#what if it is finally confirmed that vampires can feel the effects of drugs and Louis is using this to numb his pain as he did alcohol?

[jaggedjot]

psychologically preparing myself for the next episode by predicting the most upsetting things that could happen

[imasadboi]

Raise the Stakes Pt.2

Next

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Word Count: 495

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I don't plan on copying and pasting the cws every new part I release so please refer back to the first to check for updates.

Restless footsteps can be heard as Leon paces in the throne room. It’s then when it strikes him, his blood. He'd read how vampire blood had effects on people but he can't exactly recall what the book said. He quickly makes his way to the ornate library in the castle. 

He remembers coming across the book when he decided to explore this large building, trying to memorize its layout and getting accustomed to it. Upon discovering the library, he couldn't help but be astounded by the decor and grandeur of how large it was. Over the years, he'd read every book in it, after making it a goal he wanted to achieve to avoid losing his mind.

He couldn't be more grateful for having taken the time to read the knowledge kept safe in this library. He found himself getting lost in some of the writings about fantasy and adventures. He doesn't know how far he would've gotten from his grasp on his humanity had it not been for them.

He feels a sense of determination when he finally arrives at the large doors that lead into the room. He quickly walks to the area where the books start with "T." His hands gently skim across the spines of the books he passed to get to the one book he needed.

He feels satisfaction wash over him when his hand finally meets the spine of the book he is looking for. "The Properties of Vampire Blood and More," written by an unknown author. Unlike most of the books in the library, this one was binded with string and had a leather cover. Easily, it stood out from the rest of the books that surrounded it. The name of the author was nowhere in sight, having been scratched out from the cover and never mentioned in the writing itself.

Leon could care less, if he was honest. He only needed what was written inside. He was also glad the author had created an index towards the contents that were contained in the book. A large grin took over his face, rereading what he had yet to confirm;

"As I've found, vampire blood has positive effects on humans when given in low doses. In low doses, we've found out that the blood can revive youth in older people as well as heal ailments here and there. More of its positive effects can be found in previous chapters. But through continued research, I've found that when given in high doses, the human given it becomes addicted to it. It creates an almost drug-like hold on whoever consumes it at great amounts. While difficult, one can still help a human’s addiction through aid. But once that person’s eyes have turned red, they’ve become completely subservient to whoever’s blood they’ve obtained.”

Leon closes the book with a resounding thud and walks out of the library with it in hand. What’s a little blood loss in the grand scheme of things?

[scarofthewind]

Touch at Midnight || Vampire!Brahms x Reader

A/N: This took so long, I am sure half of you forgot about this mini series I did. I’m sorry this took forever, I was just trying to make it perfect as well as work on requests too. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, R18+, breast worship, blood kink, biting, oral (m receiving), dom!brahms, rough sex, no prep, reader is under mind control so consensual/non-consensual, mentions of masturbation, plenty foul/dirty talk, creampie

word count: 2.01k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Mini Series Masterlist

There was a time in your life that you thought you’d live past eighty and get to watch your children, grand-children and even great-grand-children, grow up. There was a time that you believed in the world being a decent place and that you would make your mark on it one day. Now, you realized just how delusional it all sounded. Now, you knelt before a man you thought you knew, thought you would grow old with, thought you would love forever, your life dangling before you with nothing to spare. 

When you had met Brahms, you never thought anything of him; just that he was a strange man who liked to keep to himself. You’d applied for a job to work under him; to cook, clean and care for him, as though he couldn’t do it himself. During the first few months of your duties, things were tense with you being new and Brahms really trying to understand what kind of woman you were. However, as the months went on into years, you slowly became drawn to the man, often times thinking of him from dusk until dawn. 

Your mistake really.

See, you had no clue that he was a monster; something only silly children believed in. He was soft and gentle before you’d found out- another mistake on your part. Now he stared down at you with dark eyes that were once directed towards you with such kindness and joy that you almost fell for it; you did fall for it the more you realize. You fell for a man with no remorse for taking a human life, a man that could kill you with just one movement, a man that you didn’t know. Those thoughts alone nearly killed you. 

You’d been sitting on the floor in front of his chair he had in the corner of the library, the moon peeking through the window curtains and casting a small amount of light towards his feet. His eyes were the only thing you could see on his face here in the dark; red with an anger so hot you had to pray he’d have mercy on you. You don’t know how long you’d been like this, unable to move as he stared down at you without moving an inch. The hair on your skin rose when he finally spoke, slow but sharp, “You had to be nosey, didn’t you?” Your lips trembled as you contemplated speaking. “I truly had no intention of ever hurting you; you did your work around the house wonderfully. Dare I say that you were the best at it?”

Your heart hammered in your chest at the confirmation of other caretakers before you, all of which were most likely dead. They probably got too comfortable too and went looking around in places that were off limits for a reason. Like his bedroom; where you remember finding a trunk full of blood bags from the hospital down the road. “Please,” you whimpered, watching him blink before shaking his head, silencing you. 

“I’ve spent years in that pretty little head of yours, listening to everything. I know all of your secrets, (Y/N).” You sucked in a breath as he leaned forward in his chair, hovering over your face with a look that only made you want to cower even more. “I’m honored to know how fond you were of me, truthfully I am. I’d grown fond of you as well, but,” he clicked his tongue, reaching out and grabbing your jaw roughly, ignoring your whimpers of pain. “You know too much.”

“Please, I won’t tell anyone I swear! Just let me go and I’ll leave tow-” you were cut off by a sharp laugh; Brahms’ eyes wild and manic. 

“Leave? No, no, no, you’re never leaving me.” His eyes were intense, red as the flames of hell and staring into your own without so much as blinking. “Here are your options; be my personal blood bank until you die, which is usually a couple of weeks, or, prove to me that you’re worth keeping alive. Of course, both require you to stay here with me,” Brahms touched your cheek gently with his other hand, moving some hair from your eyes. 

“You know I care about you, don’t you (Y/N)? Don’t you want to stay with me?” His words had an effect on your mind that made it hard to think. The world seemed to slow, as if you’d been drugged, but you knew that it was just the power he had, manipulating your mind to believe that whatever he said was true. You could feel tears fall from your eyes as you stared into his condemning ones, a soft hush falling from his lips as he wiped the tears away. 

It was wrong for you to say yes, you knew it even though you couldn’t stop it. Yet, some dark part inside of you almost wished he would keep you this way; brain being manipulated by whatever he wanted for the rest of your days. At least that way, you could imagine everything being right; you could day dream on the thoughts he forced inside your head. One’s where you end up with him, one’s where your happy.

One’s where he loved you just as much as you loved him.

This isn’t love, you thought as you made yourself sit up enough to press your lips against his. 

This isn’t what I wanted, you told yourself when he spread his legs in the chair and you unzipped his pants. 

This wasn’t how I was supposed to live, you cried as his fingers moved through your hair, guiding your mouth up and down his cock.

All you could do was prove to him that your life meant more than just being used as food. The buck of his hips every time you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock made your eyes sting, the length making it hard to take all of it in your mouth. “You look so pretty like this,” Brahms gasped as he felt you take more of his member in your mouth, his eyes scanning your face and his mind going a mile a minute. He knew everything you were thinking as he pushed more ideas into your head, his control on you something he wished he’d never have to do. 

A lulling tug of tiredness waved in the back of his head, knowing that he hadn’t gotten to eat tonight because of the unfortunate incident of you finding his real food supply in his room. Of course, fresh blood always tasted so much better than the crap he had in bags. Brahms felt himself grow bored of watching you try to make him come, you jaw surely was hurting by now. Roughly grabbing your hair, he pulled you off his cock before standing up and pulling you up with him. You barely could get a word out as he turned you facing the front of the shiny, black piano, bending you down to where your front half was pressed against the cool surface. 

He wasted no time in ripping your clothes off of you, throwing them around the room and spreading your legs for his wandering eyes to see. A low growl made your cunt clench as he watched your juices build at your entrance where he drug the tip of his cock across. Brahms gave you no warning before sinking inside you to the base, the air practically taken from your lungs as he began moving immediately, your tight walls getting him off perfectly. “Do you know how many nights I wanted to do this?” He asked as he thrusted his hips roughly, the tip of his cock ramming against your cervix with no signs of easing up. “I’ve watched you, my innocent, precious (Y/N). Your fingers stuffing this filthy whole of yours as you squirm in bed, trying to cum.”

You can feel your walls tighten around his length at his words, your hands trying to grip the flat surface of the piano from the force he was jostling you around with. Your breasts bounced wildly, his hands coming up from your hips to find purchase there. His fingers pinched your nipples, twisting them and pulling until you were soaking his cock in your juices. “Did you know I was watching you touch yourself? I bet you did; you liked it didn’t you? Having someone else watch you fuck yourself until your tired...hmm?” 

“N-No,” you groan, trying to reason with yourself, but the impending orgasm you felt building making it all the harder to. Quickly, Brahms moved you to where you were facing him, your back fully pressed against the piano as he fucked into you at an in-human pace. You couldn’t help the sounds that were coming out of your mouth, urging him to continue. 

“I know what’s in your mind, my love. I’ve seen you think of me while you squirt all over the sheets,” you tremble at his words as his thumb barely grazes your clit. His mouth moving to your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and nibbling on it before teasing it with his tongue. With one sharp sting, he sinks his teeth into your breast, a short cry coming from your lips as he eases his hip movements while lapping at the blood pooling from the wounds. “If only you could see in my mind too. Then you could see just how man nights I’ve fucked my fist to the thoughts of this.” He chuckled to himself, licking his lips that were stained crimson. Pulling his head back, he stared down at you with something you didn’t recognize. 

The feeling was good though. Something positive out of the emotional negative you’d been put through. Brahms nearly stilled when you reached up and touched his face, his eyes watching yours for any signs of you trying to get away; all he found was sincerity. Running your fingers through his curly hair, you pressed his head down to yours where he kissed you without another word. From there, the sex was as beautiful as the day you first met him. Then, there had been sun, now there was the moon shining down on both of you. When he had first shaken your hand is was cold but now as he held yours, pinned above your head, it was all warm. 

His teeth managed to find your neck, biting there and feeding a couple of times but other than there, his lips never left yours which were swollen from the heatedness of the kiss. You moaned into his mouth when his fingers circled your clit, your thighs shaking from the intensity of the orgasm that proceeded to wash through you. Brahms made sure to hold you close, swallowing your gasps and cries of pleasure as he eased you through your orgasm. His cock twitched inside you a few more times before he finally came, deep inside you with no regrets. Everything was quiet for a minute, your lips molding against his and the soft pants leaving them was the only sound left. 

When he finally pulled away, you could see the glowing red of his eyes fade, returning to their normal hazel color and looking down at you with the kindness you had once known. His hands moved the hair out of your face and wiped away any tears that still fell, his fingers gentle against your skin. This may have been a different man to you now, but he was still the Brahms you’d fallen in love with years ago. 

That was enough to make you stay.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE BLOOD Vol.2: Mukami Kou [Track 5+6]

Original title: キバで直接確かめてやる & 罰には罰が

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 2: Mukami Kou [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kimura Ryouhei

Translator’s note: Once again, I’m just waiting for this CD to turn up the sadism level because right now things aren’t too bad. Or maybe I’ve just been ruined by Kanato’s and Laito’s MB CDs in which I’m pretty sure the MC doesn’t make it out alive, lol. All of you Kou stans are definitely in for a treat though.

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: I’ll Confirm It Directly with my Fangs

*Rustle*

“...Phew~ It’s a drag, but I guess I’ll take them off for you instead. ...Bet that makes you very happy, huh? I bet you’re screaming with excitement inside!”

You shake your head as he starts stripping you naked.

*Rustle rustle*

[00:18] “Besides, you really have no need for clothes, do you? I’m going to suck your blood from head to toe after all. Besides, I have absolutely no interest in your naked body. ...Ah! Although knowing that the precious girl they’ve been obsessing over will soon be turned into a mess does spur me on quite a bit.” 

*Rustle*

“...Hm~? You’re not going to put up a fight? Do you finally understand what kind of guy I am? Or perhaps it really does make you happy to have me strip you down like this.”

*RIIIIIP*

[00:55] “There we go...~! ...Can you tell~? You’re quite the sight right now! Your cheeks are flushed bright red as well. Are you ashamed, perhaps? In that case, I’ll do more and more embarrassing things...Don’t you think that’ll actually make it easier in various regards? Fufu~”

*Rustle*

“Hm...~”

*Sniff sniff*

“Ah...Now that you mention it...I feel as if you smell a little different from usual...”

He takes a deep breath.

“Does your scent change when you get embarrassed?”

*Sniff sniff*

[01:43] “What kind of smell is this? Are you hiding something in your body after all? Is this what those guys go so crazy about? ...Oh well. I’ll just check directly with my fangs. That’s the quickest and easiest method. ...Listen carefully. You better keep still, okay? If you make even the slightest suspicious movement, I’ll kill you. ...Well then...Time to expose your secret~”

*Sniff sniff*

“Such a lovely scent...I can’t get enough of it...Seems delicious. I honestly can barely believe a girl of your caliber would smell this good.”

*Rustle rustle*

[02:37] “I wonder where it’s coming from...~ Here? The shoulder? ...Or maybe here? Hmm...~”

Kou bites you.

“Mmph...Nn...”

*Gulp*

“Nn...”

*Gulp*

“ーーHah! Haah...Not here? Then...Here, maybe? Your side...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hahn...Haah...Not bad at all...”

*Sluuuuurp*

[03:28] “...Huh? You’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes now as well! You really must love this after all, don’t you? Fufufu~ ...Or do you like me, perhaps? Ah, that must be it! No matter how weak you are to a pair of fangs, the person they belong to is still very important, no? The fact you want me to suck you more is written all over your face after all.”

*Rustle*

“How does it feel to have a Vampire like me have an interest in you? ...Are you happy? Of course you’d me!”

You frown.

“Most human girls swoon over my looks alone so no need to hide it!”

You explain. 

[04:21] “Eh? You would never form an opion on someone based solely on their appearance? Haha...Ah-aah~ I wonder how long that courage will last? ...Didn’t I tell you it’s in your best interest not to upset me? You really are a fool...”

Track 6: One Penalty Calls for Another

“Ahー This pisses me off...I’m going to suck you completely dry.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Mmh...”

Kou bites you again.

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah...Haah...Your blood is seriously delicious...”

*Gulp*

“But you know...No matter how tasty it may be, the punishment for upsetting me is nothing to scoff at, you know?”

*Rustle*

[00:37] “A crime calls for a penalty! Exactly! I have to punish you! Fufu~ Let’s see...”

*Rustle*

“I’ll suck from your ear next. From a hard spot. So it might sting a little, but that would make you happy, wouldn’t it? ...I’ll hurt you plenty.”

He bites your ear.

“...Hm? It hurts to be bitten there? Heeh~ I see...Hahn...”

*Gulp*

“Haah...I’ll lick you then. None other than me.”

*Sluuuurp*

“It’s gushing out even from the inside...”

*Sluuuurp*

[01:48] “Haah...Aha...Fufu~ What’s wrong? Why are you crying so much? Ah! Are the ears one of your erogenous zones perhaps? Geez, don’t get all worked up just because I bit your ear.”

You protest.

“Hm...~? It only hurt? Heh. There you go telling lies again. Well, not that I care.”

*Rustle*

“I figured it’d be fine since humans have a custom of piercing their ears. I guess while they’re resistant to pleasure, the same can’t be said about pain?”

*Rustle*

“Hah...For some reason, I’m feeling a little lightheaded as well. I see...So that’s the kind of effect your blood has on us. Just like some sort of drug. Also, here...”

Kou moves his hair to the side.

*Rustle rustle* 

[02:52] “Take a look...At this right eye of mine. Can you tell? It’s shining, isn’t it? Your blood triggered this. It has happened a few times in the past as well, but your blood really is special.”

Your eyes widen in surprise.

“...Fufu~”

*Creaaak*

“Heh~ ...Phew...For prey, you’re sure living the dream right now, getting someone like me to join you in bed. I guess you’ve seen Vampires fall head over heels for your blood time after time, huh?”

You deny it.

[03:43] “No need to deny it. I can tell after all. ーー You no longer hold any secrets for me. So don’t hide it. It’s pointless anyway. Ah-aaah...How frustrating...If only you had at least one other thing going for you.”

*Rustle rustle*

“But no matter how I look at you, you’re just a little masochistic kitty...Haah~”

*Rustle*

“Hm...”

He bites you again.

*Gulp*

[04:26] “...Yet we’re being pushed around by someone like you. How could I not get agitated? ...Do you understand how I feel?”

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

“When I consider how content it must make you feel about yourself...I just want to drive you into a corner and make you face a pitiful death. You see, up until now, I’ve never gotten fixated on anything, let alone some human girl. This blood...”

*Rustle*

“...is to blame for everything.”

*Gulp*

“I’ve gotten worked up as well. Fufu~”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte AU Event

Aight because I have Comte brainworms (is this a surprise to anybody I sure hope not), there’s something I’ve just been thinking about a lot ever since completing one of the story events a month ago:

The cover art being very sexy aside, I naturally did Comte’s story event and I have yet to move on. Namely because of one specific line. (Disclaimer: Keep in mind I don’t mean to say I’m an expert, I just translate for fun--I don’t have the same prowess as an official linguist. That being said starts the circus music let the show go on)

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

This is the line I want to dive into, but before I can really talk about it, we need proper context. 

Event spoilers below:

This event is a little different since it’s an AU, so the mansion and its residents don’t exist. (Comte lives in the mansion on his own, but it’s not the same one we know.) Instead Comte, Leo, and Arthur are stand alone suitors who have turned MC into a vampire. Because MC has no clear memory of how and/or why it happened, MC is seeking vengeance against her paired hottie--and fully intends to end their life one way or another.

Aside from how sexy revenge is and how much I love the enemies to lovers trope, Comte’s entire storyline gave me more life than I can humanly convey. Here goes nothing!

So it begins with MC knocking on his door and Comte answers it and literally just stares at her silently like some kind of Furby. MC starts out by saying she’s been trying to narrow down the bastard that ruined her life and her search has finally brought her to his doorstep. She basically demands the truth from him and he just keeps. Staring owlishly (lmao). He eventually relents and tells her that a conversation is much better held inside, and invites her into his home to talk. 

She's sus as hell but enters the house, and he asks if she's had blood. This stops her in her tracks, shook, and her monologue drifts to explain a few things. When she woke up years ago, a new vampire, she had instructions to approach the Rouge/Blanc dispensary for what she needed. The staff there told her that everything was paid for, and she continued to receive support from an unnamed benefactor. She asked them for the identity of this person, but they were beholden to customer confidentiality. As such, she's been searching for information to narrow down her target for years until she finally found him tonight.

Despite the years it doesn't mean she's any more comfortable with her new existence. She notes that she still tends to stick to drinking Blanc--only drinking Rouge (in other words, blood) when she has no other choice. When Comte puts the Rouge on the table, she becomes notably unsettled. She's thirsty, but she won't concede to his request that she drink it; she refuses.

(I feel like he can probably tell because he's her sire/because of his experience with vampires). Comte--naturally--refuses to let her go hungry, so he knocks it back and kisses her to get her to drink it. He lets go as soon as she's swallowed it, and doesn't resist when she shoves him off. She rails at him about how awful he is for doing that, he agrees. She asks if he was the one that killed her parents, he confirms with blasé indifference. She's fuming quietly, but she notes that he doesn't really look happy or triumphant about it. What he's saying isn't reaching his eyes; his gaze is distant and sad. And it's confusing her. Isn't he supposed to be the enemy?

She's lost in her thoughts and unresponsive until there's a loud cry from outside the house, the shriek of a nearby owl. She snaps out of her daze to see that she still has his hand in a vice grip from when she shoved him off, and his skin is blanched--she cut off his circulation from the pressure. She releases him, startled, but he says nothing. 

She's trying to sort out what's going on, and doesn't have enough information to really piece anything together. She wants to hate him but things aren't making sense. Why did her parents have to die in the first place? Why does he bother keeping her alive at his own expense? Even just now, what he did felt more like an attempt to get her to eat than anything else. Why isn’t he more malicious? This MC is desperate for answers, and she says as much: "What are you hiding…?" 

Comte doesn't answer her, just averts his gaze and remains silent. MC decides she won't do anything until she learns the full extent of what happened the night she was turned. Furthermore, she's well aware of Comte’s status being a problem. If she goes too far without proper motive, the aristocracy could come back to bite her in the ass. (The implication here is that she's more concerned about being wrong and living with that regret, rather than any necessity to protect herself. The state of his gaze--the melancholy there--keeps eating at her. Until she knows why, she won't move forward.) 

Comte is shocked that she demands to live alongside him in the mansion, but he doesn't take any issue with it. He says the mansion is pointlessly huge for one person anyway--she's welcome to stay. Either way she wins with this arrangement: either she gets the truth or she finds an effective way to destroy him by the end. And so their little cohabitation begins!

After a timeskip, MC recounts how she's been spending her days in the mansion. She's been tidying around the house, both in the hopes of finding evidence and/or in the hopes of repaying all the years of living on his assistance. He doesn't stop her, letting her do as she pleases and keeping his distance.

One day, she's about to step out into town to grab some groceries. Comte approaches at the front door, cautioning her to be safe--there have been many reports of scuffles/dangerous encounters. MC brushes him off, unsurprised he knows what's going on in town. He's very well connected to the aristocracy, and she notes that he's often at dinner gatherings and parties when he's not home. She insists she can't let her guard down, that he can't be trusted; no matter how kind he is to her face.

Another day, he asks her to attend a ball later in the week. He tells her she's under no obligation to stay with him while they're there, just that he wants her to take some time and relax--to have fun. She tries to insist that going to something like that would be more stressful than fun but he won’t hear of any protest, walking away before she can fully reject the outing. (Comte, an idiot, speed-walking out of the room: and that is what we call finessed). She sighs, thinking she'll be nothing but a burden to him given her lack of knowledge about events like that. She doesn't really know the proper etiquette or how to dance, it’s completely out of her depth.

Surprising no one at all Comte buys MC a dress and accessories to match regardless, and when she comes down the staircase leading to the front door he's awestruck. He tells her she's beautiful and she's miffed by the raw sincerity, trying to remind herself that he is eeeeevil. He knows how to talk to women given his status, he's just smooth talking... (She's trying to convince herself, essentially.)

And so they go, and she's a bit of a wallflower. He leaves her alone--doesn't want to bother her--while she sticks close to one wall. Several men ask her to dance, but she politely declines. Her monologue explains that, given what she is and the fact that she’s only living for revenge, she sees no merit in trying to court human men. She sees it as irresponsible and inevitably disastrous, and…

[Given the nature of what I am I just can't. I can't fall in love with a human man. Besides, the only person I really want to dance with is...as much as I hate it, my line of sight keeps drifting to Comte. Suddenly he looks up and meets my gaze, but I hurriedly look away--my heart pounding in my chest. Why. In a room full to the brim with people, why do my eyes keep looking for him. Whatever, time to go cool off for a bit.]

She leaves the ballroom--mortified at herself--to get some fresh air. Not five minutes into trying to figure out whatever the hell is going on with her shitshow of a life, a man appears asking what she’s doing alone. And da da da d a Zelda treasure chest sound effect he whips out a knife covered in blood and tries to stab MC. Naturally, because I’m an idiot, my first thought was:

TW: knife attack

TW: homicides by serial killer

But it turns out our local serial killer remains nameless in this event, so I can point no fingers. MC is panicking about needing to run and frozen in place from the shock, but Comte appears to pull her out of range--knife sinking into his back. He doesn’t react much to the violence as the attacker runs away, yanking out the knife and focused on checking her for any wounds. She’s still reeling from how quickly he reacted, and he reassures her (probably at the sight of her bewildered/worried look) that law enforcement is on alert in the area. They’ll find him, they’ll arrest him. 

She tries to ask him why. Why would he protect her like that? His first instinct was to take the hit and ensure her safety first, and it doesn’t make sense. Comte reassures her again, joking that purebloods are sturdy. See? The wound’s already healed c:

[Even though I've been spending all this time trying to get my revenge on him, my heart stopped when he was attacked. As if to reassure me, frozen and speechless, Comte smiles gently. This person.......I can't do it. I can't kill him without meaning, without being sure of the truth.]

"...Comte, I can tell you're a good person. What happened that night, so many years ago?" Because even now, he's still protecting me. "Please...tell me the truth. I want to know." 

[I know this isn't the time or place, but if I don't know I can't worry about him with a clear head.]

TW: human trafficking and drugging unconscious

Comte concedes and goes into what happened that night so many years ago. Apparently he was acquainted with her parents long before the incident, and they fell into debt as a result of gambling. He approached their home in the hopes of paying them a visit, checking up on them, only to encounter tragedy. They intended to sell their daughter off and the man they ended up making a deal with more or less slaughtered them all in cold blood. The reason MC doesn’t remember any of this was because her parents drugged her the night it happened. No consciousness, no resistance.

"In that room suffused in the odor of blood and despair, I found you, MC." Her pained, struggling cry is what led him into that room--and seeing how desperately she was fighting to survive, he turned her against all his better judgement. Feeling certain she would hate him forever for the choice he made compounded by her terrible circumstance, he bailed, leaving her instructions and resources to survive on her own. 

"Sold off by your own parents, attacked by a serial killer, seconds from death. I thought....I thought telling you about it would only bring you pain, that it would leave you numb from the shock and despair. That's why I kept it from you.”

"...After turning you, I was consumed by regret. I felt certain you would hate me for the choice I made. So I left." [When I don't know what to say, he keeps talking.] "But I was worried about you even so. I tailed you quietly, making sure you were getting along okay. I was fully aware you wanted to kill me for what I'd done. Even so, I wanted to check on you." 

And that is where the line comes in.

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

He admits that he fell in love with her after a point. And she’s baffled, considering she’s been looking for every reason to tear him apart--assuming he was the perpetrator when he actually saved her life. She protests immediately, asking how he could possibly feel that way after the level of vitriol and judgement she’s levied against him when he was only trying to help.

"That's not true at all. At heart, you're a very kind young lady. You haven't raised a hand against me all this time. And even when you considered me to be a repulsive presence, you were worried about me." 

At this MC is conflicted--because his words are a further extension of his equanimity. He’s well aware that he brought about all the confusion by not being honest, but it’s also clear there was no ill intent involved in that decision. He was concerned; hitting her with that level of misfortune and senseless terror all at once could have been incredibly destructive to her health. (This isn’t to say he made the ‘right’ decision; I don’t think there is any right decision in the face of such a complex situation. Given he takes full responsibility for what happened and does his best to help her, I think that’s a fair response.)

This is essentially where the common rt ends. But because I’m feral for Comte and enjoy talking about him, I’ll finish up the summary and then go on to do my analysis.

After that riveting assault, MC is feeling very lost about how to move forward. Her fury at Comte’s injustice has all but evaporated, which means a complete re-evaluation of how she’s going to move forward from now on. Does she continue with her revenge anyway, still angry for the dishonesty? Or does she try something new?

If you do the premium end that means choosing to forgive Comte and climb him (as he deserves). Therefore I, being an intellectual, chose to ride him into the sunset.

The premium end begins with Comte taking her to another ball because the first one kind of went to shit and he feels bad about it (retraumatization was not in the plan...). And so MC basically does the same thing as the first time, just vibin and taking in the scenery, thinking things over. Comte’s concerned about her not having fun, so he approaches her to ask if she’s feeling okay. He makes it clear that he really doesn’t mind if she dances with someone else--even if he admitted his feelings for her. She doesn’t owe him anything, and he has no intention of imposing on her future.

"Whatever it is you choose to do, I don't mind. I just want you to be happy"

[This person is so, so gentle...His words penetrate deep and settle with warmth over my heart, my chest light.] "Comte I.......I don't want to dance with anyone but you." [I still don't know what to do about the future, but for now I think following what my heart is telling me is the best move] 

"!!!....well then, if you insist..."

Comte’s just:

He’s beyond shocked, but accepts her invitation when she confirms it’s what she wants to do. Leading her in all his infinite grace, MC marvels at his ability to dance so elegantly--even with a partner who’s deadweight, like her. She also finds it astounding how easily he makes her forget what they are, how easily she just enjoys the moment; no turmoil, no lingering in the worst of her miseries. She’s just...having fun? For the first time in so very long.

[Comte murmurs in the short distance, clear remorse on his face--as though he can't help it.] 

"MC, it's kind of you, honestly. That you'd give me the time of day, that you'd agree to dance with me. But I...I'm the one that turned you. There's no denying or escaping that fact. If it's you, I'm ready to accept any consequence. If you want me gone, you're free to attack me. If you just want to be as far away from me as possible--to live your life in peace and solitude--I will do everything in my power to help you." 

[He said it as if he was trying to convince himself. Like he was trying to remember why he couldn't assume more of this single dance together, why he couldn't let hope emerge from this single shared moment.] 

[.....I'm not that kind, Comte. I asked because it's you.....Feeling his warmth beneath my hands, I come to a decision.]

There’s a timeskip, and then MC--being the badass that she is--knocks on Comte’s door the night of the crescent moon. He lets her inside more than ready to accept her judgement, whatever it may be. MC asks about his feelings, seeks to confirm that he still loves her before she confesses herself. 

"Comte. Comte you said--that you loved me right?" 

"Yes that's correct...no matter how much you might hate me, these feelings won't change. I love you." 

[Hearing those words again sets my chest on fire. And I decide to tell him my honest feelings.] 

"I love you too. But......I've held a misguided grudge against you for so long, is it okay for me to love you now?" 

[Can that misunderstanding really be forgiven? Am I allowed to love you? Comte's eyes widen, and the breathtaking gold of his eyes shimmer/waver.] 

"...shouldn't that be my line? I mean even despite the circumstances, I still made the choice to turn you :o Can you really forgive me?" 

"...If I'm honest, I still have a hard time drinking blood and I'm a little scared of an immortal life. But......I think if I could spend that eternity at your side, I could find the means to smile again. And....the thing is....I also want to see you smile, to make sure you remember how to smile." 

".................." [Le Comte stared at me, before extending his hand. And he hugged me so, so tightly.] "MC......." 

[In that single word all the raw emotion of ten years can be heard. It was an indescribable sound--one that spoke of an unimaginable, impossible love. This person loves me so very dearly.]

The event ends with them biting each other as proof of their bond, essentially a vow to stay together moving forward. It felt very much like the shared act of biting was a promise of love, how vampires might get married or commit to each other romantically. The summary essentially ends here.

Here’s where the semi-meta comes in, because I literally just can’t stop thinking about the implications of this event. 

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

I just...I just don’t even know where to begin with how hard this line hits. Comte’s MS conveys this sentiment powerfully too, but there’s just something about them choosing to emphasize it yet again. The reason Comte falls in love every time has to do with his MC’s strength, her ability to surmount remarkable obstacles with so much poise. She’s deeply in tune with her reality, but no less relentlessly positive. She won’t burden others with her problems, and she’ll do everything in her power to move forward in constructive ways.

Even when every day was a living hell. Both Comte and Leonardo perceive eternity to be something of a curse; an endless sentence. Whether it means suffering boredom, reliving tragedy, or going nigh numb from the loneliness--being an immortal creature isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. 

And that’s exactly why I think he fell in love with this MC? I don’t think his feelings would have run half as deep if it was just anyone. He doesn’t strike me as the type to get attached easily. Because if he’s going to have a life partner, he needs someone who's going to be able to roll with whatever life throws their way for conceivable lifetimes. Somebody that loses heart quickly or is easily prone to delusion would suffer eternally, and the last thing he wants is to subject a person to that. MC gives him hope certainly, but she’s also emblematic of a kind of fortitude he both needs on a personal level and she would need to be beside him. It’s interesting because it’s a responsible choice on his part, but also just very befitting of his nature. He’s somebody that staunchly believes in the ability of good to prevail, but he’s also realistic about it. He knows doing the right thing isn’t necessarily easy; he does it because he could never live with himself if he did otherwise. 

(Think about Comte’s approach with Jeanne. It meant years of being on the receiving end of hatred he didn’t deserve, but he didn’t mind if it meant Jeanne could find a way to heal. It’s not the most practical or immediate solution, but it is the most restorative option. Comte doesn’t care that he spends years living alongside Jeanne’s outspoken displeasure and even violent outbursts. Why? Because it’s all a means to a greater, better end. If he has to suffer a little discomfort, he’s willing to make that sacrifice. That’s the thing with Comte; intentionality is everything. Comte’s intention is to help. Whether that’s a short or long process, a smooth or rough process, he’s going to do what he can within his means.)

That dynamic is reflected in his respect for this MC who is filled with fury on behalf of all the life that she lost unfairly, her relentless pursuit for the truth of what happened to her. Notice, she’s more interested in truth than retaliation. She refuses to lay an intentionally violent hand on Comte until she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was worthy of being on the receiving end of that retribution. Who does that sound like? If you guessed Comte himself, then you see where I’m going with this. What MC and Comte have in common is that they have a sharp emotional fortitude that they keep under tight, rational control. They will react with sizable passion or hurt or warmth--but their externalized reaction will vary depending on the situation. If it’s a minor annoyance, they have the patience to diffuse and try to alleviate the problem. If it’s on a larger scale or it’s an egregious violation of their personhood, then they up the ante accordingly.

Think about it. MC appears on Comte’s doorstep full of righteous rage and even when he confirms what he’s “done,” she hesitates. Her emotional intelligence is telling her something isn’t aligning properly; something isn’t quite right. She forgoes immediate revenge for proper answers instead. MC and Comte have this kind of balance, where they are more than happy to hear people out--but there is a limit to that propensity. Push them too far? They’ll bust your head. I guess I’m particularly interested in the way Comte seems to yearn for that kind of identification with a partner. Somebody who has similar values: not merciless, but also won’t bend when a situation requires confrontation.

All that being said, there was one more aspect of the story that I was endlessly interested in. I’m going to link the post here, in that it’s tangentially related to this meta; it really made me better able to articulate what I mean to say. 

“Never let generosity hold hostages; courtesy is an essential tool, but a cruel master.”

I’m gonna let that sink in for a moment.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, because it’s very rare that I read something once and I’m forced to read it several more times before I begin to understand it. My interpretation of that line is to say that benevolence can showcase your good will to others; it can be a reliable proof of good character, and a way to help someone. But the problem comes when people do conventionally/perceived generous things with the explicit intent of repayment by some measure. While it is only responsible to care for others as they care for you, you shouldn’t make impossible sacrifices with the expectation that the other person is indebted to you--especially if the other party had no ability to consent to that sacrifice.

How does this apply to Comte in this event story? Er, in almost every way humanly (vampirely?) possible, in my view. Comte turns MC into a vampire after seeing her plight, largely because he gets the impression that she was fighting for her life--had impossibly survived against all odds. The situation is complicated though. MC wasn’t fully conscious when it happened, so she doesn’t have a proper understanding of how everything went down. So what does Comte do? If he can’t bear to face her or reveal the truth of how horribly she died, he at least gives her every means to survive and makes sure she’s doing okay since she’s technically an orphan now. He doesn’t interfere with her life, or demand recognition for the life he gave her. He fully understands that she wasn’t able to properly consent to his decision in that split second moment, and even if she had he doesn’t see it as a debt she owes him now. He was able to help save her life for at least a little while longer, and so he did. It was as simple as that. He had the ability, she had the need. That’s the end.

But Comte’s emotional acuity doesn’t just end here. Even when she comes after him to kill him, he doesn’t respond with anger because he knows full well he hasn’t explained. Sure he’s sacrificing their relationship (the ability to get along on half-decent terms) but if it means she can find a reason to live, then so be it. He doesn’t lord that sacrifice over her head by any extension; he’s just sad about it because he thinks she’s a wonderful person, and he doesn’t want to be estranged from her. But in his view, her needs supercede his wants.

He doesn’t force her to do chores around the house during her stay, she does it to keep herself busy and search for the truth about his intentions. He even asks her to take breaks and look after herself first, more concerned with her well-being than the state of the mansion. At the ball, he doesn’t force her to linger around him or dance with him despite inviting her there and giving her the dress/jewelry to attend. He leaves her alone as she wishes, only glancing at her to make sure she’s doing okay. When he takes the hit from the violent stranger--a knife straight to the back--he jokes about being s t r o n k, never once blaming her for the wound he sustains no matter how brief.

He explains that he didn’t tell her the truth because it was incredibly traumatic, and it’s only in the safety of the moment--after years of having conceived of her own selfhood beyond the event--that she’s able to take the weight of what happened without falling apart. The premium end just keeps hammering this shit home. He openly tells her she doesn’t have to dance with him at all, that she doesn’t owe him anything just because he likes her. He’s aware it’s unrequited (he thinks) and he doesn’t go on and on about all the sacrifices he made for her with the expectation she’ll reciprocate. He just did what he wanted to do, nothing more. If she feels the same way by some miracle, that’s amazing! If she doesn’t, as it would be valid if not, that’s fair too; no hard feelings.

She has to be the one to invite him to dance and insist. She’s the one that smiles fondly when he’s telling her that she can choose whatever outcome she pleases, even if it means wanting to live as far as possible from him. There is no guilt trip, no expectation, and no pressure. She has the freedom to leave or stay. It is entirely dependent on her own will. For the first time in a lifetime of loss, her agency is restored to her. That’s huge.

She even admits that she feels bad about being so angry when he really was just trying to help, now that she can understand what he’s doing. And he’s openly shocked to hear it. He had no intention of expecting or asking for an apology. He understands it was his own imposition, both biting her and obscuring the truth, that led to her setting her mind on vengeance. 

I’ve probably hit it home harder than necessary, but Comte just feels like the epitome of good will in the best way possible. One can argue he’s a little selfish for keeping the truth from her for so long, but honestly? Given the horrific trauma of her situation--and his personal fear of making her miserable for an eternity when all he wanted was to give her a second chance away from all that hurt--I feel like his reaction was closer to considerate and reasonable. Comte doesn’t sacrifice anything he isn’t unwilling to give, or anything that would cripple him to give. Furthermore, he doesn’t make love out to be a kind of 1:1. He recognizes that while he might know her well, she doesn’t know squat about him. And, as such, he doesn’t expect her to trust his intentions or reciprocate his feelings in any capacity. It’s just a delightful surprise when she does. When he tells her that he loves her that first time, it’s an explanation. Not a guilt trip. He knows she won’t be satisfied years of protecting her simply because “he wanted to” and he promised her the truth, so he tells her. Not only that, in the aftermath he repeatedly reminds her she isn’t bound to him. She commits to him before he relies on any kind of active bond between both of them.

I don’t know, maybe I think too hard about it, but I feel like the older I get the more I see a shortage of this kind of fine-tuned caring about the other person in a relationship. I guess I just enjoy seeing a man give a woman her health and agency without treating her wellness/happiness like it’s a burden to his life? First and foremost Comte really is concerned with her self-actualization before his feelings can have any place in their relationship. And even when he does confess his love, it isn’t a way to force her to feel indebted to him; it’s an attempt to erase any false pretenses. MC loves him, not because she has nowhere else to go, but because he’s proven himself time and again a worthy companion. Always putting her first, always worried about her feelings, paying such close attention that he sees her to the core of who she is despite her iron front--kind, beneath all that hurt. They spend so much of this event really listening to each other despite such difficult circumstances, and it leads to a deep and abiding love against all odds. And I find that incredibly moving...

Oh and, before I forget? Let me circle back for a moment:

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

The best part about this event is that--while Comte says this about MC--this is also precisely the reason MC falls in love with Comte too, even if it’s never stated outright. Because despite how lonely and tired he may be of eternity, no matter how many troubles he’s facing himself, he never stops trying to help and support others (namely MC) in any way he can.

Drops mic

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 9

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning: for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Bedroom - Present Days

What did dying feels like? Bela couldn't remember the day she died, before she was turned. For many and many years, she wondered how it even happened. Maybe she was incurably ill. That would be the only plausible explanation on why Lady Dimitrescu decided to transform her into a vampire. Having an illness herself, she must've felt sorry for Bela being so young and already losing her life.

But that night, after being drugged by Mother Miranda, the memory from that tragic event returned to her memory stronger like never.

It was a cold night in the 1950's. Alcina threw a special dinner and invited her three favorite and most loyal servants. Three young girls. They felt honored sitting at the same table as their mistress. They were chatting and giggling but then... something started to feel strange. Starting by the fact none of the servants were around.

It began as a burning sensation in Bela's stomach. She tried to ignore it but it'd only grow stronger. She dropped the silverware she was holding. She attempted to swallow another sip of tea. By her side, she noticed one of the other two girls, the brunette one, starting to show signs of discomfort too.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Lady Dimitrescu asked when the red haired girl, the youngest of the three, started coughing.

"I can't..." she tried to answer, but the words got lost in her throat as she began to suffocate, "b-breathe..."

Bela tried to stand up and help her, but her surroundings started to spin. She held on the table for support. At this point, the brunette girl was already lying on the floor, having some kind of seizure. She looked at Lady Dimitrescu again, but she didn't seem to be worried. She seemed abnormally calm.

"W-What have you..." before she could finish the question, her lungs could no longer fill with oxygen. Her throat and her airways started to burn. She tried and tried to breathe, but it seemed impossible. The weakness started on her legs and spread to the rest of her body really quickly. In fact, she barely felt when she collapsed on the floor. When the seizures started, she was barely conscious. Her vision was already going black, but she still had time to see the Countess staring at her body, almost lifeless, as she said:

"Don't worry, daughter. Everything will be alright."

Poisoned. She was poisoned.

When Bela woke up it was already morning. She could tell by the rays of sunlight entering through the windows. She hadn't died this time, but the sensations she experienced were quite similar. Her head was aching intensely and her vision was still blurred. Whatever Miranda had injected in her blood had affected her senses very badly.

"Aleena," she finally remembered. She tried to get up but her legs were still weak. "I need to find her."

She kept moving slowly, using the walls and furniture for support. If only she could transform into flies, it would be a lot easier, but it hurt to even try.

"Fuck!" Bela cursed, frustrated. She threw herself on a couch for a moment. She needed to rest.

Her eyes analyzed her surroundings. Although Bela was in her mother's chambers, Lady Dimitrescu was nowhere to be seen.

Hours had passed since she was drugged. Anything could've happened during this time. She wondered if Aleena was still there and if she was okay. She had to be. But what if she slept for days? What if the ritual had already happened? Aleena could be dead in that exact moment and she wasn't there to protect her. That thought made her stomach feel sick. And rare were the occasions she felt sick after being turned.

"Bela!" Daniela opened the door, she seemed so confused and scared as she was. "There you are, sister! Oh my god, I was starting to think you were dead."

"You wish..." Bela moaned sarcastically. She couldn't miss the opportunity. "What the fuck happened, Dani? Where's that bitch?"

"Who? Cassandra?"

Daniela handed her a cup full of human blood. Bela drank it all in one sip. That was the only thing able to restore her body from the damage Miranda caused.

Cassandra. She remembered her middle sister being the one who told her to go to her mother's office. Traitor! She should've known when she appeared to be so supportive of her relationship with Aleena in the previous day.

"No, Mother Miranda."

"Mother Miranda was here?"

Before she could answer, the door opened with a slam. It was Cassandra, looking completely fine. She had blood around her mouth and all over her dress. In a blink of an eye, Bela lunged forward, pinning her against the wall.

"How could you?!" She yelled. "You sent me directly to a trap!"

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra argued. "Somebody caught me on a corridor and stabbed my neck with a needle, then I passed out."

"Come on, don't lie to us," Daniela shouted. "You entered my room last night and drugged me."

"And why I would even do this to both of you?"

Realizing what happened, Bela immediately let her go.

"Mother Miranda," she huffed. "She must have shapeshifted into you and attacked us all."

It was time to tell her sisters what she learned from Heisenberg. Miranda had already started to proceed with her plans and it was a matter of time before she attempted to kill them.

"This bitch is going to die!" Cassandra punched the wall. "Nobody pretends to be me and lives."

"This is the least of our problems," Bela said. "She can be anywhere right now, pretending to be someone we trust and ready to kill us all."

"Where's mom?" Daniela asked. "I couldn't find her anywhere."

Lady Dimitrescu was the last person Bela wanted to see. She lied and betrayed her, besides helping Mother Miranda to drug her.

"I don't know, I searched for her everywhere," Cassandra told. "On the bright side, there's fresh breakfast spread all around the castle."

"What do you mean, Cassandra?" Bela wanted to know.

"The servants. They're all dead."

"What about Aleena? Have you seen her?"

"No, I thought she was with you."

Bela transformed into flies and went straight to Aleena's bedroom. It was completely empty. The bed was still made as in the previous night. She went to her own bedroom next. The diary was opened on the bed, right on the pages where her father confirmed what Miranda told her in the office, Aleena was indeed the vessel.

Mrs. Volkov corpse was lying on the corridor and not so far away, there was a trail of blood, Aleena's blood. She froze in place, too terrified to even think.

"It doesn't mean anything," Daniela placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe she managed to escape."

"She probably did, that girl is fierce," Cassandra added, noticing how disturbed her older sister looked. "I mean, she's not one of the Lords or a servant. There's no reason for that crazy bitch to murder her."

"There is," Bela sighed deeply. "She's the vessel. Miranda was playing us like puppets. The goblet thing was already intentional, to bring Aleena to the castle where she'd be safe until she prepared the ritual."

"Oh fuck, this is bad."

"I... I'm going to the village. Maybe she's hiding in her house."

----------

Eastern Europe, Village - Present Days

When Bela left, she didn't even bother to check the temperature or to mount one of her horses. She transformed into flies and started to fly to the village as fast as she could. Everything that mattered was finding Aleena. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. They were going to California together and they'd start a brand new life.

She stopped by her house first. The door was locked and the extra key hidden in a vase at the entrance, just where Aleena placed it before they returned to the castle.

"It doesn't mean she's not here," Bela tried to convince herself. "She must have found another way in, to not make it obvious she's hiding here."

She used the key to open the front door. The house was dark and silent. There weren't any signs of somebody's recent presence. She checked every room, the basement, the secret weapon storage... Aleena definitely wasn't there.

"Maybe she's at the pub or at one of her friends' houses," Bela concluded.

There was no way. She had to do that. She took a deep breath, gathering enough courage to enter the pub. There were only three people in there, a middle aged woman behind the counter, a blonde young male cleaning the tables and a girl, who was strangely similar to Cassandra, chatting to both of them. Bela recognized them from the pictures Aleena showed her. They were Olga, Gustav and Elena.

"Hello," she announced her presence. They all stopped to stare at her, but none of them had freaked out yet. Maybe they hadn't noticed the tattoo.

"How can we help you, darling?" The older woman asked. "Are you a foreigner?"

"I... uhh... I'm looking for Aleena Novak."

"She isn't here," it was the boy who answered this time. He had a lot of anger in his voice. "She was taken to Castle Dimitrescu a few weeks ago. We don't even know if she's still alive."

"She is," Bela told. "I've been taking care of her."

They finally understood. Their expressions all changed to pure terror and panic. The two younger adults hid behind the counter, together with the woman. The male grabbed a shotgun.

"Get the hell out of here!" He ordered. "And if Aleena escaped, don't you even dare to touch her again or I'll kill you. I'll find her and bring her home."

"Trust me, manthing. This is exactly what I'm planning to do. Mother Miranda has kidnapped her. She has been planning to sacrifice her in some kind of sick ritual tonight."

"Liar!" Cassandra's doppelgänger shouted. "Mother Miranda wouldn't do such a thing! She's always guiding and protecting us. Everything she does is for the best of all of us."

"Listen, little one," Bela exhaled deeply. She had no patience for humans. That was the reason why she avoided them. They'd usually annoy her to the point they became her prey. "I have proof. Aleena's father has left this diary, reporting everything."

"That man was insane. Most of the villagers hated him."

"But he never lied," Gustav spoke. "Adrian had some crazy theories nobody ever believed but... I've never seen him lying before. He was a man of his word."

"This is true," Olga added. "We grew up together. He was absolutely nasty, a real bastard, but not a liar. He wouldn't invent such a thing, especially when it came to protecting Aleena."

Olga locked the door and the group reunited in one of the tables, analyzing the notes Adrian Novak left.

"Fuck," Gustav cursed, while trying to speak on his phone. "Auryk must've gone after this contacts. I can't reach him."

"Do you have any ideas of where Aleena could've gone to, if she was trying to hide?" Bela asked.

"Other than our houses and the pub? Well... we had this fort in the woods when we were children. Maybe she's hiding there."

"Show me the way, little man."

But Gustav wasn't the one who was most familiar with the path to Aleena's childhood fort, it was Elena. The young woman followed them, complaining about literally everything and praising Mother Miranda.

"Mother Miranda would never do that!" Elena protested. "I'd trust her with my life."

"I was about your age when she did this to me, without my consent," Bela took off the hat she was wearing, exposing her scar. "And do you think immortality is a blessing? Try spending your life locked inside a castle, without being able to go outside most of the time."

"Why are we even trusting her, Gustav? She feeds on human blood and now we're alone with her in the middle of nowhere."

"If that makes you feel more comfortable, I've already had breakfast. Besides, I prefer drinking men's blood."

"Can we just focus on Aleena?" Gustav scolded both of them. Bela had finally found a man she respected. That boy was completely loyal and protective of her girlfriend, so he deserved some credit. "God knows why Bela is searching for her but... we have the same goal here."

"We're dating," Bela informed them of the latest news. "I love her. For real."

Both of the young humans stared at her in shock.

"It seems like we'll have a lot to catch up when I see Aleena again," the boy shook his head in disbelief. "I thought the vampire thing was just a phase."

They finally found the small wooden fortress in the middle of the woods. It was mostly destroyed, but it still could fit one adult person inside it.

"Aleena!" Gustav called. There was no answer. Still, Aleena was hurt. Maybe she was unconscious.

"Go," Bela poked Elena and ordered. "You're the shortest of us. Check if she's in there."

The girl rolled her eyes, but obeyed, ducking and entering the small fort. But there wasn't even a sign Aleena was there recently.

"Where do we search now?" Elena asked.

"I'll go to the other Lords," Bela told. "Maybe one of them is keeping her for Miranda. Thank you for your help, little humans. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Bela walked away from them. Maybe in another life, they could've been friends. The priority now was to find Aleena. She wondered if the girl went to Heisenberg seeking for protection or if Miranda had captured and taken her to that creepy cave. There wasn't much time to think, she needed to act.

She followed to Heisenberg's factory. As usual the man was swearing and torturing human beings on his basement.

"What brings you here, kid?" He asked. "Did you find the diaries?"

"Yes, but too late unfortunately," she answered. "The information we were searching for: all the women in Aleena's family have some kind of immunity against the creatures and their mutations. They healed after getting bitten by Lycans, Aleena healed when you attacked her... she's the vessel."

"We have to kill her immediately. Before Miranda puts her hands on her. If that happens, we're fucked."

"She already did. She showed up in the castle last night, drugged me and my sisters, killed the servants and now... I can't find Aleena anywhere."

"Girl, you had the opportunity in your hands," he clenched his fists. "If you had killed her, like you freaks do to every single human that steps into that castle, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Shut up, Heisenberg!" Bela grabbed a piece of metallic scrap from the floor and threw in the man's direction. "I had no idea. Even if I did, she's my girlfriend and I have to save her before she's sacrificed on Miranda's ritual."

"Good luck with that. The crazy bitch is very good hiding things."

And Bela knew that. Next, she went to Moreau's, Miranda's most loyal follower. She didn't reveal any information, she simply tricked him by inventing an excuse, that stupid freak was easy to fool. But Aleena certainly wasn't there either. Using her flies, she checked the entire place. She did the same at Donna's house. While she entertained the woman and her creepy doll having a tea party with them, her flies inspected every corner of her eerie house.

She was about to follow to Miranda's cave when she ran into Cassandra, in the middle of the way.

"What are you doing, Bela?" She asked. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?

"I'm searching for Aleena. She's gotta be somewhere and the last place I must check is the cave."

"Mother is home," her sister announced. "She wants to talk to you."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Living Room - Present Days

In Bela's imagination, Lady Dimitrescu would apologize. Admit she had made a huge mistake and promise her they'd find Aleena together. That was who her adoptive mother was, she'd always do anything to make her daughters happy. But at the same time, she was also that same woman from her memory. The selfish Countess who killed three young girls to have them as her adoptive daughters. She killed, violated and turned them into monsters. What kind of mother was that?

The three sisters were sitting on the couch, waiting as their mother brought a tray with tea and some other treats. That would probably be their only food for days, as Lady Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda had killed all the servants.

Lady Dimitrescu sat on an armchair in front of them, looking at Bela mostly.

"I understand you're confused, daughters. But I'll explain everything."

"Where's Aleena?" Bela quickly asked. That was the only thing that mattered. Who cared about Mother Miranda's child who died ages ago? "What have you two done to her?"

"Bela, daughter... I understand you're upset and frustrated. However, Mother Miranda has been searching for the perfect vessel to bring her daughter back to life for many and many years. This vessel happens to be Aleena. It's her fate, her purpose."

Bela eyes were burning in pure rage. How could Alcina be so blind? Even Heisenberg, that scumbag of man, was smarter than her mother was.

"Her fate is to live her own life, to go to California and achieve her dreams. Her fate is to be with me!"

"I apologize for having to get rid of all of our servants," she clearly ignored her daughter's objections. "They wouldn't understand what's to come. Once Eva is back to life, things will change. I'd like to ask you girls to behave and treat her well, like if she's a new sister of yours. We'll be throwing a party to welcome Eva to our family and I'll need your help to organize it."

"Party?!" Bela let out a sarcastic laugh. "Are you naive or only stupid? Miranda is going to kill you before this ritual is even finished! It has been her plan all along."

"Bela!" Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrowed and she raised her voice. "I'm your mother! You owe me some respect, little lady."

"I don't! Not when you drugged me and let Miranda kidnap my girlfriend. I want to know where she is."

"Daughter..." Alcina grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered her voice. An useless attempt to help her to calm down. "Aleena is gone. She's dead."

The world seemed to stop. As well as the clock. The voices. Everything. Not even Bela's brain was capable of working and processing the words she had just listened. Dead. Aleena was dead. Her Aleena. Her girlfriend. The woman she loved. She stopped breathing. Her stomach ached as much as in the night she was poisoned. She felt she was about to collapse and die again. Her heart was beating in a strange manner. It was out of control. She was out of control.

Bela raised her golden yellow eyes, filled with hateful tears and stared directly into Lady Dimitrescu's eyes.

"You..." she clenched her fists. "You lied to me... You betrayed me..."

"I was willing to let her live, daughter," the woman tried to excuse herself. "Until the last meeting. Mother Miranda told me the truth and asked me to give her the vessel."

"HER NAME WAS ALEENA," using her strength, Bela grabbed the heavy coffee table and threw it across the room, shocking her mother and sisters. "She had a name! She was NOT a vessel."

Very rare were the times Bela actually cried after being turned. She cried when she first woke up in excruciating pain, with that huge wound on the side of her head. She cried later, when she felt lost, without knowing who or what she was. And she was crying now. Without Aleena, she felt lost again. She had nothing left. She no longer wished to live. A life without that girl's contagious joy, optimism and bravery was meaningless.

"Bela..." Lady Dimitrescu tried to touch her, comfort her somehow, but the blonde girl slapped her hand away.

"I always did everything you asked me... I always tried to be the perfect daughter for you... AND FOR WHAT?" Bela sobbed. "The only thing I ever ask you, you denied me. You took Aleena from me. You chose Miranda over your own daughter!"

"I had no choice, daughter! She'd turn against us if I refused to give her Aleena. Who knows what she'd be capable of doing?"

"She's doing it anyways. She's going to kill us all now she's gotten what she wanted."

She started to walk away. She had to be alone. As far away as possible from that woman, from that family, from that stupid castle. That small bed & breakfast at the village seemed like a good option.

"Daughter, wait," Alcina went after her, as she entered her bedroom.

"Don't you ever call me daughter again, Lady Dimitrescu," Bela angered. "I'm not your daughter. You kidnapped, killed me and turned me into a monster. Who knows what you've done to my real parents. We're not your daughters, we're only your toys, your dolls. You're not that different from your sister, Donna, after all."

She slammed the door and locked it. The bedroom was still the same way they left in the previous night. The candles, the flowers, the discs... Aleena's perfume was still on her pillows. Bela threw herself on the bed, holding the pillow against her body as she cried uncontrollably.

This was all her fault. They should've finished reading the diaries earlier and found out the truth before Miranda's visit, but she distracted Aleena, wishing to spend as much time with her as possible before she left to California. She should've been there to protect her, she promised it. She shouldn't have trusted the woman she used to call 'mother'. She was an idiot and now, Aleena was gone. Forever.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

Memories. Only a few days earlier Bela was afraid memories would be everything she'd have left from Aleena and now, it really was. Without anybody noticing, she went to the guest room the girl had been staying during those weeks in the castle. She obviously wasn't there, but traits of her presence were still all around.

Her clothes were still in the closet. Some where lying on the armchair or even around the floor. Bela grabbed one of her t-shirts, one from Aleena's favorite TV show. It still had her perfume on it.

"I miss you, love," she inhaled deeply the sweet fragrance. "So much it's killing me."

Then, she took the sketch book from the desk. Aleena was the most talented artist Bela had ever met. Her sister, Daniela, was a good artist, but she wasn't so creative, so expressive and precise on her traces. Bela had many classes with Lady Dimitrescu, and though she could paint decently, it wasn't her strong suit.

The drawing was still there. The one Aleena where was drawing her face. The reason why they kissed that night in the library, when she said Bela was worth being remembered.

"And now I'm the one who have nothing to remind me of you, Aleena. Remind me of every detail of your perfect green eyes, your smooth brown hair and those sweet freckles all over your body."

Her cell phone was still inside the bedside table's drawer. Bela turned it on. Aleena had set a picture of them together as her lockscreen. She smiled. In the gallery, she found many and many pictures of all the days they spent together, since the lunch Bela threw on her birthday when she arrived.

There were videos too and as soon Bela heard Aleena's voice, she couldn't help but start crying again. Why did her mother betrayed her like that? She could've helped her to save Aleena. She could've helped them to take down Miranda. That was what a real mother was supposed to do!

"Hey," she rolled her eyes, noticing she had forgotten to lock the door again. Cassandra was standing right behind her. "I'm came here to check on you."

"Leave me alone, Cassandra," Bela angered. "You didn't even like her."

"This isn't true. Aleena wasn't my favorite person in the world, not that I have one by the way, but still... I didn't want her to die."

Bela ignored her. Cassandra didn't have maturity enough to understand how she was feeling. Sometimes she wondered if her sister was even able to feel empathy for another being. But then, she was surprised by her next move.

"I'm sorry," her middle sister touched her shoulder slightly, tenderly. "I know she made you happy. Deep down, I was rooting for you both."

She forced a small smile before pulling her sister for an embrace. It was probably the first time they exchanged such a genuine moment of affection.

"We'll make her pay," Cassandra stroked her hair. "Let's kill Bitch Miranda."

The three sisters gathered together in the library. Lady Dimitrescu couldn't be aware of their plans. Daniela revealed her sisters she once heard about a dagger their mother possessed, one that was able to kill any monsters and demons.

"Are you sure about this?" Bela asked to confirm. Daniela had a creative and delusional mind after all.

"Yes," her youngest sister said. "I stole one of her diaries once. She was reporting everything about this dagger, except for its location."

"Then I'll keep her distracted while you search for it," Cassandra suggested. "I'll pretend to help her with her party for Miranda's daughter rebirth."

"What about me?" Bela wanted to know.

"You're not okay, sister. Let us handle this. Save your strength for when we stab the bitch and end her for good."

"As long as you let me do the honors, it's fine by me."

That was it. Bela would pretend to be alright. She would pretend to forgive her mother. And when the time came, she'd get her revenge against Miranda.

But then... there was nothing left for her in this world. With Aleena gone, she lost her only chance of living a new and normal life. She lost the only thing that made her feel happy and human. And if the dagger could kill any monsters and demons, well... it would be able to kill her too.

Still holding Aleena's shirt against her body, Bela lay on the bed and fell asleep, thinking of the moment they'd be reunited again in death. However, she had a terrible nightmare. Aleena was dying in her arms and there was nothing she could do.

She got up and drank some water. It had been hours since Daniela left the room to search for the dagger. She wondered if something had gone wrong. Lady Dimitrescu would never agree with that plan. She was about to leave the bedroom when the red haired girl entered the room so excited she could barely breathe.

"Bela..." she panted, "I found her!"

"The dagger?!" Bela asked. "Where is it?"

"No! Aleena. She's alive in the dungeons!"

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Dungeons - Present Days

I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see anything. The environment around me was different from everywhere I had been in the last few weeks, the air was humid but still suffocating. It also smelled terribly, like rotting flesh and blood. I tried to stand up but my leg was still badly injured. I wondered how long it'd take for the amulet to heal my body again. Maybe it only worked once. Or maybe it had to do with the fluid Cassandra injected on me before she threw me inside that nasty cell.

Speaking of Bela's sister, I was pissed. Truly pissed. It was no secret she never liked me, but I never thought she'd be able to betray her own sister like that. Telling Bela to go to their mother's office only to bring me to the dungeons was a low blow, even for her. And there was Mrs. Volkov too. I couldn't believe she was dead.

"H-Help... somebody help me..."

I tried to scream but the blood loss and the drug made me too weak. I had to find a way out. A way to regain my forces and escape that place.

It didn't take long for me to lose my conscience again. As much as I attempted to stay awake and hear any signals someone could be around, I just couldn't. I was trapped in that endless cycle of waking up for a few minutes, moan in pain and passing out again. That was it. The Mother Miranda bitch was certainly behind it. When the right moment came, she'd come and take me for the ritual. Drugged as I was, I wouldn't be able to fight it.

"Aleena!" I heard Bela's voice, approaching. Maybe it was just another hallucination. "Oh my god!"

The cell's door opened, allowing some light to enter. I was able to distinguish my girlfriend's beautiful face among all that darkness.

"It's okay, love. You'll be okay, I promise you."

I forced a small smile as she placed my head on her lap. Using a blade, she opened a small gash on her wrist and forced it into my mouth.

"Drink it," Bela ordered. "My blood is going to heal your wounds and the drug effects."

I felt my stomach twisting from the metallic taste of blood going down my throat. I definitely wasn't born to be a vampire. For a second, I thought I was going to throw up.

"Shhhh," she held me still as the nausea struck. "Just breathe. Hold it down and you'll be okay."

I did as she told. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, the nausea was slowly going away. Bela started to caress my face and I felt as some warm tears dropped on my forehead.

"Hey, I'm just a little beaten up," I assured her. "But I'm starting to feel better."

"I... I thought you were dead. My mother told me you were dead."

Why would Lady Dimitrescu do such a thing? Of course, she needed to make sure Bela wouldn't ruin Miranda's plans. She needed to convince her to not search for me.

I was already strong enough to sit. I hugged Bela very very tightly. She was sobbing desperately. Her heart was beating so fast inside her chest, it seemed like it'd explode at any moment.

"I'm so sorry," I kissed her forehead. "I'm here and I'm not leaving you ever again. I promise."

"You're the vessel, Aleena," Bela told me. "Your body is immune to the attacks of any creatures in the village. And now Miranda wants to use you to bring her daughter back to life. She believes your body is going to accept the mutation."

She also told me about my amulet. Miranda was the one to sell it to Auryk. I immediately ripped it off from my neck.

"I knew about being the vessel. I discovered it right after you left the bedroom. My father knew it and Auryk did too, this is why he wanted to get me out of the country so badly."

Bela wasn't listening to me. She was still staring at my face in disbelief, her eyes glistening with tears from the relief of finding out I was still alive. She cupped my face between her hands and pressed her lips on mine multiple times.

"I'm going to fix this," she was still crying. "I promise you. We have a plan to kill Miranda. There's a dagger hidden here in the castle, it can kill any monsters or demons. Daniela is searching for it, while Cassandra is distracting my m-," she hesitated to say that word, "my mother."

"Okay, but Cassandra was the one to kill Mrs. Volkov to capture me. We can't trust her at all!"

Of course. The bitch had more tricks I wasn't even aware of. She could shapeshift. Now I finally knew how my father was probably killed or how Auryk obtained that amulet from her. It was also obvious who attacked the castle that morning, Miranda was willing to test my healing properties again.

"She didn't. Mother Miranda can shapeshift into any person, this is why we need to be careful. We have this safe word, to know we're the actual Dimitrescu sisters. It's 'blowfly'."

I sighed and attempted to break the tension.

"And how do you know I'm the real Aleena?" I smiled.

"Trust me, love. I know," Bela kissed me, slowly and passionate. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this. Imagine how disgusting it would be to kiss that crazy bitch."

We both broke into laughs. Then, she took my hand and helped me to stand up.

"We need to get you out of here. My mother can't know I've found you. Miranda is coming to pick you up at midnight for the ritual."

Through the secret passages we made to the stables, where Bela had already left my bags and a horse prepared to take me to the village.

"Once you get there," she told me. "Just drive as far as you can. Go to the city, find your brother and fly to United States."

And then I realized.

"But Bela... what about you?"

"I'm staying here, love. I'm going to kill Miranda, together with my sisters and Heisenberg."

"And then you'll meet me there, right?!" I raised my voice, fighting hard against the tears that insisted falling down. "You'll go to California."

She was in silence for a moment, trying to find the right words, but I already knew what she wanted to say. First, she handed me my cell phone.

"You said you wanted something to remember. Now you have plenty of pictures of me in this device of yours."

"Bela... what are you saying?"

"Let's be honest, Aleena," she looked down. "It was never a possibility and you knew it. We'd have to stop at the first temperature drop we came across. We probably wouldn't even make it to the airport."

"I said I'm going to find a way! It's Summer, dammit. It's not so cold away from the mountains and once we arrive in California, it'll be even hotter."

"You know your world would never accept me, love. Look at me, I have this nasty scar, this weird tattoo, I need to drink human blood to live..."

"STOP MAKING EXCUSES TO BREAK UP WITH ME! I'LL FIND A WAY! FOR ALL OF THIS. IF THEY CAN'T ACCEPT YOU, THEN FUCK THEM! I LOVE YOU AND IT'S ALL THAT MATTERS."

"I love you too," Bela kissed my forehead. "And this is why I'm letting you go."

"Even if I go, Bela," I argued, punching her shoulder slightly, "it doesn't have to end! I'm going to call you. I'm going to write you. And I'll come here to visit you too."

"In the first few weeks, love. Then, you'll become too busy to write. Our phone calls will become shorter because you'll be too tired. You'll disappear for a few days. We'll start to fade, little by little. And finally someday, you'll meet somebody new. Somebody who can make you laugh and distract you from your tragic past. Somebody who can take you to an actual date. Somebody you can introduce to your family and friends. Somebody who actually deserves you. Who can give you a future with marriage and children. Because she isn't dead. Because she isn't... me."

"I don't want any of this! I want you and only you. This future? We can have it! Here in this fucking castle or in my old small house. I don't care if I have to serve tables for the rest of my life, as long as I have you."

"You deserve a lot more than that."

"And so do you. What are you going to do, huh? To keep playing house with the woman who killed and turned you into a vampire? Serving her every wish and pretending you love this life? Or sleep with a different servant every week to hide the fact you're completely lonely and miserable?"

"Yes, Aleena. It has been this way for six decades now and it's not going to change. I have no choice, I'm sorry."

She vanished into a swarm of flies and disappeared, leaving me completely alone in the stables. I fell on my knees again, sobbing and screaming my lungs out.

"Bela, come back here!" I cried. "I love you! Please... come back..."

I still waited for a few minutes, but as I knew and as Mrs. Volkov always warned me, when Bela made a decision nothing would change her mind. Not even her mother or her sisters. Not even me.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Bela's Room - Present Days

"I'm hungry," Cassandra complained from the couch. "Pretty please... I'm helping you with the secret mission. A scrambled egg is enough."

"Tell Lady Dimitrescu to cook," Bela remained unmoved on her bed, staring at the ceiling while wearing Aleena's jacket. The one she borrowed her when the castle was attacked. It was the only memory she'd have from the woman she loved. "She was the one to kill all the servants."

Bela was listening to an old love song from the 60's. It was the one thing she was actually capable of doing in that moment. She couldn't even manage to create different scenarios about how she could kill Miranda inside her mind, or even wander around the castle searching for the cursed knife.

She knew Aleena had safely arrived in her house at the village. She sent one of her flies to follow her and observe her for how long it was possible. The girl was completely devastated, heartbroken and it killed her to see that. She could she glimpses of the moments where she sobbed while packing her bags and taking them to her old truck. But it was the best for both of them. She'd never be safe by Bela's side. Especially while Miranda was still around.

"This music is making me nauseous," Cassandra went to the disc player and turned it off. "You should've gone with her then."

"It was the safest for her. Mother would come after me immediately and take her back to Miranda's claws."

The brunette sister went to her own bedroom and returned with a book in hands, what surprised Bela because Cassandra wasn't much of a reader.

"Check this out. I asked the Duke to get you the sequel," and she started to read, adopting the same dramatic tone as usual. "As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worried — late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses — that it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. I could not think of them, but I must remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live — I had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed."

"Ha ha, very funny," Bela rolled her eyes. Deep down she absorbed those words. She feared someday she'd forget all those small details about Aleena too, but knowing she existed someday, and that she loved her back, was enough for her to be able to live for the rest of her immortal days. "Next time, get us something useful. Like that fucking dagger."

The door opened and Daniela walked inside, pushing a food cart.

"I brought us dinner," she announced.

"Did you kidnap a villager to cook for us?" Cassandra asked, immediately grabbing a plate.

"Of course not! I cooked it myself. If Bela can do it, I can too."

The two eldest sisters exchanged a suspicious glance, before deciding they were not so hungry after all.

"And here is the main dish..." Daniela said, lifting the lid and revealing the content inside the silver pan. "A poisonous dagger."

"You did it!" Bela exclaimed, surprised and proud.

"Yes! Let's chop that bitch to pieces."

Daniela hugged her eldest sister again. It was happening too often lately, for Bela's discomfort. But this time, she accepted the hug.

"Where's mom?" Cassandra interrupted the moment. "I haven't heard from her since I left her alone in her bedroom."

The castle was way too quiet. It wasn't the first time the servants had to be gotten rid of and they were completely by themselves. Or maybe sometimes, Lady Dimitrescu would lock herself in the Opera House to play the piano or even read a book alone in her bedroom, but that wasn't the case this time. That was a different kind of silence. A silence that indicated danger, a threat.

"Mother?!" Cassandra called, followed by her two sisters. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. They were about to reach the library when the power went out, as well as the heating system. A wave of panic instantly spread over Bela's body. She feared the cold, more than anything.

"What the hell?!" Daniela yelled. "Who's there? I'm starving and angry, so don't mess with me!"

"Shhhh," Bela silenced her. She had a feeling, a hunch about who could it be. As they approached the office, her suspicions were confirmed by the argument coming from inside the room.

"Where is she, Alcina?!" They heard Miranda yelling. "You promised me to keep her safe!"

"Mother, I swear... she was in the dungeons! There was no way she could escape. The drug was supposed to keep her down until now."

"Your daughters... they must've helped her to escape. Decades trying to find the perfect vessel and they ruined it all. They'll deal with the consequences!"

"Mother, no! Don't hurt them, I'm begging you."

In that moment, the sisters witnessed as a powerful flock of birds started to fly around the caste, shattering all the windows. As the cold air of the night in the mountains filled the entire place, the three sisters knew their ending was imminent.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's House - Present Days

The tears blurred my vision as I followed my way back to the village. Sometimes, I'd stop for a minute, hoping Bela would change her mind and come after me. Why would she assume I was safer without her? If there was someone who could protect me, that was she.

As soon as I arrived, I went straight to the garage, getting my old truck to come back to life. Then, I followed to my bedroom to pack my bags. There wasn't much I actually needed to take, mostly my clothes, my laptop and a few other important belongings. I didn't plan to sell the house anyways. I could come back and take the rest later, if I had to.

My books. I would definitely take at least my favorites. Most of them were gifts from my mom. I couldn't leave those precious treasures behind. As I grabbed one of them to place it inside of my luggage, a small piece of paper fell on the floor:

'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. Love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom'.

I recognized it. It was an excerpt of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. Bela should've left it there when she was alone in my bedroom. In the end, she wrote: 'Please, think of me sometimes. I love you, forever'.

Of course I would. There was no way I'd ever stop loving that girl, or even forgetting about her at all. I could never forget about the girl who threw me the sweetest birthday party or made me the best pancakes in the world. And especially, the first girl I ever loved. I pressed the note against my chest, letting out a few tears. I placed it among my belongings, those I was going to take with me to California.

I heard the front door opening and I immediately grabbed my rifle and my blades too. Something had to at least cause some harm to that bitch. I was slowly going down the stairs in an attack position, when I heard a voice.

"Leena? Are you home?" That was my twin brother, Auryk. "I'm back."

"Auryk," I finally revealed myself. My first impulse was running to his arms, before I remembered all the lies and the betrayal. "You knew it. You fucking knew it and you hid it from me!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to keep you safe from Miranda. I planned to get you out of here before it all came to surface, but that bitch was already one step ahead."

"We have to go, right now. She's coming after me. I just escaped Castle Dimitrescu."

"Leena, no..." he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought I was clear when I asked you to stay in the castle until I returned."

"Auryk, she drugged me and locked me in the dungeons!" I yelled. "She was going to sacrifice me in a sick ritual tonight. Which part haven't you understand yet?"

"This was the plan, Aleena. When she was vulnerable, during the ritual, the agency would take the opportunity to explode this place and all these freaks."

"WHAT?! What about the village... and the people, their houses? What about ME?! What if I got killed in this process?"

"They're going to evacuate the village in a couple of hours," he explained. "And then, they'll help them to rebuild their lives or something... I don't know for sure. But they would protect us."

"Stop them!" I ordered. I couldn't let them hurt Bela or her sisters. Or even put the villagers in danger. Some of them, such as Olga, Elena and her father would never abandon that place and its traditions. "Right now! You're not going to hurt them. You won't!"

"Aleena, what the fuck? They're monsters! They're going to kill you!"

And then, I did the first thing that came to my mind. It was stupid, unplanned and completely reckless. I knocked my brother's head with the rifle. As soon as he fell unconscious on the floor, I tied him up and locked him inside Adrian's secret storage.

"I'm sorry, Auryk. But I must save my girlfriend."

[the-sympathetic-villain]

I Know What You’re Going To Say - Chapter 1

AO3 | Next | Masterpost

Description: A Beauty and the Beast style Vampire AU. Vampire!Virgil has picked up Logan off the street and is holding him captive under the threat of killing his friends if he tries to escape.

Word Count: 1801

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Kidnapping, Restraints, Death Threats, Psychological Manipulation, Mentions of Parental Homophobia/Abandonment, Unsympathetic!Virgil (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

---

    Logan shivered as a cold draft passed over his neck. A soft groan escaped his lips as he attempted to lift his heavy head. He immediately stilled his movements as his vision blurred and he suppressed a retch as his head started to swim. He gritted his teeth trying to settle his stomach while he searched his mind for any recollection of what had happened to him.

    Did someone...drug me?

    Slowly, feeling came back to his body as he pulled himself out of unconsciousness. His muscles ached, rebelling against the movement as he forced himself to resist giving into his own weakness.

    I was walking with Roman. What happened?

    He clenched his hand into a fist, feeling a thick cord cut into his muscles as he tried to move them. Forcing himself to blink his vision clear, he wearily turned his head to where his arms were stretched out to his sides. Logan swallowed, bile filling his throat at the sight of his wrists hanging limply against the pipes to which they were bound. He groaned as pins and needles erupted in his fingertips as he tried to wiggle them. The person who had bound him to the piping behind him clearly hadn’t been too concerned with his welfare when he'd tied the cords tight enough to cut off his circulation.

    Logan tipped up his head up, glancing around him. The room around him was dimly lit and mostly empty, but he could just make out a few crates spread out on the far wall in front of him. They were stacked as if preparing for shipping, nearly cutting off his line of sight to the only door he could make out in the dark. The ceiling hung high above him and he could just make out the long industrial lights hanging above him and he scanned down the room until his gaze finally dropped to his own legs spread out on the concrete ground beneath him.

    A warehouse?

    “Move and you die.”

    A sudden chill shot up Logan’s spine as the deep voice echoed in the space around him. He froze in place, allowing only his eyes to move as scoured the dark space for the source of the stranger's voice.

    “What do you want?” Logan’s stomach twisted at the sound of his own weak voice, suddenly aware of his own vulnerability.

     “Clearly, I have what I want.” A shadow shifted in his periphery and Logan’s head shot up toward the dark figure casually strolling up to him. He blinked and attempted to swallow back a wave of nausea as he struggled to focus his vision on the man as he slid out of the dark. Unfortunately, his efforts were wasted and the man remained no more than a black shadow through the haze of his brain.

    Logan grunted as fingertips curled in his hair, yanking his head up. His vision blurred as his eyes watered. Swallowing back his fear, he forced his eyes open to catch sight of his captor. He squinted, furiously trying to focus on the figure in front of him.

    “You’re prettier than most of my meals.” The figure muttered in an almost disinterested tone. “It's almost a shame I have to break that perfect skin.”

    Logan shivered as the man's hand brushed over his neck. “If you want money, I can get y—"

    “I don't,” The man snarled. “and you'd best give up that line of thought. Nothing you can offer will get you out of this.”

    Logan sucked in a breath. His shoulders felt heavy from the effect of the drugs, but he bit his lip and forced himself to remain rebellious of the man’s control. “Surely, you have a price.”

    The man hummed thoughtfully. “I do, but it’s not going to get you home.”

    “If you’re not going to let me go, then why would I barter with you?” Logan growled as his head was yanked to the side.

    “Well, forgive me if I've misinterpreted your good nature," The man leaned closer, breathing down Logan’s neck. "but you don’t seem like the type to enjoy being responsible for his friend’s death.”

    Roman—

    Logan’s heart dropped as his memory came flooding back. Roman had been walking home when the shadow had grabbed him off the street. His friend’s yells echoed in his ears as a wave of anxiety rushed to his chest.

    “What did you do to him?!” Logan cried out as he pulled away from the man’s hand, growling as the man caught his chin with a tight grip.

    “Nothing, but if you want it to stay that way, you'll shut your mouth.” The man hissed in his ear threateningly. "And if you ever scream in my ear again, I'll end your miserable life."

      Logan clamped his mouth shut, breath catching in his throat as the man curled into his neck. He forced himself to keep his eyes open even as his vision blurred,  desperately trying to catch some details from the man in front of him. The black hood of the man's sweatshirt brushed his face and he could just make out dark rings below his eyes as the man breathed down his neck.

    “This is how this is going to work.” The man's deep growl vibrated on his neck. “You belong to me now, Logan Nagel.”

    Logan’s heart stopped as the stranger whispered his name in his ear. He shivered as the deranged man leaned back and lifting a cold hand to his chin. Logan went limp with panic as the stranger tilted his head to the side, looking him up and down.

     “Right now, your pretty friend is now safely asleep in his bed, and when he wakes up, he'll think that the monster who attacked him was all a bad nightmare.” An unnatural smile spread across the strange man’s face. His eyes glimmered dangerously as the dark circles under his eyes darkened. “At least that's what he'll think until he finds out his friend has disappeared last night without a trace.”

    Logan stifled a whimper in his throat as the stranger sneered at him. He closed his eyes, stealing himself as he started to plead. “Please, if you want money, I can—"

    “I don’t need money.”  

    The stranger stood up, chuckling as Logan flinched away from the movement. He casually stepped back, leaning against one of the support beams as he allowed Logan to catch a clear glimpse of his captor for the first time. He stood tall. Even if Logan weren't bound on the ground, he would guess the stranger would loom over him. The purple tips of his dark hair hung over his eyes, glinting in the dim fluorescent light as he moved across the room. His jet-black pupils only served to accent the dark circles under his eyes. Logan glanced down the stranger's body and gulped. Somehow, even in the over-sized black sweatshirt, he could tell the stranger had muscular, narrow shoulders and his thought was confirmed as he stared at the stranger's black skinny jeans, which left little of the man's athletic build to the imagination.

    “You might as well give up on the idea of bargaining your way out of this, Logan. The life you knew is over.” The stranger stated dryly, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket lazily. He glanced at the screen, typing away at the screen as he continued speaking. “From now on, you do whatever I ask, whenever I ask. And if you give me trouble, I'll bring your friends here and kill them in front of you.”

    “W-what?” Logan whimpered quietly.

    “What was the pretty one's name again? Roman?” The stranger sneered down at him cruelly as Logan’s heart seized in his chest. “And let's see. He has a brother. A disgusting punk type, if you ask me.”

    Logan’s mouth hung open as he felt himself start to shake. “How do you—”

    “Though I wonder if you'd even care if I got rid of him. You might even appreciate me keeping him away from your brother.” The stranger looked up from his phone briefly. “He's the one whose squeal could shatter glass. What was his name again?”

    Logan trembled. His fingertips suddenly felt numb with panic. “No…”

    "Patton!" Logan flinched at the man’s sudden exclamation, curling his knees to his chest. “That's the useless brat's nam—

    “Stop.” Logan cut him off harshly, grinding his teeth in frustration. “You won’t get away with this. They’ll catch you and my father will see you rot in prison for the rest of your life. He’s the district attorney, and if you don't let me go immediately, he'll—”

    “Don’t lie to me, Logan. Your family cut you off months ago.” The stranger cut him off in an almost bored tone as he returned to tapping away at his phone. “Pretty boy lost his trust fund because he accidentally let slip he was gay to his bastard parents.”

    Logan stared at him blankly. “I haven't told anyone about that.”

    “Not even your brother. I know. I've been watching you for a long time, Logan.” The unfamiliar man shrugged typing a few last keystrokes before shoving his phone in his pocket. “Sucks that you outted yourself, but that's not my problem. You’re a nobody now, just like the rest of us, and that means no one's coming looking for you.”

    “My friends will try and find me.” Logan growled bitterly. “They won’t rest until they do.”

    “Maybe, but you really don’t want that to happen.” A sinister smile spread across the man's face. Even in the dim light, Logan could see the man's lips curl into a smile, revealing his sharp canines. “I have no problem killing them if they get too close.”

    Logan's jaw dropped as he realized the strange man had backed him into a corner.  

    “And I'll remind you again, don’t inconvenience me. I don't care enough to be patient with you.” The man shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, glaring at him intently. “Try to escape and I will kill everyone you care about and then finish with you. Got it?”

    Dropping his head, Logan felt his throat constrict as he tried to swallow down the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. His tired mind raced at the realization he may never see his friends again. He bit his lip as the fight left his body as his chin dipped to his chest. Numbly, he nodded, distracted as he tried to process what was happening through he haze that still clung to his brain.

    “Good.” The man didn't even tip his head up as he turned to leave, calling nonchalantly over his shoulder. “Get comfortable. These four walls are the only thing you’re going to be seeing for a long time.”

---

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

[prose-for-hire]

Friends don’t let friends kill their hair

Pairing: Cordelia Chase x Spike (platonic)

Request: Hello lovely! I have a not reader related request, but if you dont want to write it, its fine! I thought that maybe one day spike screws up bleaching his hair and he goes to Cordy for help? And they bond and become reaaally good friends. I think they could gave a pretty neat friendship, if the writers would have let them,and they are my favourites and you write them so amazingly 🌈

Requested by: @therapieliteratur​ - hope this is okay babe !!

A/N: This is my first request with no reader! It was fun, I love both of the characters so I couldn’t say no to making them friends !!

When I was younger I had a bleaching disaster - I actually had a nightmare one night after writing this fic about bleaching my hair again and it all falling out lol

Spike had been bleaching his hair for a long time now. He could pretty much do it with his eyes closed at this point, and in some sense he did as he didn’t have a mirror to check if he had covered everything.

Now, Spike had let his roots grow out a little longer than he usually would, as he had a slight income problem. The problem being he couldn’t find enough people to intimidate into giving him the cash he needed for the essentials: Blood, smokes and most importantly, bleach. This wouldn’t usually stop him, he would use his five-finger discount but he had now got himself a reputation after being caught shoplifting too many times. So, when he did eventually drum up enough money for his box-bleach, his roots were ridiculously overgrown.

He wasn’t able to see himself in the mirror, so didn’t think anything of it until he came across a demon who was definitely not a fan of Spike’s.

“What, it’s not bad enough you’re helping the slayer, you went and gave yourself a golden halo too?” One had taunted, punching him in the face before walking of. Apparently, spike wasn’t even worth dusting. Spike was confused, but not for long. A kinder woman behind the bar who served him his shot of blood told him his bleaching hadn’t gone as well as he had expected.

That’s when Cordelia found him late at night, staring at the rows of bleach in the store. Cordelia had been in to buy tampons and had audibly gasped at the state of his hair. Almost having to shield her eyes from the horror of it.

“Yeah that’s right laugh it up, why don’t you take a bloody picture it’ll last longer” He muttered, instantly on the offensive. He recognised the girl, she knew the Slayer and Angel.

“Ugh, really? Draw more attention to it why don’t you” she rolled her eyes walking away to pay for her items. She didn’t need to be stuck in a conversation, she had things to do.

“Look, pet, just- which one would patch it?” Spike asked, eyes to the floor as he asked for help. Cordelia sighed over-exaggeratedly before stalking back over to the shelves, checking his hair again with a little squint before taking a few bottles and boxes and handing them to him. Spike nodded, a silent thanks and Cordelia went and paid, leaving Spike alone in the drug store.

Cordelia was walking to her car, it was dark and she had to park a few blocks away. She hurried through the streets, not knowing if the feeling of being followed was real or just because she knew what could be lurking there. She finally turned around, finding herself face-to-face with Spike who was holding a brown bag of shopping.

“What is wrong with you, anyone tell you that the annual stalk-a-thon is next week?”

“Really? I better make my way over for that one, any idea what time?” Spike continued, rolling his eyes as if he was already over the conversation, “Listen, love, I was thinkin’ you clearly have a free evening and-”

“I’m busy, actually”

“Yeah? Doin’ what exactly?” he asked, making Cordelia sigh and scowl a little. He was right, she hadn’t had any plans since high school. Half of her friends had died during graduation and her move to LA had to be put on hold as there was a slight cash-flow problem that even her father couldn’t help with. Cordelia huffed, but nodded after Spike gestured to his bag and asked her to tell him what to do to salvage his hair, “Oh come on, I’ll do it”

Back at the crypt, Spike was sat in front of the tv with a towel around his shoulders.

“Not that I don’t respect a man that maintains his own sense of style, but your hair is seriously dead. Like way dead”

“Like the rest of me then” He shrugged.

“No, like, dead dead. It’s like straw! And believe me, I know, I was the straw-princess for three years running”

Spike opened his mouth to ask what the hell a straw-princess was but decided against it. He was strangely enjoying the girl’s company and he didn’t want to insult her and have her leave him with only half of the hair righted.

“The bleach you buy is harsh and you bleach it what every few weeks? You should try a different brand, I know a few” She offered, continuing to correct his mistake.

She continues chattering away, over his tv programme. He starts to tell her to be quiet but she gets snippy, threatening to leave him with half a crown. He sighed, flipping the tv off. He sat there, trying not to itch his head as the bleach took effect. 

He found himself enjoying Cordelia’s company. She was talking, non-stop about the recent goings-on. The demons, how everyone else had started college and she was still just living at home. How she planned to leave to LA. Spike chipped in sometimes, and he was surprisingly supportive about her aspiration to become an actress.

When she was finally done, she announced it in characteristic fashion, “There! Don’t tell me that doesn’t look better?! She smiled brightly, checking out her work and nodding at herself in appreciation.

“I can’t see it, pet, but I believe you. Couldn’t bloody disagree or my head would be spinning with your shrill insistence” he muttered, getting up to stretch after being sat for a while. He slicked his hair back and shrugged choosing to trust the girl. He looked back at Cordelia, the look asking her what she was still doing here. Cordelia rolled her eyes, but smiled before she left.

It was next month so Spike had a good month and had the cash to buy bleach on time. But, this wasn’t needed as when he returned to his crypt in the early morning, just before the sun rose.

There was a little basket, filled with haircare products. Spike frowned, looking around as if it was a trap. As if the slayer was now targeting him where it would really hurt. Taking the last thing he had managed to maintain despite everything. His aesthetic.

He was suspicious, but he hauled the basket into the crypt. He double checked behind him at the entrance to make sure nobody was going to run in and make fun of him or stake him for taking the products inside.

There was better quality bleach, conditioners that might make the quality of his hair better and an old polaroid camera for him to check his hair through taking pictures.

There was a card that read, “Death isn’t an excuse for a bad dye job – C”

Spike smiled, valuing the thought the girl had for her before shaking himself out of it. He was lonely, so any hint of friendship he appeared to cling to at the moment. He had even considered asking if Giles would let him in to watch Passions again, just for company the other week.

“Hey, what’s new in the land of damp and spooky?” Cordelia asked she had decided to drop in finding herself enjoying talking to the vampire. She had been dropping by every so often since she had helped him. She was looking around his home with a disdain she couldn’t quite hide well enough. Her next idea was to convince Spike to let her at least make it a little more homely. Spike didn’t reply, only rolled his eyes almost fondly at the girl who had started to drop in and bring light coloured throws for his sofa and thinking he wouldn’t notice.

“You’re using the products!” Cordelia stated, smiling slightly with satisfaction as she saw some half-used bottles. She had hoped he would.

“To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase, duh” He swatted her away as if she was being moronic for thinking he wouldn’t. He had hoped his gesture had confirmed it to her but she hadn’t understood that this was Spike’s way of saying thank you.

“Well, you don’t have to be rude – you just have to say thank you” Cordelia offered, a small smile on her lips at hearing the vampire say ‘duh’. It felt alien coming from his mouth. Maybe there was hope for him to adapt – finding him some lighter colours and perhaps an aesthetic that wasn’t so black and scary. She had detailed fantasies of convincing him to let her style him a few outfits. Spike just stared at her demand, figuring he must like the brashness of this girl. She was blunt and bossy, and a bit shallow by all accounts. But he couldn’t help become fond of her, especially when she continued when she didn’t say anything, “Fine, if you want say it, you can show it” Cordelia brandished a makeup bag filled with little bottles of nail varnish.

“What the bloody hell-”

“Nails!” She rolled her eyes and grinned as if it was obvious, sitting down and waiting for him to start painting them.

The pair had a good friendship-of-sorts after this, meeting up every so often to gossip about recent goings on. Spike found himself missing her friendship after she was finally able to move to LA, but he kept in contact with her, making trips to see her (and avoiding Angel) to catch up with each other.

[practicallynonsensical]

Let’s talk about the absolute drug-induced fever dream of metal that was Bliss. Now when I chose to watch this, it was only after watching the trailer, I had no other context, no summary, no nothing, so when I got into the meat and grime of the story I was really LIKE WHOA. If possible, I recommend going into this movie blind and unspoiled.

Bliss opens with bright, florescent, and disorienting title cards. Like colorful, moving, graffiti art flashing violently. This is not for the photosensitive viewers, and honestly, this movie may be an entire skip it for the photosensitive folks.

Enter Dezzy, a moderately famous artist, who is beautiful, and very stressed. We meet her as she is behind on her rent and at a loss with her art.

Within the first 10 minutes, she is fighting with her boyfriend, landlord, agent, and well, is being dropped by said agent, who we immediately know is massive jerk trash by his greeting.

In her agitation, she visits dealer and friend, Adrian, whom she hasn’t seen in a while as she had been staying away from hard drugs.

She’s here looking for some “inspiration,” and Adrian has just the thing, and its name is Diablo. He calls it the best bliss in town. He tells her only to do a little. She, of course, does a lot. As soon as she does a large line, she is transported into a visual trip of moving colors and transcendent beauty. Her inspiration seemingly returning. We realize she blacked out for hours.

Naturally, she does more drugs; we meet her friend Courtney, and her man, a blonde guy with sunglasses, played by our favorite Purge villain. This drug-filled night culminates in an extended scene of a threesome that was honestly beautifully shot.

When Dezzy awakes again, she feels overcome with inspiration to paint. And when she snaps out of it, she does not know where this is coming from, but she loves it. She feels odd, sees something on her neck, and hallucinates herself covered in blood.

We follow Dezzy through what seems to be the symptoms of withdrawal. She is in a bad way. She doesn’t know if it is that Diablo stuff or something more insidious going on.

When she goes out that night the pieces begin to make sense once she runs into Courtney. Her friend is unfazed by the behavior and knows just how to make this go away, a cool and refreshing splattering of blood.

An unsuspecting girl in the bathroom is subject to Courtney’s calming technique. Dezzy drinks, has a great night covered in blood, paints, and then blacks outs again. This time waking up and feels paranoid and worse than ever, fearing that Courtney dosed her. She is confused about whether or not the night before even happened the way she remembers.

She does know one thing, she is craving blood in the worst way. And goodness gracious, her first kills are brutal.

In desperation, Dezzy goes to see her friend Adrian, and after a mishap that leaves him bleeding, she is unable to control herself, she annihilates him and everyone else in the home. It is a terrifically gory scene that leaves Deezy driving through LA in her convertible with a blood-covered face and a smile. Beautiful.

After days of trying to find Courtney again, we finally get confirmation, this is a true blood-red cloaked vampire story, and oops, sorry Dezzy, there is no cure, this is forever. Courtney sends Dezzy on her way with no real answers, just a promise that she will enjoy this gift she has given her.

Dezzy tries to resist the urges, but those horrid withdrawal symptoms once again  to plague her.

And man, this is where the blood gates OPEN. My girl starts up with the bloodshed and does not let up as she gets more and more of her painting done. She is obsessed, now with her career back on track, she believes this to be her masterpiece, she is willing to kill or die for it.

Clive, her boyfriend or FWB’s, death was particularly brutal as he came by her apartment because he was genuinely worried. She murders him with this gnarly neck snap that left his neck gushing like a fountain to quench her never-ending thirst. Literally bleeding him dry.

Post-snack, she hallucinates that he comes after her and calling her a murderer.

She tries to kill herself to no such mercy. She is devastated but feels calm once she sees her painting near completion.

Clive is back! The now vampire, Clive, is back because, apparently, she turned him  accidentally instead of killing him. He feels she did this purposely, Dezzy does not seem to agree, he gets aggressive, and then Dezzy is saved from another violent breakup by Courtney, who drives a SWORD?!?!? through his heart.

Courtney has come by because she is angry at the bloodbath Dezzy has left around town. And now Courtney decides that Dezzy’s blood would be the perfect meal.

The vampire ladies battle to some metal tune with Dezzy’s painting looming in background. Dez stabs Courtney in the heart, and just like with Clive, we see this excellent melting effect of the dying vampires.

It is a really awesome looking practical effect! It looks like a doll that was melted and then sped up. Maybe a metaphor for the plastic/shallow folks dying in their hedonistic pursuits of power and well, in this case, literally blood.

More heavy metal plays, Dezzy dances wildly, and she paints with a singular purpose. Covered in the blood of her friends, she steps back to look at her finished painting.

She again hallucinates all of her victims, reaching for her desperately. This scene mirrors her masterpiece, now completed, soon after all of the screams and hallucinations fade away. She has created something that will live on forever, and forgotten are those she hurt to get here, to this moment of absolute bliss.

The sun rises, and she explodes with the light of a new day.

What I liked: This was an absolutely grimey, 80’s nostalgic, stylish, heavy metal, stress-filled joy ride. It was a fresh take on the vampire genre for something jammed packed with nostalgia shots, and grindhouse feels. I loved the subtleness of the classic vampire lore. No sun, stakes through the heart very bad. We see that narcissism of vampires that we love heightened through the lens of the LA art scene. Instead of making dying for your art romantic, soft, and beautiful, the filmmaker made it violent and a bloodbath. Sidenote: Which I think needs to be seen more, let’s chill with the idea that we need to kill ourselves to be creative. The main character was not likeable, she was talented but really lacked any personage beyond her art and drugs. You can live for your art too.  Another big up, the practical effects were incredible. Something additional I loved was this realistic look into the inescapable feeling of addiction. I think the film really used its story matter to advocate how powerless addicts can be in the throes of their illness. This movie does not glamorize drug use, it makes it look bloody disgusting.

What I disliked: As i mentioned above, the characters were not really likeable. Which I guess is fine and reminiscent of old horror movies.. Most characters we are introduced to are just there to boost the final body count, but I really REALLy, wanted to like Dezzy, because Dora Madison is absolutely incredible in this movie. She was sorely underused in the episode of “Into the Dark” i saw her in, because she brought an excellent physicality to her movements in this film, especially when she was supposed to be blacked out. When she was disorientated, so were you, and that is due to the amazing camera work and her captivating performance. The writing did not flesh out her backstory or really her story other than the surface or maybe enough for me to be gung-ho for this character. Most of the time, I was really fine if she died. Which sucks because the acting was great, but that goes for most of the characters. But if we are going by old school horror rules, I must get over it, cause everyone sucks, so by proxy; they must die?!? I guess.  My bad for wanting to root for someone.

Should you watch it: If you are a metal fan, vampire fan, or horror fan, I recommend it. This is like our Uncut Gems. Yes, I said it. Bliss is the Uncut Gems of horror. Feel free to @ me. This film is purposefully disorientating, non-stop, and will stress you out. The main character stresses you out, and you TRULY wish they made better life choices. The camera work is incredible, and you can tell this was shot with care and edited with love for the genre. Joe Begos, the director, is a horror pro, and I am excited to work my way through more of his work. So yeah, it is on the streaming service Shudder now. Watch it.

[tanjamikaelson]

LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 32

MASTERLIST

PART 32: | DANCE QUEEN |

・ • ・ • ・

There are objects of affection

That can mesmerize the soul.

There is always one addiction

That just can not be controlled.

You are mine, all mine, you are mine.

・ • ・ • ・

AMSTERDAM

More than a month ago Rebekah told them that Klaus left for New Orleans and that he finally believed them when he saw Marcel with his own eyes. Now he is trying to get his city back and become a king again, just as Kol and Natali expected. And Elijah was also with him, still trying to lead him down the right path.

Kol woke up, eyes getting used to the surroundings around him. In a haze, he glanced at his girlfriend beside him in this fancy hotel room they were currently residing in and another dead girl from last night snack, lying on the edge of the bed.

He sat up in the bed, eyes turning toward Natali as she too began to wake up. Kol watched as her eyes started to come back to life.

 - “Hey. Darling..”, Kol smiled at her lazily. “You wanna go for another round?” His hand trailed down her chest.

 - “What? No, not really, let me sleep.” Natali mumbled in a sleepy voice, while she pushed his hand away in the space between them.

 - “Come on, love. Last night was spectacular.” Kol strung out the last word for effect.

 - “You’re right. Having all that drugs and alcohol in me made it amazing and if I’m mundane I would probably be dead, so let me sleep until all of it is out of my system.” Natali told him, turning herself on the stomach.

 - “What a better way to get it out of your system then to have more fun?” Kol questioned, devilish smirk appearing on his face as he watched her naked body in front of him.

 - “God. Do you ever get tired.” Natali remarked briskly.

 - “I don’t.” Kol replied, seeing that she already fall back to sleep.

He learned better than to wake her up when she wants to sleep after not having sex for almost a week so he let her to sleep this off. He still wasn’t sure how she managed to resist him, but she did.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Kol and Natali were walking through the streets of Amsterdam, enjoying the summer weather that Netherlands city was experiencing. During the day Amsterdam was completely different to what Kol had seen at night. It was strange - even though he had set foot on the same path just a night ago. The glowing, neon lights that screamed sex were gone, replaced by the sun, which made everything look clean and bright.

Natali also liked Amsterdam, this of course wasn’t her first time here. She liked the canals, liked the small streets leading to who knew where and most of all she liked the people, of better say how they taste.

Natali paused for a second, her foot halfway in the air. Then she took a step back.

 - She took a better look at the inside of one bar they just came upon, “Is that Rebekah?” she asked, seeing a blonde girl in the distance that looked a lot like Rebekah.

Kol’s gaze looked at the same direction as hers and instantly with a grab of her hand he confirmed that in fact it was Rebekah. He opened the door of the bar and they walked in, holding hands tangled together.

Kol eyes glanced over the people at the bar, before they headed towards Rebekah. When they were few feet away they saw that she wasn't alone, Matt Donovan was sitting across from her and they seemed like they just finished their drinks. The two of them stood up from their table just when Natali and Kol came.

 - “Sister, fancy seeing you here.” Kol remarked looking at his sister with an amused smirk on his face.

 - “Kol.” Rebekah exhaled, looking at her brother.

 - “Why didn't you tell us you will come here?” Kol asked her.

 - “I don’t need to inform you where I’m going.” Rebekah replied grumpy.

 - Kol chuckled looking down for a brief moment, “I mean you probably saw on social medias that we are here. But you didn’t called us to hang out.” he told her.

 - Rebekah rolled her eyes, “I did saw. And I didn't expect to came upon you two in this big city.” he spoke quickly.

 - “Ouch Rebekah.” Kol laughs, “We’re not that bad company.”

 - “I’m just still annoyed by you.” Rebekah replies.

 - “We should go.” Matt dares to speak, when he noticed that Kol might change his mood. He takes Rebekah’s hand to drag her away, but he was stopped when suddenly Kol violently smashed a bottle on the edge of a table and holds up the jagged remnant in his hand. The two of them jumped in fright. Rebekah knew how dangerous Kol can be when he is becomes angry. He becomes unpredictable.

 - “You’re not going anywhere.” Kol replies, then he smirks at his sister, “I see you finally got the quarterback to pay attention to you.”

 - “Kol please, don’t make a scene.” Rebekah snapped at her brother.

 - “It makes me angry that you can't get over the fact that you won't have a cure.” Kol shot back, “Not to mention ignoring my texts. We were just trying to protect you, like we always do.”

 - Rebekah shakes her head, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” she told him firmly.

Kol nodded, smiling bitterly.

 - Then he turned his attention towards Matt, “How's the throwing arm, champ?” he asked, before he threw the broken bottle at Matt’s shoulder.

Matt groans in pain, bringing his hand up towards the broken bottle.

 - “Kol!” Rebekah screamed, “Don’t ask me ever again why I don't want to forgive you.” she told him.

 - “You care more about this pathetic human than me.” Kol snarled.

Natali exhaled a deep breath. If she knew he would snap like this, she would never mention that she saw Rebekah.

 - “Personally I think he is just using you, like very other men you ever fell in love with.” Kol continued, his glare fixed on Rebekah.

 - Rebekah shoot him an angry look, “You’re unbelievable.” she hissed.

Then Rebekah and Matt left, Kol wanted to go after them, but Natali stopped him not wanting to make his sister even more mad. She knew how much Kol is upset because Rebekah doesn't want to forgive him as easily as she forgives Klaus. So it’s best if he doesn't piss her off even more than he already did.

The two of them stayed at the bar. They ordered drinks and were sitting in silence, until they didn’t heard an unfamiliar voice behind them saying, “Whether my eyes are deceiving me or you’re really the infamous queen of Saint Tropez? “

 - They both turned to look at the guy behind them, “And who are you supposed to be..?” Natali questioned, raising her eyebrow.

 - Guy smiled slightly, “No one. I just wanted to say I enjoyed watching you dance in that club called “Eternal Night” he told her, remembering that night.

 - “What?” Kol suddenly burst out, Is that what you were doing while I saw in the box?” Having other guys watch you dance? he questioned, becoming angry again.

 - Natali sighed and ignored him so she can get rid of the guy who just ruined her night, “How is that you’re alive? We kill every human that takes a step into that club?”

 - “Well apparently I had some vampire blood in my system.” The guy told her.

 - “Are you even listening to me?” Kol asked, a bit louder.

 - Natali looked at him, “Yes, they watch me dance, but we also kill everyone. This one is just an exception since he became a vampire.” she told him.

 - “Then I think I should kill him.” Kol spoke, standing up from his bar chair.

This was just the thing he needed after seeing Rebekah with Matt, who he despised as much as the rest of the Mystic Falls gang.

 - The guy backed away, “I-I don’t want any trouble.” his voice was shaky.

 - “And I don’t want guys hitting on my girl.” Kol told him dangerously.

 - “I didn’t realized that you two are together.” The guy spoke quickly.

 - “Well we are, mate.” Kol tells him, grabbing onto the collar of his t-shirt.

And a moment later Kol had chucked the man across the bar. He hit a far wall before falling to the floor.

Before he stood up from the ground Kol zoomed towards him and plunged his hand into his chest, grabbing a hold of his heart.

 - “Please, do-” The guys opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off as Kol ripped his heart out of his chest. He dropped the heart onto the floor and heard Natali’s voice behind him, “Could you be more jealous?”

 - Kol turned towards her, smirking he said, “You didn’t dance for me for a long time.” he reminded her, “Maybe you could redeem for allowing others to watch you dance while I’m not around to kill every one of them.”

 - Natali grinned, “It would be my pleasure.” she told him seductively and bit her lower lip slowly on a naughty grin.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

As they walked into their hotel room, Natali pushed Kol onto the sofa. Then walked towards her laptop to find a song she can dance to. She pressed a play button and the song “Meg Myers - Desire (Hucci Remix)” began.

Feeling the music she closed her eyes and brought her hands up, touching her hair. She started out slow, swaying her hips.

Feeling the music she closed her eyes and brought her hands up, touching her hair. She started out slow, swaying her hips.

When she looked at him her eyes slanted with a glint of evil and seduction. She walked up to him and started dancing in front of him, almost but not quite between his knees. Everything she did was mesmerizing. Kol watched as she danced her dance with a smirk at his ‘excitement’.

・ • ・ • ・

I wanna feel YOU, I want it ALL.

I wanna feel YOU, I want it ALL.

I want it ALL,

I want it ALL.

・ • ・ • ・

Kol planted his hands on her tights and vowed to keep them there. She didn't just dance, she undulated, upper torso moving in the opposite direction to her gently swaying hips.

Her arms reached teasingly towards him, fingers moving as if to wave through his hair, almost but not quite touching him. He held his breath, hoping, but then she backed off a step.

・ • ・ • ・

Baby, I want to touch you,

I wanna breathe into your will.

・ • ・ • ・

Then started dancing again, eyes half closed as if she heard some mysterious inner rhythm more seductive than the song that was  playing in the back of the room with a bit of a dark vibe. Those endless legs, arched to a beautiful shape by her high heels, begged for the touch of his hands. She was supple as silk, he could see it, yet warm, soft and living. Carved exactly where she should be. Her nipples trust provocatively under her t-shirt at him, as she shimmied, moving closer and closer.

・ • ・ • ・

See, I gotta to hunt you,

I gotta to bring you to my hell.

・ • ・ • ・

And then she was right in front of him again, just inches apart. She moved herself onto his lap and slowly in the rhythm with the sexy tempo she was brushing herself against him.

It took every ounce of willpower he had, but he managed not to touch her. He loved when she leads the foreplay.

・ • ・ • ・

Baby, I wanna fuck you, I wanna feel you in my bones.

・ • ・ • ・

She rubbed herself against him, letting him feel the soft warmth of her breaths and then moved away again, dancing lazily while they watched each other in the dim light. He looked at her with a hunger flashing through his eyes and she smiled devilishly at him.

Kol gestured for her to come closer, but she shook her head with a half smile, before reaching her hands behind her back so she can unzip her skirt. He blinked as he watched her skirt hitting the ground.

・ • ・ • ・

Boy, I'm gonna love you, I’m gonna tear into your soul.

・ • ・ • ・

Few seconds later she walked back towards him. She placed her palms on the sides of his neck and straddled his hips on her knees to sit on his lap. She leaned forward and with the tip of her tongue she licked the spot on his neck just below the ear - the moist sensation making him aching for more.

・ • ・ • ・

Desire, I'm hungry, I hope you feed me.

・ • ・ • ・

She heard him suck his breath in and he reached with his hand for her shirt, but she pushed them down placing them onto her hips. Kol slid his hands lower and squeezed her butt, the pads of his fingers stroking along the hem of her panties and and she let out a soft moan into his ear.

・ • ・ • ・   

How do you want me, how do you want me?

・ • ・ • ・

Natali lowered herself fully onto his lap and immediately felt his hardness. The heat that met her, made her ache. So hard.. she rubbed herself against him to ease it. Their eyes met, ablaze.

When their lips jointed, it was as if they were on fire. They kissed hard, as she slid her hands  under his t-shirt, exploring his perfectly shaped abs. Kol could feel the firmness and warmth of her breasts against his chest.

・ • ・ • ・

How do you want me, how do you want me?

・ • ・ • ・

She tugged on his t-shirt and breaking the kiss she pulled it over his head. Then she kissed down to his jaw and then onto his neck, teasing him with brief sweep of her mouth. Kol tipped his head back and stifled a groan. She gazed her finger over the other side of his neck and then buried them into his hair. His groan escaped him this time, the feel of her nails against his scalp.. too good to contain. She sighed, her breath skimming hotly over his throat, and continued to kiss and suck it, driving him wild with the desire to feel her fangs pressing into his flesh. Knowing exactly what he wants, she bit his neck. The familiar taste of his blood washed into her mouth. At the same time, she ran her flat hand firmly down his chest and abs to the buckle of his jeans. She cupped the bulging denim pushing out the zip.

・ • ・ • ・

Boy, I wanna taste you, I wanna skin you with my tongue.

・ • ・ • ・

Suddenly she was standing in front of him again, bringing him back to reality for a brief moment, before she took off his jeans in one quick movement and leaned forward kissing him with feather light kisses down his chest as she slowly dropped her knees onto the floor. She gently kissed his stomach as she slipped her hands around his waist and pulled his down the sofa slightly. She gently kissed his stomach again, her hot breath against his skin making him moan louder. She gently, partly removed his boxers to reveal him underneath. He moaned heavily, as she ran the tip of her tongue up the length of him then took him in her mouth. She sucked gently, as he threw his head back and writhed with ecstasy. She held him tighter in her hand and sucked a little harder. She took the entire length of the enlarged shaft into her sensual mouth, holding it a moment before sucking it, then forcefully running her tongue over it, in turns. He was trembling all over in pleasure, his breath uneven as sweat stood out over his entire body. She was bringing him closer and closer to his much needed release. But as he was near the edge of his completion, she slowed down the licking and sucking, cruelly drawing out in pleasure and finally removed his shaft completely from her mouth.

・ • ・ • ・

I wanna feel YOU, I want it ALL.

I wanna feel YOU, I want it ALL.

・ • ・ • ・

Kol’s eyes had been closed in ecstasy but now he opened them, giving her a pleading look. Then he grabbed her chin and pulled her to be the same face level with him before hungrily capturing her mouth with his, tearing her panties from her body with one hand and ripping his nails into her back with other.

She straddled his hips again and took his cock in her hand and guided him in - both of them letting out a loud moan as she pushed down on him. They kissed passionately as she moved slowly to begin with, almost tesing him with her hot flesh. Kol finally got a chance to take off the last piece of clothes off of her body and then ran his fingertips over her nipples, she gasped and pushed a little harder.

・ • ・ • ・

DESIRE, I'm hungry I hope you feed me.

・ • ・ • ・ 

He leaned forward and teased her nipples with his tongue. She moaned and bit into her lip, before she felt his fangs bit into her breast, just above her nipple. She arched her back, letting out a moan as overwhelming pleasure swept over her. He kept her in a tight hold as his tongue laved her nipple while he drew on her blood.

Kol growled as her hands curled into his hair. He ran his hands up her back to her shoulders and dug his nails in deep, pulling her down harder and faster. Then released his bite on her breast and lifted his head to meet her gaze. Leaning closer to her, his mouth brushed over hers as he spoke; Cum for me, darling.

・ • ・ • ・

I wanna feel YOU, I want it ALL. I wanna feel YOU, I want it ALL.

・ • ・ • ・

Natali nodded slightly, almost not noticeable. Just a moment later Kol kissed her deeply as he started rapidly thrusting into her. She dug her nails into his shoulder as he pushed her over the edge, then broke the kiss letting out one last moan. Once more he pulled her down hard on him, as they both exploded with ecstasy.

Natali placed her head onto his shoulder and they held each other tight as they both caught their breath.

 - Kol slowly and gently moved her hair behind her ear, then whispered in a husky voice, “You’re the best, darling.”

 - Smile swept over Natali’s face, “I know, love.” she paused and chuckled; And besides you don't know about the others, since we been together for eight hundred and sixty years.

Kol chuckled lightly and as he didn't say anything right away Natali pushed herself  against his chest, “You haven't been with another woman, have you?” she asked looking straight into his cheerful eyes.

 - “No, darling.” Kol shook his head quickly answering, “Why would you even think that?”

 - “Just checking.” Natali replied dryly.

 - “But you have.” Kol spoke and she narrowed her eyes at him, “You’ve been with other guys while I was in the box.”

 - Natali bit the inside of her cheek, before looking down, “Well I’m going to get a shower now.” she told him changing the subject. Knowing that it won't lead to anything good, “Are you coming?” She asked him as she lifted herself up.

 - Kol grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto him, “You’re changing the subject.” he stated.

 - “I don't want to fight with you, because of some stupid things.” Natali told him firmly, trying to stand up again, but he didn't let her.

 - “It’s not a stupid thing, but okay I understand.” Kol spoke, moving his hands up and down her back.

 - Natali quirked her eyebrow, “You do?”

 - “Yes. I would do the same if you were in a box for three hundred years.” Kol told her.

 - Natali felt hurt in that moment, probably less then Kol was, but she kept a straight face, not showing it, “Well now that we discussed that, let’s get a shower.” she told him briefly and when he loosened his tight grip on her she pulled him towards the bathroom.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

MASTERLIST

Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic   @p3nny4urth0ught5   @cute-freak27   @ias-born  @superhalsteads  @characterobsessed   @hinata7346

A\N: This was HOT, wasn’t it? 😂 I wrote this months ago and now while I was reading it I was like “Oh god did I really write all of this?” I hope no one felt too uncomfortable.

[hillywooddestiel]

Walls Chapter 12

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Dr Richard Ketch (ofc), Ms Calder (ofc)

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of human experimentation

Word count: 1.2k

Description: Sam and Dean are trapped and it seems like there is no way out. Y/N’s transformation is nearly complete.

A/N: Look what’s back! Yes, I know, it’s been a while (4 months shhhhhh) but my inspiration is coming back, sort of, and I have more time to write now so here we are. It’s not the best chapter, in fact it’s a little depressing, but it’s a chapter and we’re nearly at the end I think. Enjoy this because I have no clue when the next chapter will be posted xx Masterlist

Story:

Dean’s POV Everything sounds distant, like I’m behind pane of glass trying to listen in. There’s beeping. My eyelids are heavy and take some effort but I manage to open them. It’s white. Everything is white and smells kind of chemically. I try to lift my head but a bout of dizziness stops me. So does the strap across my chest. My arms and legs are also bound to whatever it is I’m lying on. Oh crap! “Sam!” My voice comes out broken as I call out, “Sam! Sammy!” “Dean!” Sam shouts back from what must be the other side of the room. “Sam, you okay?” “I… I think so. I think they drugged us.” Sam groans. Gee, you think? I haven’t felt pain in my head like this since my hangover after finishing a case in Vegas! “Is Y/N here?”

“I don’t think so. Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here.” I assure him, manoeuvring my hands around to break free. “Dean-” “Hang on! I’ve almost-” “Dean!” Sam lets out an exhausted sigh, “It’s too late.” “We can’t give up! We’re so close to saving her!” “Dean, we barely made it against these guys last time. We don’t stand a chance.” He admits in a defeated tone. “What are you saying? That we- we give up?” I argue back, my chest constricting. “I just… I don’t see how we’re gonna get out of this.” If my arms were free, I think I would have punched him. Even though I know that he’s right. Dr Richard Ketch’s POV She’s perfection. Honest to God perfection. After the doctor gave her some adrenaline she woke up pretty quickly and now she’s stood in front of me and I can see what a perfect soldier she is. At attention, looking forwards, barely blinking. Well, I may have been a little hesitant at some of the doctor’s ideas. Her screaming was ear piercing. But she’s not screaming anymore. She’ll do anything I say. I say jump, she doesn’t even ask how high she just jumps as high as she can. I tell her to kill somebody and she’ll do it with no remorse. “Remarkable.” Ms Calder examines the girl, gaining no interaction from her. “Thank you Ma'am.” I give a tight lipped smile, my hands behind my back. “I had my doubts Ketch. I won’t apologise since they were well founded but I have to say, you’ve used the money well.” She examines the scars on the girls arm as I let out the breath I’ve been holding for weeks. “Yes Ma'am. And we also have the Winchesters ready. We can start the-” “No!” “No Ma'am?” “I don’t want them as soldiers. I want them dead. See to it Ketch.” She orders with the wave of her hand. “Right away Ma'am.” I nod to the two guards by the door and they leave immediately, myself following close behind. I wait a moment until we’re a few paces from the door before speaking again, “Alright, I want you to forget what Ms Calder ordered. You are not to kill the Winchesters.” “Yes sir.” They reply automatically. “Take them to the Amygdala Eradication Suite.” Sam’s POV

Dean screams and shouts as they roll his bed out of the room, trying to thrash his arms at the men in surgical masks despite his restraints preventing it. I remain still when they come for me; what’s the use anymore? They have us. They have Y/N. We’re all as good as dead, worse than dead, and there is no way of escaping. The lights roll along above me as I’m pushed to somewhere new. Dean has fallen silent; either they drugged him or he’s given up too. I don’t blame him for it. We’ve been in bad situations before, we’ve fought the devil, we’ve even been to other universes but this… this is something else entirely. You can spend your whole life fighting ghosts, vampires, werewolves, Djinn, the entire supernatural world but in the end, you find that it’s human beings that are the true evil in this world. They can be good, it’s true, but they can be easily bought or swayed to do the darkest deeds possible. Exhibit A: Dean and I are about to be experimented on like defenceless lab rats. “I want the big one first.” The slender man in a white lab coat gestures to a big MRI scanner type machine- it’s long and cylindrical with a ring down the centre, a bed on wheels inside. But it’s longer and filled with small lights inside the ring. Also, off to the side, there’s a glass tube running from the floor to the ceiling connected to the machine by a thick cable along the floor and inside it, bolts of blue electricity fight for space. The power source.

The nurses wheel my bed to line up with the machine. They leave me there, walking over to a table covered in screens and buttons- somehow I doubt that they’re talking over details of a brain scan.

“Are we all set? I want to be finished before Ms Calder comes down here.” not-Ketch joins them, hurriedly checking out all of the displays. He looks a little worried; he’s sweating from his forehead and his shoulders are tensed. What could have him so worried? Well, I’m about to die so there’s no point remaining in the dark.

“What are you going to do to us?”

“Sam! I suppose you might as well know, though you’re not going to remember it. No, you’re not going to die. You’re being given a second chance in life.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you’ll work for us from now on, doing exactly as we order you to.”

“We’ll never work for you” I growl, pulling against the restraints.

“Oh but you will. It’s all you will know to do. But, you know too much about us to be broken down like your friend. Hence, we will be erasing the amygdala in your brain.”

“What does that-”

“It means that you will no longer feel any emotion and will therefore be able to kill without mercy. It’s much easier this way. There are some side effects: your short term memory won’t function correctly and there’s a small chance you will remain in the postoperative coma permanently but the benefits outweigh the risks.”

“Sammy…” Dean suddenly stirs, the drugs ceasing to keep him unconscious (not very surprising given his tolerance for alcohol).

“Ah Dean, you’re finally with us.”

“What have you done to us you stuck bastard?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve not started yet.”

Dean’s POV

Whatever those mask-wearing zombies dosed me with fades away from my brain as quickly as it entered leaving me more alert than before. The straps holding me then are still there and I can hear that guy from before talking.

“You’re Dr Ketch aren’t you.” I confirm, straining my neck to just be able to see him and Sam.

“Yes, I am. I believe you’ve had a run in with my family before.”

“Yeah, you’re brother’s a real dick.”

“Oh no. While I do agree with your on point description of him, Arthur isn’t my brother. He’s my cousin.”

Walls Tags:

@dslocum89 @phoenixiax @enthusiasmisdepressing @superimpala1967@spectaculicious @becauseifuckingcan @maryosprinkle @22sarah08

[possiblytheworstideaieverhad]

Tonight’s Episode of The Flash Pissed Me Off So Bad, Reading More of This Seems Better By Comparison (Seriously, Fuck “Lose Yourself” With a Spork, Ralph Dibny Did Not Need To Fucking Die, Fuck You Season 4)

I’m not happy.

“Deeper breathing brought greater calm, and greater calm brought clearer thinking.” Okay, give the book this much, at least: that is some good advice right now, awkwardly worded as it may be.

And then the zombie starts dying from daylight, but Steve assumes the zombie is upset that he mused upon the smart idea of building a weapon, so maybe Steve needs to breath deeper.

“Had it heard me? Were we having an actual conversation?” Well, you were saying words out loud, and you were responding to noises, technically you were...

Steve starts panicking, assuming he hurt the zombie’s feelings (for the love of fuck, the stupidity hurts and yet this is exactly the kind of pain I need right now), and he winds up apologizing to the creature who is unable to think, let alone emote, for so long, he fails to realize that it is now dead.

And when I said “fails to realize”, I mean:

“Was the zombie building a fire outside my hole and trying to smoke me out? Could zombies do that?”

NO YOU FUCKING MORON

Steve decides to dig himself out just in case, and all he sees is a slab of Rotten Flesh on the ground, so yeah, RIP Zombie. You almost made the book end early.

“The fringes were charred like a burnt burger[.]” I mention this quote as an aside: if you are among the group of people that like their food being burned, you are an idiot. Carry on.

Steve, showing off more of his intellectual skills, thinks the zombie left part of himself as a trap to lure Steve out, and the following quote is me letting you know I am not lying to you:

“I darted across the sand, thinking that this was a trap and the zombie might be waiting on the hill just above me. It wasn’t. The coast, literally, was clear. ‘Hey, Dead Dude!’ I shouted, holding up the hunk of rot. ‘You forgot yourself?’“

You could say that the zombie even went so far as to lose himse

Okay, look, seriously, I’m sorry, but I can’t let this fucking thing go, I’m going off on a tangent for a bit, so I’m going to make this one big ass paragraph so you can skip it if you feel so inclined. I know that this is a blog about the Minecraft book, but fuck it, this is the maddest “The Flash” has made me this entire fucking season. I thought things were doing alright, I actually liked Ralph, despite a decent chunk of people I saw not liking him all that well, you know. And then the show decided to do the DeVoe plot, and I got kind of concerned, because they were building up DeVoe to be so smart, he’s ten steps ahead of Team Flash, and they don’t even know what game they’re playing yet (rather appropriate, since the season’s almost over, and we still don’t know what DeVoe’s fucking plan is), so I wasn’t really all that looking forward to the rest of the season. And then came “Don’t Run”, which not only introduced the “DeVoe can now steal bodies” aspect to the narrative, it also kickstarted the “Trial of the Flash” arc; sidenote, I fucking hate “Trial of the Flash”, any story that sees the main characters get fucked over so bad and sent to prison (see My Name is Earl’s second season finale/first third of season three) is dogshit, plain and simple. Granted, they wound up spending, like, four episodes on it, and then Barry is allowed to leave prison, but then they go full head first into the “DeVoe stealing bodies” thing, and I kept getting more and more upset and angry over how he kept winning, he’s so far gone that he’s drugging and mindwiping his wife, no one knows what to do, and then “Lose Yourself” happens, and just when it seems like they finally are going to stop DeVoe, it turns out this was all his plan, and the climax of the episode sees him stealing Ralph’s body, effectively killing him, fuck this episode, fuck this season, and fuck “The Flash”, good fucking night.

...except not really, because there’s still more of this book I want to read for this part.

Okay, so, before I went off on that fucking tear, Steve confirmed that the zombie was just a slab of meat now. He then realizes that the Sun is to blame. And thankfully, after getting briefly hung up on that fact (due to vampires usually having the sun weakness), Steve wisely drops it, since this ain’t normal reality, and he shouldn’t assume things. After all, you know that saying about people who assume...

But that doesn’t stop him from wondering how the hole he dug hadn’t collapsed yet, but whatever, thank God for small miracles.

However, that does allow him to realize that he can easily dig tunnels and holes for shelter, no problem, so again, thank God for small miracles.

But then Steve assumes (hypocrite) that there’s a possibility that there’s some sort of “natural sanctuary” out on the island, and this is me putting $5 even on Steve never stumbling across a Village during this book. Calling it now.

But what the island lacks in caves, it makes up for in cows, as Steve notices some chilling about, which he considers proof that the sun “chased” the monsters away.

Uh, yeah, they’re dead, bro.

But then, as if Steve did fuck all for the past few minutes (perish the thought), it’s suddenly noon time, meaning he’s going to have to go back into the hole soon. “How short are the days here?” Well, a quick Google search tells me 20 minutes total, 10 for day, 7 for night, the remainder for dusk and dawn, respectively, so, about the length of an “Always Sunny” episode.

After climbing down from (what Steve has dubbed) Disappointment Hill (which I am renaming “Fuck Steve”, because fuck Steve), Steve considers ripping off LOST.

“Using nothing but my hands I punched out enough dirt blocks to spell the word ‘HELP!’ Maybe a low-flying airplane or even a high-flying satellite will see it, I thought.”

And then the Smoke Monster will eat you, and it will turn out you were actually in Heaven the whole time, I don’t know, LOST’s ending made no sense.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself.” I agree, I’m going to stop here for now, lest I go off on another tear about “The Flash”, and this has to become the title of the blog now:

I referenced “Always Sunny” earlier, I had to.

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

On iZombie and How Putting on Different Lenses Gives You Different Readings

I didn't think about the central metaphor in iZombie much when I originally watched the show during season 1, but now that I finally finished the show I have some thoughts.

A lot of the shallow literary criticism I see on this site sort of boils down to either "you're stupid for not reading into it that this plotline is problematic even if the author didn't intend it" or "you're stupid for reading that much into it BECAUSE the author didn't intend it". So today we're going to take the position that multiple unintentional readings of the same text can and do exist and coexist without anyone being stupid (unless you're blind to queer subtext, in which case you should consult with a doctor). So let's put on some lenses in the order in which I received them and look at this piece of work.

Lens 1: The Trauma Narrative

I first watched this show when I was still living with my grandparents after my stepdad had been jailed for being a pedophile and child abuser. I was still processing what had happened to me, but I wasn't processing it well because I didn't have therapy at the time and was still living in an emotionally abusive and invalidating environment. Within 5 minutes of starting this show, I was convinced that Liv was a metaphor for trauma. And I'm not the only person who noticed that. I remember seeing a critique at the time about how if you take away the Zombieism, the Boat Party Incident could be paralleled with the trauma of acquaintance rape since it occurred at a party and was perpetrated by a drug dealer who had been offering her drugs earlier in the night.

The boat party was clearly a traumatic incident for Liv. I saw my own experiences reflected in her. She had a whole life path laid out for her, but it was derailed by an experience that made her fundamentally unable to relate to and socialize normally with other people. She broke up with her fiance and became socially withdrawn, refusing to talk about what had happened to her out of fear of the social stigma attached. She even underwent a drastic fashion overhaul and completely changed her career path. It sounded familiar. You could even equate brains in this equation to Liv seeking out an addiction in order to make herself able to function within society that isn't giving her the tools she needs to process.

Lens 2: The Racial and Straight Passing Metaphor

I hadn't really thought of this AT ALL until I started rewatching. Oh give me a break - I was a barely 20-year-old white girl who hadn't even thought about the possibility of a sexuality when I first watched it. But upon doing a rewatch and seeing some behind the scenes stuff, it's pretty clear that the writers were going for a passing metaphor.

But I'm not entirely sure that it holds up under close scrutiny.

On the surface, sure. It's a narrative about discrimination where someone must "pass" as human in order to survive. Understandable. But it sort of breaks down when you recall that it's a show about zombies who eat people. When they "rage out", I can only think of "super predators". The implication being that there are good minorities and bad minorities - the good ones being those who are willing to pass for your comfort and the bad ones being the ones who can't or won't. Especially when equating zombie struggles to LGBT issues, I see a sexually transmittable zombie virus as akin to the AIDS virus in a JK Rowling sort of "intentionally infecting people" sort of way.

Lens 3: I'm Autistic and You Didn't Ask

Something occurred to me right around the time that the zombie virus was introduced to the flu vaccine supply: This is gonna create a whole new generation of in-universe anti-vaxxers.

My immediate reaction was 'oh fuck, how will anyone in Seattle ever trust a vaccine again'? Zombie cure, what? I bet that's more zombies intentionally infecting people! The zombie truthers will have a field day!

It was a baffling choice to me from the beginning to have a group of militant zombies intentionally infecting people to protect their way of life. I simply could not wrap my head around why you would want to still have this virus and why you'd want your kids to have it. You have to eat brains to survive and you're constantly at risk of horrible symptoms if you don't get them. The entire zombie population is easily controlled by the withholding of brains by what again seems like a pretty blatant addiction metaphor. This is horrifying. Why would you want that? Then to go and intentionally infect others with this virus...I just don't get it. You should want a cure. You really should.

Of course I thought about it further and knew they were still going for their passing metaphor. Of course I didn't believe zombies deserved to be murdered in the streets. I thought all available resources should be going to making a vaccine and a cure. I didn't think this was equivalent to the struggle for equal rights we've seen in real events because of the aforementioned "raging out".

But then I thought about it again. If there's any group that the struggle more closely parallels, it's the disabled community - particularly those of us with autism. Liv is trying to pass in a world that isn't set up to accommodate her particular needs but she's able to pass as a "high functioning" zombie. Her brain of the week could be compared to a hyperfixation. "Low functioning" zombies would be the Romeros, who physically cannot "pass for human".

This is a theme that comes up in most everything I write, in some form or other. The autism passing for human metaphor. Because I've never felt like I actually do. Some days I can be Liv-ing it up, but other days I'm halfway Romero. But when I tackle the issues of not passing for NT by creating an alien or a nephilim, I'm doing it with the knowledge that passing isn't the end goal. And I guess, for that reason, I respect the choice at the end to not cure Liv.

But even this reading sort of falls apart when you think of how "high functioning" zombies like Liv would get to throw Romeros under the bus because they're too far gone to be useful to society so they're expendable. That's actually not even the main reason it would fall apart. The main reason is that they intentionally infected people with a zombie virus using a vaccine. I mean every anti-vaxxers argument is that vaccines cause this, right?

And you really don't want to equate disability to a virus. Viruses are deadly things that should be eradicated. Autism is not.

God, this reading is so particularly complicated for me. Because the closest disability parallel you can make is some strange mixture of autism and AIDS. And as an AIDS parallel, it can almost make some commentary. There's the fear and social isolation thrown at people with a confirmed diagnosis. The incredible stigma and misinformation. Also how resources are withheld from people who cannot afford to pay for them. But you really don't want this as an AIDS metaphor because, again, there were people intentionally infecting people.

Which brings me back to why would you want to be a zombie? The side effects are too severe. Even if you're dying of a terminal illness, how is that not swapping it out for something worse? And what happens to people infected as children? Do they stay children forever? Did we learn nothing from Interview with the Vampire?

And even typing that last paragraph was complicated to me, because it harkens back to arguments people have about curing autism. That it's supposedly a life-destroying disease and that being alive with autism is worse than being dead. Hell, even throw in the perpetual child thing.

I'm reading this show with all these mixed feelings. They all exist within my brain, so it's very confusing up here. I get multiple readings and I'm just one person! It's very difficult to write a supernatural metaphor for an actual social issue, because it's very VERY easy for it to have unintentionally shady readings that don't really work upon closer scrutiny. And you know why that is? Because people who consume media come from all different backgrounds and different life experiences. I still don't exactly know how I feel about the central metaphor of iZombie. All I really know is that it's weird that they didn't address the in-universe anti-vaxxers.

[singingwordwright]

Gorgeous cover art courtesy of @beyondthehunt Originally betaed by @roseglass with some final (eventual) copy-editing by @bonibaru

A Separate Peace (sequel to One Easy Answer) a Malec AU by @maleccrazedauthor

(Also on AO3)

Chapters: 5/28 Word Count: 104,900 Rating: Mature Premise: Arranged Marriage AU, Canon Divergent starting at Ep 1x12

(Please See Chapter List for Notes and Summary)

“Alexander?” Magnus stepped off the elevator outside the Institute’s infirmary just as Alec emerged from what must be Isabelle’s room. Alec’s head was bowed, his shoulders slumped, but he snapped upright the moment he heard Magnus’s voice, eyes glowing gratefully. Jace came out the door after him, but when he saw Magnus there, he patted Alec on the shoulder and murmured something about seeing him later before heading off down the corridor.

“Hey.” It took a couple very obvious tries before Alec managed to make himself smile. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier.” Magnus glanced over at the sparse artwork on the walls of the hallway outside the infirmary, decorative sketches of various healing runes. “Dot is…not doing well. I was with her all day.”

“Are you able to help her any?” Alec asked.

“There’s only so much I can do. She’s…fading.” Magnus rubbed his fingers together, frowning. “Her magic is getting weaker, and with it, her physical strength. Even though we isolated the demon toxin that went into making Valentine’s mind-control serum, we haven’t found a way to stall or reverse the illness such constant exposure caused. At this point, Dorothea is mostly focused on…preparing herself.”

“I’m sorry.” Alec reached out, stroking his hands down Magnus’s shoulders and biceps. Magnus closed his eyes at the touch, trying to release the day’s frustration.

“I’ve known Dot for over a century,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Being immortal—and having immortal friends—naturally you assume they’ll be with you forever.”

One of Alec’s hands cupped Magnus’s jaw. “Valentine’s in custody now. He won’t take any more, I promise.”

There it was again, that deadly earnest eye contact only Alec Lightwood seemed to manage. If anyone had told Magnus a year ago that he’d meet a Shadowhunter—much less a Lightwood—capable of such absolute, unimpeachable sincerity, Magnus would have laughed in their face.

It made the knowledge of what he wasn’t telling Alec that much more burdensome.

“How’s Isabelle doing?” he asked abruptly.

Alec ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end as he slumped against the wall. “Awful. It’s—it’s terrible, Magnus. I can’t believe she went through this by herself before.”

“Quite likely, it’s worse this time,” Magnus said gently, sliding a hand down Alec’s arm. “She’s adapted to no longer having the venom in her system, which sort of…amplifies the effect when she’s exposed again, especially getting a double dose like this. Alexander—” Magnus bit his lip and turned away, pacing a few steps down the corridor and then back. “You should be aware that from here on out, each time she’s exposed, the withdrawal is going to be more violent. And the more it happens, the more likely she is to hit the point of no return, where the venom withdrawal could kill her.”

“What?” Alec straightened abruptly. “What do you mean?”

“Yin fen addiction is a double-edged sword. The dependency that arises from short-term usage is bad enough. Long-term usage, particularly in larger doses, is toxic and eventually will kill the user—as will cessation of the drug.”

Alec’s face went pale, he fumbled to brace a hand against the wall, leaning forward like he’d been gut-punched.

Magnus began to pace again. “Now, some of that is the result of what the vampire venom is combined with to make yin fen; anyone who crafts it mixes it with a different potion or salve or powder to enhance or prolong the effects. Without those impurities, vampire venom is somewhat less toxic; hence the reason the Accords don’t outright prohibit vampires feeding in limited amounts from voluntary donors. But at this point, without knowing what ingredients went into the yin fen Isabelle originally used, we have no way of knowing how close she is to the threshold for toxicity or irreversible dependency.”

“I need to talk to Lydia, make sure Izzy doesn’t get assigned to any more vampire-related missions, no matter what.” Alec blew out a heavy breath, rubbing his jaw as he slumped against the wall again. “She’s gonna hate that sort of restriction. She’ll think I don’t trust her to do her job.”

“You’ll find a way to make her understand,” Magnus said warmly.

“Why didn’t we know this?” Alec demanded abruptly. “We hear about yin fen, growing up in Idris, or in the Institute, or during our training, but it’s—it’s all apocryphal, you know? There’s no real facts, just rumors about. It’s bad and how we need to avoid it. No explanation of what the consequences may be. Even Izzy, with all her training, didn’t really know.”

Magnus sighed. “Probably for the same reason you were forbidden to hear about the Circle until Valentine resurfaced,” he said, leaning on the wall with his shoulder pressed against Alec��s. “The Clave thinks burying mistakes will help keep the next generation from repeating them. Which is nonsense, of course. The repetition is the result of forgetting the lessons the past has to teach us. I’ve seen it happen century after century. Just look at what’s going on in mundane politics these days and you’ll see ample evidence of it even now.”

Alec responded with nothing more than a grunt. A moment of silence passed before he asked, “Is there anything you can do to help Izzy?”

“Aside from pain-relieving spells that won’t last very long—and I’m afraid I’m not able to stay by her side to keep renewing them for days on end—there’s not much. Right now she just needs to sweat it out. And I’m sorry, I know that sounds…callous and brutal, but—”

Alec hesitated, biting his lip. “There’s supposed to be this, um, this tincture. I don’t know what it’s made of, some rare root. Supposedly it’s made by some, uh, monastic group of warlocks…but I don’t know the Shadowhunter who suggested it, and I’ve never heard of the warlocks. I thought you all tended to function separately?”

“Ah.” Magnus paused, mulling over his next words. “I…may have heard of this group. It’s true we operate individually, so they’re unique in that regard. I won’t mention their name, because they tend to be secretive. I’m frankly astonished that your Shadowhunter knows.”

“He said they helped him overcome his yin fen addiction,” Alec muttered.

Magnus nodded slowly. “That’s possible. They do tend to specialize in healing and reversing the effects of dark magic. Catarina studied with them for a while, but she wasn’t willing to commit herself to the order. They may know remedies for yin fen withdrawal that the rest of us don’t.”

“So you think the tincture would be safe to use?” Alec asked, looking eager.

“If it came from them, then yes, it probably would be,” Magnus said after a thoughtful pause. “I don’t know how this Shadowhunter came across them, but these warlocks have a creed that proscribes doing harm, much like the Hippocratic oath mundane doctors used to take. Since, sadly, most yin fen is manufactured by warlocks, they would feel beholden to devise some sort of remedy for the damage it causes.”

“That’s good to know.” He pulled out his phone and looked down at it, then shoved it back in his pocket with a frustrated sigh. “It could still be hours before I can get this new guy vetted, and in the meantime Izzy’s suffering. Even unconscious with a somno rune, it’s obvious she’s in pain.”

Magnus grabbed Alec’s hand between both of his own. “Wait until you have confirmation. A dubious potion from unknown sources is the last thing Isabelle needs. Now, do you need to go patrol?”

“Soon.” Alec offered him a crooked smile. “But first, we decided we’d try to have dinner together most evenings, didn’t we?”

Warmth surged in Magnus’s chest. “We did indeed. Is there somewhere particular you feel like dining tonight?”

Alec pushed himself away from the wall and extended his hand to Magnus. “Yeah. My room.”

Magnus laughed, slipping his hand in Alec’s. “By all means, lead the way.”

The door to Alec’s room had scarcely closed behind them before Alec’s hand was at the back of Magnus’s neck, pulling him into a deep, urgent kiss.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all day,” Alec confessed when they came up for air, foreheads pressed together and breathing ragged. “It’s crazy, Magnus. I’ll be in the middle of something completely ordinary, filling out a report or—or whatever, and suddenly I realize I’ve been staring at the wall for ten minutes, imagining I’m with you again.”

The admission flowed from Alec without reserve or shame, so freely it took Magnus’s breath away. No attempt at machismo or stoicism whatsoever. Rather, Alec offered the words with a sense of wonder behind them; as though the feelings he shared were an unexpected treasure he never imagined he’d be able to claim.

“Is it just me?” Alec panted, trembling fingers cupping Magnus’s face as though he held something precious. Emotion swelled in Magnus’s chest until there was scarcely room for his lungs to fill, and he couldn’t help but respond with equal openness.

“No, definitely not.” Magnus ducked his head. “I, um, may have messed up a potion today because my mind wandered,” he murmured.

Alec’s breath puffed against Magnus’s cheek as he chuckled. “Twenty-four hours wasn’t long enough.”

“Not nearly,” Magnus agreed, pulling him back in for another kiss as Alec started tugging Magnus’s shirt out of his waistband.

They staggered across the room together, tripping over themselves in their haste to get rid of their clothing. Alec fell back on the bed and stared up at Magnus, his eyes full of amazement. “Is this how it always is?”

“Not even close,” Magnus said with absolute conviction, sliding his fingers into Alec’s hair.

“I mean, I really wouldn’t know,” Alec said, an edge of uncertainty creeping into his tone. “I’ve never—never felt this way.”

Magnus swallowed hard, feeling suddenly naked in a far more metaphorical sense. He wasn’t sure if it was bravery or naïveté that allowed Alec to bare his feelings with so little reserve, but Magnus wasn’t sure much more of this wouldn’t flay him alive. “Neither have I.”

Alec’s brow furrowed. “What? But you—”

Magnus cut that sentence off with another kiss. “Not like this,” he vowed against Alec’s mouth, then made sure he was too busy to speak again.

By the time they were finished, there was no possible way they could manage a full meal before Alec had to leave. Magnus conjured a plate of fruit and cheese and they ate in bed, popping bites into their mouths as they enjoyed their final few moments before duty would call Alec away.

“Do you need to get home tonight?” Alec asked, chewing slowly on a bite of melon. His lips glistened with juice and it was all Magnus could do to restrain himself from cleaning it off with his tongue. “Late night client meetings, summonings, potions that need supervision, any of that?”

“Not tonight,” Magnus said, stifling a yawn. “I had actually intended to offer to patrol with you, but helping Dorothea today depleted my magic enough that I’ll be better off resting.”

“Would you mind staying here?” The request came almost abruptly, the words rushed as though Alec had to force himself to ask even though he wasn’t certain how they’d be received. “I mean, I can understand if you’re not comfortable staying in the Institute. I just—I don’t want to be too far from Izzy until she’s doing better. But I still want to be with you.”

This Shadowhunter Magnus had married was going to be the death of him. With his heart trying to melt and trickle down his ribcage, Magnus made himself answer lightly, “I have no objections, assuming I’m not going to be unceremoniously evicted in the middle of the night by order of the Clave.”

“No, definitely not. Lydia is running operations now as my deputy and any orders from the Clave will get passed through by her when I’m out, and she’s not going to evict my…husband.” Alec closed his eyes, his lips twitching into a lopsided smile. “That still feels a little strange to say.”

“It does.” Magnus was far too mesmerized by the sweep of Alec’s lashes as his eyes fluttered open again. “It’s…not a title I ever imagined I’d be able to claim, frankly. For anyone, ever.”

“Why?” Alec asked, his smile morphing into a bemused frown. Another piece of Magnus’s heart detached itself and worked its way over to Alec for that innocent confusion, even while Magnus wondered why he couldn’t have married a Shadowhunter whose idea of pillowtalk didn’t involve examining Magnus’s soul with a scalpel and microscope.

“I suppose it varied. Not that the subject came up, really. I had mortal partners I was with for years—decades even. But most of them eventually moved on. The immortality issue was too much for them to handle, or I was too much for them to handle, or they wanted children I’d never be able to produce, or—I don’t know. Proposing to you was—”

“Something that only happened because of extraordinary circumstances.”

“I don’t regret it.”

“Me either.” Alec slipped his fingers through Magnus’s, squeezing gently. Then he took up Magnus’s hand, studying the Lightwood family ring still resting on his finger. “Shadowhunter tradition says you’re only supposed to wear this until the wedding. But usually it’s replaced by runes, and we can’t do that. All your rings are silver. Would you wear gold, if I gave it to you?”

“I’d wear anything you gave to me,” Magnus said, though he had to force the air past his vocal cords from a chest too tight to breathe properly. “Well, except acid-washed jeans. Beyond that, anything is on the table. Necklaces, rings, lingerie, fishnets, even flannel and hiking boots—though I’d probably grumble about the boots.”

Alec grinned and leaned in for an all-to-brief kiss. “You’re lucky I don’t have a fishnets fetish,” he murmured, and slipped out of bed.

“I’m sure I could fix that.” Magnus got rid of the fruit plate with an indolent wave of his hand and curled into the pillows, yawning. “I’ll just rest here until you get back.”

“Is it alright if I let the medic on duty in the infirmary know to call you if Izzy’s pain gets too bad?” he asked over his shoulder as he pulled on his boxer briefs and jeans.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” Alec shrugged into his shirt, then picked up his hastily-discarded thigh holster from the bedside table. He rummaged around in one of the drawers pushing aside a stele and various papers until he found whatever he was looking for.

“Broken stele?” Magnus asked casually, adjusting his earcuff.

“Hm? Oh, no.” Alec smiled softly, picking it up and then setting it down again. “It’s a child-sized one, made a little sturdier to withstand being dropped. I used it when I first started training. After I hit my growth spurts, I got a larger one that fit my hand better. Max used this for a while, too, but then he got his own.” He closed the drawer, leaning over Magnus for another kiss. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

An impatient rap sounded at the door and Alec sighed. “That’ll be Jace.”

“At least he had the decency to wait until we were done,” Magnus grumbled. “Go do your job, Shadowhunter. I’ll be here.”

Alec stole another swift kiss, then strode for the door, closing it swiftly behind him. Magnus heard Jace remark loudly that Alec smelled like Magnus’s cologne, but their voices faded away before he could catch the retort.

Magnus lay there a long moment, a heavy feeling in his chest as he debated with himself. Finally, the memory of the dark veins snaking across Dot’s lovely face, and the weakness that continued to plague her and wear her down, won out.

Sighing, he reached for the drawer.

On to Chapter 6!

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