#which is sort of treated as a vampire thing but i thought it felt odd

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

Court of the Undying Seasons

NA high fantasy

demigirl volunteers to be taken by the vampires instead of her friend intending to kill them for revenge, but quickly learns that’ll be impossible unless she becomes one

she has to get through her training to become a vampire or live as a human thrall, and quickly gets swept up in their world - and discovers a string of murders that could have dire consequences for them all

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 17: Oliver's Long Shot

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Captivity, crossdressing

There was little to do over the next few days, but they still passed in a blur. Oliver ate well, with ample meat and fresh vegetables at each meal, and slept well, hypnotic mantras drilling into his mind each night. He was allowed to shower each day. 

The biggest highlight of this time was his session with Miss Lily. It was awfully nice that he didn't even have to pretend to resist any more. He relaxed into the leather chair and let Miss Lily's voice sink him down into a euphoric trance, talking to him for what felt like hours but was still over far too soon.

Emily was much calmer, too. They chatted about nothing in particular, largely avoiding the subject of vampires. She no longer brought up escape, which Oliver found to be a relief more than anything. He hated the feeling that he should be coming up with plans, struggling against a clearly inevitable fate.

Despite his overall level of contentment, he still couldn't help but be nervous about what kind of vampire might buy him, the one thing Miss Lily couldn't guarantee. Her spell would cause him to submit in the face of any vampire master, but he still privately longed for a decent one. Someone gentle who would treat him well and appreciate him. Someone that would allow him to read. The idea of being chained in a basement to serve only as a meal still frightened him, no matter how effective Miss Lily's sessions were.

And then, the anticipated night arrived.

The lights snapped on, and Oliver watched as all of the captives who had had their minds erased were gathered into a small crowd and led away. He gleaned from bits of conversation among the vampires that they were to be prepared for the auction in a group, and there was general chatter of wash up this one and get the first five upstairs and did someone polish the handcuffs. 

After that, it wasn't long before Emily was fetched from her cell, head bowed low, and the hallway grew more and more quiet, leaving Oliver alone with his increasingly anxious thoughts. Today would decide his fate, possibly forever, and he had so little control over it.

"Oliver," said a familiar voice, and he breathed a sigh of relief to see Miss Lily standing by his cell. She was holding a clipboard and looked harried. "I'm here to bring you up to the prep room and make sure you're ready. I'm your handler for the auction, by the way. Don't want to trust the prize merchandise with anyone else."

"Yes, sir," he said, grateful that it was Miss Lily and not a complete stranger. She unlocked his cell and the two left the prison area -- Oliver realizing it might be the last time he'd see those cells -- and walked down the hall and up a flight of stairs. "May I ask you a question, sir?"

Miss Lily was yawning hugely in an undignified manner. "They have us up so early for this auction. The sun's still up, you know. It's torture to try to get anything done before sunset." She turned to him. "But sure, ask your question."

"What is it going to be like, sir? The auction."

"We're going to get you prepared -- clean you up and dress you in something fetching. Then, there's going to be a show floor where all of the merchandise is available for our patrons to peruse. Vampires will want to get a look at you -- but don't worry, I'll be supervising. Then the auction proper starts, and the merchandise will be put up on the block one by one," she said. "Sorry, but you're going to be last. You're the star attraction after all."

Oliver swallowed down his faint nausea at the thought of being put on display for strange vampires. As much as he'd been coerced to be ready to serve, he still retained the bulk of his mind, including his fear of being the center of attention. And he didn't like the notion of being sold last and having to wait who knows how long to learn who his new master would be.

"What sort of things can I do to improve my odds, sir?" he asked, latching onto the one thing he might have control over.

"An excellent question. I've trained you well," said Miss Lily. "This may seem like strange advice, given the circumstances, but you should be confident in your value."

"Confident, sir?"

"Yes. The vampires who wish for a mindless meal have plenty of erased humans to choose from. You'll fetch both a higher price and live a better life if you can attract a vampire who desires a servant or companion. Show off your subservience, especially if there's a vampire master you'd particularly like to buy you, and displaying a bit of your natural personality and intelligence will make you more memorable," she said. "And flaunting your neck a bit wouldn't hurt."

"...Thank you for the advice, sir," he said, although he still wasn't feeling confident. What if he couldn't do it? What if he got overwhelmed by attention and curled up into a miserable little puddle of nerves and the only vampires who wanted to buy him were ones who wanted to treat him like cattle and --

They stepped into a richly appointed dressing room, Oliver's stockinged feet sinking into the plush carpet. Lining one wall were a few racks of elaborate, sumptuous ball gowns. There was a triple mirror in one corner with a small podium, and a few chests of drawers overflowing with accessories and jewelry. One wall was dominated by a vanity with an enormous, lit mirror, the table in front a vast clutter of cosmetics.

"Florence, we're here."

An older woman wearing a smart brown suit stood up to greet them. "Ah, this must be the Lot 7 I've heard so much about," she said, looking over Oliver as though he were candy in a shop window.

"His name is Oliver," said Miss Lily, patting him on the arm. "And you'll be giving him the works."

"Of course! It's my pleasure!" she said, her grin baring her fangs. "Oh, I always love this time, the excitement before a big auction."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, because I feel sick," said Miss Lily.

"Oh, hush now, you always do an excellent job conditioning the merchandise. I'm sure it'll be fine." She took Oliver by the arms, examining him more closely, and her touch was feather light. Something about her demeanor and careful touch made him feel captivated, like he wanted to stand stock still, like his mind was zoning out. "Did you have anything particular in mind for him?"

"If all goes right, I'm going to be selling him to Lord Alexander," said Miss Lily, and both Miss Florence and Oliver were startled.

"Oh, my, you're aiming high," she said.

"Lord Alexander?" Oliver asked. "Uh, sir? I - I knew an Alexander - who was a vampire -"

"You know Alexander?" said Lily skeptically. "Oh, of course you would. He collects rare books. I'm sure he knows all of the booksellers in the city. Oh geez, I wonder what he's going to think about this if he already knows you..."

Oliver knew in his gut that it must be the same one. How many Alexanders who collected rare books and were filthy rich and were vampires could there be in one city? One of his favorite patrons, a man with an excellent eye for valuable tomes, a pleasant and sharp-witted conversationalist...

And he could be Oliver's new master.

Some buried part of him felt shame at the idea that one of his former patrons would see him this way, turned into a thrall and sold at auction, but another, stronger part of him was relieved. He knew Alexander. Vampire or no, he wasn't the sort of person that Oliver could imagine beating him or chaining him up. He might be reasonable, he might treat him well, he might value his expertise when it came to books. 

And he'd warned Oliver.

Maybe...

Maybe he would let Oliver go.

It wasn't resisting, was it, if he were simply wishing for a master that would set him free?

It was probably a long shot. After all, he was a vampire, so Oliver knew far less about him than he assumed. But taking a chance on a stranger surely wouldn't be any better.

Miss Lily gently ruffled his hair. "Would you like for Lord Alexander to buy you, Oliver?"

"Yes, sir, very much so," he said, eagerly to trade the terror of uncertainty for a slim hope. "Excuse me if it is impertinent, but I believe I would be ideally suited for serving him, sir."

"Keep that up and you just might convince him," said Miss Lily, clearly pleased.

"You've trained this one especially well," said Miss Florence. "Just look at how soft and obedient he is, while still able to hold a coherent conversation. Yes, I think I can turn this raw material into a polished jewel."

Miss Florence walked around him and set her delicate hands on his shoulders, guiding him to an upholstered stool in the center of the room. Oliver once more felt the tug of Miss Florence's particular aura, lulling him into docility, as he sat down.

"Now I'm going to leave you with Florence, but I'll be back to pick you up for the show floor," said Miss Lily. "Remember, obedience is pleasure -- you'll be very obedient for Miss Florence, won't you?"

"Yes, sir," he said, feeling that now familiar rush.

She turned to Miss Florence. "His word is 'quiet', but you might not even need it with him. Look how he's already caught in your web," she said. 

Miss Florence's hand brushed the bare skin of his shoulder, exposed by the wide neck of his frock, and he shuddered with intense feeling. "I'll do him up with something classic, something that will appeal to Lord Alexander."

"Yes, please," he said under his breath. "I would like to be appealing to Lord Alexander, sir."

Miss Florence grinned. "I don't doubt you shall be, child."

Part 16 >> Masterlist >> Part 18

Thank you for reading this story of Oliver's anticipation.

Tag list - please note if you'd like to be added

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink

[nightmarist]

ive been thinking about Cazador's "These deathless dreams hold memories of a mortal life once-forgotten. Of the boy I was, the man I became, the monster that will not end. I sleep but cannot rest, I live but cannot die. I am eternal and I grieve."

Especially in relation to Vellioth and Astarion.

He was already a powerful vampire lord, but with some of his letters + Astarion's insight I can see him wanting to be The Most Powerful vampire to avoid being put back into submission the way he was with Vellioth, similar to Astarion's want for power.

Astarion's own want for power comes mostly from a place of needing to feel secure and safe, and being The Most Powerful means no one can overpower you. So I think that's where Cazador was headed with the ritual, too, considering his own extreme abuse under Vellioth.

But I also wonder, because of that line when you Detect Thoughts without Astarion present, if he secretly wanted to be ended by Astarion and what the semantics of the reason could be.

He says he's a monster, whether he means it to be the awful things he does or the literal implication of just Being A Vampire, which is interesting.

Vellioth and Cazador both "laughed" when Cazador overtook Vellioth and became a vampire, and there are parallels in how Vellioth treated Cazador and Cazador treated Astarion so I also wonder if he intended Astarion or the other spawn to technically be heir to his power, hoping-yet-not-hoping in contradiction that one of his "own" blood could overpower him and take his place the way he took Vellioth's.

Either that it would "prove" he was a Good vampire lord / good father for his "children" to become powerful enough to overpower him (which is also a frequent sort of toxic masculinity in storytelling paralleling real life abuse from fathers to sons, you're only a "real man" if you can overpower your father)

Or maybe that it is simply Right for one of his own "blood" to overcome him since he's a bit of a pompous noble and an elf (and i wonder if that superiority bleeds into the other spawn, since astarion is also a high elf)

Or if his believing he was a monster meant he wanted to be put down despite he could have stopped being a monster any time (and the potential behind that thought process, whether because it's a power trip, a fear of being overpowered and put back into the position he was under Vellioth, or that he felt it was necessary for him to be a monster as an odd but not uncommon sort of martyr-syndrome some people believe that in order for others to be good they therefore have to be bad)

the fact ascended Astarion basically becomes Cazador but spawn Astarion can heal and get better is so incredible to me as a storytelling device and really makes me want to know who Cazador was Before.

[aiylabaysal]

Aiyla's expression was undoubtedly curious. Physical therapy for what? She wondered but was unsure if she should press; she wondered if Cece had the same predisposition for skirting the more meaningful aspects of her life in the same way her brother did? "Oh?" She decided to let her curiosities win, "I mean, pilates is easily adaptable to beginners. Blocks and other tools to assist while your muscles get used to the movements," Aiyla explained, she had always loved movement, never been able to sit still for too long, maybe it was from years of staying busy, moving to out maneuver hunters looking for a Faerie trophy, vampires who had, had a taste and were deliriously, dangerously insatiable or just the urge to see it all before it was gone. She had always been this way, at least since the change, "I've known a few people who use pilates as a physical therapy after injury. It helps your entire body, but no worries if you hate it we can just leave," Aiyla offered in earnest.

Curiosity was an insatiable thing, and Aiyla found herself asking again before she could thing better of it, "Have you ever traveled?" Aiyla herself had been all over Europe, Turkey and nearly all fifty of the continental U.S. before settling in Lunar Cove. But it in a lot of ways felt as if it was always meant to be that way. Like she was always meant to come back here. Her first life had begun and ended here, her second brought her back here even if it too ended shortly and now it seemed like no matter how many lives she had she was destined to this place. Like a beacon for home existed here somewhere and would always bring her back. "It's okay," Aiyla assured Cece warmly, "I love talking about her," she admitted with a small smile. "I think most people fear asking. Death makes plenty of people uncomfortable. They don't know how to talk about it, or what to say when you meet someone who has felt that grief," Aiyla explained, "We were very close, I'm here because of her, and most everything I do now I do because I know she'd want me to try," Aiyla inhaled, "Her name was Defne," she concluded with a far off smile.

Aiyla nodded, "The vendors take their stands very seriously; they will fine you for any sort of infraction, and if you anger the wrong person and they can't find a rule you'd somehow broken," she drew a line across her throat to indicate the severe nature of which the sellers treated the farmers market. "But they do have the best produce in town, and the only way to shop produce is in season," she proclaimed as if it were law. Aiyla nodded, "Oh, that's a lovely idea! What is her favorite...and yours?" Aiyla pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, she wanted to ask Cece if Royce had a favorite too, maybe they'd see them and Cece would simply tell her and she'd not need to ask, but that left it to chance. Aiyla thought better of it, and then decided to ask anyway, "Do all your family members have a different favorite?" Aiyla questioned and bit her tongue. Was it obvious? She wasn't sure, so she added, "My parents disagreed vehemently about the sort of flowers to keep in the home. Maman wanted irises, papa, daffodils," She shook her head; saying the terms aloud felt odd after so many years of avoiding speaking of them unless necessary, "Defne and I agreed, no matter the season, tulips."

Cecile had heard of pilates, but had never attended a class. She had also heard pilates was rather... intense, which was why she had yet to attend a class. While yoga was a good work out, it very much had a smooth and enjoyable flow to it. It allowed Cece to take her time and, if her body wasn't up for, let her take breaks if needed. She wasn't certain pilates would be as forgiving. But unable to reject an invitation, the blonde chewed on her bottom lip softly in thought before ultimately nodding her head in acceptance. "Okay! As long as they are forgiving of beginners. Yoga has become my substitute for physical therapy, but I think I could try something new." Yoga had been a fun class to take by herself, a time to clear her head, but perhaps pilates will be a new group activity for her.

At the mention of trinkets, Cece's composure practically melted as she thought about all the gifts she had received from her brother throughout the years. "Plenty." She gushed. "My brother has been all over the world, and when I was young, whenever he'd visit a new city, he'd send me a postcard along with a small trinket. I have so many I can't begin to pick a favorite." As Aiyla spoke of her sister in past tense, Cece felt her smile falter and the mood turn slightly somber. "Oh... I'm so sorry. I wasn't aware..." She was out here speaking of her siblings so freely and clearly Aiyla had lost her's. "It sounds as though you two were close?"

As Aiyla recounted the drama between the vendors, Cecile felt her eyes widen and her brows raise as she tried to keep up. "Goodness. I can only imagine the drama that would ensue if they decided to start making jams." Making a mental note of all the items the other woman wanted to find, Cece nodded her head. "Berries and eggs I can keep an eye out for. And perhaps I'll even pick up a few things. Our chef does all the produce shopping, but perhaps I'll buy some flowers for my mother if I find any that tickle my fancy."

[lehdenlaulu]

Okay, I need to reread it when I'm not half-asleep or in a hurry, but... some thoughts about Soul Taken:

This was a slightly odd book.

Mostly because, well, I completely understand that recovery is rarely linear, and even old trauma messes with your mind in unexpected ways sometimes, but I feel like Mercy was kind of unusually out of sorts and paranoid in this book. And I'm really not sure if we were supposed to see it that way or not. I mean, some of it was clearly the spider fae spike thingies messing with her, but I'm not sure if that was supposed to explain everything.

For example, I sadly enough kinda predicted that the whole 'one step forward, two steps back' dance with her attitude towards Stefan would be back sooner or later, but this felt like an almost exact repeat of what happened in Frost Burned: she suddenly does not seem to trust him for no obvious reason whatsoever, despite having recently made clear progress with him and ending the previous book on 100% amicable terms. And sure, I could headcanon that almost bipolar attitude in a number of ways, but it honestly comes across as author indecisiveness at best and bad continuity at worst at this point.

Like I said, I know recovery is rarely linear and trauma can mess with you in unexpected ways, but the part where she suddenly has Stefan nightmares she likens to Tim nightmares felt especially uncalled for (especially since I seem to recall she chose the bond with Stefan in the immediate aftermath of the Tim thing and it was something that actually made her feel better because it was something she chose, unlike certain other bonds I might mention) as did the pretty much entirely new implications that Stefan has ever used the bond against her or made her do anything against her will. I was, as a Stefan fan, honestly kinda mad about those.

And the fact that I'm not sure whether the reader is supposed to take that at face value or chalk it up to Mercy being paranoid and generally an unreliable narrator for a number of reasons, which has been established in text before particularly through other POVs.

Speaking of which, on the other hand... We got several things I didn't think we ever would, based on previous statements by the author:

We got Wulfe POV??

We got Stefan POV???

Vampires have souls now?!?

And personally, at least, those were very welcome additions. Wulfe and Stefan's narrator 'voices' both felt right and added more to their characters, as did the 'flashbacks' in the Mercy-dreaming-Stefan's-memories bits. Both we and Mercy got a better picture of the Italian vampire posse and their backstories and dynamics. But while I liked it that this book ended kinda as the echo of the ending of the previous book, with Mercy apparently being on good terms with both Stefan and Wulfe, it all feels kinda contradictory, you know? Something doesn't flow right about the plot/the vibe/the characterizations/all of it.

And once again, I'm not sure if I should blame Mercy or the author.

I've come to at least headcanon that part of Mercy being an unreliable narrator is that she's sometimes downright wilfully in denial about things she does not want to think about or confront. Like it's entirely plausible to me that there are aspects about her bond with Stefan that scare her much more than the idea that he could use it against her, which is why we apparently have to establish certain things like it being a) a two-way thing b) consensual c) unbreakable precisely because it's consensual over again, and why she sometimes randomly freaks out and starts treating Stefan as a potential threat.

Or maybe the author just really does not know how she wants to handle this. She's had several opportunities to toss the plot, and once or twice she even seemingly has only to bring it back, but like I said in the previous post, in the last book one of those opportunities was presented and she could have chosen to get rid of either Stefan or the bond and yet she chose to keep him and have Mercy reinforce the bond to save him (and tell him he's invited in her 'soulscape', and seriously consider calling him to her side against Adam's beast). But in this book, we're apparently pretending that development did not happen. Or Mercy is, at least. *sigh*

The overall situation was stressful for her in this book, admittedly. There was the whole situation with Sherwood, aka Bran's Big Bro Has Entered The Chat, and even Zee's behavior was causing her grief and adding to her paranoia. I do feel for our girl, for apparently having come to a realization that everyone she cares about is dangerous and a potential threat, her husband included.

But yeah. It was a little weird, and I hope things will make more sense in the next book.

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Strawberries and Peaches

Pairing  ::  Eric Northman  x  fem!Reader

Warnings  ::  Angst, Smut, Mentions of Blood, Bloodplay(?idk he’s a vampire so-?), Death

Word Count  ::  3,588

Summary  ::  Eric thought he had lost you centuries ago, and yet here you were again.

A/N  ::  Takes place between season 3 and 4

When you walked into Fangtasia a few nights ago, with an old acquaintance of Eric’s, he thought he had seen a ghost. The last time he laid eyes on you, you were crying. The last time he held you, you were dying. 

-

Nearly several hundred years ago, Eric first met you, a humble girl in a recluse village. Your people warned you not to venture off into the woods, and more importantly, to never speak to the people who walk only during the night. You were kind-hearted though, and so, when a blond man walked up to you after nightfall, begging for help, you couldn’t say no. You more than happily helped him and welcomed him into your home. You treated and cared for him as if he were your own family. 

Eric had never received such kindness from a human before, whether they knew he was a vampire or not. You always gave him a smile, even when people began to warn you about him. He found himself drawn to you. Your scent was like none he had ever smelled before. Strawberries and peaches, with a dash of rose petals. Whenever your fingers touched him, he swore he felt his freezing body warm-up. For the first time in his life, he found himself falling for someone, and slowly, you did too.

Perhaps your feeling for him clouded your judgment, or perhaps you truly didn’t care. When Eric had confessed to being a vampire, you hugged him and told him you’d love him no matter what. Godric tried to warn Eric that starting a life with a human would be dangerous, especially since you weren’t ready to be turned. The thought of being immortal horrified you, however, with Eric it didn’t seem that scary. Still, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to the sun. All he could do was support your decision and wait. His compassion is what killed you, and he blamed himself every day for it until eventually, you were a fleeting thought in the back of his mind. 

There were times Eric had to leave because Godric needed him. Unfortunately, on one of these trips your village, though recluse, was not impossible to find. You were attacked right before sunset by a neighboring kingdom that had recently declared war against yours. Men, women, and children died, homes were burned to the ground. Your home was spared. You were not. Eric returned shortly after the attackers had left, finding the ruins of your village. If his heart was still beating, it surely would’ve stopped. He found you in your home, laying in a pool of blood on the floor with a large slash across your torso. Your breath had stopped long ago, and your warm touch now is just as freezing as Eric’s. He fell to his knees, holding your limp body in his arms. He could see tear stains on your face, and he couldn’t help but wonder what your last thoughts were. Were you waiting for him? Crying for him to return? He’d never know, but he’d make sure he’d have revenge for your death.

-

Time went on, and Eric began to grow unsympathetic. He never allowed himself to get close to another human again as he did with you. He had the occasional flings, and there was Pam. She was a companion and received a different sort of love from him than you did. There was also Sookie, whom he felt drawn to, but he never felt the love for her he felt for you. What drew him to Sookie was the fact she was a fae. What drew him to you, he never quite understood.

You may have become a distant memory, but he’d always remember your sweet scent. Strawberries, peaches, and a hint of rose petals. He hadn’t smelled that sweet aroma since the day you died, that was until a few nights ago.

You walked in with Bishop, an old acquaintance of Eric who knew him long enough to know you. You wore a pastel yellow sundress, not knowing you’d be going to the vampire bar. All Bishop told you was to wear something nice. Hell, the man didn’t even tell you he was taking you to Louisiana. You lived on the west coast in a small apartment as a writer. Ever since The Great Revelation, you had been attempting to speak to as many vampires as you could so you could share their stories with the world. Most were hostile or rude when you questioned them, and the few that would agree had either odd demands you’d have to refuse or were clearly lying. Then, one night, a vampire showed up at your front door, claiming he knew a vampire over a thousand years old who’d tell you his story. Shortly after, you found yourself on a plane and now in a bar called “Fangtasia”.

Bishop told you to wait near the front, which you gladly did, not wanting to walk further in. You stood out like a sore thumb, and all you could do to avoid the gazes you were receiving was look at the wall of shirts they sold.

Bishop walked up to Eric’s throne, a small smile on his face. “Hello, Sheriff-”

“Stop,” Eric said in a cold tone. He narrowed his gaze on the man.  “What do you want?”

Eric and Bishop had a complicated relationship. They had known each other for centuries, but they weren’t friends. Their paths only really crossed when one needed something from the other, typically Bishop needing something from Eric.

“Have you always been this hostile?” Bishop let out a sigh. “I don’t want or need, anything Eric. I came to bring you a gift.” Eric was silent, letting the man continue. “I know you smell her, and yes, it really is her…”

Eric’s gaze moved over to you, standing by, looking at the shirts. You looked exactly the same, besides your (h/c) hair being a bit different now. His eyes softened for a moment, watching you giggle at some of the little phrases they put on the shirts. 

“...or at least, another version of her.”

Eric’s focus snapped back to Bishop. “What?”

“She’s one in a billion.”

Eric knew some people could be reincarnated, but thought the chances of that were slim to none. Godric had only encountered two reincarnated people in his life, and Eric none, until now that is. 

Without another word, Eric approached you. You were so into the silly phrases on the shirt, you nearly missed the tall man approaching you. You turned to face him, a large grin on your face as you extended your hand.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Northman. I’m (f/n) (l/n), but please, call me (y/n).”

“Only if you call me Eric.” 

Looking down at you, the corner of his lips were curved upward. Reaching out to shake your hand, he felt the same warmth he felt centuries ago when your hands touched. You tilted your head touching his hand. Yes, it was cold, but, you felt an odd sense of safety holding his hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head lightly. “I’m sorry, but, do I know you?” You couldn’t help but be forward. You’ve never felt this sense of security before.

Eric, for once, didn’t know how to reply. Technically he knew you, a different you though.

“Possibly, I’ve been around for a long time. There’s a chance our paths have crossed before.”

You hummed in response, before continuing on to tell him about why you had traveled all the way to Shreveport, Louisiana. Eric absentmindedly listened to what you had to say. In all honesty, he was just happy to see you again and agreed to any pitch you gave him. As long as he could be close to you again. Even though Bishop was constantly telling you on your journey here that Eric would say yes, you were still surprised and grateful when he agreed. The agreement was for you to come to Fangtasia each night, sit next to Eric, and he’d tell you his story.

He was one to come up with the arrangement, yet it seemed he cared little about telling you his story. You went several nights in a row, standing out due to your brightly colored clothes each day. Everyone stared at you as you sat next to Eric, except for one of the employees named Pam. She didn’t seem to care a single bit about who you were. The night usually went one of two ways. One: You’d ask Eric a question, he’d give a vague answer, and then quickly shift the focus on you. Two: Men and Women would spend the entire night trying to grab just a sliver of Eric’s attention before he snapped his fingers and Pam came to pry them away. There was one night he almost kicked a man who made a comment as to why you were so special you got to sit next to him, Eric held back. He didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than you already were in the bar.

Tonight was the second kind of night. So far, the blond had already rejected two women and one man. You couldn’t wrap your head around why people would throw themselves at him. Admittedly, you found Eric handsome, and always wanted to see him smile for some odd reason. Still, you’d never throw yourself at him like these people would. At least, you’d hope you never would.

You were usually patient, however, it had been nearly a week and you still hadn’t gotten a thing from him. You were beginning to grow impatient with him, not to mention tired from your daily schedule changing so much thanks to him as well.

“Hey, Eric, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel early tonight,” You told him as you began to pack up your things.

Eric looked at you with confusion, brows furrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried something was wrong.

You stood up, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Nothing, I’m just tired is all. Have a nice night.”

Walking out of Fangtasia, for the first time ever, you saw a large group of Christian protesters standing a short distance away from the entrance. Usually, you showed up right before sunset and left at the crack of dawn, so you had never seen such a large group. You wouldn’t have cared much if not for the fact that you had to go through the crowd to get to your car. They shouted at you as you walked through, calling you a “fang-banger” and “vampire cunt”. You ignored them, wondering why they had nothing better to do than this. Tonight was one of their rowdier nights though, and you were shoved to the ground. You scraped your hands and knees, tearing the white tights you wore under your blue dress. You began to pick yourself up, and that’s when you noticed the crowd had gone silent. You looked up, curious, seeing Eric now standing right at the front of the crowd, Pam right beside him. He was giving them a murderous glare, daring for one of them to do something so he could rip them apart. 

Once you stood up, Eric turned to you, walking over in a few steps. He grabbed both your wrists, eyebrows knitted together. “You’re bleeding,” He muttered, looking down at the scrapes on your palms. Letting go of one of your wrists, he led you back inside. “Pam, deal with these people,” He ordered right before he walked in.

Briskly, he walked you back to his office, not wanting any of the other vampires to get a whiff of your blood for too long. You had never been in the back, and you didn’t get a very good look around with Eric rushing you into his office.

“Sit on the desk,” He told you as he began rummaging through one of his cabinets for the first aid kit. It was rarely used.

You moved a few of the items on his desk aside so you could hop on. Silently, you looked around the office, waiting for Eric to walk over. After a moment, he found the kit and began cleaning one of your hands. His cold hand held your warm one gently, almost as if he were afraid he’d break you if he wasn’t soft with you. You were closer to him now than ever before, with only a foot of distance between you. You winced when he cleaned the wounds, but as he bandaged them up, you couldn’t help staring at him. You took note of his perfect, still pale, complexion, his blue eyes, and his slightly tense jaw. Little did you know, it was causing a great deal of pain for Eric to hold back and not start licking the blood that came out of your wounds. Your scent was much stronger than before and his mouth was watering, remembering the sweet taste of your blood.

When he was done with your hands, he paused for a moment, looking down at your knees. “I need you to take off your tights.”

You were confused, until you looked down, seeing your ripped tights. “O-oh, right,” you stuttered.

You hopped off and took your little blue heels with ease. Then, you reached up the skirt of your dress and pulled down your now ruined tights, tossing them right next to your bag. As you did, you could feel his intense stare on you, causing your cheeks to heat up. You were about to sit back on his desk until he told you to stand instead. He knelt down to clean the scrapes on your knees, one hand holding the back of your leg. Quickly, he wrapped it up and moved on to clean your other knee. 

Now, you don’t know why you did, but without thinking you questioned Eric. “Why’d you lie and agree to tell me your story?” You covered your mouth right after you asked him. Your mother always did tell you that you had the problem of speaking without thinking.

Caught off guard, Eric looked up at you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

Realizing you couldn’t take back what you said, you continue on. “You haven’t told me a thing about you. Why’d you lie to me about telling me your story?”

Without hesitation, Eric replied, “Because I wanted you to be with me again.”

Now you were caught off guard.

“You’re almost an exact replica of someone I cared about and lost a long time ago. You don’t have her memories, but besides that, you’re exactly the same,” He began to explain, “You look like her.” His grip on your leg tightened, “You feel like her.” He moved his head closer to the now clean wound on your knee and took a sniff, “You smell like her.” He licked the fresh blood that was coming out, “You taste like her.”

Eric watched you squirm a bit under his hold, a faint blush spreading across your face. You gripped the sides of your dress, your brows turned downwards and your lips formed a small frown. You thought he was teasing you.

He let out a small chuckle. “You even act the same as her.” He licked your leg again, your breath now shaking.

“S-stop it,” You barely managed to whisper.

You could hear the sadness in his voice and it made your heart hurt. Your eyes began to sting. Your chest grew tight. You couldn’t understand why you felt so sad for him, even though you barely knew him. Finally, he let go of your leg and stood up, towering over you. 

“What if I don’t want to stop?” Eric asked you, eyes peering down into yours.

Your heart was racing now, though you weren’t sure whether it was from fear or perhaps excitement. You knew one thing for sure, with him staring so intensely at you, you could feel a heat beginning to rise up inside you. 

He brought a hand up to the side of your face, stroking his thumb gently across your cheek. Slowly, he began to lean his head down.

With his lips brushing against yours he asked you, “What would you do?” right before pressing a soft kiss onto you. 

You leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes and gripping his black shirt. As it continued on, the kiss began to grow rough, Eric nibbling your bottom lip with his fangs. His hand on your cheek was gentle, but the hand that held your hip was tight. Feeling a small pinch on your lip, you let out a gasp knowing full well he had bitten your lip. It was enough for Eric to shove his tongue in your mouth though, and both of you tasted your metallic blood.

His hand on your hip moved lower, gripping your thigh. He pushed you back against the desk, lifting you so you’d be seated again. He pulled away from your mouth, moving down to your neck. He licked a few spots, before finally biting down and piercing your skin. You let out a soft cry, hands moving to wrap around his neck. You gripped his hair, feeling him suck the blood out of you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back your whimpers.

When he pulled away, you felt light-headed now. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling his hands come off only to swiftly pull your dress off. After pulling off your bra as well, his hands began to roam around your body. You shivered against his touch, your skin feeling like it was burning against his cold hands. He grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it lightly before leaning down and biting the upper part of it. This time, he sucked to leave a mark rather than to drink your blood. 

A hand of his moved down, in between your inner thighs. He began to rub your clit with his thumb roughly, a moan finally escaping you. He pulled away from your breast, a bloody smirk on his face.

“Well how about that, you sound just like her too,” He teased.

“Sh-shut up,” You stammered.

You moved your hands to pull at the bottom of his shirt. He pulled away his thumb, allowing you to take off his shirt, and see the bulge that had formed in his pants. 

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, “I want you to get yourself ready for me love.” He then grabbed your hand, leading it down to your panties. 

Once he let go, you began to rub yourself through the thin fabric, feeling how wet you already were. You began to rub harder and faster, watching him undo his pants. His briefs went down with his pants, allowing his hardened dick to spring free. With one hand he grabbed the hand you were using to rub yourself out, and with the other, he ripped off your panties, causing you to yelp. Then, he guided you to put a finger of your own inside you, along with his. 

“Eric,” You whimpered.

He continued to guide you, moving your hands together in and out of you at a slow pace. “Shhh, I need to get that tight little cunt of yours ready for me. Okay?”

He stuck another of his own fingers inside of you and all you could do was nod your head quickly. He took out your hand and began to pick up his pace with his fingers. With your moans, and grip on his shoulders, he could tell you were getting closer, begging for a release as you arched your back.

“Eric, please,” you mewled out.

“Please what?”

“I need you, all of you,” you begged.

He pulled out his fingered and positioned himself right at your entrance. “Alright, but only because you begged,” He said with a wink. 

Slowly, he began to push himself inside of you, cursing under his breath at how tight you were. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Eric gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he began to move, thrusting at an unbearably slow pace for you. You attempted to move your own hips, wrapping your legs around him. Knowing you needed more, Eric began to pick up the pace almost instantly, causing you to cry out loud. He slammed his mouth against yours, muffling your cries and your moans.

He was finally giving you what you needed, and you knew you’d be undone soon. You almost cried when he pulled out of you completely, until he slammed back into. You let out a loud scream and Eric groaned, feeling you tighten. He continued to pound into you, going harder each time until your body tensed up and you moaned his name loudly, finally hitting your high. Growing close himself, Eric’s thrust had a rhythm before, but now they grew ragged. Soon after you, he hit his climax, cumming inside of you. He proceeded to ride himself out in you and your breath slowly began going back to normal.

Pulling out of you, he placed a quick kiss on your lips. “I hope you know I’m never letting you go now,” He muttered.

“That’s fine because there’s no one else I want to go with.”

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 3

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

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Chapter 3

1996 (Three years later)

Liam got a letter in the mail that morning, another one, from New York this time. Liam didn’t know anyone in New York who would send this kind of letter. In any case, they were all from the same person, no matter the constantly changing postmark, and they all said the same hateful, frightening things.

Liam had just tossed this one into the drawer with the others when Kurt appeared out of nowhere, as only he could. Liam had done a bit of research on vampires in the three years he’d known Kurt (as much study as he could on something that was supposed to be fictional), and teleportation was not a common vampire ability. But then Kurt was not a common vampire.

“Morning,” Kurt said, dropping into a kitchen chair. He looked a bit bed-rumpled, but Liam honestly wasn’t sure whether it was because Kurt had been sleeping or because Kurt thought that humans should look bed-rumpled in the morning. “Been for your run yet?” Kurt asked.

“I was just getting ready to go.”

“Want company?”

“You’re not dressed for it,” Liam pointed out, waving a hand at Kurt’s blue jeans, and that caused Kurt to vanish again. Liam was lacing his shoes when Kurt reappeared, this time wearing athletic shorts and, crucially, no shirt. Liam’s fingers tripped over themselves and got tangled in his shoelaces like clumsy people with jump ropes.

Liam had seen Kurt without his shirt on occasionally over the last three years, most memorably when Kurt had shown Liam the scars he still carried from the earliest thing he remembered— a Bronze Age battle. There was a scar above his heart and two on his left shoulder, the marks of flint arrowheads, presumably the wounds that caused his death.

But that was not what caught Liam’s attention when Kurt was shirtless. Kurt had the build of a fighter: a slender waist, sturdy legs, broad shoulders and strong arms. His chest was smoothly muscled around the scars. Meanwhile Liam had the body of a thirty-year-old history professor who went for a run most mornings, but also had a fondness for rocky road ice cream.

Liam wasn’t sure if Kurt knew about the threatening letters. He was also not sure if Kurt knew how fervently Liam desired him. If he was aware of either, or, most importantly, felt any desire in return, he had never said. And while Liam was sorting out the shoelace mess, Kurt pulled on a shirt, so the distraction passed.

The morning was cool, with fog still gathering around the trees. While they ran, Kurt told Liam about a morning in 1914 outside of Ypres, when snow had fallen silently, covering fallen leaves and fallen soldiers alike.

Liam had learned by now that Kurt did not feel the cold. It must have been obvious during a winter campaign, when Kurt’s fingers did not stiffen with frostbite, or his toes blister with trench foot. Sometimes, Kurt had told him, his fellow soldiers thought of him as an indestructible good luck charm. Sometimes they looked on the only member of their group to emerge from a battle unscathed and called him a demon.

A countless number of Kurt’s stories ended with him holding a fellow soldier as he succumbed to injury and passed out of this world.

When they turned back onto Liam’s street, there was a blue car in Liam’s driveway that belonged to one of Liam’s students, Martina. She was standing beside the car, waving at them. Of course, she wasn’t there to see Liam.

When Liam got out of the shower fifteen minutes later, he was surprised to see Kurt in the kitchen alone, drinking the coffee that Liam kept on hand for him. Coffee and water were the only things Liam had ever seen Kurt eat or drink. “Martina didn’t stay?” Liam asked.

“No. She was just returning my jacket.” Kurt looked melancholy for a moment, a brief flash across his features before it faded back into his usual somewhat detached expression. “She met someone else. He’s moving in.”

Liam looked at him in shock. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Kurt shook his head. “I’m happy for her. She’s about to graduate anyway, so we were going to break it off.”

Martina was not the first of Liam’s students that Kurt had dated. Kurt was very good about it, really. The students he chose were from the graduate program, so all in their mid-twenties or older, and they’d all known what Kurt was. They’d chosen to be a part of his life for a while, providing him with companionship, and, though they didn’t usually state it so plainly, with blood.

“I don’t get attached,” Kurt said. “And I pick those who won’t get attached to me. I don’t have the patience for a line of angry exes. Better to be with those who will part as friends.”

“Have you ever been wrong?” Liam asked. He didn’t look at Kurt, carefully focusing on the toaster and butter dish.

“Accidentally broken someone’s heart, you mean?” Kurt asked. “Or lost my own?”

“Either.”

“Not in a long time.”

“Ah.” Liam buttered his toast with perhaps more force than was called for.

“I investigated him, though. Martina’s new boyfriend. His name is Devon.”

“Investigated,” Liam repeated. He sat down at the table opposite Kurt, accepting the cup of coffee Kurt passed to him.

“He seems like a very nice man. And he loves her.”

“So you read his mind.”

“I can’t read minds.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

Kurt looked amused. “I know. But not because I read your mind. In any case, Martina is my friend. She’s under my protection. And so are you.”

This last part was said gently, but Liam caught its meaning as overtly as he was meant to. He let out a groan and pushed away what was left of his toast. “How long have you known?”

“Long enough. The letters are mailed from around the country, but I am almost certain the sender is local. He probably travels a lot, and also has other people mail the letters without knowing what’s in them.”

“That’s what the police think. They also think they’re not serious.”

Kurt seemed immensely unimpressed by this opinion. “So did you do something that some bastard holds a grudge for? Murder his wife? Steal his parking space? Or do you think it’s because you’re gay?”

Liam’s sexuality was not something that had come up in conversation before, so Liam was a bit startled to hear it accurately described. “I have no idea,” he said. “I certainly don’t recall murdering anyone.”

“I’ve looked over the letters. No fingerprints, and I can’t find anything distinctive about the printer he uses.” When Kurt got emotional, he wore it strangely, as if he could be both agitated and unaffected at the same time. Right now his green eyes were bright and his mouth tight. His fingers curled sharply around his coffee cup, blanching white where they gripped too hard. But the rest of his body was still relaxed in the chair, stretched into the sort of lazy pretzel shape that sore legs often took after a run. Liam sometimes wondered what Kurt would be like if he stopped trying so hard to seem human.

“They’re not serious,” Liam told him.

“I’m not convinced of that. You really don’t have suspects?”

Liam shrugged. “Nobody in particular.”

“Ex-lovers?”

Liam focused on his coffee. “I haven’t had one of those for some time.”

“Family?”

“It’s just my sister and me, and we get along fine as long as she can pretend I’m not gay.”

Kurt’s fingers clenched around the coffee cup again. “This is a very intolerant period of history.”

Liam laughed, not unkindly. “It is all history to you, isn’t it? This is just another era to walk through. How odd to—”

“Stop trying to change the subject. Colleagues?”

“I’ve never had any problems. Anyway, the letters are all anti-university. Anti-technology. Unabomber-type stuff.”

“I’m not sure I trust the subject matter. Why send anti-technology missives to a history professor? It still feels personal to me. The one you got today talks about kidnapping you, Liam. That’s a very intimate threat.”

Liam groaned. “How the hell—”

“I read it while you were in the shower.” Kurt did look a little regretful, at least. “Look, I know you don’t like me being all— the way I am—”

“If I minded the vampire stuff, I’d never have agreed to work with you. What I object to is your being sneaky and intrusive on an entirely human level.”

Kurt seemed surprised, which was not a common look on him. He stared at Liam for a moment before saying, “Well, I object to being kept in the dark about your safety.”

“Kurt—”

They were interrupted by the ding noise that Liam’s computer made when he received an email. Normally Liam might ignore it, but at the moment, he welcomed the distraction.

The email was from a colleague in Germany, and as Liam read it, he forgot all about their argument. “Kurt,” he said, in an entirely different tone than the one he’d just used. Kurt was behind him in an instant, moving with that silent speed he had.

Liam traced his finger across the screen, aware that he wasn’t supposed to do that, but he hadn’t quite yet learned not to treat emails like they were pieces of paper. “Look at this. Someone found an arm bone with a flint arrowhead in the bank of the Tollense River in Germany. It’s not— it’s not a giant battle, not yet, just with one body, but it’s the right place, the right time. My colleague thinks this could be what we were looking for, and I think he’s right. Your earliest memory. Your origin. It could be Tollense.”

Kurt had knelt down so that he could read the screen more easily. When he turned his head it brought his mouth so very close to Liam’s. “You did it,” he said softly. “You found it.”

“Well, I didn’t find anything. Someone else—”

“But you put your neck on the line, theorizing about a battle in a time and place no one expected.”

“It’s not like I don’t have eye-witness evidence.”

“But no one knows that. You’ve endured a lot of controversy, trying to help me.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that. I care about—” Liam cut himself off before he could say it.

Kurt seemed to hear it anyway, because he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Liam’s.

It was a light kiss only for a few seconds, until Liam made an intensely hungry noise and Kurt responded to it, bringing his hands up around Liam’s face to hold him steady. Kurt deepened the kiss, sweeping into Liam’s open mouth with his tongue.

Liam had thought about a kiss like this, thorough and overwhelming, fantasized about it, wondered if it might happen someday because Kurt would read his mind and know how much Liam wanted it. But Liam was suddenly sure in that moment that Kurt could not read minds, or at least, that he’d left Liam’s to its secrets. If he had read it, he would have known not to kiss Liam. Because unlike the students Kurt sought out, Liam was already attached, far too much, to this utterly alien man who kissed with a technique undoubtedly honed over millennia, ranging from soft to strong all in a single lick of his tongue, instinctively knowing which parts of Liam’s mouth were most sensitive, and all with a kindness Liam had never before felt.

It was the kindness that made Liam put his hands up and push Kurt gently away. Liam didn’t want kindness at that moment, didn’t want Kurt offering this kiss out of gratitude or friendship, or because Kurt knew Liam was attracted to men and would probably enjoy it. Even because he was worried about Liam’s safety. Kurt was three thousand years old, and he’d no doubt live for many thousands of years after this. Liam’s lifespan was a drop of water in the river of Kurt’s life. Kurt had said it just this morning— he would never allow himself to get attached.

After the kiss broke, Kurt looked at Liam searchingly for a moment, and then moved away.

“We should— we should visit Germany,” Liam managed to say. Kurt just nodded.

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

The battle of Tollense is a real thing! Here is the wikipedia and another article.

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

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Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

[marvel-and-mischief]

Daffodils

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Max Phillips x GN!Reader Words: 1900 Warnings: unrequited love, angst, character death (sort of, it’s vampires!), descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of dying, descriptions of violence Synopsis: Max is selfish, thoughtless, egotistical, and it might just lead to your downfall

Daffodils: Latin name is ‘narcissus'; based on the tragic myth of the beautiful Greek hero who fell in love with his own reflection 

💐

You could see him now, standing in his office, pulling a blue steel pout in the mirror and fixing his hair with a comb. It was eight-thirty in the morning and Max was readying himself for the day as he usually did, putting a smile on his face and looking good despite the fact he never dealt with customers in person. You supposed it was a state of mind; if he looked good, he felt good and could charm whoever was on the other end of the phone. 

You’re not sure if he knew you watched. Where your desk was situated on the other side of the room, you were the only person in the office that could see what he was doing. You’d never caught him looking at you, or even noticing you for that matter, but that’s how you liked it. Blending into the shadows, head down, getting your work done, and then you could go home on time. 

Giving himself a wink, Max turns around in one smooth pirouette and strides out of his office to greet everybody with wide arms and a toothy grin.

“It’s Monday morning, I know, it sucks,” Max rolls his eyes playfully and puts his hands on his hips in an exaggerated manner, “but if we drive our sales up today then the rest of the week will be a breeze. Come Friday we’ll be sipping on cocktails and laughing at Josh over there, hey Josh,” Max waves sarcastically at a man in the corner who is trying to shrink into his chair and hide his face behind his hand. Everybody except you and Josh titter at Max’s jab. 

Max claps his hands loudly to silence the room and waves in a ‘shoo’ motion to get everyone back to work before returning to his office. It reminded you of a theatre play, how rehearsed it all was, how perfectly he moved from one action to the other. 

That was why you’d started to watch him in the first place. Your train always got you into work an hour before you needed to be there and you’d noticed how he rehearsed things in the mirror in his office before anyone arrived. Motivational speeches to himself, happy smiles and sad smiles, even different types of winks (you knew he preferred his left eye). It was fascinating to see your boss, who was usually brazen and over-confident, practicing his personality for the day. 

Being unnoticed gave you the opportunity to observe him when he thought no one was looking. Like how you never saw him eat anything, only drink from a large flask which he never poured out into the cup that screwed into the top, which was odd but then he was an odd man. He had a subconscious quirk where he’d run a finger along his side parting and sometimes he’d catch himself doing it and look mournfully around his office, as though he was remembering something he’d rather forget. 

But you tried to get noticed sometimes, tried to bring attention to yourself in small ways, just to remind him you existed, that you were there. 

You brought lemon candies back from your beach vacation last Summer, had said you’d brought too many gifts for your family and thought he’d like them. It wasn’t true of course. You’d specifically looked for something to buy him but realised you didn’t know what he liked so had grabbed them in a last minute panic from a little gift shop next to the gas station. He mumbled a thank you without looking, not expecting anything more than that. But it had stung when you found them on top of the trashcan outside the office building. By the front door. He must have known you’d see them as you left the office that day and he didn’t care. Still, it hadn’t dissuaded you.

Sometimes Max would need someone to look over numbers on a Friday night and he’d asked you (via an email). You didn’t mind, there were always regular trains to catch and it’s not like you had anyone waiting for you at home. You tried to use those nights to pry open the enigma that is Max Phillips. You never got far.

The first time you stayed behind had mostly been a silent one. Max hunched over his computer whilst you sat opposite him. You had asked him about his weekend, only to receive a shrug and a muttered ‘out with the lads’. 

The second time you helped him with the numbers you’d managed to peak his interest when you placed your phone down on his desk, your screen lighting up to reveal your favorite movie as your background wallpaper. He’d looked impressed, a conversation starter on the tip of his tongue but instead of saying something, he’d taken a deep breath and pursed his lips before turning back to his computer. 

Had you offended him without realising it? Did he not like the way you worked? You couldn’t put your finger on why he treated you the way he did. 

-

Tonight was another Friday night that Max had asked you to stay behind, but it was far from ordinary. For starters there was a mug of freshly brewed coffee sat on your side of the desk when you entered. You looked questioningly at Max.

“Don’t you like coffee?”

You hurried to nod and sat down. That was possibly the most Max had ever spoken to you. It was what you’d always wanted; for him to acknowledge you as a member of his team, as a hard worker, as a human being. Perhaps you should have responded but you were in shock. You tried the coffee once it had cooled down, it was exactly how you liked it, how did he know?

The rest of the hour went by without either of you talking. You stood from your seat and handed him the closed file.

“Everything’s in order,” you said, putting your coat on and picking up your purse, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Max grunted something unintelligible as you walked to the door. He spoke a sentence to you today, maybe it’ll be two sentences next week? You internally kicked yourself for letting him walk all over you. He didn’t care for you the way you cared about him, he didn’t think of you as much as you thought of him, when would you learn?

Before you passed the glass windows of his office you looked back to see Max looking in the mirror, fixing up his hair and smoothing down the front of his three piece suit. He looked in the mirror more than he ever looked at you. That should be enough to shake some sense into you. He’d never like you more than he liked himself, but the heart didn’t work on logic. Unfortunately. 

You shook your head and left him there to gaze into his own reflection.

It was dark and cold in the early evenings so pausing to pull on gloves and a woollen hat in the foyer before stepping outside was a must. Just as you were adjusting your hat over your ears you heard movement from a supply closet to your left. You froze, listening out for anymore noise, hoping it was just your imagination. It was deathly silent.

If it came to it you’d run back to the elevator and go and ask Max to check it out for you, damned if it made you look pathetic. If it was someone messing about Max could deal with it, if it was a trapped animal then you’d be doing the cleaning lady a favor in the morning by letting it loose tonight. 

You startled at the noise, turning just in time to see the door knob of the supply closet being rattled from the inside. You weren’t a naturally brave person but you were curious, some would say nosey. You found your feet creeping towards the closet.

“Is someone trapped in there?” You received no reply as you placed your hand on the door knob and slowly turned.

The door flew open suddenly and you were faced with a monstrous contortion of skin and bones, sharp fangs flashed in front of your eyes and then you were hitting the ground. You felt a hot sting of excruciating pain at your neck, like your flesh was being torn apart and warm liquid dribbling down your skin and soaking your shirt.

Your vision became blurry and unfocussed but you think you saw Max, or heard him shouting your name and in a haze of motion the man at your neck had been thrown across the room and then it was his face you were seeing hovering above yours. 

“You stay with me, you understand?” He was panicked you realised, his voice becoming shrill as he held you in his arms, a hand pressed to your throat to stop any more blood pooling out. 

“I’m sorry, I tried to prevent this, I didn’t want this for you.”

You frowned up at him, wandering what he meant. What was happening to you? Why did he care when he didn’t even look at you on any given day?

His brow was furrowed, his lips turned downward, a look of pity in his eyes and it made you mad. Furious. You should be pitying him. This man who loved nobody but himself, who cared for nobody but himself. He was selfish and prideful and didn’t deserve your kindness. 

The adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt the overwhelming urge to grab him and tear him limb from limb, like you saw predators in documentaries rip apart the flesh of their prey. Max saw the change in your eyes before you attempted to reach for his neck and swiftly held you to his chest in a strong grip.

“I promise I’ll help you through those urges,” he whispered into your ear but it sounded like being underwater when someone was shouting at you from above, you couldn’t make sense of it.

“I thought, if I could keep you away from me then perhaps no one would notice you,” Max carried on but all you wanted to do was shut him up, press your fist into his mouth and stop him talking.

“Perhaps if I’d done the opposite, protected you by keeping you near me, this wouldn’t have happened,” Max carefully pressed your head to his chest, away from his skin so you couldn’t do him any harm. He knew exactly what you were going through and he wasn’t going to let you be alone like he was.

“Because of course I noticed you, how could I not?” 

You were crying now, and your head was pounding too loudly in your ears but his words were getting through to you at last. He’s noticed you? Then how could he treat you so terribly?

“Keep breathing, remember how it feels, it won’t be long before that stops.” 

You heaved in a sobbing breath and gripped onto his forearm that lay across your chest.

“What’s happening to me?” You managed to croak out. But did you really want to know that you were dying? 

“You’re being reborn.”

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @phoenixhalliwell​ + @max--phillips​ 

[certifiedceraunophile]

Hiya!! Caroline Forbes for the character game, if you would be so inclined.

I am so so sorry I'm so late to this ask, but I'm hoping better late than never :) [like seriously I’m answering this a month late I am sooooo sorry!!]

First impression

My first impression of Caroline was during that scene at the grill, when she was drunk and like "I try so hard and nobody goes for me, nobody wants me, everything is a competition and I try so hard and NEVER win" to bonnie, and honestly calling myself out here, but I hated her in that moment simply bc I could see wayyyyy too much of myself in her, and I felt sort of vulnerable seeing such a blatant reflection of my deepest insecurities just sitting there in front of my eyes, but at that moment I wasnt looking to self reflect or read into it too deeply [I was there for mindless cheap entertainment] so my first basic impression I believe was to absolutely scoff at her, and I was like, I already dont like this chick, but also I was expecting her to be sort of a watered down regina george character, bc that's how they introduced her in terms of how she behaves w elena, she was supposed to be the shallow passive aggressive vapid bitch who's friendship is performative at best and toxic at worst, the way she treats Bonnie as a convenient sound board and replaceable company did not go unnoticed by me, these parts I can say I did not relate to, however I saw them for what they are, which is the makings of a headbitch mean girl who's imminent “untimely” death will not be mourned so much as alluded to constantly as a warning call and/or a cautionary tale for all the nameless dangers that are lurking in their godforsaken town, basically I expected her to die as a plot-pusher and then her death + the aftermath would've served as a convenient point of mild conflict between stelena to you know add to the "forbideness" of their relationship, so at this point all my first impressions were exactly what the writer's intended and honestly I was just waiting for her to die since it was clearly just a matter of time before that happened, but at the same time, I might not have been completely aware of this during that period of time, but the grill scene struck a chord with me and stayed with me quietly for a very long time, months later after reading several ffs and metas I can pinpoint that I was basically stuck between finding solidarity w Caroline in having the same insecurities as the character, and hating the fact that I had those insecurities at all to begin w and how vividly they were shown to me through Caroline without any restraint or cushioning.

So yeah you could say her character itself left me both vulnerable and seen at the same time so it was an odd mix of finding comfort and empathizing with this fictional character, but predominantly I was feeling.....agitated and hiding away from the truth that she represented to me; these two opposing feelings conflicted with one another constantly leaving me in a place where I mostly did not know if I liked her at all and if I didnt like her was it because she was written to be a mildly irritating side character [that I couldnt be bothered to emotionally invest in] or just because I saw too much of myself, especially the parts of me I dont particularly care for, in her to ever like her.

So yeah on one side I could say I wasnt deeply bothered [in a good or a bad way] by her, and only in passing acknowledged her to be the plot-convenient side character she was in the very beginning, but on the other hand, I somehow latently knew that it was so much more than that, and I am so so glad it was in fact the latter of the two that was true.

Impression now

Listen my impression of her now, cannot be encapsulated into a well thought out explanation of why I think so and so of her and how it affects me, but I think personally right now if you ask me what I think of Caroline, I would say I see her and I think, 

Oh I....know you, I see you everyday when I think about the kind of growth I want to have, I see myself in your past and while you may have grown I havent, but I can see it’s possible, however fictional and non-existent you are, if it’s possible for you, it’s possible for me.

[Also I just wanna add here, that in no way am I, at this moment, referring to canon!caroline directly but I am strictly thinking of the Caroline I have built in my head and the growth I projected onto her when I saw her transition from vapid blonde shallow bitchy human [and here’s the thing she wasnt vapid or shallow even in her human days but the insecurities still made her feel that way] to confident, painfully real, optimistic, loyal and so overflowingly full of love-vampire who has forgiven her past self but also loves her past self because no one thought she was worth that but Caroline Forbes thinks 16 year old Human Caroline Forbes deserves just as much love as Vampire Caroline Forbes and if no one else is brave enough, real enough to give that to her she will give it to her herself, Which to me is beautiful and resonates so deeply with me and that is exactly what I would say is my current impression of her; A girl so full of love and light, even her own shadow self cannot escape it.]

Favorite moment

Every moment she beats up a guy is my favourite moment and every time she insults Klaus with a smile on her face is also my favourite moment.

Idea for a story

Ok so I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while and I’m really excited to make it into an extensive multichap work when I do get the time, but you know how in Legacies [gag] there’s this episode where in an alternative universe where Hope doesnt exist at all, Caroline and Klaus are the cutest Enemies of the State couple to ever exist and they both are basically fucking shit up to the point where the humans wanna end the supernatural world as they know it, in legacies the reason behind the supernatural uprising was something unnecessarily sordid and stupid but I am basically thinking of something else but will lead to the same alternate universe we see in legacies, the basic premise rn is that  Klaus and Caroline are the Supreme leaders of the supernatural community and are leading them against the humans in this war that has broken out all over the world in a bid to end the supernatural world altogether, and I kind of have it outlined to take them from However Long it Takes my Last Love to let’s discuss our next strategy to over throw all opposing world governments on this table and then proceed to fuck on it.

So yeah I kinda wanna say stay tuned for that, but I wont cuz seriously I have no faith in myself lmao.

Unpopular opinion

As much as I love to criticize other characters [mostly Elena] for being hypocritical twats regarding Caroline’s choices, Caroline herself is a hypocrite multiple times through out canon, but I myself find that I am ok with that, since I never expected her to be perfect and her hypocrisy only makes her more real in my eyes since every time she is a hypocrite she is called out on it and made to face her own double standard.

Favorite relationship

I wanna say Klaus, like seriously I really really do,  but for me personally the relationship my Vampire!Caroline has with her past human self will always be the most beautiful enriching and hope giving thing.

That and also her relationship with her mom and how it finds this transformation from a place where they constantly hurt each other and are estranged from each other to a place where they try so hard to understand and love each other and finding the other to be an unmovable pillar in their life that strengthens and holds them up also resonates with me deeply.

Favorite headcanon

This one

[obscureoperations]

i’ve had this random concept in my head of martin talking about his s/o on the radio and s/o hearing it and figuring out he’s the count possibly confronting him etc

Oh my god I love this idea! Some of my favorite scenes were when he was on the phone. The way the radio station was his outlet. I know he would talk to them if he met someone. Not completed, there will definitely be a part two. I’m in the middle of trying to go through my asks.

~ For the most part things had been going quite well, you had been seeing Martin for a little over a month. You first noticed him when you went into Cuda’s shop, he seemed to notice you as well, he was extremely flustered when you stepped to the check out. You made small talk as he bagged your items, he seemed to go out of his way not to look at you. When he finally did, you were taken aback, he was even more breathtaking up close. You made it a point to stop in almost every other day, eventually the two of you built up a sort of friendship. He told you when he was off, when he would usually go on break...after a few weeks you finally asked him out. You were a nervous wreck for some reason, even though he knew the worst he could do was say no. He agreed instantly, and things pretty much bloomed from there. At this point the two of you were practically inseparable.

You made it a point to get him away from the hose, you started to look at the old man in a different light. If Cuda was as bad as Martin said, you didn’t even feel comfortable spending money at the shop. Your relationship turned physical faster than you liked to admit, but being with Martin felt so natural. There was a certain type of innocence about him--but at times you felt as though he was hiding something. 

He canceled plans with you a couple nights ago, which was odd--he usually went out of his way just to see you. You tried not to give it much thought,after all he had his own life. He claimed it had something to do with the family. He made up for it ten fold the very next day, he didn’t leave your side until right before dinner. 

You were supposed to see him later tonight. He told you that he would crawl out of his window and meet you around ten. You already knew what that meant. He wanted to stay the night, and that was completely fine. You had the day off from work and kept yourself mostly preoccupied. Running errands, tidying up. You wouldn’t have to do laundry for weeks. A strange sort of anticipation bubbled at the pit of your stomach for mostly the entire day. You were excited to see him sure--but there was something else. He had been acting pretty strange lately. He was more tired than usual, shaky almost jittery. He seemed to be more prone to headaches. The light really bothered his eyes, he was thirstier than normal, when the two of you were together he was more dominant than you were used to. You knew he couldn’t possibly be on drugs. You planned to ask him if anything was wrong tonight--if there was you could surely help.

It was about eight thirty when you flounced onto the bed, already eagerly glancing over to the clock. Questions had been forming in your head for most of the day and at this point you just wanted to know if something was wrong. With a sigh, you decided to turn on the radio, maybe some music would calm your thoughts. You ended up settling on your favorite talk radio station-- you were so preoccupied lately you hadn’t listened to it in weeks.

“Alright guys looks like we have a special treat, Guess who’s decided to grace us with his presence tonight?!”

This weird cheesy spooky tone starts to play in the background “You guessed right...it’s the Count!”

Your eyebrow immediately shot up towards your forehead, you remember listening to that guy. You followed his story intently, it was in fact a little before you met Martin. The guy was odd...to say the least--but if anything a brilliant storyteller. He claimed to be some sort of vampire, he needed blood to survive--he’d been around for eighty four years. He would stalk his victims before sedating them with some type of drug-- after that he would drink their blood. It was… interesting to say the least. Not your typical idea of a vampire, but he always stressed that it’s not like in the movies. He didn’t have a whole lot of women fawning over him desperate for him to take them in the middle of the night. If anything, he just seemed like this lonely kid, you almost felt bad--he seemed to really believe what he was saying. You always tried to picture what he would look like. He had this odd...cryptic way of speaking. He almost reminded you of Martin in the way that he would phrase things. You knew it was virtually impossible. Imagine you dating an actual ‘’vampire’’

“It’s been a good while Count, how the hell are ya?”

“Good. Really good.”

“Alright Man! We were starting to get a bit worried, you pretty much vanished for a month. Our listeners were getting antsy!”

“They were?” You had to bite down on the insides of your cheeks. He sounded genuinely confused, it was actually pretty adorable.

“Yeah man! Every other day.. “Hey you guys hear from the Count… whatever happened to the count? Do you think he got caught?!”

“I’m fine… I’m always fine.”

“Good! Thats  really good. Ya gotta tell us, what the hell has been goin on with you? You scope out any new victims… are ya feeling shakey? What’s happenin’??”

“Well.. yes and no. I haven’t really felt shaky until recently. But thats all over now. I’m okay.”

“Ohhh did you find a new one? A pretty lady perhaps?”

“No! I-I mean… It was just a bum. I can’t really stalk them like I used to. I just really needed blood.”

“You can’t stalk them...what does that mean? The cops onto you?” Obnoxious fake sirens begin to play.

He’s silent for a moment. “Shit… too much I think we lost him. Count...Count are you there?”

“I’m  here.” He says after a moment. You were on your stomach, clutching a pillow beneath your chin. The more and more he spoke, his voice began to sound so familiar. 

“I sort of met someone…’

More obnoxious sound effects, you can hear bursts of confetti  and party horns.You rolled your eyes, you wanted him to ‘speak’ Why did he suddenly sound so much like Martin?

“You met someone Count?! See I told ya man...just give it some time. When did you meet em?”

“About two months ago..” Your heart instantly sunk. It wasn’t possible, nope. No way in hell.

“How did you meet them?”

“I-  It was through work. They came in, and they were so pretty. I just---”

He’s silent for a long while.  Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. You remember hearing him talk about someone who was new in town shortly before you and Martin first  met. He told the hosts that he saw them at the train station, he instantly just knew that they were for him. Jay and Rick continued to ask probing questions. Asking if he meant that he found his next victim. The Count vehemently denied, simply stating that they were simply beautiful. He just wanted to learn more. You had arrived in Braddock about three months ago, you tried your damndest to recall the train ride. Did you see anyone who looked remotely like Martin? The answer was no. Surely you would have spotted him.

“ So you’re seeing someone Count… what are they like?!”

“They’re amazing.” He answers immediately this time. 

“They like to talk a lot, but it’s okay. I can tell they really listen to me…”

“Count, you sound smitten. “

“I am. I get to see them later tonight.”

If you weren't already sitting down, you were sure that you would have fainted. There were hardly any questions now. This had to be Martin. You wanted to puke, yet you were almost relieved. Shortly before you met you were listening to the Count in a certain way. You were repulsed by his actions, but his story intrigued you. If you really thought about it, you had developed a bit of a crush.

“So tell us more.. Do they know how you feel?”

“I think so. I haven’t really thought about blood since we started doing the sexy stuff..”

More fake confetti and sirens, you roll your eyes. At this point, you were convinced that you were dreaming. This couldn’t be real, absolutely not. Martin?

“Oh ho hooo… so it’s like that? Do you see things progressing?”

“I do, I really do. But- I’m scared.”

“Scared of what man?”

Radio static, he’s silent for an inordinate amount of time. At this point you were practically trembling. A whirlwind of emotions. Shock, betrayal, disgust, and relief. You really needed to talk to him right now.

“I’m scared because I think I’ve fallen in love.. A- and when I tell them… I’m gonna tell them. About me. I just know they’re going to leave.”

You continued to lay in the same position for a little over an hour. So that was it. You were right. You had no idea when tears began to spill from your eyes, but they did,they practically soaked through the pillow. You couldn't find it in you to move, or even fetch the glass of water that you  so desperately craved. Your throat was dry, you had no idea why you were so upset-- Rather you did. 

Why couldn’t he just tell you?

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest when you hear a faint tap at the window.  You bolt up almost instantly, desperately wiping at your eyes. You looked a mess, there was no way to hide the fact  that you had been crying. With a deep breath, you unlock the window,

[arigatouiris]

redamancy // akaashi keiji x reader (2/2)

Author’s Note: There are far too less notes for this story, but it’s alright. I’ve started to understand and like writing on tumblr for myself. :”) It’s the sort of self-motivation I needed, and I guess I do have it. But, if some of you really like this, do let me know? Also, I have many more strange ideas for fics. Let me know if you would like to see more of them! :”D

Word count: 5k+

Pairing: Vampire! Akaashi x Golden Blood! Reader

Summary: You were head over heels for Akaashi Keiji.

He was a perfect gentleman—hard-worker, handsome, kind, shy, and confident; a perfect blend of all the right things that a human boy could have at the age of 18.

But, what if he wasn’t human? And what if he wasn’t just 18?

As you search for your own answers, Akaashi doesn’t make it easy for you to channel your common sense. After all, a rare blood type only meant danger—especially for a handsome predator with feral eyes.

Warnings: unrequited love, one-sided crush, slight angst, pining, mentions of blood, blood-drinking, vampire akaashi, rare blooded reader, haikyuu manga spoilers???, fluff

The next morning, you saw Akaashi in class; sitting and reading a book. It looked like he had almost finished the book, just a few pages left. He turned to you upon your entrance and gave you an apologetic look, and a soft smile, a question mark plastered on his face. You didn't know how he communicated it to you, but he begged you to not tell a soul just from his eyes, and you really wanted to listen to him. There was still no one in class yet, and for a second, you were just glad.

    "It's called golden blood," You said, almost a whisper, causing his eyes to widen, "It's the—"

    "Rarest blood group in the world." He finished, eyes locked to your form.

You pressed your lips together before nodding, "Akaashi-kun... Can we please talk after school?"

    "Alright—"

    "And even if I cut off my arm and bleed all over the floor, don't run away." You almost ordered him, intending for it to be a joke.

Akaashi smiled almost playfully, but simultaneously there was something dangerous about the very smile that ghosted his lips, "Trust me, if that happens, I won't be able to run away."

You sat at your desk and almost felt the need to count down the hours to being able to speak to Akaashi after school. No one still entered the class, and you wanted to continue talking to him. You couldn't understand why you said what you said, but after saying it, you were surprised to see how you didn't regret it.

    "That day..." Akaashi turned to you with curious eyes, "I wanted to tell you that I liked you."

Akaashi's eyes widened uncharacteristically before a softness swarmed within his pupils. He blinked a couple of times before nodding once and turning away, looking almost hurt at your apparent confession. It wasn't even a confession if you were just stating it to him the way you were; you were informing him of what you intended on doing, but you were not confessing.

After school, you held your notebook firmly in your hands as you walked out of class. You knew that the rooftop on the third building was always empty, giving you and Akaashi enough privacy. Akaashi followed after you, but his eyes wandered to the book you were holding, wondering what it was about. Were you going to take notes? He wasn't too sure what your idea was. Despite walking beside you, Akaashi ensured that there lay a significant bit of distance and that he didn't touch you at all—which would definitely make things difficult for him. He found your scent all the more intoxicating now that he knew about your blood type, but since there was no blood on you, your skin and the perfume and your body's own scent did well to mask the smell of your blood. Even then, Akaashi turned to look at you with uncharacteristic softness in his eyes, you were definitely something else.

On reaching the third building's rooftop, you took out the notebook and cleared your throat. You noticed that he was standing almost five feet away from you, but you didn't question him on his choice.

    "How old are you?"

Akaashi chuckled, "I think you have a significant misunderstanding about vampires."

    "Were you born like a person?"

    "No, not exactly," Akaashi said, smiling at you, "And while your first question is valid, I'm certain that the understanding you have of vampires is incorrect."

    "How old are you, Akaashi-kun?" You pressed, now frowning.

    "I'm over 500 years old," He said, "But, I'm only 18."

    "How does that work?" You asked, genuinely curious.

    "My body is frozen in time. I was turned when I was 18, set to be 18 forever. Time does not pass through me like the rest of you, it passes beside me. So age really doesn't apply to me."

    "Why haven't you killed any humans?"

    "You're assuming I haven't," When you gasped, he chuckled, "No, I haven't killed anyone, but you assumed and it was flattering. I was human when I was turned, so I found it a bit... odd. However, I have tasted human blood. I...receive blood donations regularly."

    "So you don't attack anyone?"

Akaashi shook his head, "Not... Not in a while. You surprised me, that's all. And I truly am very sorry for the way I treated you."

    "You... You think what you did was attack me? B-But, in movies they show that you have fangs and—"

   "Once again, (s/n)-san," Akaashi's smile could literally end you, "You have a significant misunderstanding of vampires."

You blushed at the way he called your name before clearing your throat again and continuing with the questions. Akaashi answered them all patiently, almost expected a few of them, but he didn't move from the spot where he stood. It was almost as if he was afraid to move like he was afraid to get close to you, and while you thought that was quite noble of him, you wanted to know his hesitance.

    "Why are you standing so far from me?"

Now this was the question Akaashi was hoping you'd not ask. He offered you a rather disgruntled look, before gulping. He turned away from you, and let out a breath, almost as if he was put in the spot.

    "The rarer a person's blood group, the harder it is for me to quench my thirst. I'm not... My appetite isn't heavy. I feed once every three months, and while I can digest human food, I do not need it to survive. However," He turned to look at you, and the birth of that feral aspect was evident in his eye, "Your scent is ridiculously strong, (s/n)-san. It almost makes it quite hard for me to... just stay here and do nothing."

    "What'll happen if... if you had a bit of my blood?"

Akaashi chuckled, sounding almost nervous. "Don't even suggest something so preposterous, (s/n)-san, it would do me no good to picture it."

    "But, what would happen?"

    "I honestly don't know," Akaashi said, looking straight at you, "I've never met someone like you."

    "That sounds almost romantic, Akaashi-kun." You said, helplessly.

    "(s/n)-san, about the—"

    "That does it, then," You slammed the book and smiled at him, almost awkwardly. "Akaashi-kun, I like you."

    "(s/n)-san—"

    "And I know you're going to turn me down, so don't even bother. I'll keep your secret safe, no strings attached. I just wanted to confirm to myself that I could like you even if you were a vampire and..." You tilted your head and gave him the nicest smile you could conjure, "...I do."

Akaashi couldn't believe what was happening. Surely, there had been girls and boys who had confessed to him before, several over the years, but you were the first one who had gotten to know him for what he was; and your feelings still remained? One could wonder why Akaashi never took a lover for all these years, living in isolation, afraid and away from human beings yet careful and precise when it came to his appetite. Akaashi loved people and did not want to hurt them, but the secret desire still remained.

Akaashi one day wished to fall in love.

It was the sort of wish a child has about owning an elephant for a pet. It is a wish that felt good while you have it, yet, there was no semblance of a possibility for it to actually happen. Akaashi could dream of love and wonder what it would feel like but he would never know. He would never understand it since he remained unaffected by time but people would move on, people would live and die.

But, there you were, standing and smiling at him, validating his existence as a vampire while the universe had never done; it was a charming sight to see. In over 500 years of living as a vampire, Akaashi had never been moved to tears. But, he came quite close when he saw you smile.

    "Also, if... if I do injure myself in any way around you... Would you lose control?"

Akaashi deadpanned at you, "Please do not speak to me about such hypotheticals, (s/n)-san, it wounds me."

You threw your hands in front of you so as to defend your claim, "N-No, I didn't mean it like a threat or anything! Akaashi-kun," You pouted angrily, "Don't put me in the spot like that! I'm still wrapping my head around you being a vampire! A part of me still thinks you're going to point at a camera and say psyche!"

Akaashi laughed once before shaking his head, "No, I won't do that. I understand this must be a lot to process. I've never told another human being that I'm a vampire."

    "Not even Bokuto-senpai?"

Akaashi shook his head.

    "What about the person who gives you blood donations? Are they..."

    "Ah," Akaashi rubbed the back of his head, gulping and thinking of a certain gold-eyed vampire, "He has sources. Meeting him is quite tasking but he gets the job done."

    "I see," You tapped your chin, "You still didn't answer my question."

    "I won't either. I'm late to practice, (s/n)-san."

    "Also, last question!" Akaashi turned to you and waited, "Did you always play volleyball? I get why you go to school every time, since... It can be boring, I guess?"

    "I ran track in my old high school."

Your heart skipped a beat when Akaashi smiled at you warmly, the feral look completely missing from his gaze. After answering your question, he waited for you to accompany him downstairs, to get off the rooftop. It was strange, how kind he was being to you, and it was strange how he was telling you everything without hesitation. Perhaps, he trusted you? Maybe, it was because since you knew he was a vampire, there was nothing more to hide? Even so, even if you knew that vital piece of information, it felt eerily good that he told you so many details of himself. You followed after him downstairs and felt a ghost of a smile press upon your lips; yes, you liked Akaashi Keiji despite the fact that he was a vampire, and his trust in you gave you a reason to feel joy.

The next day, you greeted Akaashi rather cheerfully and he simply chuckled at your enthusiasm. You leaned over to see that he had a new book in his hand this time, an English book nonetheless. Your eyes widened a bit before giving him a strange look, which he simply returned with an expressionless face.

    "Your English must be really good, huh?"

    "I've had some time to learn it."

You scoffed before noticing the teasing glint in his eye, "Some time, huh?"

Chuckling, you walked over to your desk and sat down right before noticing Akaashi's gaze on you. You smiled back at him, wondering if he had something to say, but he simply shook his head and looked away. You were a bit confused, and in the back of your mind, the feral look Akaashi had was still plastered firmly, but this was a good look too. There were still many things you didn't understand about him being a vampire, and a part of you still suspected if it was even real, but as each hour passed, it sunk in further that perhaps, Akaashi was indeed a vampire.

You had lunch with Sora, and while you knew Akaashi preferred to eat alone (Bokuto-senpai would eat with him before graduating), you wanted to call him over, but with Sora being there, you were certain that there weren't many things you could speak to Akaashi about.

    "You've been staring at Akaashi's back for hours now." Sora whispered, leaning forward. He sat right behind you.

    "What?" You seethed.

    "It's getting a bit desperate," Sora scoffed, "You didn't tell him, did you?"

    "Uh," I did tell him, but I didn't exactly confess in a traditional sense, so... "Not yet."

    "When are you going to tell him?"

    "(s/n)-san, Mamoru-kun, is there something really interesting you'd like to share with the class?" The teacher suddenly called out, freezing you and Sora in place.

You turned away bashfully before the class erupted in chuckles; you noticed Akaashi look at you from the corner of his eye and you felt even more embarrassed than before, but there was yet again a very teasing glint in his eye, which made it all the worse. You groaned before placing your head on the desk wanting to evaporate altogether. After school, you quickly rushed to the library, wanting to grab a particular book. You remembered the title from Akaashi's hands perfectly, and it wasn't as if you wanted to read the book for him or even just to impress him, which was a factor, but it was also because you were curious.

You were curious to see what books he likes, what kind of language he had within his own mind. While understanding his immortality, you knew that Akaashi would perhaps not have had anyone he could share ideas with, thoughts with, or connect with; and maybe, a part of you wanted to be that for him. Even if it wasn't romantic, you wanted him to feel less lonely—at least for this school year.

Because, you weren't sure if you'd ever see him after.

On reaching the English section, you froze to find Akaashi sitting there at the desk, confusing you as to why he wasn't at practice.

    "Akaashi-kun?"

He turned to you with wide eyes, before they regained their regular size. A soft smile presented on his features, before he automatically closed the book, keeping the bookmark in place.

    "What brings you here?"

    "Uh..." Your eyes ran over the books on the shelf before turning to him awkwardly, "I... I wanted a book."

    "Do you need help finding it?"

Your heart rate accelerated. Did it really not matter that he was a vampire? Why was his vague answer to your previous question clouding your mind? You were curious; oh, you were so very curious to see Akaashi in his element, this overwhelming desire to learn more about him made you want to scream. Perhaps, Akaashi sensed a battle raging within your mind and chose to give you a sympathetic look, a look that made you like him more.

    "Listen, (s/n)-san, I really appreciate that you are keeping this a secret. And while I know of your..." He gulped, "...feelings for me, I cannot accept them."

    "But, why?" Akaashi narrowed his eyes with confusion, "No, I'm not asking why you didn't accept my confession, I just... What's so wrong with letting yourself be with someone?"

    "I might sound like a hypocrite, but I dislike lying, (s/n)-san. I have no choice but to do it right now, but... I cannot do it to someone who admires me."

    "You're not lying to me, though."

Akaashi's eyes widened as he stared at you. No, he wasn't. He felt his chest constrict with an uncomfortable feeling, but he ignored it primarily because the look you had in your eye was almost blinding.

    "Ah," You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, "I... I'll just go before I say some more embarrassing things."

No, Akaashi thought before feeling his heart rate increase, Don't go.

For the first time in a long while, he found himself wishing for someone to stay. He watched your retreating figure and he waited before turning to his book once again. Of all the times authors spoke about love in the books he read, Akaashi believed that was as far as he would go, but then, a slight turn of events simply scared him. While he was aware that for love to flourish there would be tops and turns that could perhaps shake his entire being, Akaashi was not ready. He had been awake for 500 years, but he was still not ready.

Getting up, he followed after you, knowing exactly where you were headed. You were headed home, the scent you left behind was intoxicating enough; it was rather easy following you. He found you near the gate with the speed he had gone, and the desire to call out your name stumbled him. He couldn't actually recall feeling this way before, and he wasn't quite sure if it was a good thing.

    "(s/n)-san," Akaashi's face was expressionless, "Please, wait."

You turned around with a wide-eyed expression, face flushed red at his sudden arrival. It was almost...cute.

    "I can't let myself get close to a human being for a wide number of reasons," He began, letting out a breath, "Firstly, while I do not age, I can change my appearance slightly to accommodate lifestyle. Which is why it was easy to grow as a high school student to mid-20s. However, I do not age. If I were with someone, they're bound to notice and they are bound to age, even if they are accepting of my nature."

    "Akaashi—"

    "Secondly, and this is the most important,"

Akaashi turned to look at you again, but froze you in your spot since the look in his eye was feral. The very same look he had given you the first time you realized that Akaashi Keiji was not normal.

    "If one day, I lose control and bite you, I'm not sure if love is a reason enough to stop myself from killing you."

You felt nauseous suddenly at his statement. Your eyes were wide and fixed to his feral ones, ones that could stare into your soul as his fangs devoured you, but it was strange how despite the way these eyes had made you feel before, your hand still reached forward to grasp his. Akaashi froze at the sudden warmth radiating from your skin, transferring to his like osmosis, and he felt his chest tighten.

    "What if it's a risk I'm willing to take?"

Akaashi felt anger bubble in his chest. He swatted your hand away before glaring at you, ready to combust.

    "It's not a risk I'm willing to take!"

You gulped before nodding, looking away from his eyes. Akaashi watched you carefully, unaware of why or how you could be so calm at a moment like this. Perhaps, your mind hadn't completely registered the danger that he could be; your eyes had seen his external features and had found it easy to accept him because he was easy on the eye. Maybe, you didn't truly believe him about being a vampire. Maybe, you were living in denial.

     "I'm glad I like you, Akaashi-kun," You said a moment later, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers, which caused him to gasp at your sudden statement, "Well, anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

He watched your retreating figure almost in awe. His eyes softened at your words, at the memory of them, and at the thought of you; but he was aware that your unacceptability of the actual fact was what was causing you to have these feelings. If you saw him feed, or if you saw blood dripping from his lips or even his fangs out in the open, he was certain you would change your mind.

*

Akaashi found it humiliatingly difficult to not notice what you were doing in class. He didn't have to look at you to know what you were doing; since his hearing was elevated, he merely had to focus on your voice and he would know. Strangely, Akaashi found himself focusing on you a lot more than he ever did before, and it was when he consciously made an effort not to did he realize he had a problem.

He could hear your breathing slow down as time passed; it was a Japanese history class, and even he found the class a tad bit boring. A smile ghosted on his lips as he understood that you were trying to stay awake, but were failing rather badly. He noticed the teacher walking over to your desk, and he knew instantly that you were going to be reprimanded.

    "(s/n)-san, you must be very tired."

    "Ah, I'm so sorry!"

Akaashi fought a chuckle before pressing his hand to his lips, before listening to the sound of your accelerating heartbeat.

It was during the next period, English, when the teacher asked you to read out a passage did he think you were adorable for the first time. You were struggling to read the excerpt aloud, your face red and your ears red too, and your heart rate was high—embarrassed and anxious at the same time. The teacher sighed before Akaashi allowed himself to turn to catch your expression, before feeling his chest tighten at the sight. You were looking at the book with a pout, clearly unhappy with yourself.

    "You will need some tutoring for English, (s/n)-san," The teacher scolded, "Mid-terms are around the corner."

Akaashi wondered if it would be weird if he offered to help you. But, at the same time, he wanted you to ask him; so that he could say yes after acting like he could give it thought. While the entire ordeal within his mind seemed preposterous, it was perhaps the first time he was behaving like a regular high schoolboy.

During the lunch break, Akaashi noticed you approach him. However, just before you could reach him, your friend Mamoru-kun pulled you away for something else. Akaashi blinked before a bit before turning away, feeling a strange uncomfortable feeling nestle in his chest. He took a sharp breath before walking away from there, unable to take his mind off the incident. Right after school, before Akaashi could leave class, his ears fell on your voice once more, to hear soft laughter exit your lips.

    "...Sora! That's silly..."

Akaashi felt that unfamiliar tightening in his chest once again but swallowed it as he walked to practice. He didn't realize he was clenching his jaw until he had reached the gym, but what shocked him was a soft presence tugging at his shirt sleeve. Akaashi froze before turning around with feral eyes, locking on to your form, which froze in mid-air. You looked almost terrified at his sudden response before Akaashi backed away ashamed.

    "I'm sorry, I must have startled you—"

    "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't..." What was that? "I shouldn't lose control like that."

    "Can you help me with English? Sora was so certain you'd say no," You said, rubbing the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze, "I don't want the teacher to hate on me."

Akaashi had believed this would have made him happy, but it filled his chest with nervousness instead. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was too afraid to see you look disappointed. Instead, he smiled before letting his eyes soften and thinking about the time your fingers had held his.

    "I'd be happy to."

He noticed the sudden elation in your eye, glistening like gold. Akaashi almost laughed at how naked your emotions were, and how easy-going you were with what you were feeling; it was a blessed feeling to have, to watch you be yourself.

The next morning, Akaashi spotted you enter the classroom, giving him a wide smile, which he had been waiting to return all morning. Almost stopping in your tracks, you walk over to his desk before narrowing your eyes at him.

    "Is something wrong?"

    "Do you sleep?"

Akaashi chuckled before once again giving you a teasing look, "You think I don't?"

    "Do you have a coffin bed or something?"

    "No, (s/n)-san," He said, chuckling lowly, sending fire straight to your heart, "I can sleep if I want to."

    "You should really stop smiling like that, Akaashi-kun, it's making it quite hard for me to... just..."

Akaashi leaned on his hand, balanced on his elbow, "Quite hard for you to?"

    "You're a tease." You gasp, before walking away, listening to his chuckle.

He caught his actions instantly before realizing he had been...flirting with you? Akaashi paused before wanting to turn and look at you, but when his ears circled around your form, he could hear how heavy your heartbeat was; and then he could hear his own that rivaled the way yours seemed to be moving.

You meet up with Akaashi during lunch, after having eaten yours in just minutes. Sitting in the library alone with him was sure to make you nervous, but you felt strangely calm. You listened to him talk with dreamy eyes, aware that he caught you staring at him a couple of times but chose to ignore you. The library was strangely empty that Tuesday afternoon, but that didn't matter. The bookshelves hid you from the rest of the library, which left Akaashi and yourself to just sit there, actually studying English because Akaashi was Akaashi.

You didn't realize you were biting your lip at the way Akaashi's steel-blue eyes moved across the pages, and how his lips were spilling out words with a voice that could make the Gods shiver. However, you realized you bit your lip a bit too hard when you winced and leaned back, immediately pressing your hand to your newly acquired wound. However, your eyes widened when you heard the sound of a chair move swiftly, before a force pushed itself on you—Akaashi's hand was on the arms of your chair, and his other hand was on your face before you could blink. Your eyes were fixed to his feral ones, which were gazing straight into yours. His finger slowly pressed itself to your lip, letting a small drop of blood graze on his finger.

You couldn't look away from him, because while it seemed almost strangely erotic, you caught the pain in his eyes, you caught that he was striving hard not to move, to not even breathe, for even doing that could change the air.

Your heart was rummaging and you didn't know if what you did next was courageous or stupid.

You moved forward and pressed your lips to his, slowly pressing your right hand to his cheek. He was cold, not as cold as ice, but as if he had forgotten his jacket during winter. Akaashi's body did not move a muscle, and he desperately wanted to move away, since you felt him shuddering—however, you continued kissing him, feeling your little wound burn a tad bit at the force you were exerting.

In less than a second, Akaashi sucked on your lip softly, afraid he was going to hurt you, and the precise care that he took in kissing you/sucking the little bit of blood from your lip was enough to let you know that this boy was not a monster. He never really could be.

Just before you could extend the kiss, Akaashi pulled away, his lips stained with a little of your blood, before noticing his eyes widen and his face contort with fear; you wanted to know what he was thinking, what he was going through, but something told you he wasn't going to do any of those things.

    "Akaashi—"

In one quick movement, he walked away from you and exited the library. You gulped before feeling the taste of his lips against yours, and feeling how dry your wound suddenly felt. However, your eyes fell on the hands of the chair and you froze. They were broken into two, each of them, as if Akaashi's strength was exerted not at your lips, but elsewhere, just so that he wouldn't hurt you.

Akaashi didn't come to school the next day, but you knew he was somehow nearby. You felt someone's gaze on you as you walked to school, and you wondered if what you had done was wrong or if it offended Akaashi in any way. You ignored Sora's rants on how Akaashi didn't come to school again because he was teaching you, and that he was shy, but when you actually knew the reason, your heart fell.

Your mind thought back to the kiss and you felt strangely elevated at how it happened. He was soft against you, and no part of him had hurt you. Surely, the kiss did sting because of the wound in your lip, which was smaller than any paper cut you've ever had, but at the same time, with Akaashi sucking on your lip the way he was, it was oddly satisfying. You wanted to see him, you wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to hold him this time and see what he felt—however, the look he gave you in the end, the one where he was both confused and terrified, that look broke your heart. It told you right away that he wasn't used to what was going on, he wasn't used to what had happened.

Right before bed, you stared out your window again, feeling eyes on you for the umpteenth time that day. With your heart bursting the way it was, you knew it was Akaashi who was looking at you. You knew it was him at a distance, but you didn't want him at a distance anymore.

    "Akaashi-kun," you said softly, "Please, I know you're there."

There was obviously no response. Frowning, you once again bit your lip hard before feeling your back pressed against the bed just as soon as your teeth touched your lower lip. You gasped when you felt Akaashi's hand around your throat, his blue eyes were glowing in the moonlight as they bore into yours. Tears struck the sides of your eyes as your hands reached over to touch his face, but Akaashi's hand gripped both of your hands by their wrists and pinned them above your head.

Leaning down, he slowly licked the blood trickling off your lower lip before letting out a breath.

    "You shouldn't do that," He sounded like he was in pain, "You really shouldn't—"

    "Bite me," You said, conviction present in your voice.

Akaashi didn't move an inch.

    "You're finding it difficult because you had a taste of my blood, right? It's killing you because nothing makes it feel better, no matter how much blood you have. The downside of having a rare blood type, I guess."

Your explanation made sense, but at the same time, Akaashi knew that you didn't exactly know what was going on. It was simply the curse of being tempted that Akaashi was finding it all too painful. Blood that he got in little packets was not as fresh as human blood that was stuck behind the skin, and there was you—whose blood was by far the richest he had ever tasted. It wasn't about quenching his thirst, it was hurting you, it was seeing your eyes contort in pain.

He couldn't let that happen.

Leaning back, he released your hands and he froze when he saw you smile.

    "You said once," Your hand grazed over his cheek, "That love might not be a strong reason for you to stop if you do bite me."

He couldn't look away from you.

    "I believe, it's too late for that, no?"

He felt tears sting the back of his eyelids. Ah, he thought before moving forward to touch your cheek. The warmth on your skin was intoxicating, but not as much as your smile was.

    "I've never been this afraid before, (s/n)-san," He said, voice shaking. His hand moved from your cheek to your neck, and the temptation presented itself once more, "I can't... I won't be able to."

    "I trust you."

His lips quivered as he moved in, his nose grazing your neck—he felt goosebumps rise on your skin, and again he felt the need to stop; but you pressed your hand to the back of his neck, holding him close. He had bitten off humans before, but none were this inviting, none were you.

None were humans he had been in love with.

Akaashi's teeth sunk into your skin and he heard you swallow your yelp instantly as he sucked in, drinking the nourishment that you so readily offered; he felt his eyes close in absolute elation, and his grip on you grew stronger by the second. However, his other hand pressed against your cheek, wiping your lone tear away. He felt your hand grip his, which was on your cheek and held on tightly, slowly intertwining your hands together. A second later, Akaashi's heart began to race. He directed his hearing to your heart—noticing how it began to drop by just a fraction of a second.

He pulled away immediately before blinking away the tears that fell from his own eyes. You were looking at him with wide eyes now, noticing the residue of blood within his mouth, and how his eyes were no longer feral.

    "If you're going to kiss me please drink some water."

Akaashi laughed right then before leaning away from you and feeling his lips quiver some more. You got up, wincing at the small wound at your neck, feeling two small punctures having formed there. You weren't sure what you'd tell your parents that those were, but that was for another time.

Leaning forward, you embraced Akaashi before smelling him; your chest was pressed firmly at his side, feeling his arm snake around your waist, bringing you closer.

    "How did I taste?"

    "That's a strangely perverted question, (s/n)-san."

    "I didn't mean it like that! Your mind's in the gutter."

Akaashi chuckled before turning to you, brushing some of the hair behind your ear. For some reason, your mind told you that you would no longer see Akaashi's eyes cloud with a feral expression again.

    "I'm in love with you, (s/n)-san."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile.

    "I love you, Akaashi-kun," You moved forward and pressed your nose against his cheek, "But please, drink some water, I want to kiss you so bad."

*

The next morning, Sora yawned for the fourth time as he entered the classroom. He blinked when he saw you and Akaashi—you were sitting on his desk, talking to him about something he had no idea about. You were wearing a scarf around your neck and one of your hands was in Akaashi's.

Sora's eyes widened.

    "Your hands!"

You turned to look at Sora and felt Akaashi's hand grip yours a tad bit tighter, making you smile some more. That small grip had told him more than it told you; a desire he had long nestled in the darkest recesses of his heart was allowed to bloom. Maybe this was why, whenever Akaashi saw you, his heart picked up pace, and he felt the smallest urge to shed a tear.

[apep40]

Just thinking about my favourite film and conceiving of some head canons for how the characters progressed after the films ending. So hers mine-

-Abby, like Elia in the book, turned Owen almost right away not wanting to see someone she loved age and die.

-As a shout out to vampire folklore Owen is rather uncomfortable when passing over bodies of water, due to being traumatized after  nearly being drowned in the pool. The first few times he even had flashbacks.

-Also, due to his alcoholic yet rather hypocritically  religious mother he would hate christian iconography.

- He deeply enjoys his powers, especially the ability to fly. To the ability he actually becomes more skilled than Abby  in some of them due to wanting to explore and experiment with his abilities while Abbys had fallen into a rout over the centuries. His favourite, after flying, was super-strength after a lifetime of being weak and frail.

- Due to his obsession with space he tried flying out of earths atmosphere and spend the rest of the night pouting when he realized he couldn't.

-The massacre at the pool became a major media story. Especially when it became obvious that kenny and his friends were in the middle of attacking Owen before being ripped apart, leading to a lot of speculation about what exactly happened to owen and where his body was.

- It also came out how horribly Owen was abused by his classmates  and how the school did nothing to protect him. It caused a lot of sympathy to be directed to owen, which did nothing but annoy him since it was much too late to be of any benefit to him

- Owen and Abby left america and  traveled to parts of the world where it was  dark and the nightes were long like Canada or Russia or Scandanvia. At Owens insistence because he hated america after everything that had been done to him there. Also because Mr.Zoric was the only adult who treated him with respect and kindness and he was european.

- His first few kills were people who reminded him of Kenny and his friends.

- Owens mom and dad almost went insane when they heard what happened, with no body as closure torturing them even more. They both felt especially guilty when  they found out how he was being horribly bullied. They both went on television to claim how their baby wasnt dead and they pleaded with both Owens assumed captors to let him go and Owen himself to forgive them for being so neglectful and cruel to him. Again it was much too late from owens perspective.

-Despite having all of abbys powers Owen would still be rather meek and shy, at times. To the point hed be absurdly intimated by people he could rip apart like paper.

-He would also keep forgetting he could no longer consume anything but blood. It would be a sort of running gag that he thought he could cheat and eat just one now or later sweet before realizing that, no, he couldnt and would violently vomit.

-On a related note he would lose alot of social norms like Abby had surprisingly quickly, since hes living a nomadic life with only Abby for company and he was always a bit odd and awkward. Plus he wants to emulate her. Like going barefoot and not having much of a nudity taboo since he doesnt need clothes for protection from the elements. To the point of going naked like Dr.Manhattan in the snow when they live in rural areas.

- Since he lived in contemporary culture as a human unlike Abby he would often be the one to have to arrange transport or living arrangements like hotels. He would also be smart enough to pretend to still have human needs when staying around people. He would order room service so people wouldn’t be too curious why he and Abby were never seen eating, he would continue to wear thick winter clothes so not to alarm people when walking through a cold urban area

- Owen would get even paler due to his vampirism, which coupled with how pale and underweight he looked already as a human got him unwanted and embarrassing attention from  concerned adults. Especially mothers who would fuss over him and give him maternal attention and concern he once would have killed for but simply irritated him now.

-Although he eventually learned to embrace his cuteness and used it to manipulate adults to make them think he was harmless, like abby did with the man in the tunnel. He would even make puppy dog eyes at people, which got him some light teasing from Abby.

@dyslexic-fool​ ive just thought of a few more

- Because of all the times he was attacked in enclosed spaces and held down by Kenny and his friends as they beat him he really hates tight spaces and he avoids lying in their trunk whenever possible. When he does Abby has to hold him so he doesnt get too upset.

-Maybe because ive read the much darker book but i think Owens fine features and frail body would work against him a few times. Like in some cases when hes trying to lure victims to eat it turns out hes attracted the attention of a pervert who thinks hes pretty and weak and try to cop a feel, which Owen would instantly put a stop to by efficiently snapping their necks. Most of the times. A few times Owen would have the misfortune of his ass being grabbed or being groped which would remove all inhibitions from Owen completely and he would rip them literally to bloody shreds, necessitating a very quick escape from both he and Abby.

-Abby herself would be awkward at times, since Owens the first person who was her equal since she was human and the first person she was romantically attracted to ever.

-coupled with how unaware she is of modern social norms and she would do rather odd things around him. Like staring at him when he undresses ( as a reflection to his voyeurism he displayed in the film, which he would have abandoned at that point because he was no longer alone)

-The one power Owen wouldnt be interested in learning would be telepathy, because Owen wouldnt want Abby learn about his private thoughts ( like his fantasies about killing Kenny) or embarrassing memories like the times Kenny hurt him so much he wet himself and hes a misanthropic who thinks all adults are stupid and evil and he wouldnt want to learn their thoughts.

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [6]

Masterlistt

A/N: really quickly I just wanted to thank you all for the love and support on this fic. I’m so overwhelmed with all of the attention it got so far and I can’t tell you all how happy your likes and comments and reblogs have made me. I’ve just had the worst three months of my life and I haven’t been this happy in such a long time, so I just wanted to say thank you all so so so much for giving this dumb fic your time and affection it really means the world and more to me ❤️ I also just wanted to say that I’m not being ignorant or rude with not replying to people in the comments, this is a side blog of mine and thus tumblr won’t let me comment on this account - only as my main. Please know all of your comments have left huge smiles on my face time and time again and everyone who has requested to be on the taglist is on there. There’s a few accounts that won’t let me tag, so I am sorry to those individuals, I have tried my hardest to rectify the issue and I’ll continue to do so until it works.

Enough of my blabbering, let’s continue with your’s and Dracula’s journey❤️

~^*^~

You looked past Dracula’s face for a second, eyes locking with Zoe’s as she frowned. Her back was pressed against the wall, standing close to a man armed with a gun and the usual (stake and cross). Again, you found yourself in the glass box, sitting at the large desk with the vampire sitting opposite you. Today, he had been granted one wine glass of blood, which was sitting beside him. A gentleman and a wine glass went hand in hand, and you didn’t really mind the fluid that filled the glass.

“Must we proceed with such formalities?” Dracula sighed.

“Yes, Drac.” You rolled your eyes, focusing back on him.

“And why is that?”

“Because this is my job.” You crossed your legs as you sat, trying to get comfortable under the heat of his gaze, “now, today we’re going to talk.”

“As opposed to the sumo wrestling we did last time?”

“Funny.” You sneered, rolling your eyes, “I just want to know a little about you.”

“Ask me anything, darling, I’ll spill all my secrets to you.” He tenderly took the glass between his fingers and took a sip. He gasped, like he had been deprived of air and he was finally getting oxygen back into his system.

“I want to know, specifically, about blood. The last time we spoke here, we talked about the Demeter, remember?”

“How could I forget? It was in those moments you captivated me, [First].”

“Enough flirting, I’m trying to earn a living here.” You scolded.

“My bad, go on.” He licked his lips, deciding he wanted to create a little eye contact with you. His mind wandered back a week, to the second night he was ever allowed entrance to your humble abode. It was the most interesting affair.

~^*^~

You sat curled up on the sofa, as you did most evenings, watching the usual soaps when your door knocked. Instead of getting up to answer, you allowed it to open itself and a low “only me” rumbled to your ears. When your living room door opened, you peered over to see the familiar face of your vampire acquaintance. He took no time in strolling in and settling down into the plushness of your La Z Boy. Clearly he favoured that seat above all others in your home.

About ten minutes passed as he allowed you to watch the end of your soap, and when the credits began to roll, you stretched out on the sofa. Dracula eyed you, much to your obliviousness, and then spoke up.

“I’m glad to see you got my message. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Yes, I was meaning to ask about that. When did you get a phone?”

“Oh, it was a gift from my lawyer.” He told you nonchalantly.

“Your lawyer?” You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“Yes, I helped start the law firm back before I even met Jonny, you see, so he told me he feels indebted to me. Bought me the phone to help me settle in and adjust to the new world.” He explained.

“Right. Well, should we go for a quick walk?”

“A walk-...” he cut himself off, “seems good...” his attention on you had all but disappeared as he watched the next show begin to start. A food show, showcasing all sorts of delicacies, “gracious, and to think back when I was a mere mortal all we had was over-boiled starches...”

“Yes, culinary has come far, hasn’t it?”

“Is that chocolate?” He ignored your question, “but it’s so expensive!”

“Actually, it’s extremely cheap now. Besides, why are you of all people worried about the fate of chocolate? You don’t even eat it.”

“Humans are always so greedy for the delicacies of life. I suppose such things as pineapples are common as well.”

“We can literally grow them here now.”

“Let’s walk.” He chirped, clearly irked at how society had decided to treat such magnificent things.

“Honeslty, though,” you spoke, “I’d kill for some melted chocolate and strawberries.” You threw the words over your shoulder as you walked to the door.

A soft “oh” came from your lips when you swung open your front door to find a heavy drizzle greeting you. You felt Dracula’s hand slide over your back and then the sound of material as he opened up your umbrella. He stepped out, nicely sheltered with nylon. He held his hand out for you to join him. Not thinking twice, you took his hand and found yourself pleasantly surprised when he linked his arm with yours.

You allowed him to lead you where he wanted, first nearing the river before deciding to walk parallel to it. Walking in silence, you listened to the gurgle of the river and the sweet birdsong up in the thick canopy of trees. It was nice to know that the birds were enjoying their break from the hot weather.

Dracula took you up the steep hill that lead towards the viaduct, and once at the beginning of the ginormous structure, turned left, away from it and further away from Whitby town. The cindertrack this way was not lit at all and you found yourself relying on sheer instinct and the man beside you. Your heart began to race a little, wondering why on Earth he was leading you down this dark path.

Below your feet was an odd mixture. The firmness and sharpness of small rocks and pebbles, and the sinking feeling of the drowned cindertrack that clung to the underside of your shoes. On more than one occasion, you found yourself slipping and had to cling on to the vampire for dear life.

How ironic.

A good chunk way down the track, where a holiday park was a little in front of you and positioned to the left of the track, Dracula stopped and turned to face you, keeping the umbrella perched high above you to prevent you from getting wet. Now your heart really began to run.

“No need to panic, I just want to talk.” He explained gently.

“What is it? Why did it have to be here of all places?” You grumbled.

“I’ve brought you here because it occurred to me that your neighbours liked to listen in. To save you any trouble, I thought we’d talk here where no one would hear. Well, I’ve brought you close to where there’s other humans, so that if you needed to scream, they’d hear and come running.” He spoke in a tone of seriousness, but once finished, broke out into a toothy and boyish grin

“You’re not funny. It’s dark and wet. What did you want to talk about?” You folded your arms.

“Your proposal last night. Your life, for someone else’s? Will you gift me with the information of this so called meal you wish to bestow on me as a token of your gratitude?”

You froze. In your delirium, you had promised Dracula another’s life for your own. Although you genuinely hated that person from the bottom of your heart, could you ever send such a cruel doom to them? How could you live the rest of your life knowing that you, and solely you, had caused their death? All over some teenage heartbreak? Their behaviour had lead to your drastic move, your enrolment in such a dangerous occupation, your distrust of anyone and everyone. Did that justify you sending a vampire to feast on them?

Then again, if you didn’t deliver, what would Dracula do to you? You would have lied to him and he had already spared you once before with a warning. Do not cross him again. Did you dare to defy him? Did you dare to retract your proposal? Even if you sent him to that person, there was never a guarantee that he’d let you be. He could always strike out. Were you willing to risk that?

“Yes... there’s somebody down south, in London to be exact. I... I think she’d suit your tastes very well...”

“I hope you’re not just sending me as a revenge plot [First]. I would hate to have completely misread you.” He continued to grin.

“Not... entirely...”

“Not entirely? You bad girl. And I thought you were afraid of me? Now you’re using me as a weapon? How cold of you, [First]... How very...” he grinned at you, a wretched grin that seemed to highlight the exact type of evil he was. It may have stayed on his face for a second, if that, but it was enough, “delightful.”

“Don’t get too excited, toothy. I don’t know exactly where she is.”

“Give me her name, darling. I will be able to find her. Hopefully she can live up to your promise.”

“You’ll really go?” You asked, genuinely surprised at his willingness.

“You trusted me with entrance to your home, as well as being utterly alone with you. I’d like to return the favour and believe your words, as well.”

“I see... well before I tell you, you must promise to come to the Foundation a week today. I promised Dr. Van Helsing I’d continue my study on you.”

“You have my word.” He bowed his head a little in sincerity.

“In that case, the person in London you’re looking for is Lucy Westenra.”

~^*^~

Dracula eyed you as you glared at him. Had he done something wrong? It took all but six seconds for him to realise just how badly he had zoned out. He wondered how long you had been speaking, how much of your words he had missed thinking about that evening.

“You didn’t hear a word of what I said, did you?” You inquired, tone laced with annoyance.

“Now, that’s not true, I heard that sentence.” He smirked with a familiar boyish charm.

“I asked you about blood. You told me that when you drink a person’s blood, you build your skills. Care to elaborate for me?”

“Of course. You see, I believe you call it DNA nowadays, but when it is consumed, due to my... superhuman abilities, I am able to absorb in sorts, the very DNA. I can acquire desirable attributes all by drinking blood.”

“And that’s why you chose your victims carefully aboard the Demeter?”

“Indeed. My goodness, you are a smart little lady once you get that brain working, aren’t you?” He leaned forwards, gaze boring into your eyes. He liked the way they sparkled with life, glistened with mortality. He wondered what you saw in his eyes.

“You’re the one telling me, I’m just piecing together things that I already know with the new information you’re giving me.” You shrugged.

You continued to talk to Dracula, writing down important notes on him as he spoke to you. His voice carried easily and as you were already too aware, was very pleasing to the ear. For a long time, you bantered back and forth as he gave you answers to the questions that you needed. He seemed very at ease with you. Every now and then, one of you would glance over at Zoe, who kept a strange look of discontent on her face.

You looked over at Zoe once more, who tapped her wrist to signal that your time was up. You alerted Dracula of this, and also informed him that he would need to stay in the Foundation until sundown.

“I do have one last question for you, though,” you whispered. Zoe did not need to hear this, “where have you been for the past week? Did you find... it.”

“Indeed I did.” He smirked.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but you ignored it and stalked out of the cell, leaving him alone. Zoe informed you as you left that she wished to speak with Dracula, and you were free to go. When you left that room, you collided into another familiar person.

Jack.

“Sorry, [First], I saw you coming but I guess I couldn’t stop in time.” He flushed a little.

“That’s alright.”

“Were you just in there with Count Dracula?” He inquired lowly. It was as if he was worried about the vampire hearing his words.

“I was getting information. Why?”

“Well... Dr. Van Helsing and myself... we’re a little worried about how close you’re getting to him...”

“Jack, it’s my job.” You glared lightly at him.

“I know that, but-“

“But nothing. If he wanted to kill me, rest assured I’d already be undead by now.”

“[First]-“ he began with an annoyed sigh, however you pushed past him and stalked away.

You decided not to go home, and instead found yourself sitting on a lonesome bench overlooking the harbour. Your eyes continued to wander towards the sight of the Abbey stood proudly on top of the cliffs. It was a very attractive town, Whitby. You could see why Dracula would want to become acquainted with it. It was picturesque and oozed with an old-fashioned aura only a small seaside town such as this could ever wish to. It was perfect in every way.

Sitting looking at the sight, you couldn’t help but think about Dracula’s visit to London. You wondered if he would return after today. He seemed to have forgotten you a little. He would occasionally send you a text (something that still made you laugh with the ridiculousness of it) but for the most part, he seemed very much preoccupied with London.

Had he already taken her life?

Had he really found her or was he bluffing to save face?

That night at around 11pm, when Dracula had still not come to visit you, you let your curiosity get the better of you. You only wished to know if she was still living. Maybe he hadn’t found her after all, and had travelled south again to continue searching for her. After all, London was a very big city.

Facebook was the obvious choice as you typed in her name. It came up straight away with the amount of mutual friends you shared. Her face was still as beautiful and youthful. Still as deceiving as her outward personality. She had begun to see an American boy, you noted, maybe a month or two ago, however, his own account seemed to be missing from her page. You knew why. Even if some men did know she was taken, they’d still happily bed her. You supposed she just liked the secrecy of this permanent man in her life. You scrolled down a little, looking through shared games and memories when one post struck you as odd.

‘Lucy Westenra is feeling... naughty 😈

[not usually into older guys, but.... ;)]’

So he had found her... and the fact that he had kept her alive made something odd stir in your stomach.

Two months passed without hearing a word from Dracula. You had begun work with Zoe and Jack - a secret project looking into the undead with the information Dracula had given you, along with ancient accounts found from the nunery Sister Agatha had been a part of. Although no undeads had been reported for a few decades, it was still worth a look into given the complexity of Dracula and the possibility of more dangerous creatures like him lurking out there.

Zoe was more than a little concerned at his disappearance. You chose to neglect to tell her that you had sent him to London to murder an old friend. She didn’t need to know that. And neither did Jack, considering his crush on Lucy had seemingly tripled in the time you had not spoken. You had to question his choices, in all honesty, considering how kind-hearted and tender Jack was and how... well, promiscuous and without inhibition Lucy was. They could not be more mismatched and you wondered if Jack knew this at all.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of his feelings towards her. It was more that you were disappointed. You would never confess that to him, though.

Whilst Dracula was gone, you were able to live your life somewhat normally again. You occasionally found yourself wondering over where he could be but other than that, your life returned to normal. You could sleep in peace, knowing that he was hours away from harming you. It was a nice break from the whirlwind friendship you had formed with him. Was it a friendship? Did you have any right to call him a friend? The thought made you feel ridiculous. What kind of person befriends a vampire?

You honeslty had no clue, but the way things had turned out, it seemed you hadn’t befriended him at all. He had disappeared. It made you a little disappointed - the realisation that he maybe wouldn’t come back. But it was most likely more unhealthy to loiter around a vampire than it was to not.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 7 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #375

“why do i see her, the never-ending night  /  why do i see her, wearing nothing but the dark?”

Who’s one person who changed how you viewed something? I hold Rhett & Link responsible for "curing" my homophobia. I went through a phase where I shipped them like CRAZY, and they're still my "OTP," and it really made me question why I had such a disgusting belief. The switch was officially flipped when listening to their podcast with Hannah Hart, who discussed growing up as a lesbian surrounded by homophobia. Let me tell you, it felt fucking good to let that repulsive belief go. It was my former religion that tied me to it, but it could no longer be an excuse to me, even when I stayed Christian a while longer. And here I am now as a bisexual woman who wants to deck younger me dead in the face. :') Were you ever scared of driving? What scared you about it? I am TERRIFIED of driving. I'm most scared of getting in a wreck and killing somebody, something I would never. Ever. Ever. Forgive myself for. I'm also petrified of, once again, getting in a wreck and I wind up paralyzed from the neck down. The most memorable time that you skipped school, what did you do? Nothing very exciting. What was the last topic you did thorough research on? Why? Toxic masculinity for an essay in college. What is a dish you absolutely love, but hate to prepare yourself? I don't cook, so. Of the many different American accents, which one is your favorite? New York. Is there anything hanging from the doorknob in your room? No. Why did you move to where you’re living now? Because we had to get out of our former house because the growing mold problem was a health hazard (especially for Mom, given her then-recent cancer diagnosis), and our family friend newly owned this house as a part of the former resident's will. Said resident knew Mom as well and the house problems, so she wanted Tobey to help us into this house anyway. What’s your opinion on wearing pajamas in public? Do you yourself do that? I literally couldn't care less. I do it a lot. Do you usually fill up at the same gas station? No; Mom just pays attention to the price. Are you currently looking for a new job? No. I don't plan to until I'm done with TMS therapy. Are any of your relatives musicians? No. Have you ever had an asthma attack? Thank goodness no. My mom has asthma and I have seen her have an attack, so I know they're terrifying. Have you ever been in a hospital and not felt safe? There was one occasion during a psych hospital stay that my roommate had WILD anger issues. She would explode out of seemingly NOWHERE, to the point once or twice she had to be put in solitary because she would literally scream and damage shit, like throwing tables and such. She scared the piss out of me to the point I finally plucked up the courage to tell the nurses that I needed a different room. What’s the highest fever you’ve ever had? I don't remember. Have you ever been hospitalized for a day or more? At psych hospitals. I think my shortest visit was just shy of a week. Have you ever had surgery? Two. Are you lonely? I'm admittedly very lonely. Are you mad at someone right now? No. Do you eat late at night? I sometimes need a small midnight or so snack because I cannoooooooot sleep when my stomach is growling. If I'm in basically any sort of discomfort, I have extreme trouble sleeping. Who do you miss? A lot of people. I miss Jason, Megan, Mini, Hannia, Emily, Journee... I don't feel like dwelling on those I've lost. Who do you admire most? Mark. If you could transform into any animal what would it be and why? Maybe a cat. Quick, agile, stealthy, majestic, well-equipped to defend itself... sounds pretty good. Are you more artistic or mathematical? Definitely more artistic. Which supermarket do you usually shop at? Wal-Mart. When was the last time you went to McDonald’s? I'm not sure, but it's been a while. Maybe around a month. What was the last chocolate bar you ate? I believe I had a 3 Musketeers because I was really craving one. Who was the last person you talked to on Skype/video chat? The woman who was doing my evaluation to determine if I was a good fit for TMS therapy. Can you remember the first time you ever talked to the person you love/like? Does he/she remember? I think I might have a vague idea, but I don't really remember. Would you be able to have a relationship with someone you didn’t find attractive, if they had a nice personality and treated you well? Yep. It sounds cheesy, but I do mean it when I say a beautiful inside blossoms into the body itself for me personally. Does the last person you kissed have brown eyes? Yes. Have you ever really liked someone to begin with, then changed your mind about them? I guess you could say Girt, because I had a pretty big crush on him when I started HS. We were just friends for way too long that when we finally dated years upon years later, it felt much too weird. He really was my "brother from another mother" by that point. Has anyone ever told you that they wanted to spend the rest of their life with you? Aaaaand he left. :^) If you decided to dye your hair, would you choose to go lighter or darker? Lighter. I want to dye my hair pastel colors so very badly. Do you know what the Enneagram is and if so, what’s your type? INFP. Do you listen to Mayday Parade? I only know "Terrible Things," which I positively adore. Do you have trouble falling asleep at night? I have an extremely hard time sleeping at night. It's honestly one reason I sometimes sleep so much during the day. Are you on a laptop, desktop or phone/iPod? A laptop. Have you ever been so angry that you screamed out of nowhere? I've screamed into a pillow. What’s the longest movie you’ve ever watched? I dunno, maybe over three hours? What was the last thing you watched on Netflix or Hulu? I have no clue. What do you think about your current relationship status? I mean I miss being in love and having someone who sees a future with me, but I know in the deepest part of me that it's wiser that I stay single until I figure some things out. Of most concern, I don't have a job or even a confident sign I'll have one soon, I'm not in school headed for a career, I don't drive, I don't cook... I'm a liability, financially and in other ways. It wouldn't be fair to my partner or even myself to go into a relationship with a heavy risk of heartbreak because I'm taking too long to get to where I want to be. I'm 25 now - if/when I get into a relationship, I want forever, and I'm not wasting time on anyone for almost inevitable failure as romantic partners. I want to AT LEAST have a steady job before I enter another relationship. How many people have you kissed? Three or four. Do you go out on dates? I have no one to go on a date with. Do you kiss on the first date? I never have and probably wouldn't, but I guess if things went very well and I was really into the person, maybe I would. What’s the farthest you’ve gone with someone? Doing to do. Would you rather receive a stuffed animal, flowers, or chocolate? I'd really appreciate any. I think flowers are sorta overrated though honestly, like someone ripped some healthy flowers from their roots and doomed them to a quickly-approaching death, but society still has a part of me thinking "oh that's sweet." I think more than anything, I'd be crazy over a meerkat plushy. Or would expensive jewelry just be fine? You really don't have to do that for me; I don't really wear much jewelry at all anyway. Odds are you'd be wasting your money. What’s the cheesiest romantic gift you’ve ever received? I don't know. Do you like romantic poetry? Yessssssssss. Have you ever been rickrolled? I'm unsure. Do you like bologna? Yeah. It was my favorite lunch meat as a kid. Have you ever had a nose bleed? Yes. Have you ever puked on a fair ride before? No, because I don't go on rides that generally induce that sort of risk. What animals have you ridden? Just ponies. What is your parents' idea of grounding you? Taking away my access to the computer. Dragons or unicorns? Dragons! Do you wish vampires existed? Uh, no. At the moment what is your favorite song? I'm going through another phase of really digging "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park. Have you ever been pantsed? No. What is your favorite magazine? I don’t read any. Did you ever like Barbies? Do you currently like Barbies? I never really was, I just played with them when my little sister wanted to. I was more into playing with my dinosaurs and Pokemon and stuff. I'm not into them now, either. What’s your favorite hit song right now? I don't know what songs are "hits" right now. What’s your favorite element? (fire, water, air) Fire, aesthetically. Have you ever been to a wild party? Nah. Do you put on a robe when it’s cold? I don't own a robe. Is the last person you kissed gay? She's demisexual. What breed was the last dog you saw? She's some sort of hound mix. We think there might be dalmatian in her, too. What type of day are you having? It's been all right. I'm just REALLY not feeling this damn heat. Driving an hour and back to the TMS office in a car that has no A/C is agony. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It's been pierced multiple times, and I want to do it again, but this time with a nostril hoop versus a stud so the goddamn thing stays in. Do you prefer warm or cold weather? I have an incredibly strong preference for cold weather. Fuck the heat. Like just 70*F is "too hot" to me. Who was the last person you talked to in person? My mom. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? No. Do you like rain? Yes, but I don't like being caught out in it. I just like looking at and listening to it. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them? Yep. Do you like to cuddle? If I really like you and it's not too hot, yeah. Are you shy? I'm excruciatingly shy. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you? Hunny, I'd do that for free. Which do you like better- zebra print or leopard print? I'm not really a fan of either particular pattern on anything but the animal. Do you have any stickers on your car? I don't have my own car, but Mom has one that allows her to park in her old school's parking lot. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars? No. My sister Misty, tho

[mhdiaries]

Freaky Fusion Hybrids Avea Trotter Diary

6/14

I went for a gallop along the beach this morning for a couple of reasons. One, because I thought the sand might feel nice on my hooves, and two, a nice gallop always clears my head. There was a lovely tailwind, too, that caught my wings and helped carry me along. It was almost as if I were flying down the beach, almost. I passed a ghoul and a manster who looked like they were my age. The ghoul was trying to teach the manster how to surf, but he didn’t look scary comfortable.

I didn’t stop to watch, though, because I was just getting my second wind and was really starting to enjoy myself. I also saw Sirena bob up out of the water and then sink again beneath the waves. She didn’t see me, so I didn’t stop for her either, as there was no guarantee that Sirena was going to come back to the surface anyway. I love Sirena to undeath, but I can never make wings or tails out of what she’s about to do next. She tends to drift down her own path, and if it happens to cross the one you’re on, it’s always a treat. In fact, as flighty as she can be, Sirena is the reason Neighthan, Bonita and me all met and became friends. All of us were in middle school together, but we really didn’t know each other very well. I was standing by my locker one day when this vampire kid asked if I wanted to come to his little brother’s birthday party and give flying pony rides. I wanted to kick the unliving dayfrights out of him, when Neighthan and Bonita walked past. Neighthan and Bonita stopped to try and play peacemaker, but the kid’s friends ganged up on us, and pretty soon they were chasing us all down the hall. We turned a corner, and there was Sirena. “Follow me if you want to unlive!”, she said as she touched a brick in the wall that opened a secret passage. We all ran in, and she closed the door behind us. Bonita asked, “How’d you find this place?” Sirena just shrugged, “Sometimes not paying attention to where you’re going gets you to places you really want to be.” None of us understood what she was saying at the time, but we’ve all been beast friends ever since, and no matter how many schools we’ve bounced around to, we know we can always count on each other.

6/20

Every monster knows about Monster High, but not every monster wants to go there. I suppose there are different reasons for that. I’ve heard monsters say that the school isn’t old enough to have traditions, that it’s just a fad that will “run its course” and be replaced by some new creepy cool high school idea. I’ve also heard that the headmistress there is such a stickler for details and excellence that some members of the ghoul board think it’s making it too hard to attract new students. I don’t really know what to think, although it has some pretty passionate monsters that say it’s the beast school ever. I know mom and dad are hoping that they accept my application so I can start there in the fall. I doubt that I’ll get in, but I’m filling out the application anyway. Part of the application is a section where we’re supposed to give a brief history of our monster scaritage. I started to just write: Father – Centaur, Mother – Harpy, and leave it at that, but I’m proud of my parents, so I didn’t. Dad’s a scientist who specializes in researching monster remedies and medicine. Mom is, or I should say was, an aerial surveyor. Now she works with dad as his research assistant. He calls her “his ghoul frightday” and lays all his success at her feet. They met when they were working at a jungle research station with Dr. Boolittle. I don’t think mom and dad liked each other very much at first. Apparently, dad had a habit of getting lost in the jungle, and mom was always being sent out to find him. Dad says he never got lost – he just wanted to see what was over the next hill, even if that hill was 20 miles away. One day a monster storm was blowing in, and dad hadn’t returned to the research station, so mom flew out, again, to find him. Mom found him about the same time a powerful down draft from the storm sent her crashing into the trees. Dad found her, but mom’s wings and one ankle were so badly sprained that she could neither fly nor walk. Dad felt so bad about mom getting hurt because of him that he put her on his back and carried her out of the jungle. Mom said this act of kindness caused her heart to melt right out of her chest. Dad also said that on the trip back they found out they had a lot more in common than they both realized and that by the time they made it out of the jungle he felt like he’d found his best friend. Now mom says dad helps keep her grounded while dad says mom makes his heart soar. They’re the beast parents ever, and they make me proud of what and who I am.

7/2

I’ve been accused of being as stubborn as some four-legged normie animal that for some reason I can’t remember the name of right now. I’m not sure which side of the family that stubbornness comes from, but mom and dad both have their moments. Sometimes it’s a good trait to have, like when I’m out for a run and my mind says, “STOP!”, but I know my body can keep on going and sometimes not, like when I won’t back down after I’ve been insulted. For instance, one of the most insulting things you can say to a centaur is, “How about a ride?” Centaurs don’t give rides. Most monsters know this, but because I also have wings, they think it doesn’t apply to me. I know I should have thicker skin by now, but there are just some soft spots that certain barbs always seem to find. I guess that’s what makes me distrustful of other monsters. Yeah, yeah, I know; you can’t judge every monster by the words and actions of a few, but I’ve really gotten to the place where I assume any new monster I meet is one of the few until they prove they’re not. Mom always tells me that no monster can take my dignity, but I can give it away by the way I react towards those who are trying to steal it from me. My mom has a lot of dignity stored up, while I constantly feel like I’m dropping a single coin into a very large and very empty vault.

7/10

Neighthan, Bonita and me all went to the movies tonight. We invited Sirena, but she said she would see where the currents took her. At least she’s consistently inconsistent. The movie was the last one Veronica von Vamp made before she returned to her life as Elissabat and took the throne as the queen of the vampires. Of course, she could always make another one, after all, what’s the point of being the queen if you can’t do what you want every now and again. It was fun, and I liked the theater. It has a standing room only section for those monsters that don’t really fit into a standard size seat. After it was over we went to the Die-ner to grab a late fright snack, but I guess every other monster must have had the same idea, because we had to wait around a while for a table. While we were waiting, we heard two ghouls behind us talking about Monster High. They were exchange students of some sort, one was a lake monster from Rotland and the other was a bigfoot from Monster Picchu. They mostly were talking to Neighthan, which was fine, since he’s genuinely friendly, and ghouls seem to think he’s cute. I don’t see it myself, but that’s probably because I’ve known him for so long, he’s more like a brother to me. I was actually wishing we were closer to this Minotaur manster that was ahead of us in line. He really made my wings flutter, but he was also with this sweet little Cyclops ghoul, and you could tell they only had eye for each other. We finally got seated, though, and our waitress was this vampire ghoul that tried to give us the wrong food twice, but she was so funny and apologetic about it that we had a hard time getting irritated at her. Neighthan said she was the daughter of Dracula, how he knew that I’m not sure, but like I said, he’s much more friendly than the rest of us, and he probably just asked. Sirena finally came floating in after we were finished. She said that she had been exploring the catacombs and met another ghost named Spectra. “I totally lost track of time, and then I got distracted, and then I couldn’t remember where I was supposed to be, so I just came here,” she said. We all talked for a little while longer about our chances of being able to start at MH in the fall. “We’re going to get in,” Neighthan said, “I’m not worried at all.” Bonita was worried, though, and she started chewing on the sleeve of her shirt as we were talking about it. I’m not worried as much about getting in as I am about fitting in. what if it’s the same as every other school we’ve been to? I’m tired of being the odd-monster out, and if they don’t want us then they can just have their stupid school, I don’t care how great it is… deep breath Avea… deep breath. It might be the beast thing to ever happen… or possibly the worst. Maybe, I’ll just cross my fingers and hope for something in the middle.

7/30

I loped down to the mailbox today, hoping to find the new pair of gloves I ordered, palomino in color, velvet in material and just the right size to fit my hands. But what did I find instead? A letter embossed with the Monster High crest and a wax seal stamped with the initials HHB. This put a little giddy in my up, as it was certain to be a rejection letter. So I was all prepared for the thought of yet another year trying to find a school where we’d be welcome. I gave the letter to mom and trotted back to my room. After about a minute I heard her crying, “Yep, I thought, rejection.” Not that I’m cavalier about mom’s hurt feelings. But since I already knew what it was going to say, I guess I just wasn’t going to get all emotional about yet another high school that didn’t want me. I walked back to where mom was standing and gave her a big hug, “It’s okay, mom, we can always try again next year.” She didn’t say anything, she just smiled through the tears and held up the letter.

Miss Avea Trotter

Dear Avea,

We are delighted to inform you that your application for enrollment at Monster High has been accepted for the fall scaremester. We trust that you are as excited to become part of the student body at Monster High as we are to welcome you into it.

Sincerely,

Headless Headmistress Bloodgood

Then, just for a minute, I started crying, too – I’m not sure why, maybe, some part of me hopes this will be the one place where I’ll be accepted for who and what I am… now wouldn’t that be a real kick in the pants.

[flutteringphalanges]

Summary: It is public knowledge that Zoe Van Helsing is the last of her blood line. Not to mention that, in a sense, Count Dracula is too. However, after an unexpected night of passion, both their lives dramatically change when Zoe becomes pregnant. Two unconventional parents, one extraordinary pregnancy. What could go wrong?

Rating: M

Pairings: Zoe Van Helsing/Dracula implied Agatha/Dracula

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: I can’t believe I updated TWO stories in ONE day! This is a first for me in a long time lol! Sorry for being overly excited. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                                Chapter Seven

Zoe no longer winced at needles. After being diagnosed with cancer, she was so used to being pricked and prodded she barely batted an eyelash. As her oncologist drew yet another vial of blood for testing, she sighed softly to herself and gazed upwards at the clock. This appointment was cutting way past her lunch break and in her current state, food was rather important. Particularly when it came to her mood.

"We'll send these down to the lab, but as I said earlier, you're still in remission." Dr. Elliott commented, discarding the needles into the waste container. "Have you felt off at all? I mean, I realize you are pregnant and symptoms can be hard to distinguish sometimes."

"I'm fine." The scientist said with a small smile. "The last thing that sent me vomiting was a block of old cheese I left in the back of the fridge." Absentmindedly, a hand traveled to the small swell of her stomach. "And my obstetrician says the twins look good development wise."

"That's wonderful news!" Her doctor smiled, scribbling something down on her chart. "And their father must be excited as well. You've never brought him in before, I'd quite like to meet him."

Now that made her wince. She envisioned Dracula walking into the cancer ward asking bizarrely specific questions about the various blood bags destined for patient transfusions. Zoe swallowed, mustering up the courage to tell yet another lie in this web of who and what her twins were.

"We aren't together." She said slowly. "It's a complicated situation."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have even brought it up." Dr. Elliott nearly stammered. "It wasn't any of my business. I was merely curious…"

"It's quite alright." Zoe assured her, forcing a smile. "Really, you're not the first. And honestly, it's for the best...all things considered."

"I suppose that's what's important." The oncologist nodded, setting the chart down beside a computer. "Well, that's all I need from you today, Ms. Van Helsing. You know the drill, if you have any concerns or any odd or new symptoms start to arise, please contact me immediately. Especially with you being pregnant, we don't want to take any risks. If your blood results show something, we'll give you a call."

"Okay." The scientist nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

"It was good to see you again, Zoe." Dr. Elliott smiled, reaching for the door handle. "And congratulations again on the little ones. Being a mum is worth all of the troubles."

Zoe smiled but said nothing as the doctor left the room. When the door closed behind her, she inhaled deeply and ran a hand through her hair. Though she meant well, the woman really had no idea what was in store for the scientist. Not that the mother herself had much of a thought either. Rubbing her bump gently, she glanced once more at the clock. Time for work, and what a day, she knew, it'd be.

                                                             XXX

"Maybe someone else should go in with him, you know?" Jack suggested, trying to keep up with Zoe's long strides. "With you being pregnant and all? What if he hurts you?"

Hours had passed since Zoe's doctor visit and the sun had finally sunk over the horizon. As they had discussed, Dracula had held up his end of the bargain and voluntarily entered the Jonathan Harker Foundation. The scientist, of course, had yet to catch sight of him, but knew well enough that Dr. Bloxham and some approved escorts-as chosen by both her boss and the lawyer, were waiting patiently in a secure area.

"He's not going to harm me," the scientist assured him. "Trust me, he wouldn't dare."

"You being sure of that doesn't outweigh the risks." The younger man continued to counter. "Zoe, please." He took the woman by the arm causing her to stop in her tracks. "Don't do this."

For the briefest of moments, a small part of her considered the idea of telling Jack. Admitting that the father of her children was not a stranger, but the vampire Count Dracula himself. But she knew doing so right now was in neither of their best interests. She hated being deceptive. Despised it even. Yet she accepted the fact that she must.

"I'll be okay, Jack." Zoe said gently, pulling away from the doctor. "I am more than capable of handling myself. I've done it before. "The scientist gazed towards the closed metal doors that led into the room where the Count sat freely–without any sort of restraints as per agreement, and sighed. "Interesting yes, but dangerous…" She chewed on the inside of her cheek, choosing her next words carefully. "I'm probably safer in there with him than anywhere else."

And without looking back to gauge Jack's reaction, she slid in her key card and entered the sterile space. The room was rather empty in the sense that not much was in it. It sort of reminded her of those interrogation rooms from crime shows. Unlike last time, there was no prison but a simple metal table with some chairs.

Zoe blinked, the bright light somewhat irritating as she took note of the others in the room. Three burly men stood in the back, their eyes fixed on the scientist. Attached to each of their hips was a strange looking device. A stun gun of some sort she figured. But more importantly, there, sitting rather comfortably in the center was the vampire himself.

"Ah, Dr. Van Helsing." Dracula greeted as the woman ventured over, taking a seat. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't show up and I'd have the misfortune of talking to someone else. Glad to see I can rest easy."

"I apologize if I kept you waiting." She almost had to force the words out. "I was held up with other things. You've been treated well I assume?"

"Well, no one has threatened to burn me into a crisp like last time." The Count smirked, folding his arms over his chest. "I'd say that is an upgrade. Now, enough about me for a moment, Zoe-can I call you that since we'll be working together after all?"

"I suppose…" She muttered, frowning slightly. "...That would be appropriate."

He seemed to smile at this. "If you don't mind me being intrusive, I wanted to ask how your oncology appointment went today. A little birdie told me you had one and considering your condition-congratulations by the way." The way he smiled as he spoke made Zoe's skin crawl. "Well, I thought I'd be polite and ask. We are working together now."

"Fine." She said through clenched teeth. "But you aren't here to discuss me."

"Do something to provoke him. Perhaps he'll make a move and one of the guards will dispose of him properly."

Now standing alongside the three men was the familiar spirit of Agatha. Her blue eyes gave a piercing stare in the vampire's direction. Zoe chewed on her bottom lip, trying not to focus on her late aunt.

"Is everything alright, Zoe?" Dracula asked curiously, snapping the woman out of her trance. "I believe we were on the topic of discussing me rather than you-which is rather unfortunate on my end." His fingers laced together over the table. "I was told you needed another blood sample from me. That the other one went...missing." His tongue briefly darted out as he licked his lips. "I must admit that's rather clumsy on your department's part."

"Yes, well, things happen." Zoe interjected feeling the heat rise up the back of her neck. "But getting another one shouldn't be a problem now will it?"

"Only if you take it yourself." The vampire smirked, chuckling lightly. "You did a good enough job last time...even if it did go missing."

"Serpent." Agatha hissed from her spot in the room.

"We'll be more vigilant this time." The scientist promised with a frown. "That's a guarantee."

                                                        XXX

Zoe couldn't help but grimace a little when Dracula slid his nail over his wrist, slicing through his flesh like fresh butter. She could feel his eyes watching her as she carefully collected the sample, handing it off to a tech that had entered the room.

"Open." She commanded, holding a long cotton swab. "I need your saliva."

"Aren't you worried I might bite?" The vampire teased, opening his mouth as the woman threw him a look. "Adventurous, but aren't all Van Helsings." Zoe continued to be silent as she handed off the Q-tip. "How's your pregnancy fairing? From what little I've picked up from my time here, you don't talk to others much about it."

"My private life and work life are separate for a reason." The scientist finally said, taking a step back from the Count. "And I'd like to keep it that way, especially with you. Here." She sat back down in her seat.

"So what exactly do you plan to do with all of the DNA you took from me?" Dracula asked curiously. "I certainly hope not to attempt to replicate me. Though, an army of vampires might be of use to the government. A race of super soldiers the likes of which the world has never seen." He laughed at his pitiful joke.

"As we expressed before with your lawyer, we merely want to understand you. Humanely. And if you keep cooperating like you are now, things will remain easy." Zoe inhaled deeply. "And if you are curious about the results, I would be more than happy to share with you what we learn as we go along."

"Science is fascinating, isn't it?" Dracula mused, his eyes traveling down to the woman's stomach. "Really makes you ponder about the little things in life."

It was as if he wanted to rely to the world who the father to the twins residing in her belly were. The way he pushed at the boundaries of it all. Zoe tried not to tense up as his dark eyes met hers. They were a team now, in more ways than one. And whether she liked it or not, the expecting mother would have to make it work.

"I think we're done here." Zoe said standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Count Dracula."

She turned on her heels as he called out something to her. Whatever it was, it fell on deaf ears. Exhausted, she made her way out of the room. Thankfully, it seemed Jack had already left for the night. The last thing she needed was to go over today's events with him. Some soup, a movie, and a fuzzy blanket sounded like the closest thing one could reach to Heaven as Zoe headed towards her car.

"You seem to be in an awfully big hurry."

Zoe turned around and bit back a groan as Dracula came into sight. Gone were the guards and any sign of human life. Just the scientist and the vampire alone in the parking lot under the dim street lights.

"Go away." She mumbled. "I've had enough of you for one night."

"I did as you asked." The vampire replied simply. "A thank you would suffice."

"No, what you nearly did was give away the fact that I not only tampered with important evidence, but I conceived not one, but two babies with you!" Zoe hissed under her breath. "So I won't be thanking you."

"Ah, hormones, I read they were raging during the second trimester." Dracula commented, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I honestly don't take it personally. When you come to your senses, you'll realize that in the end, you are the one being ridiculous about this."

"Ridicul-"

Suddenly, a sharp pain ignited from Zoe's lower abdomen. The amusement fell from the vampire's face as the scientist let out a sharp yelp and grabbed the spot. Stars flooded Zoe's vision and they weren't from the sky. Someone called out her name, the word sounding distant as darkness began to swallow her up. A pair of arms caught her before she hit the ground and as the world started to fade, the look of horror etched on Dracula's face might have even been comical. If it weren't for the two, fragile little lives within her.