#vampire Henry au

[indywasdeepfried]

For spooky month, I give you vampire William and werewolf Henry !! >:]

Look at These Goobers <3

[karmaxxx130]

for @mimikyu-oli, because i love his idea soo much!!!

"They then decided to give Michael his own freezer with a comfy mattress, blankets and pillows in it."

[yellowbunnydreams]

Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 10]

~I'm sorry! Okay! We needed some angst!! I hope this chapter makes it up to you. And don't worry, this isn't the end either.~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@ruh--roh-raggy @xp-doggy @redbunny03 @marigold-petalz @seviliet @astinkerofarat @iamnotwiddle @imtiredshow

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU. Angst. Extra monster! Jealousy, defenstration, mention of blood.

Henry had noticed that things seemed a little tense in Freddy's when he walked in that morning.

William was late coming into the office, which was unusual for his life-long friend and business partner. William Afton didn't do late unless he could help it, the only things he had ever known William to be late for, infact, were social functions when he was with his college girlfriend Clara. But something seemed off to the were-bear's senses as even one of the members of staff seemed particularly tense.

And of course, he noticed a hastily scrawled note on the space in the schedule where your name sat where it had been erased and replaced with Claire's.

He sighed and ran his hands through his curly, dark hair. The whole day had been plagued with a sense of melancholy from the incubus crammed at his desk behind Henry. Barely moving, hyper-focused on his paperwork with the formerly customary 'Afton scowl'. Henry knew William had a chronic case of resting bitch face sometimes, but he had thought his friend has seemed generally much happier with everything and had been smiling more.

"How's-" Henry said your name suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over the small office space as William paused and barely glanced up from his work. "I noticed she wasn't on the schedule today."

"Why should I know?" The were-bear blinked at the calloused reply, feeling himself reeling as he got the sudden sinking feeling that something had transpired that he hadn't been privy to. Taking out his phone and texting away as he feigned disinterest.

"Because she's been living at your house?"

"Not anymore she's not." William growled, feeling his chest tightening unpleasantly at the thought. His salt and pepper hair was tousled like he hadn't quite bothered to brush it, even his stubble seemed to be unkempt as William rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. Henry looked at William and watched his pen hovering above the paperwork, poised to write something the incubus had forgotten.

Henry paused and shuffled over his chair, sitting opposite William and making the older, broader man look up with a scowl and furrowed brow as if to ask what he wanted.

"Talk to me William, something is clearly bothering you."

"And what if I'm just glad to have my own damn house back?"

"I think you're lying to yourself, firstly," Henry raised an eyebrow at the still scowling incubus, who thumped his foot in retaliation, although Henry was quite used to his friend's bullshit by now. "And secondly, what happened to all that flirting you were doing? I mean it was bad, sure, cringey even! But I haven't seen you smile that much around somebody. Ever."

William thought for a moment and sighed as he leaned back in his slightly too small office chair. Placing the pen down on his cluttered desk and his frown deepening as he realised that Henry was right. He had been happy, he'd been smiling a lot more and he'd even spent more time out of the workshop without having to be coaxed with food, a cigarette break or once, even a trail of candies leading towards a precariously balanced cardboard box ontop of a door and Henry peering out from around the edge holding some string.

"She...texted me last night."

"Okay. And what did it say?" William pulled his phone out, wincing as his thumb ran over the semi-deep scratch in his screen from where he had frustratedly and accidentally clawed it the night before.

"'How do you ask a guy out you like?'" Reading the text out loud, Afton winced, swallowing hard as that ugly green jealousy raised it's head again. But Henry simply raised his eyebrow again and rolled his hand, gesturing for the incubus to continue.

"''Well, guys like it when you're blunt with them. You should just ask them.'"

"And then?"

"'Would you like to go out with me?'" Henry smiled widely but coughed to hide his excitement as the rabbit man stared at his phone, frowning and making Henry's smile slowly fall as he got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Please, tell me you said 'yes' to that poor girl." William looked quizzically at the were-bear, tipping his head to one side as he ran his thick fingers through his hair.

"No? I said she just needed to say that to whoever she was asking out. It was clear she had somebody in mind." The incubunny growled as that jealous feeling that knotted his stomach up and he thumped his foot hard enough to make the desk shake slightly. Henry felt his face falling from the usual cheer into a paled scowl as he stood up. Pacing around to William's side, he moved his hand up behind his friend's back as if he was going to soothe William's temper.

And a bear paw smacked him in the back of the head instead.

William's head snapped forwards, blinking as he tried to clear his vision and standing up abruptly. Feeling his sharp teeth press against the inside of his lips as they curled into a snarl. Claws digging into the palm of his hands as he seemed to tower slightly over the more ursine looking Henry. Both monster men at various stages of their respective transformations. William's eyes purple and slit pupiled. Henry's blown out and dark. Both sporting claws as Henry tried to not let his own primal form take over.

"What the actual fuck, Henry?" The low baritone growl that reverberated around his chest would make most other monsters back down, and certainly would make a human loose their nerve, but Henry stood firm and put his bear paws on his hips, little round bear ears pinned back and his head low, snorting loudly.

"What the fuck am I doing? God you're so fucking stupid, Afton!" Henry placed his paws over his face and dragged them down lightly, careful not to catch himself with his claws accidentally. "She DID ask the guy she liked."

"Who? How come you know?"

"IT'S YOU, YOU FUCKING FLUFFY BRAINED DIDDLE DEMON!" Henry shouted, his fingers curling into fists in exasperation as he looked up at his friend. Watching the pinned back rabbit ears slowly lift then slowly lower again as a look of confusion and horror crossed his grey-ish furred features.

"What?"

"My god, are you so far up your own ass you can't hear me now? She asked you. She literally asked you how you would like to be approached with being asked out and then she did and you blew her off. Great fucking job, you absolute muppet."

Going back to his usual family friendly self as he shook out the transformations and snorted again, growling as he spoke, unhappy that he had had to resort to violence to snap William from his pity-party. William's ears felt like they were ringing as his body slowly returned to most of it's normal stature and features, his claws still remaining as his foot began to tap nervously against the cluttered office carpet.

"Oh...oh fuck."

"Yeah, you getting it now?"

"Oh... oh fuck I have to find out where she is. I...Oh fuck I have so much apologising to do." William moved on auto-pilot, feeling his legs partly turning to give him a little extra speed as Henry looked after him and swore under his breath, following behind and trying to make sure there were not traces of ursine features left on his face.

"William! William Afton!"

Afton didn't hear him as he tried to walk himself calmly into the dining room. Eyes wildly scanning and not caring in that moment if his secret was blown wide as he looked for one person in particular. He hadn't been particularly caring about sorting the rota out when he got the sense that you weren't coming in that morning, but he could already feel his heart pounding so hard and fast in his chest he was afraid it might burst in his chest. Finally, he spotted who he was looking for, and quickly smoothed his shirt back into place after his slight transformation, fingers running through his hair as he slowly and calmly made his way over.

Or at least, he hoped he looked calm and collected.

"Claire! Thank you for coming in on such short notice." He gave the smaller woman a wide smile as she stopped sweeping and looked up at him. Scowling heavily and turning her attention back to the broom as she swept up pizza crumbs and confetti from kid's birthday parties.

"I'm not talking to you Mr. Afton." She snapped, making William blink and wince as he had that sinking feeling that perhaps it was to be expected.

"Young lady, I-"

"I don't care. Zip! I'm not talking to you after what you did to-" She said your name and all his suspicions were confirmed. Wincing and cringing in on himself as he tried his best to hold his still human looking hands in a placating gesture.

"Look, I know that I-"

"Oh Mr. Emily! Wonderful, do you want to know what Mr. Afton's done?" Claire leaned against the broom and turned her glare towards Henry, who seemed a little flustered and out of breath, cheeks burning as his curls were a little wild.

"Claire. I know that William might have made some little mistakes, but I assure you, it's being handled." He assured, attempting to remain professional and courteous as the smaller woman scowled even more. He began to wonder for a moment if somebody had finally made a match for Afton's own face of displeasure.

"*Little mistakes*?" Claire spat, making Henry raise an eyebrow as William looked even more sheepish, pulling his hands back to his body as he cringed. "Do you know what he did? Did he actually tell you because I can tell you-"

"FOR FUCKS SAKE, *LISTEN*. William is *trying * to ask you where she is because he's been informed, by *me*, that his stupid ass couldn't see that he was the one being asked out." Henry decided to cut to the chase, knowing that they were going to get nowhere with Claire when he could see that William was itching to find you.

She looked between the two men, her forehead creased as she tried to see if one of them would crack and reveal that it was some cruel joke to be played on you when you weren't even there. But her complexion drained and paled as she stared, the dawning expression of realisation that Henry wasn't lying to cover for his business partner.

"Wait so he....you.."

"Actually wanted to say 'yes' if I had realised that she was actually asking me." William felt his foot tapping away on the mildly tacky carpet, his nose twitching as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but the expression on Claire's face as she formed a silent 'o' made his brow furrow and his nails dig into the skin on the back of his neck as his stomach sank. "Claire?"

The woman got out her phone and quickly scribbled down something on a loose receipt that she had kept in her pocket, handwriting shaking as she handed it to Henry, who in turn passed it to William, reading it and wondering why he'd been handed her address.

"Look, okay, she was really upset last night and so I told her to go on a date to get her mind off of it-" William's head snapped up as she held her hands out placatingly, a growl bubbling up in his throat, barely surpressed.

"With who?"

"I don't know, some guy from her apartment block. David, Damien.."

"Dave?"

"Yeah, that's-Mr. Afton?"

William Afton didn't wait as he began to set off from the pizzeria, allowing himself to growl as he began to change before he even hit the door. His sharp teeth filling his mouth, nails becoming claws as he ripped at his tie and tried to pull it from around his neck. It was like he was suffocating as he stumbled around the back of the building, feeling bones shifting under his skin as his body grew warmer as the fur started to sprout over his skin.

Dave fucking Miller.

He snarled as he kicked off his shoes, his feet changing as he managed to barely make it to the heavily sheltered back alleyways so he could complete his transformation. A growl constantly reverberating in his chest as he only kept one goal in his mind spiralling as he lost control for the first time in a long while.

He had to find you.

You hadn't quite planned on your landlord sitting opposite you in your apartment unit, but there Dave Miller was. Dressed in a t-shirt that had some suspicious stains on it and looking like it had been dragged out of the building's lost and found bin and a pair of black slacks. You had been a little confused when he had shown up wearing no shoes and only his socks, but you were grateful that at least he had shown up.

After crying for most of the night, Dave had come to knock on your door to ask what was up, apparently he could hear you quite clearly through the wall since your bedrooms were backed onto each other, which led to some embarrassing thoughts as to what else Dave might have heard had your relationship with William developed. But when you explained to the vampire what had transpired, he gave you an almost condescendingly lazy smile as he suggested that you should try dating him. Explaining that really, it made sense, a vampire was essentially a soft dip into the world of non-human dating, and it would give you a chance to see whether or not you wanted to even continue in that world.

It had seemed like a fantastic idea at the time.

But now you were sat in your own nice blouse and good jeans, watching as Dave swirled the wine glass in his hand and the thick red inside clung to the glass a little too long to allow you any thought that it could be a particularly viscous red wine. You were regretting the choice to not allow Dave to bring his customary mug around so that at least you wouldn't have to look at it. Dave called it 'exposure therapy'. He checked his watch for the fifth time in an hour, and you felt each one sending a sinking pit into your stomach.

"Do you have somewhere else to be?" Snapping slightly as the gaunt man looked up, lazy smile on his face and shaking his head slightly. Picking up the glass and sipping from it with an exaggerated sigh of appreciation.

"No no, sugar. Just waiting for the real date to begin." His words stung you, and you felt your eyes becoming hotter as tears pricked at them. Swallowing thickly as your hands curled around the cutlery you had set up on the kitchen counter, since you at least needed to eat in the traditional sense.

Dave suddenly perked up, looking towards your window and moving over towards it with that careful, lanky shuffle that held a shocking amount of grace in it for such an awkward looking man. Thin, willowy almost, but you could see in his bare arms as the sinewy muscles twitched as his bruised, dark circled eyes darted about. Never quite making eye contact until you least expected it.

He stood by your window as you felt yourself getting upset all over again, unsure why you had listened to Claire and allowed yourself to go on one date with somebody you didn't even really know when you have rather been sat on your couch watching re-runs of overly dramatized medical shows and eating a pint of ice-cream. Dave's fingers curling around the latch to your window before opening it out wide. It was the one above your fire-escape too, so it opened additionally wide, allowing a cool breeze to flow through the smaller space.

Then you heard it.

Heavy thumping. Growing closer, louder as something settled in your chest, heavy and bassy, before it even registered in your ears. The hair on the back of your neck instinctually stood up, eyes flickering about as you wondered what the sound was, although Dave seemed unperturbed as he continued to stare out of the window.

The sound finally clicked into place as something slammed into the door, hearing thin wood creaking under the weight of whatever it was as you jumped up out of your seat. Dave simply turned around and paced himself back to the counter, his expression serious for a moment as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Startling you as you felt his cool skin against yours, the way his long fingers touched the back of your neck and played with your hair making your skin crawl as you realised a little too late that his grip had tightened and forced you into the same spot.

The thumps grew more insistent. The door gave way slightly, and suddenly you could hear the noise that had been making your chest turn and feel uneasy.

Growling.

"My my, now we're getting somewhere, aren't we sugar?" Dave asked, sucking his teeth as he picked up the wine glass from the counter and swirled it. Making your nose fill with the smell of cold pennies.

"Dave?"

"Don't worry sweetheart, everything will be fine. Just promise me you won't freak out."

"Dave something is breaking down my door!" Struggling in his grip as memories of that one time you were broken into surging forwards as the growling assisted in fast-tracking your fight or flight response.

You knew that you were never winning that fight.

"Your real date has arrived."

Dave's cold, iron breath brushed your cheek as he leaned in and whispered, brushing his clammy lips against your skin as the door burst down. Splintering under the sheer force of what was behind it. Heart racing so loudly that you could feel Dave's thin fingers tapping along with it across the base of your skull.

An elongated hand gripped the upper part of the doorframe. Purple eyes glowing in the darkness beyond your doorway as a flat nosed face, teeth sharp and lip curled back into a snarl that displayed his elongated canines. You felt your breath catch in your throat as the yellowish-brown fur came into your sight, watching the claws drag against the plaster of the wall and gouge into it was the lumbering, hulking figure pulled itself in.

William Afton seemed taller, if that was somehow possible. His face less human as you realised his face had pushed out into a slightly lapine snout. His soft ears pinned back against his head and shoulders, the hunched position he was in to fit inside your apartment combined with his broad frame to fill the room and make him look even more intimidating. You realised after a second that his shirt was barely clinging on by some threads, tie like a ridiculous purple collar around his thick, furred neck as he seemed to be staring right at you.

No, not you, you realised. But Dave as you felt the vampire's grip on you tighten instinctually. Bringing the glass to his lips and drinking down the rest of it before setting it down on your counter. Planting a kiss on your cheek, eliciting a growl from William as he stalked towards Dave, panting and chest rising and falling rapidly as his hyper-focus on the vampire seemed to blind him to how small the space really was.

It was a blur of fur and movement that you almost missed as William lept forwards, grabbing hold of Dave in one of his monsterous paws and making you yelp as your landlord as wrenched away from you. A scream tearing itself from your lips as you watched William's fur and muscles ripple and he flung Dave through the window.

Naturally, you ran up to the windowsill, staring out and expected to see blood and gore dashed out on the concrete, but instead, what you saw confused you.

Dave was unmoving for a moment, before you could make out his thin frame lifting itself slowly. It looked wrong. Like all the angles weren't quite human. But your attention was on the big, chalk bullseye drawn on the sidewalk, your heart racing as you were filled with adrenaline. Watching as Dave managed to limp and slide himself over to a car that you hadn't noticed, the lights flicking on and the car slowly pulling out of the lot and into the night.

William's head pressed against your ribs as he tried to shove past to look through the window, but you turned and blocked it. Afraid, confused, and weirdly, you felt your heart aching as you looked at his features properly.

Whilst he looked rabbit-like when you had seen his monster form, and still recognisably humanoid in a lot of ways. This was different. Afton almost reminded you more of a hare, the fur less fluffy and more sleek to his hulking mass. But the sharp, jutting teeth that rendered him unable to hide them under his lips screamed predatory as those slit-pupils focused on you finally. Panting, the growl abating slightly as he seemed for a moment to not register who you were, and then realisation set in. You watched the animal face fill with confusion, with something warm, and then with horror as it dawned on him that you had watched him throw a man out of a window and break down your door.

Your ears filled with a soft sound as you were unable to take your eyes off of him, watching him attempt to stand and shaking his head like a wild animal that had gotten confused. Realising it was his body shifting and changing as it definitely shrunk a bit, his fur fluffing out and becoming more of the digitigrade legged rabbit humanoid that you had come to expect from William's monstrous form.

"Bunny..." He breathed, his deep, gravelly voice wavering as he reached out a hand to you before pulling it back to his chest. His eyes filling with worry as he looked at your confused, scared expression, feeling his heart swelling with self-doubt and loathing.

He had lost control. He had almost caught you up in his own ugly jealousy and gotten you hurt.

"William?" You were unsure of yourself, your own voice wavering as he nodded slowly. Both of you swallowing thickly as you began to head for the door, looking over the broken splinters. Stepping over them and feeling the incubus following your every move and following after you as you began to head down the stairs.

You needed some air.

The cold air bit at your skin in a way that was adrenaline inducing and soothing all at one. William's car was weirdly parked in the lot, but glancing at the rabbit man as he trailed sadly after you, his ears still pinned as he ran his hands over his furred face, and seeing his black slacks burst open at the bottom half of the seams, barely giving him tattered shorts, you somehow doubted he had driven there.

You sat on the hood of his car, your body shaking as the adrenaline passed and William stood barely within your reach. Looking anywhere but your face.

"What...Was..."

"That...wasn't pretty. It's what happens when I lose control. You deserve every explanation that I can give you." His voice still gravelly as he focused on your face finally, scanning you to see how you would take the information.

"You can lose control?"

"Yeah. Incubi are...well, no, demonic types in general are more prone to it. It gets messy quickly."

"What made you lose it?"

"Bunny..."

"No, William, you said I deserved an explanation, and I'm asking you." You managed to firm your voice, looking into his purple eyes and seeing his brows turning up as his expression saddened. His foot thumping his against the floor as he tried to think of how to word it. Taking a deep breath before he opened his mouth.

"You. You made me lose control." He swallowed as he ran his fingers through his fur and tried to stop the nervous tap his foot made against the concrete. Barely remembering taking his shoes off. "Well, more specifically, realising that you were on a date."

"You...turned into...that..because I was on a date?"

"Shit, that sounds awful. Bunny, god why is it so hard to speak to you? I'm an incubus, I'm a demonic being, admittedly third generation, but still. I don't like people, but talking has never been a problem until you arrived and I couldn't shake you from my thoughts." Growling as he thumped his hand against the hood of his car lightly, leaning over you and meeting your eyes finally.

"Bunny, if I had realised that you were asking me, god I...I would have said yes so many times over. I would have done so many things differently if I had known."

"You really didn't know?" You asked, incredulous as he nodded slowly, his ears perking slightly before flattening again, his nose twitching constantly as he looked away from your gaze.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Constantly. I didn't mean to send that text to Henry, I wanted to send it to you! I purposely did it. Call me an old fool, but I...God, bunny, I want to worship the ground you walk on, you're my sunshine, and I understand if you don't want to ever see me after-"

You didn't give William a chance to continue speaking as you grabbed his tie and pulled him close, your eyes brimming with tears as the rabbit man babbled his inner thoughts to you in a heart-felt confession. He stumbled closer as your smaller frame tugged him in and he resisted to try and not crush you under his weight.

But as your lips met his, all that tense anxiety melted from his body and yours. Holding onto his tie as he was stupefied by the kiss for a moment before his thick, strong arms wrapped you up and held onto you tightly. Hearts pounding together as you broke off for air as you felt him shifting around you. The lips you kissed becoming less furred and feeling his beard scratching as your skin, thick, rough fingers stroking down your back as you sat back and looked at William's human face staring at you. His lips curled up in a smile and creased the corners of his eyes as you felt him doing a little jump in one spot, making you smile back at him.

"You don't mind...that I'm a monster?" He asked, thinking back to the terrified expression you'd had seeing his most monstrous state.

"William, if I minded, I wouldn't have kissed you when your face was furry."

"Yes, I know but still."

"Shut up and kiss me again, incubnny."

"Oh, gladly, little bunny." He cupped your cheek with one hand as he leaned in and kissed your lips again. A soft, chaste thing that still stole your breath away as he pulled you against his broad body, perched on the hood of his car as he tenderly stroked your hair. Both of you wishing the moment would never end, even though you knew that you couldn't leave William in his shredded clothes.

"Maybe we should get you home, you're kinda half-naked in the parking lot." William chuckled at your words and raised his greying eyebrow and smiling wickedly, rolling his eyes playfully.

"And here I thought that was extra romantic."

"Oh totally, in a very different context."

"Oh?"

"Stop smirking at me! You'll find out eventually, you still owe me a proper date first."

"Can I at least give you another kiss for now?" Waiting for you to confirm with a nod.

And he did, pressing his lips to yours once again and cupping both of your cheeks as you felt your cheeks flushing. Holding onto his tie still as you remained in the half-dark. Knowing that there was a lot of things the two of you would have to work out, but you were looking forwards to each and every step.

[nachosforfree]

Vampire William. Runs away

[sitraddique]

🙊🙊🙊

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

i want to kiss him

[spirit0flondonatnight]

with the release of Procreate Dreams I realized I needed to refamiliarize myself with the app so... I did that

take a Vampire Jekyll doodle^^

[foundtherightwords]

The Hollow Heart - Chapter 1

Pairing: Hellcheer, Gothic AU

Summary: To escape her mother's control and the stifling society of Gilded Age New York, heiress Christabel Cunningham impulsively marries Henry Creel, a charming and seductive stranger, and accompanies him to his remote mansion on the West Coast. There, as Henry grows cold and cruel, Christabel must uncover her husband's sinister secret before it's too late. But can she trust Kas, her husband's enigmatic assistant, who seems to be her only ally in this strange place, or is Kas's loyalty to his master stronger than his attraction to Christabel?

A/N: This was inspired by the moodboard for "Vecna's Bride" by @a-strange-inkling. I saw the title and the Gothic imagery and my imagination just ran wild.

I changed the names to differentiate them from my Regency AU and better fit the Gothic vibe, so Chrissy is now Christabel (after the poem by Coleridge; the fic title and chapter titles are also quotes from the poem) and Eddie is Kas, because I took some inspiration from the D&D lore of Vecna and Kas (big thanks to @waterfallsilverberrywrites for helping me with that!) When I did a poll, the consensus was that Eddie's Gothic name should be Edmund, but... I prefer Kas :P (I already have plans to use Edmund for another AU.)

Chapter warnings: none (but Eddie doesn't appear in this chapter yet... please bear with me)

Chapter word count: 3.9k

Chapter 1 - At the Old Oak Tree

Christabel ran.

In the distance, she could hear the shouts and cheers of the hunting party, the excited barking of the dogs, and the occasional gunshots, cracking sharply in the crisp autumn air. She was not far enough. Lifting her heavy wool skirt above her knees, she pushed deeper into the bushes. The dead leaves from years past formed a soft carpet under her feet, muffling the sound of her steps, while the leaves of this year, despite having turned all shades of gold and crimson on the trees, had not yet fallen, so she need not worry about being discovered from their crunch underfoot. She hoped the party was not headed this way. After all her endeavors to snatch a moment alone, she intended to savor it to its fullest.

Christabel Cunningham hadn't had many opportunities to be alone in her twenty-three years on Earth. The only daughter of a wealthy New York businessman, she had been since birth surrounded by nurses and governesses and servants, who took care of her under the watchful eyes of her mother. Her father had died, quite suddenly, of a heart attack, when Christabel was only a child. Christabel did not miss him. To her, he was but a dim, distant figure, always away on business trips, or holed up in his study when at home, hiding from his wife, leaving Christabel to bear the brunt of her mother's nagging. The sole mark he'd left on Christabel's life was her name, given to her by him in a fit of romanticism, much to the disapproval of Mrs. Cunningham, who preferred classic names like Elizabeth or Catherine or Amelia. His death didn't leave much of a void behind.

Her mother, an ambitious and exacting woman, embittered by her failure to have a son and by becoming a widow so young, had poured all her affection and thwarted dreams upon her daughter, smothering the girl with them. She dictated everything Christabel wore and ate and read and play, and all the friends Christabel made and all the parties Christabel attended had to be approved by her. And so Christabel had grown up with her books and her dolls, lonely but never alone.

In truth, she hadn't been allowed to attend a lot of parties. As she grew up and learned more about her father's will, Christabel discovered a more mercenary side to what she'd once thought was her mother's overprotectiveness. As the trustee of her daughter's inheritance, Mrs. Cunningham could enjoy a lavish lifestyle, a townhouse on Fifth Avenue, a summer cottage in Newport, the latest fashion in her wardrobe and the most luxurious dishes on her table. But as soon as Christabel was married, she would be in charge of her own fortune, and Mrs. Cunningham would be left with half of what she was used to. Christabel believed that to prevent this, her mother would have locked her away forever, like Rapunzel in her tower.

But social standing has its advantages. Afraid of the wagging tongues of the town, the whispers behind closed doors that she was keeping her daughter from society to hold on to her money, Mrs. Cunningham had reluctantly allowed Christabel to make her debut when she came of age. Since then, her days had been filled with balls and theater trips in the winter, tennis matches and yacht races in the summer, giggling friends and fawning suitors, still under the watchful eyes of her mother. It was tedious, but Christabel had endured it because it was better than staying at home, surrounding by the dark walls of her room and feeling her mother's disapproving stare on her at all times. Besides, that was what was expected of all the debutantes. Smile, dance, flirt, ride, sketch or sing a little, play a little piano, speak a bit of French, a bit of German, be amusing but not sarcastic, be vivacious but not feisty, be modest but not withdrawn, and hopefully make an advantageous match, and then have daughters and watch them go through the same thing, over and over again.

Christabel knew she would not break free of this cycle. Her whole life she had been taught to do what she was told, to never question, to never put a foot out of line. But as her own, feeble form of rebellion, she made it a point to refuse every proposal she'd ever received—and there had been plenty of them. With her delicate features, dewy skin, wide blue eyes, and strawberry blonde hair, Christabel always turned heads in every room she walked in. It was true that her nose was slightly upturned and her front teeth were slightly crooked, but these flaws were seen as charming, not defective. And if her manners were at times rather listless and uninterested, well, her inheritance could more than make up for it. So a lot of men had fallen in love with her, or at least with her beauty, or with her money, and had proposed, but she had refused them all.

When Mrs. Cunningham found out about these refusals, Christabel always had a believable reason to convince her mother of her decision—the family had an unpleasant reputation, their fortunes were not equal, or the boy himself did not have a promising enough prospect. Mrs. Cunningham was appeased, for a while, but after two seasons and Christabel remained unmarried, she began to grow uneasy and warned her daughter of the perils of spinsterhood.

To all her admonishment, Christabel said nothing. It wasn't that she wanted to be an old maid for the rest of her life, far from it. But unlike other young women, who dreamed of marriage as a celebration of love or even as a way to further their social connections, Christabel saw it as a means to freedom. And none of the men in her circle could give her that freedom she so thirsted. They all grew from the same stocks, the same root. If she married one of them, she would move in the same circle, lead the same life, beating a tired circle from Manhattan to Newport and back again, perhaps with the occasional trip to Europe, but still seeing the same faces, doing the same thing as everybody else, and never be free of her mother.

For that summer season, Christabel had tried to convince her mother to go to London or Paris, or, if they had to stay, then she was secretly hoping—as hateful as it sounded—to catch the eyes of a European aristocrat, many of whom were flocking to America in search of an heiress to restore their family fortune. Europe would be the ultimate escape. However, her mother disliked traveling, and although Christabel's inheritance was sizeable, it was not large enough to draw the attention of an impoverish earl or baronet.

At least her mother had accepted Mrs. Carver's invitation to their summer mansion in Tuxedo Park for two weeks of English-style country party. There were to be riding and shooting and picnics in the woods, all culminating in a costume ball on All Hallows' Eve. They had just come back from Newport, worn out and looking forward to some quiet days to recover before the winter season, so Christabel had been afraid her mother would refuse, knowing her dislike of the outdoors. But an invitation to the exclusive Tuxedo Park was hard to come by, and when Mrs. Cunningham learned the party was thrown for Mrs. Carver's eldest, Jason, who had just come back from Yale, nothing could have kept her away.

Jason Carver. Christabel sighed. All the debutantes were in love with him, though to Christabel, he had always been just a good friend, nothing more. She'd never imagined he would set his sight on her, not when he was always surrounded by so many other girls. So it had come as a complete shock when, after a dinner party at the Carvers' mansion, Jason had asked to speak to her alone in the gazebo overlooking Tuxedo Lake. There, while the moonlight rippled over the water, turning the surface of the lake into a broken mirror, he had taken Christabel's hands in his and, tremblingly, haltingly, asked her to marry him.

For the first time, Christabel had hesitated.

Jason was one of her few childhood friends her mother had approved of, as the Carvers' Manhattan residence was not far from the Cunninghams'. He had always been kind and attentive to her, and unlike some men, she knew he cared not a jot for her inheritance, since the Carvers was one of the richest and most prominent families in the city. A marriage between her and Jason would send her mother to Heaven.

That was the problem, of course. Christabel never wanted to do anything her mother wished.

"If we are to marry, can we live here?" she'd asked. It sounded as though she had accepted him already, but she didn't care. She looked around at the untamed parkland of the mansion, with the woods surrounding it on all sides and the sparkling lake in the distance. It may not be far enough from her mother, but it would be something.

"Of course!" Jason had said, squeezing her hands. "We'll come here for the summer, and—"

"No, you mistook me. I don't mean for the summer. I mean permanently."

Jason had laughed at that, thinking it was a joke. "We can't possibly live here! I have my business in town, and there's nobody here for half of the year anyway. Why would you want to live here?"

Christabel had tried to say that she wanted to live in Tuxedo Park precisely because there was nobody there for half of the year, but one look at Jason and she knew he wouldn't understand. Nobody would.

"I'm sorry, I can't," she'd said and withdrawn her hands.

She'd half-hoped Jason would try to get her to change her mind, that he would say they could live anywhere as long as they were together, but he had only shaken his head, said, "It's not meant to be then," bowed, and gone back inside, leaving her alone on the shore of that moonlit lake. Of course. No amount of love could be enough to compel a man to throw away his whole life like that, and even if he had made the offer, she couldn't possibly have accepted such a sacrifice. Perhaps it was for the best.

Still, that hadn't stopped things from being rather tense and awkward between them when they set out for the hunt that morning. Christabel had never enjoyed hunting, but she jumped at any chance to be outdoors, to be able to walk and run and move freely without being criticized for not acting ladylike enough. And another reason—her mother, having no interest in hunting and riding, always stayed behind on such occasions. That morning, though, Christabel could feel Jason's mournful eyes on her whenever she turned. She'd only wanted to be alone with her thoughts, but it was difficult when she was surrounded by the hunting party with their guns and dogs and servants. It was only when they came across a flock of partridges and the others' attention was diverted that she managed to slip into the woods.

Now, as she walked through the trees, Christabel pondered her situation. Would it be so bad, being married to Jason? It would at least let her be mistress of her own life... except that life would still be tied to another's. No, if she simply wanted to claim her inheritance, she would've married the first man that proposed and had done with it. This regret was simply because she had started to feel anxious about her future. Could she go on like this until her mother died? Could she live as a spinster, becoming brittle and bitter in her old age, facing the pity and contempt of others? Christabel felt the old, helpless anger toward her father blaze up inside her once more when she thought about the predicament he'd placed her in. What was the use of ensuring no one could touch her inheritance, if she had to saddle herself to a man to claim it?

She passed through the line of trees and came to a clearing on the side of a hill, gently sloping toward a small glen, where an old oak tree spread its cape of gold leaves over a murmuring brook. It seemed something straight out of a Washington Irving story—all that was missing was a covered bridge. Tucking her skirt into the top of her gaiters, Christabel threw her arms over her head and sprinted down the slope, letting the cool air fill her lungs and clear her head.

Near the bottom of the slope, her skirt slipped out of the gaiters and tangled around her legs. Her ankles twisted under her and sent her tumbling down. She rolled head over heels the last few feet before skidding to a stop right by the oak. Luckily, the hill wasn't steep, and her fall had been more embarrassing than painful. She cursed under her breath. When they received Mrs. Carver's invitation, Christabel had begged and begged her mother to let her have a split skirt for the occasion so she could move about with more ease and perhaps even learn to ride a bicycle, as some of her friends had, but Mrs. Cunningham had insisted that her old riding habit, with its long trailing skirt, would do just fine. Christabel shouldn't do much walking or moving about anyway, Mrs. Cunningham had argued. Men wouldn't be interested in overly energetic girls. And as for riding a bicycle, showing off her legs in those newfangled bloomers, like some common hoyden? Forget about it.

"Are you all right, miss?" a voice said somewhere over her head.

Christabel looked up and saw a pair of blue eyes. A man had stepped out from the other side of the oak tree and was looking down at her. She suddenly became aware that she was sprawled on the ground with her skirt hiked up over her knees. She bolted up and pulled her skirt down, face burning crimson.

"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly fine, thank you," she sputtered, struggling to her feet.

Her ankle turned painfully. The man reached out a hand to help her. His grip was firm and strong.

"Thank you." Christabel peered at him more closely. He was dressed for a day out in tweed and stout boots, but with a walking stick, not a gun. "Are you with the Carver hunting party?" she asked, for she did not remember seeing him. He was a little older than Jason and her circle of friends, in his late twenties or early thirties perhaps, tall, with a fine-boned, elegant-looking face. But what startled her the most was his eyes, as clear and blue as the sky above, fixed upon her with an expression of fascination and interest quite unlike anything she'd received from her suitors. She reached a self-conscious hand to her hair, trying to dislodge any dry leaf that may have gotten stuck there.

"Carver? No, no, I'm a guest of Dr. Brenner."

Christabel's eyebrows shot up. Dr. Brenner was an eccentric who had inherited one of the largest fortunes in New York, but rather than continuing to run the family business, he had devoted his time to studies of the occult and other esoteric sciences. Unlike most of the residents of Tuxedo Park, who only kept their mansions here as holiday homes, he lived in a cottage deep in the woods year round, engaging in all sorts of obscure experiments, never interacting much with his neighbors. They tolerated him out of respect for his family name; some saw him as a harmless old fool and even invited him to some of their parties to show him off to their out-of-town friends, much like the ornamental hermits that the English aristocrats of old often kept on their grounds. Unfortunately, the Carvers were not one of these open-minded people, so Christabel had never met Dr. Brenner. She had to admit that she sometimes felt envious of him and the male privileges that allowed him to give up his family business, but not his wealth, and pursue his true passion. Alas, no such luck for her.

And here was this man, claiming to be a guest of the mysterious doctor! Her curiosity was pique immediately.

"Are you?" she asked, with interest. "I didn't know he ever invited anyone here. You must be a man of science or some sort of scholar, for him to allow you to encroach on his solitude. What is your business with him?" Then she colored again, realizing how intrusive her question was. Usually she never allowed herself to behave so casually with a gentleman, but there was something about this man that freed her from the confines of propriety. Or perhaps it was the scene around them, the wild woods and the open sky that had no use for etiquette. Still, the habits of upbringing were hard to shake off, so she cast her eyes downward and murmured, "I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to pry."

"Not at all," the man said with a friendly smile. "As a matter of fact, my family came from this area before it was developed, and Dr. Brenner is helping me to research our history. I'm just looking for the ruins of their village."

"Oh. That sounds very interesting."

"And if there's anyone who must be pardoned," the man continued, "it should be me, for I have been so presumptuous in talking to you without so much as an introduction. You must allow me to make amends, Miss—"

"Cunningham. Christabel Cunningham," she said.

"What an unusual and beautiful name." The man looked into the distance. "The lovely lady, Christabel, whom her father loves so well. What makes her in the wood so late, a furlong from the castle gate?" he recited in his rich, musical voice whose reverberation seemed to reach Christabel's very core.

She laughed to hide her blush. "A very fitting quote. Only it's not so very late, and while the Carver mansion is grand, it is far from a castle," she said. "And I'm simply taking a walk, not praying for my betrothed. In fact"—the noise from the hunting party had ceased, and she realized it must be nearly time for luncheon—"I'm just heading back now."

"And alas, I am no Geraldine," the man said. "But may I accompany you anyway?" He extended an arm toward her.

Christabel hesitated, thinking what her mother would say about walking in the woods with a stranger. But surely, there was no harm in it. The hunting party was not so far away, and she could always tell the truth—that she had gotten hurt, and this man was helping her. She took the proffered arm, and they started walking toward the Carver mansion, not following the route Christabel had, but taking the longer way, along the lakeshore, Christabel hobbling to keep up with the man's long strides. There was a dull ache in her ankle, but she bit her tongue, not wanting to complain.

"I see that you are an admirer of Coleridge, like my father," Christabel said.

"Your father must be a man of great taste then."

Her smile disappeared. "I wouldn't know. He died when I was very little." She caught herself again. Why was she telling this man, whom she met not five minutes ago and whose name she still didn't know, all these things about herself?

"Oh, I am so very sorry." The man took off his cap, revealing longish blonde hair that fell over his forehead in soft curls. His eyes were full of sympathy. "I know how difficult it is, losing one's parents. My own parents—" His voice hitched. "They died when I was very young as well. An earthquake, in San Francisco."

Christabel's heart panged with sympathy. "That must be horrible."

Those brilliant blue eyes dimmed for a moment. "It was."

"So you live in San Francisco?"

"I do, yes."

"What is it like?" she asked eagerly. Outside of Newport and occasionally the Catskills, she had never been anywhere. She had never even left the state of New York.

Before the man could answer, she put her weight on the sore ankle by mistake and let out an involuntary yelp. He turned to her, all solicitous concern. "Have you hurt yourself in the fall?" he asked.

"I must have," she replied reluctantly.

Tucking his cap into a pocket, he knelt down, took her ankle in his hand, and gently turned it this way and that. "Does this hurt?"

"Only a little," she said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, that won't do." He put one arm around her and the other under her knees, scooping her up easily as though she weighed no more than a feather. "I should have noticed sooner," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's quite all right." Christabel was feeling a little dazed. None of her suitors had ever picked her up like that—indeed, none of them ever touched so much as the hem of her skirt without asking for permission first. She found that she didn't mind being handled, didn't mind the lack of permission-seeking. Nestling against his chest, she glanced shyly up at her gallant rescuer. Despite his slender frame, he was carrying her across the uneven terrain with no effort at all. The sun was shining upon his blonde hair, turning it into a gold helmet, and his blue eyes sparkled as he smiled down at her. She was glad they were taking the longer route.

But all too soon, the shingled walls of the Carver mansion appeared behind the trees, and the hunting party came into view. Christabel was afraid her rescuer would put her down the moment they came upon the others, but if anything, his hold around her seemed to tighten.

"There you are, Christabel," Jason said, stepping forward. "We were about to send out a search party—" His countenance changed upon seeing her in the arms of the stranger. "What happened?"

"Miss Cunningham had a bit of an accident," the man said. "I happened to come across her and took the liberty of escorting her home."

"How fortunate," Jason said, his voice icy. He all but yanked Christabel out of the other man's arms, as though she was a child, or worse, a doll, a toy to be fought over.

"I'm perfectly all right, Jason," Christabel said, fighting to put her feet on the ground. "It's just a sprain."

Jason relented and put her down. Christabel turned to her rescuer, who was replacing his cap on his hat, preparing to go. "Thank you so much," she said. "I hope I haven't delayed you from your quest."

"It was my pleasure. It's not every day a beautiful lady fell from the sky and landed at your feet, is it?"

She couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her face. "I still don't know your name."

"Haven't I told you?" He looked confused.

Christabel frowned, trying to recall. "No, I don't think so."

"Ah." He tipped his cap at her. "Henry Creel, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Will I see you again, Mr. Creel?"

He flashed her another of his dazzling smiles. "You can count upon it." Then, with a bow in the general direction of the hunting party, who was staring at him, he turned and disappeared into the woods.

Chapter 2

As usual, if you want to be tagged, drop me a line! Any likes/reblogs/comments will be greatly appreciated, thank you!

[lieselsart]

Feeding time👅🩸

[itsbrucey]

Was thinking more about my monster au and if it would have substance or just be " the dads are monsters" and I realized it would be funny if they were monsters from the forgotten realms and got sucked into the normal world to find their sons. Their sons haven't fully hit " monster puberty" or some dumb shit yet so they blend in easier and the dads have to find them in mundane and safe places where they stick out.

Also it would be funny to find out that Henry wasn't always a Harpy but got adopted by harpies as a baby and he kinda. Got magicked into one. Even funnier if Jodie is a demon upon showing up but finds out he's human and has a magical girl transformation to be normal,,,

Also I'm still not over Selkie Ron like Lark cooked so hard with that. My little seal fella,,,, he winds up in an aquarium and had to pretend to be so incredibly normal but ends up stealing a herring bucket.

DIGS NAILS INTO ARMREST. Also Werewolf Darryl transforming by accident bc of emotion..... Naga Glenn trying to hide with dresses and coats ( it does NOT work).

[nocoastposts]

Give Yourself Away | E | 3.8k

Henry is a vampire. Alex is a human. After three years of friendship, Henry decides it's time to reveal the truth to Alex. - the 'I'm a vampire' truth, not the 'I'm probably in love with you' truth. Alex takes the revelation well, but what happens when his curious nature goes a bit too far?

Or, the spontaneous Firstprince vampire/human roommates-to-lovers AU that I pulled out of thin air.

I didn't write a thing for six months, and then I wrote this out of nowhere last night. Happy Halloween!

[yellowbunnydreams]

Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 9]

~I'm sorry reader - but know that tomorrow is another day~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@ruh--roh-raggy @xp-doggy @redbunny03 @marigold-petalz @seviliet @astinkerofarat @iamnotwiddle @imtiredshow

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU. Angst

William Afton had successfully kept you away from your apartment for another week, and as he placed the last of the boxes from his car down into the empty space, he wondered how he was supposed to let you go and live your life without waking up in the same house every day.

He thought of every day he made you laugh, how sweet it had sounded, how he had for the first time in many years relished the sound and felt like he was able to relax around somebody that wasn't 'in' on his secret. How good it had felt to thump and twitch and do his silly little bounce that he couldn't quite control when he was excited. He'd cared for you, he'd tried every pick-up line over the past week, trying to play, perhaps a little selfishly, on that hormonal change to potentially forge a connection between the two of you that didn't feel like he was left staring at where you were and wondering if he was getting too old for that shit.

'Are your parents bakers? Because you're a cutie-pie.'

'Are you made of copper and terillium, because you're CuTe!'

'You must have been speeding, because you've got fine written all over you.'

'Do you have a map? Because I'm lost in your eyes.'

'You know, you're so small against me even when I'm human. It's okay, I can give you some extra inches.'

But you hadn't batted an eyelid, even at his latest, more lewd attempt. You were infuriating, but William had felt himself growing more and more dejected with each rejection.

Just as you had grown more dejected each time William had rejected you.

You hadn't quite given up yet, Valentines Day was approaching and you had thought about coming out with it and asking him, but you thought that was too direct and didn't follow your plan that you had laid out with Claire. William had received a picture of you cuddling the Spring-Bonnie plush in the room just down from his, you'd even captioned it 'Not as good as the real rabbit'. The text you'd received back was enough to make you sigh loudly enough that William followed up with 'Are you okay?'.

'Yeah, rabbits are pretty cuddly and soft.'

You had been texting Claire when you had the chance, wanting to know that you weren't going crazy when you touched William's arm and smiled up at him, texted him flirtatiously, even tried to make him breakfast one day, much to his delight and then horror as you burnt one of his pans. She was running out of ideas too, and you couldn't help but feel like you were coming to your last resort.

You were going to have to ask William Afton out directly.

But as you turned and looked into his softly smiling face, any bravado you had faded away and left your mouth dry. At least you might get some perspective from your slightly odd landlord, Dave, when he appeared to welcome you into your apartment.

"Well hello sugar, you didn't tell me you were having guests over so soon."

That raspy voice that set you on edge made you look past William and give a polite smile, seeing the lanky, gaunt man leaning against your doorframe. His dark circles looked more bruise like in the low light, and he was wearing an oversized, threadbare sweater than seemed slightly out of place compared to the black slacks he seemed to always wear. Aside from being half-naked the last time you saw him.

"Hi Dave, why don't you come o-"

"Bunny, I wouldn't do that." William growled, making you blink as you had never heard your boss acting like that. The low rumble in the back of his chest made the hair on the back of your neck stand up slightly as Dave simply cocked up head and raised an eyebrow.

"William, what's going on?" You asked, not receiving an answer as the tall, broad man fixed his eyes firmly on the man in front of you both. Blinking as you realised William's eyes were purple and had become slit-pupiled, making you tug at his rolled up shirt sleeve slightly. "Will, your...eyes..."

"My my, you didn't disclose that she knew William. I thought that you said she didn't." Something about the coolness in Dave's voice made your stomach turn uneasily, the two men staring at each other like animals sizing each other up for a fight. But you kept your hand on William's arm and slowly stroked over it to soothe him, practically feeling the reverb coming from his continuous growl that slowly ebbed.

"That was then."

"And this is now. You know, me not coming in is just a courtesy right? You should really introduce her to checking contracts for any...hidden...clauses."

"You wrote yourself entry?"

"Relax, nothing has been signed, has it, sugar?" Dave's darting gaze fixed on you, tilting his head to one side as he gave you that same crooked smile that he had when you first met.

"You're a monster too?" You asked him, watching him shrug and smile lazily as he reached up and tousled his greasy hair before gesturing to himself with one bony hand.

"You're looking at a top class predator, apex if you will. I, sugar, am a vampire." You blinked, the pieces slotting together in your head from years of having to cover literature and then finding out that monsters really did exist. Both of your bosses were different ones, and now your landlord too? And they knew each other? You vaguely recalled that William had said that monsters liked to band together in communities, so you guessed that you were going to be seeing a few more around since there was a monster friendly building in Hurricane.

"Ah, cool."

Dave blinked, his smirk disappearing as he gestured to himself again. His brow slightly furrowed.

"Cool? Did...Did you not hear me? I said, 'I'm a vampire'."

"No, I heard you the first time." Shrugging your shoulders before looking up at William, who was pursing his lips and running his hand over his beard like he was trying desperately not to laugh at the scene before him.

"Are you not...afraid...compelled by my charm and good wit?"

"I mean...I can pretend to be shocked if you want?" You offered innocently, and William couldn't take it any more as he burst into laughter, startling more than Dave's revelation. Smiling broadly up at the incubus as he clutched onto his stomach and leaned against the wall whilst he wheezed, the deep rumbling laugh making your heart throb and ache that you were running out of chances to hear that whenever you wanted.

"Are you even going to be phased if I come around, drinking blood?" He asked, scowling at William, his eyes darting around once more in behaviour that made a lot more sense now that you had context. Shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders again, much to Dave's disappointment. "Fine, alright, I give up. Sugar, you should have all your keys now, apart from the emergency one I have. Give me a call if you need any utilities hooking up, you'll have to invite me in, but you can rescind the invite any time."

You looked at William, who was just recovering from his laughter as he wiped away tears from his eyes, giving you a broad smile and ruffling your hair in that affectionate way that he always seemed to. You remembered what he said about incubi liking touch, which was why so much of your flirting had involved touching his arms and his back. Smiling down at you as he leaned down and bumped his head into yours softly, feeling his stubble scratch against your forehead slightly as he stroked your arms too.

"And here I was, worried that you wouldn't know how to deal with that asshole." You raised an eyebrow at his statement, moving your head slightly so that you could get a better look at Afton's greying hair and now silvery eyes.

"You knew Dave was a vampire?"

"I knew he was picking up property in the area, I just didn't know he would be your landlord." It was only a minor lie on his part, William knew that Dave was there all along, he would never mention the mild stalking Dave had previously done outside of William's house because of his curiosity about you. But, knowing that you now knew, and that you seemed to be aware of how to handle him, William felt less guilty about leaving you in the vampire's watch.

At least, he hoped you would be able to find somebody as happy as you made him.

"So what did he say to that text?"

"He said 'You're sweet, but I don't need any sugar for my coffee.'" You sighed and placed your head back against the exterior wall, eyes closed as you tried to soak in the cool air. Claire and yourself were on lunch break again, and you were discussing your latest attempts at flirting with your boss, trying to get him to notice you. Or at least, notice you how you noticed him.

Claire stared out across the back of the lot as she thought, wondering what on Earth she was going to do with you, and honestly, what she was going to do to Afton if she got a hold of him. She was too short to shake him by the shoulders, but she was semi-convinced she might convince Henry Emily to join in on it all if she talked to him. But then again, Henry Emily and William Afton had been friends for more years than Freddy's had been around, and Claire wasn't convinced that he would do anything other than scold the pair of you.

"You know...you should try one more time." She eventually said, looking at you from the corner of her eye and making you glance over at her. Hearing the sound of car doors opening and closing towards the front of the lot as you could both vaguely hear the sound of the music playing from the speakers and animatronics through the doors as they opened and closed with each patron coming and going.

"And say what, exactly?"

"Ask him how he'd like to be asked out."

You sat up, looking at your friend with sceptically raised eyebrow.

"You're not serious?"

"Deadly. Look, who else would know better how William Afton wants to be asked out, than William Afton himself?" She proposed, turning to you and making you think over it as she crossed her arms across her chest. She wasn't wrong, you realised with a slight sigh. He would know how he wanted to be flirted with and asked out best of all.

"I hate that you're right."

"Of course I'm right! Look, it's fool-proof and if he doesn't take you up on it, he's stupid as hell. I know a bunch of ladies who'd love to date you if you're into that kinda thing." Wriggling her eyebrows and you smacked her arm playfully, grinning at her as she mocked a pout and rubbed her arm where you had caught her. "Seriously! He's a fool."

"He's still our boss." You pointed out, chewing your lip as Claire shrugged her shoulders.

"So you have to get a job at Sparky's. Or you pretend like nothing ever happened and I'll get you a little bell to ring and Pavlov your ass out of this crush."

"Can you even do that?"

"Oh yeah, legally it's a bit grey, but technically you can do anything like that." You realised that you associated cherry candies with William already, how he always had a handful of them in his pocket ready to go and always seemed to be sucking or crunching on one as he walked around Freddy's when he wasn't in the parts and services room out the back.

"Fine, I'll ask him. But I'm not going to get my hopes up." Sighing as Claire wrapped you up in a hug and squeezed tightly, making you squeeze back before she clapped you on the shoulders and grinned at you broadly.

"Faz-fucking-tastic! Let's go!"

It was going to be a long day, you could already tell.

You paced around your new bedroom floor. feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you glanced at your phone, sat innocently on the bed-spread next to your Spring-Bonnie plushie that William had given you. Chewing over your lip and trying not to bite at your nails as you wondered if you were really going to go through with it.

Asking your boss out, that was.

It was just a text, he trusted you to see him as a giant rabbit man, hell, he'd brought you period products and spooned you with cartoons on to make you feel better about the whole thing. He'd been the one who offered for you to stay at his home despite the fact it could have been dangerous for him because you needed it.

You could send a damn text.

'Hey William, are you still up?'

Your fingers shook slightly as you sent the text, glancing at the clock on your bedside table and realising it was nearly eleven o'clock at night. Would he even be up at that time? The notification sound of your phone going off making you snatch up the device again quickly.

'Half-asleep, but I sure am bunny. What's up?'

'How do you ask a guy out you like?'

William stared at his phone, bleary eyed and suddenly his attention was fully on the small mobile phone in his hand. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the sides of it. For some reason, he found it hard to swallow as something ugly flashed through him for the first time in a while.

Jealousy.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on not breaking his screen as his clawed fingers tapped away on the keyboard. Thumping his foot against his mattress unhappily as his brow furrowed, lips pursed into a fine line.

'Well, guys like it when you're blunt with them. You should just ask them.'

You took your own deep breath, steeling yourself and typing out the words that made your heart race inside your chest wildly.

'Would you like to go out with me?'

The little bubble popped up that he was typing, the quickness of it making your stomach turn slightly in nerves and anxiety as you tried to imagine how he might try to gently let you down, or the hopeful answer of 'yes', you had so many images in your head of how you would handle the answer gracefully.

'Yeah, just send that to whichever guy it is you want to ask out.'

It wasn't until your screen began to blur in small dots that you realised you were crying. Whatever you had expected, you didn't realise how much it would hurt this much to be turned down by your crush.

Locking your phone, you crawled into bed, staring blankly at the wall and feeling the tears coming thicker and faster as you realised that you needed to talk to somebody. Picking your phone back up as you cuddled Spring-Bonnie closer with one hand, shakily texting Claire to let her know how it all went.

How you thought you'd ruined your only chance with the incubunny.

[thedemonofcat]

Modern with Magic Au:

Born with a rare allergy to the sun, Julian Pankratz, also known as Jaskier, has been confined indoors by his father and stepmother for his entire life. One night, Jaskier awakens to the horror of seeing men with fangs attacking and killing his parents. They refer to Jaskier as "Your Highness" and reveal that they've been sent to take him, promising that he will make a great Bride for their boss. Before they can abduct him, a man with white hair and fangs intervenes, rescuing Jaskier, who then loses consciousness.

When he comes to, Jaskier finds himself in a grand manor and meets Geralt of Rivia and his family, who are vampires. Geralt reveals that Jaskier is a half-human, half-vampire hybrid. Jaskier's late mother, a vampire of royal lineage, had a relationship with his human father, resulting in his birth.

Geralt explains that his family has been the protectors of the Royal Vampire family for centuries. Jaskier's half-human nature was meant to be a secret, but somehow, it was discovered.

[freddy-eynsford-hills-cuck-chair]

Not my whole brain getting hijacked by Nosferatu (2024) and making me collaborate with a fairly prolific artist on Tumblr (they only wish to be referred to as E. Dogg) to bring you the MFL Dracula AU you never asked for. Vibe inspo pictures found by E. Dogg.

Enjoy Karpathy going full Tom Waits and munching on bugs. Also sexy stuff.

[flamingredanon]

I found a cute bat meme that reminded me of your THSC vampire AU so I drew Henry onto it. Couldn’t resist giving him a teeny hat for his bat form.

Bat Henry is so cute! And Vampire Reginald is a sucker for cuddles from Henry in his bat form and Right in his wolf form.

[lilliad-dreams]

@discreet-eccentric-affairs

Henry's leg was swung over his other, quite lazily so. His head laid against his knuckles, leaning on his arm as he watched around the room. Henry was the host of the party, as he always was at these weekly things, his family- his hive scattered about the party. These parties were a way to try to recruit new members. Henry's hive- They didn't turn people all that often. But they were always looking for new humans to join them. Many of Henry's hive members chose not only to drain their human members, but mate with them. Vampires and humans, there was a special bond.

Henry was bored, though. That much was obvious, and not just to his beloved hive members. Any of the guests could tell their gracious host was bored off his arse. And he hadn't even had a single drink, so his attitude couldn't be blamed on alcohol. He sat in his chair, raised up off the ground like it was a throne, watching everyone else as if he was searching for something. Something to entertain him. He had gone a long time without draining a human.. Henry's hive took out reserves of human blood, for emergencies. Henry had been using those reserves to feed instead of taking a human to drain. It was cleaner, less messy- Less human connections. His former feeder, Lord Wetherby, was mating with George Byron- The poet, another vampire of Henry's hive. Henry cared very little about their little relationship, if he was honest. Byron and Henry had something of a friendly relationship- Henry had felt Byron's lips on his own many times. And Wetherby knew as well as Henry did that he wasn't the only one that Byron drained. It was survival, really. No vampire could survive on just one human. They needed more blood than one human mate could provide. Thus- They took on more. It was normal, it was survival. Henry's hive had called him stupid for it, but Henry was searching for something. Vampires had a special bond with a specific human in the world. Call it soulmates, call it "meant to be", but each Vampire had a connection with a human, somewhere in the world. And Henry was determined to find his. So he invited his hive to invite anyone they liked. He opened his parties to all. He sorted through the rabble, dusted off the grime. He wanted to find his human. He was unsuccessful thus far. Very unsuccessful. But he wouldn't stop looking, not now.. Even if his hive told him it was an effort he'd regret. Wetherby especially seemed to have an issue with it. Perhaps it was the man's intense envy. He wanted Henry's attention back, and ever since Henry had started looking for his "soulmate", Wetherby had been pushed to the side. Henry hadn't meant to do it, not really... But he found himself less interested in draining any of the humans in his hive when he started his search.

His hive's nurse, Ms. Lucy Hollow, told him something he wouldn't forget. She was his biggest supporter. "They're somewhere out there, Henry. Don't stop looking, if that's what your heart is telling you." She'd looked at him with such kindness, he couldn't let her down. Her support pushed him to keep looking.

And who knows, maybe tonight was his lucky night...