seemed like he kept finding more and more disconnects with his old friends. They had jobs and babies and memories of the past five years together, and all he had were Kane and panic attacks.

Even though his friends kept reaching out and inviting him to stuff, he was too neurotic to act like his old self. It felt like putting on an act, it felt wrong. And being his real self was even worse: he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want them to know.

His cast remained unmarked.

-

He woke with a scream a week after his surgery, his arm exploding with pain, far worse than it'd been during his recovery.

Jim looked around wildly, but couldn't see the source of the pain in the dark of his room. He sobbed, clutching his arm protectively to his chest. He'd been so badly-behaved lately that he couldn't even pinpoint what it was he was being punished for.

He flinched back into the headboard with a whimper as the door flew open. "Please don't," he begged, trembling.

"It's okay, it's just me," Liz soothed. She sat down next to him. "Nightmare again?"

"No, I don't- I don't think so?" Jim struggled to catch himself back up to reality, but with the haze of sleep leaving his mind and Liz's presence grounding him, he came to the conclusion it wasn't a punishment at all. "I hit my arm in my sleep," he realized. "Sorry for waking you. Didn't mean to."

"You're all good," Liz assured him. "I wasn't even asleep. Getting myself back on schedule for when I go back to work."

Jim's stomach turned at the thought, even though it was no surprise. "What if something happens to you?"

"Someone's gotta protect people from 'em. Plus, I know we live in the cheapest place in the country, but I've gotta get back to work," she pointed out.

"There's other jobs. I'll get one again too, once I'm better. You could just... not go back." As much as Jim hated living by the border, the fact that it was so cheap to live here at least gave them some leeway. At least they didn't have to worry about rent, even though selling the house was nearly impossible if they ever wanted to move.

Liz patted him on the back. "Not for me, there isn't. It'll be okay. I won't be alone, and I've been doing this for years with no issues."

"What about that?" Jim pointed to the scars on her face, faded claw-marks running dangerously close to her throat.

"That barely even counts. You should've seen the other guy. Dead, for what it's worth. Most vampires won't even fight us, they just decide it's not worth the trouble and run back home. It's gonna be fine." She gave him a quick hug. "You gonna be okay to go back to bed?"

"Yeah. Just... be safe. I can't lose you again," Jim said quietly.

Liz gave him a sad smile. "I know how you feel. I'll be as safe as I can. Just go back to sleep."

True to his disobedient streak, Jim couldn't manage to fall back asleep, mind racing with fear. Liz getting taken by vampires, subjected to the same hell as him, or having her mind stolen from her entirely. Kane showing back up to steal him away in the night while Liz is off fighting other vampires, arriving home too late to help. Jim reached a shaking hand under his pillow and took his stake- a real one this time- and held it close as he sobbed, trying to be quiet and not disturb Liz again.

He could only hope his arm would heal better than he was.

-

i'll be putting out two one-shots next! one about a fairy whumpee on friday, and one about an alien whumpee on monday. after that, more Jim in Distress!

event: @whumpmasinjuly

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