thelostboylonelyworld

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim got so worried in moving silently to not frighten the man - and the possibility of a real conversation - that when his eyes trailed up the man’s back it was with shock and innocent curiosity they widened at first. In that transparency of unarmed emotion the twin oceans he had for eyes, for a flash of a second, seemed to merge and dance with the iridescent sheen of the scales before him, before they were quickly replaced by two auric jewels of such uniqueness that left the librarian momentarily speechless, and his soul, adrift.

He didn’t move then, he could only drink in those eyes, lost in the melted golden rivers and the oddness of that scintillating skin with untarnished honesty, confusion and then an ardent desire to know more that only rivaled now with the growing speed of his heartbeat inside his ribcage and increasing speed with which coldness ramified from cell to cell, from nerve to nerve, taking him from flesh to bone to marrow and into paralyses. It was familiar, the oldest companion since he woke to this life: fear.

Jenny had told him the curiosity kills the cat, and that other creatures sensed weakness and preyed on it. Because the world was for the strong and she had proved to him he wasn’t. And now had he passed so much time hiding from Death and Pain - consequently losing life as well - for Them to knock on his door and enter without ceremony? Perhaps, if he pretended well, could he survive until they went away, and danger was away too? Did he wanted them to go away? This ma-creature seemed so fascinating, the prospect of even the simplest and most innocuous idealization of company was already and the opportunity of knowing other experiences and beings and-

He had to answer something, he realized.

He blinked, still a tad dazzled as he thought on what was said and then creases appeared lightly on his forehead.

“ This is a very serious book. It’s kept on a special area, due the… uhm… type of usage in the past.”

He said quietly, too quietly, his thoughts running quickly, he had be convincing. His blue eyes now intense and inquisitive. The whispers of the witch trials of the last century were still too fresh and the interest of this supernatural creature did nothing to soothe his fear and suspicion. Does this man know what Caim was learning? Does he knows what he is able to do? His mind was so occupied in that last minute of being prey of a supernatural death that the human ways had escaped him completely, and they often won when it came to cruelty.

“You know, witchcraft.” He said slowly, testing the water, analyzing the man’s every expression and trying to keep his own stoic and unreadable. If the man was there to arrest and send him to the catholic torture chambers he had to convince him otherwise and if he was a witch himself Caim had to be convincing enough so that he could be pass as a possible delator, and therefore input fear so the other didn’t do him harm.

Possibly.

It was all conjectures of a frightened yet mesmerized soul. Either way he felt like his heart was on the edge of escaping through his throat but was stuck.

Stuck in hope.

Because and if he was like him in someway, wouldn’t be extraordinary to learn from another with equal interests?To know of other beings…Wouldn’t be marvelous to finally use such trivial yet so meaningful words as “friend”?

God, he felt paranoid. Felt to much in too little time. Loneliness had his way with him and left him empty, and so deep seemed the void that hope,desperation, curiosity, fear, need and want all seemed to blur and become the same thing.

@ohdarling-xo

At first glance, Llewyn would look entirely human, but a second glance at his appearance shows the cracks in that humanity. His hair, pulled up into a low bun, does a poor job of hiding the sparse black scales on the back of his neck, which could be mistaken for tattoos if not for the unnatural way they caught and reflected what light there is in the library.

Similarly, when he turns his eyes to the librarian, they are not brown or blue or green, or any other typical shade, but a brilliant, almost glowing gold.

He holds himself in a relaxed way that gives away nothing about the power which lurked under his skin, nodding his head. "I was told you have a volume of Saint Leif's Herbs and Tinctures."

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Through the mahogany-framed library’s round window arcs of yellows, oranges and peachy pinks embellished the skies announcing the departure of the Sun and paving, with the delicate grace of its afterglow, the arrival of the queen of the night and its silvery crown. A fine rain precipitated and stained the glass, and while usually the beautiful landscape alone would take a certain librarian’s full attention and commitment, that evening was everything but ordinary, for a customer had entered the shop.

The librarian of said shop knew the exact moment someone entered, the familiar albeit rare tinkle of the brass door chime echoed, yet he didn’t had the courage to present himself. It wasn’t that he was being relapse with his job, far from that - if one asked he would proudly say that his library was the most well cared of the region proudly. It’s that he had so little contact with people commonly and in recent times even rarer costumers searching for knowledge that a type of dread possessed him. The kind of dread he experienced every night in his nightmares of looming painful death from other creatures and humans alike. Life in the confines of those wooden walls were serene, uneventful, comfortable. It was a good life, if one would ask him, thank you very much - he loved his books. But the fact was, they weren’t able to suffice this new need for connection anymore. Onelearned with them yes, but they could not exchange ideas, they didn’t had a proper voice and although rich in texture, smell and materiality, it lacked the warmth and heat that alive bodies supposedly have.

So he gave a deep breath and, while building up courage, walked from one shelf to another, wide azure eyes, half shy yet entirely curious, sneaked further between the book to have quick glances of the newcomer. Dark hair, pale complexion. He pretended to steer a book cart and almost crashed the nearest wall since evidently his attention was caught in how the man was dressed and wether the way he held himself could give him any hint of his degree of dangerousness. It was only after three or four corridors of active - and not so subtle - sneaking that Caim noticed the guy seemed to be having some difficulty in finding what he came for. So, as silently as he could manage, he approached their back.

“ Good evening, good sir. How can I be of service?”

His bass voice echoed quietly and surprisingly serene, yet tenderly warm due it’s thick honeyed timbre.

@ohdarling-xo

FOR @thelostboylonelyworld

---------------

Llewyn rarely went to libraries. Usually, if he needed to know something, the books he had would give him that knowledge, but he had found himself in need of knowledge of a rare herb, and none of the volumes at home would do.

So, he found himself in a library, which he had heard from a friend of a friend had books on herbs and witchcraft, walking through the aisles and inspecting them for what he needed.

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim was vaguely aware of his own body moving in its own volition - that same strange subtle pull of pendulum motion towards the stranger - apart from any decision of his mind, which was too occupied at the moment with the dilemma of the posed question and whether he should answer it or not - his eyes, kept into theirs.

"I-"

He shouldn't speak with the dragon, Jenny had told him, just watch. The dangerousness was... yet-

The starvation of his soul, he being able to name it or not, was unequivocal. To hear a voice that wasn't produced by his own vocal cords, the aching need to exchange ideas beyond the black ink and yellowed pages of his dusty books.

"-would be dead if she hadn't found me. I woke with no memory, she gave me a place where my flesh could rest safely, nourishment to my body, taught me how to read so I could have a shot in trying to understand the dynamics and who knows, one day, be able to balance myself in the thin, frail and unstable threads that shape and weave the vast fabric that is society, often nonsensical, but always complex. Always dangerous too, humans and all other beings are so...cruel." - Caim's body shivered. - "That's why-"

Caim's came back of his own thoughts and feelings, large blue eyes focusing back on - pale blue? - the light of the ambience played tricks on his mind, it seemed.

"-I hesitate existing outside safety."

Why had he said "hesitate"? He should have said "don't want to", because outside there was only death, suffering and pain, Jenny told him, the books told him. But the books told him other things too; whispered conspiratorially in the ears of his soul about ties - threads, that although thin, were stronger than hate, power or vengeance, made of this material often defined as love, able to take many shapes, sizes and colours. It could exist in the wide open canvas of the passions of carnal pleasure or in the subtlety of childlike doodles painted in tender and candid comprehension in the share of a gaze. It was alike the latter he ached for, he realized with shock. He wanted "ties", but the instinct of his body screamed clearly it would lead to his death, and Jenny reinforced it with ironlike certainty.

Blue eyes watched the attention with which the dragon reserved to him, he was curious. This was how he looked? Because all the time Caim felt curious, for Jenny's annoyance. But he did not understand...it felt good to have someone interested in anything he had to say, not angering.

Attention can be seductive.

Jenny's words echoed in his mind. That could be a strategy to do him harm, couldn't it? Dragons were known for its deceitful skills. According to Jenny, all being had that in them. But in his very brief life Caim hadn't the time yet to learn such, what made him vulnerable, and therefore easy prey, hence why he should be kept hidden on Jenny's library. Curiosity can kill the cat after all, and he felt pretty much like the cat, but at the same time he felt so alive and deeply conflicted now. He pondered if he should have kept his mouth and curiosity shut when he saw Jenny carrying someone, yet something in his gut didn't have the strength to regret it. And that's something he couldn't deny.

None of this made sense to Obsidian. But that wasn't surprising. He didn't have much contact with humans before. Dragons preferred to keep to themselves. Besides, they don't serve anyone. They are free creatures, and many of them are loners.

That's why Obsidian couldn't understand why someone would choose to be a servant. "Jenny?!" he repeated, obviously confused. No, none of this made any sense, but the dragon did not have the energy to ask any more questions. He just wanted to get rid of this collar. "No, don't worry, I won't say anything."

When Obsidian reached the other end of the tank, he rested his arms on the edge and leaned his chin on his arms. He watched the other's movements intently.

"Why did you choose to be a servant then when you are free?"

[thelostboylonelyworld]

The brunet’s head tilted as his large eyes observed each and all expression that passed through the other’s features. He drank in such a happening with the same peculiar curiosity and silent glee as new childhood discoveries. He watched the humanlike hand move to the collared neck, and the humanlike injuries, and the very humanlike blood… blue hues averted to the wall, losing, just for a fraction of the second it lasted his gaze on the cold alabaster, all the lightness and joy.

A smile cracked in his lips before his eyes could meet the creature once more. From them a husky, deep yet paradoxically candid laugh escaped, followed by a full of amusement bright gaze.

“ No, Jenny, the librarian.”

He answered with absurd simplicity.

“ Although you could call her Queen, “ Queen of The Grumpiness.”

He jested, not without some affection.

“ But don’t tell her I said that, eh?”

And then the sound of water moving reached his ears first as he watched the man depart of the edge of the ceramic tank. And that effect seemed to give him the impression the movements of the creature were happening in slow motion, yet his own perception was only able to be captured, for his strangeness, into the burning bright of their eyes. His body almost imperceptibly tilting almost like a pendulum forward, as if pulled by magnetic force. And was that astonishing occurrence that made him blink lethargically in silence moments after the words of the other guy were uttered.

And then with some delay confusion hit his expression.

“ But I am free.”

@eldcradc

continued from here with @thelostboylonelyworld

Visibly puzzled, Obsidian furrowed his brow, his gaze fixed on the unknown person in the room. The dragon was puzzled that it was not his captor in the room, but a servant. He lifted his hand and traced his fingertips over the collar around his neck. He had already tried to rip it off several times, resulting in bloody lacerations all over his neck.

"She? Who is she? The queen?"

The dragon asked curiously. Slowly he moved from the edge to the center of his 'bathtub'.

"Free me from this collar and I'll free you from this place."

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Azure almond hues watched quite astonished the guy in front of him, if not in uncomfortable curiosity.

“I?… Nothing.”

His warm bass voice echoed with sincerity and mild confusion. He blinked a few times as surprise took his features with their next words.

“ We both are, I mean, servants.”

Was he?

He never tried to disobey to know if he was wrong about such belief. Now, a light doubt started to awake in him.

He had answered rather awkwardly, flickering the two starry skies he had for eyes to the ground under him. Would be nice, to know what he was too.

“I was just curious, so she assigned me to watch you.”

He said candidly simple, eyes locking back in the impressively piercing dark ones.

@eldcradc

open to m only muse: obsidian, dragon (shifter), appears twenty-7

The dragon still sat in the already cold, dirty water. His body had been cleaned of dirt and blood long ago but he didn't budge. His people had been attacked and he had been kidnapped. Now he was here in the kidnapper's castle. "What will you do if I do not submit? I am a dragon, not your servant." But he couldn't turn into a dragon. Obsidian wore a kind of collar that deprived him of all magic.

[thelostboylonelyworld]

The mental tension was high and suspended as well as Caim’s breath when Dorian stalled. The silence that followed was absolute, magnifying and materializing the apprehensiveness while anxiety in its quietude felt so heavy and thick that they almost could be cut with a knife.

The man’s words didn’t make anything less uncomfortable. Caim always assumed he was a human once, and even though he had his fare share of human victims, to see it materialized in another beings acts felt…bothersome.

Caim blinked twice again, and strangely lethargically, as his brain assimilated the information about werewolves and…perhaps he should sit.

When he thought his mind perhaps was shutting down, when things all around him started to seem too bright and sharp and simultaneously smudgy and foggy, and he felt too self aware of the cold sweat dripping down his temples, his attention was caught by the man raising up and then with a light motion of a finger all blood and carnage disappeared and Caim was left overwhelmed in so many ways he bared reacted besides the blue large orbs widening.

And then azure hues locked in forest greens.

Magic? Okay, he was receiving too much information and he felt that he would crack soon.

Caim hadn’t noticed. Caim noticed everything. Yet he only surfaced to real awareness when he saw the form of a white card between long elegant fingers. But they weren’t quite… right. The out line of the white card against the dark that framed it was….shaky? Perhaps, unfocused. Caim’s brows frowned. He looked to his own pale hand stretched midway in Dorian’s direction, but his attention was driven elsewhere. As soon as he looked down he detected his own chest was moving unnaturally quick, and then he came aware that his breath escaped of his lips loudly, he was panting, he was panicking.

He tried to grasp forward the card, the man or anything really, as he felt his own weight working against him as he felt drowning in the darkness behind and under him.

@rpblog-of-blogs

"I have no intentions to harm you. I only harm humans."

He stalled for a moment at that.

"And the occasional deer; but that usually happens if I'm hunting with a pack of werewolves. There is a pack that enjoys my company from time to time. Hell hounds are the fathers of werewolves after all."

He stood slowly, and looked around at the carnage he had left. His feral head had made a mess. Luckily his current head could do something about it.

A snap of fingers, and the blood and carnage vanished. It would appear in the nearby woods for the animals to eat. The area was clean. Even the symbols that he had painted on the walls were gone.

"It is not my intention to frighten you. The denizens of Hell do not harm those of the Supernatural world. Your magic. Your hunger. Even in the moments when I am most lost to insanity; you would be safe with me."

The hell hound wanted to move closer. His fingers tingled where he had touched the other's cheek.

Pulling something out of his pocket, he gently handed it toward the other.

"And I don't want to fuck you. I want something deeper than that. But since you want me to leave you alone to prove it...take this. It's my contact information. If ever you need help, you can call me. Is that agreeable?"

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim’s head jerked back a third time in the same night, eyes closing in clear confusion. In the question of milliseconds the man in front of him changed completely, from his posture, to his voice and intonation. If it wasn’t from the blood staining his lips, descending to his chin and clothes he would have thought this was another person completely. He lightly shook his head trying to grasp some sense of reality before gazing back and down to the man again.

“Yes, I am familiar with the usage of that word to such purpose. Yet, everything surrounding us do not work in your advantage for me to believe in what you say, do it?”

He asked slowly, his sapphire large eyes quiet and suspiciously cautious didn’t avert from Dorian’s figure nor the green emerald that were his eyes.

Caim didn’t gave him his name.

“Uhu.” He gave a half nod of acknowledgment to the new information. Things were confusing, by now he didn’t know if the guy was just delusional and believed he was indeed a three headed dog or if he should really believe in the truth of such words. Truth or not, both of them felt dangerous, if the bloody mess around them wasn’t real enough, the bloody heart on the other’s hand would do the job just fine. And now Caim’s large eyes were kept fixed on the dead organ.

Caim himself didn’t know if his origin was of human nature. All he read about what he was supposed to be started with humanity. Which made the meaning of Dorian’s words even less clear to him. Perhaps, was just his mechanism of fly or fight acting up, seeing a myriad of threats for second.

He killed humans. Yeah, no kidding!

And then the heart was being thrown away like an empty chocolate packaging with such frivolous insolence, that Caim felt the pain of this as if it was his own heart amidst the blood and mud. Something sunk once more inside his stock and a continuous cold sensation inside his nape seemed to keep his mind sharp.

The new informations coming from Dorian’s lips seemed both too slow and too much inside his mind. Caim’s head lightly shook again trying to gasp the meaning of such words. He blinked lethargically.

“W-What?”

Caim, against any self preservation and common sense, retreated from the man’s touch a few steps. His insides felt like in the edge of hyperventilating, bursting. He moved his palms open and up in a pacifier gesture, as he blinked multiple time.

“ Don’t, dude. Just- I am not interested, okay? It’s very flattering, but I don’t want to be courted, or your blood, or anything-”

A nervous snort escaped his lips as he tripped over the words.

“ You can’t really believe I will trust you after all of that, can you?”

He gesticulated to their surroundings.

“If you really care enough to want to fuck me, the biggest proof you can give me is leaving me alone.”

Caim’s wished truly badly to say he had said that with composure, coolness and style but he was hyperventilating, weathered by the fear of death or worse.

He wished to have said something clever, something that made, at least, the other fear him and leave him alive. Any hunger had disappeared as the idea of eminent death touched his soul.

Yet what most terrorized him was that he still could feel the phantom warmth of Dorian’s touch in his skin, like burning fingerprints in carbon paper.

And the thing was, he was so fucked, it didn’t even felt unpleasant. Not at all.

@7dvls

Caim’s head jerked back abruptly as the man-creature- thing bared his teeth to attack. It was happening, he was going to die. And then when he thought the other would lunge at him he turned and started to pace.

Yes, well, after the massacre surrounding them and the show of emotional instability Caim didn’t doubt at all of the man capacity of taking whatever or whoever he wanted.

Hell.

Well, that brought another layer of ice cold pain to his frightened blood. Wasn’t he lucky? He didn’t even had a religion, he didn’t even knew if he believed in God, angels and demons and- that wasn’t time for a spiritual crisis when his life was at stake. He had to find a way to get alive, unharmed and inviolate.

Caim gazed the now cylindrical pile of ashes that once formed his cigarette between his fingers. And then he spoke the word: vampire.

The librarian blue eyes snapped back at the man completely baffled.

How he-?

“How you-?” He stopped himself mid question. Well, he was a supernatural being, he supposed they knew how to identify another… even though he didn’t really consider himself a true vampire.

Lit up… lit up…oh! The burning sensation, that’s what it was? Well, he really didn’t know what to do with that information.

“… And what means… to be compatible?” Caim asked cautiously. You see, he wasn’t heartless, but as much information he could get to survive, better. And he knew that emotional unbalance were the best moments to he that.

Caim observed the man sit and speak about his beautiful appearance and a smile cracked in his lips. It was such a simplistic, almost puerile idea. That, of beauty being able to open any door. He thought adults could not harbor such oversimplified beliefs. That made him feel strangely… belonging.

Caim squatted in front of the man. Tilting his head lightly so he could search their eyes easier. If he told anyone that he knew what he was doing exactly at the moment, it would be a lie.

But attaining to the truth, he was fucking fearing for his life still. He should be running.

“ Well, that’s not how things work with me. Not the lack of courting or how I eat. I am different. As I believe you are too.” He tried, his voice a gentle, warm timbre, echoing with the comforting softness of a lullaby. Perhaps empathy could save him.

“ But I can’t help you with what you want of me.”

Once again Caim’s head jerked back lightly. Yes, he was hungry, in a myriad of ways that not even him was able to comprehend. And now looking into the man’s eyes he wondered if it was more than one meaning to his ask. Yet, no hunger could worth more than his life. Which… it didn’t made any sense… and Caim’s confusion was absurdly clear in his large blue eyes.

“ Wait… you said you wanted to devour me…there is no need for you to find me nourishment if your intention is to kill me.”

And then he wished to slap himself. He had just reminded a violent killer, one that he just denied, that they could kill him. Very clever.

Caim stood up thinking if there were any possibility of him getting alive if he started running now.

@7dvls

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim’s head jerked back abruptly as the man-creature- thing bared his teeth to attack. It was happening, he was going to die. And then when he thought the other would lunge at him he turned and started to pace.

Yes, well, after the massacre surrounding them and the show of emotional instability Caim didn’t doubt at all of the man capacity of taking whatever or whoever he wanted.

Hell.

Well, that brought another layer of ice cold pain to his frightened blood. Wasn’t he lucky? He didn’t even had a religion, he didn’t even knew if he believed in God, angels and demons and- that wasn’t time for a spiritual crisis when his life was at stake. He had to find a way to get alive, unharmed and inviolate.

Caim gazed the now cylindrical pile of ashes that once formed his cigarette between his fingers. And then he spoke the word: vampire.

The librarian blue eyes snapped back at the man completely baffled.

How he-?

“How you-?” He stopped himself mid question. Well, he was a supernatural being, he supposed they knew how to identify another… even though he didn’t really consider himself a true vampire.

Lit up… lit up…oh! The burning sensation, that’s what it was? Well, he really didn’t know what to do with that information.

“… And what means… to be compatible?” Caim asked cautiously. You see, he wasn’t heartless, but as much information he could get to survive, better. And he knew that emotional unbalance were the best moments to get that.

Caim observed the man sit and speak about his beautiful appearance and a smile cracked in his lips. It was such a simplistic, almost puerile idea. That, of beauty being able to open any door. He thought adults could not harbor such oversimplified beliefs. That made him feel strangely… belonging.

Caim squatted in front of the man. Tilting his head lightly so he could search their eyes easier. If he told anyone that he knew what he was doing exactly at the moment, it would be a lie.

But attaining to the truth, he was fucking fearing for his life still. He should be running.

“ Well, that’s not how things work with me. Not the lack of courting or how I eat. I am different. As I believe you are too.” He tried, his voice a gentle, warm timbre, echoing with the comforting softness of a lullaby. Perhaps empathy could save him.

“ But I can’t help you with what you want of me.”

Once again Caim’s head jerked back lightly. Yes, he was hungry, in a myriad of ways that not even him was able to comprehend. And now looking into the man’s eyes he wondered if it was more than one meaning to his ask. Yet, no hunger could worth more than his life. Which… it didn’t made any sense… and Caim’s confusion was absurdly clear in his large blue eyes.

“ Wait… you said you wanted to devour me…there is no need for you to find me nourishment if your intention is to kill me.”

And then he wished to slap himself. He had just reminded a violent killer, one that he just denied, that they could kill him. Very clever.

Caim stood up thinking if there were any possibility of him getting alive if he started running now.

@7dvls

Dorian snapped his teeth and snarled.

"That is not how beings of Hell work. We see what we want and we take it. We do not court like foolish mortals!"

He paced back and forth. He was agitated. It was close to the month when Hell Hounds mated and created offspring with one another. Far from Hell, he had no one.

But he was on a mission from Lucifer. A mission to spread fear.

"You lit up when I drew the sigil on you. We are compatible...vampire."

He huffed and sat down heavily on the ground, in perhaps the only spot that wasn't covered in blood.

"I could provide for you. Lure victims in with my pretty face. You would never go hungry."

He held up a heart now. The only one he hadn't eaten.

"Are you not hungry?"

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim restrained himself of moving when he saw the other being extend his hand towards him, approaching him with unwavering resolution and eerie focus. Caim just closed his eyes, expecting for the worst while he felt cold fear paralyze his spine. When finally the bloody fingers touched the skin of his cheek, Caim winced faintly. For his complete surprise they were warm and unexpectedly soft and it moved against his sling in different directions before it finally moved away. Yet the loss of warmth didn’t had time to be felt, for, in the same second where the other’s long fingers touch he felt a expanse of strange warmth, a burning arising inside his flesh not unlike apricity. And it was so soft that in that millisecond his squeezed eyes relaxed and from parted lips a gentle sigh escaped.

And then a clap of hands made him open his eyes dazedly to focus confusedly in the man dancing in front of him. Only one word danced in his mind: unpredictable. And therefore dangerous. And then the man excitedly spoke of devouring him and any placidity his stuttering heart had acquired was now gone. Fear threatened to corrode his insides once more. And when the man approached him once more sniffing, touching him, both with his hands and gaze. Those two eerie globes that seems to pierce his very soul.

The librarian could almost feel the heat of the creature’s breath tickling against his hair, so close he was. And something inside him shifted. His stomach clenched with the contact in a weird way. He felt certainly threatened, and yet the words said like that-sounded like a promise. An attempt of seduction. And Caim definitely wasn’t understanding the mixed signals of his own body reactions. So once the being stopped speaking, Caim moved his face so now he was able to look to their eyes.

“ Thanks, dude. But no. For both.”

He chuckled charmingly.

“ You know how they say: buy me a drink first?”

He joked. Noticing his words could be taken wrongly a second too late, he added.

“ But really, I get very flattered, but these is not kind of my thing.”

Yes, be devoured really wasn’t his thing. Even if life sucked, he was quite attached to it. And have relations, well, demanded contact, what demanded risk, and what inevitably led to hurt. In this case denying the creature seemed that would led in hurt as much as saying yes.

Now, how he would charm his way out, and with life seemed a mystery to him. He tried.

“ I just have some really important things to do, so..”

@7dvls

Dorian moved closer, reached out, drew a symbol on the other's cheek. The symbol glowed faintly, causing Dorian to clap his hands together and dance a bit.

"Oh wonderful! You are delightful! You will be delicious...that is...if you wish to be devoured."

His eyes seem to change, looking darker, but sanity seems to have returned. Like the predator he is, he circles the other, sniffing from a distance before getting in close and sniffing at the other's neck, a hand resting on the other's belly, squeezing gently, claws scratching in a ... comforting . . . sort of way.

"Would you like to be devoured?"

His voice is sensual now.

"To be mated?"

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim had just adjusted his leather jacket while lighting the cigarette between his lips. His mind was distant and tired. He just wanted to finish the job, kill some gang dude and go home. That when the scent of blood reached him and reminded each fiber of his being why he was out at night: the hunger.

So Caim walked calmly, hopeful that his prey was already hurt, making his job easier when he halted in place, his blue large eyes wild like the ones of a puppy, completely in shock, it didn’t dare to move away of the predator. His heart racing and the fear spreading, eating away each cell, nerve and ramifications, flesh, bone and marrow.

Fuck! He was so fucked! He would die ! He was so fucking holy fucked! He would die!He would die!

Caim flickered his cigarette between his fingers with a serene, clean elegant motion, so the excess of ash fell on the bloody ground, and with a brain melting grin, with no lacking sensuous mirth he chuckled warmly.

“ I am, aren’t I?”

His bass, soothing voice echoed quietly amused.

He winked nonchalantly. Checking the predator intensely from head to toe, quite collected.

@7dvls

Does that make me Insane?

@thelostboylonelyworld

"Not human..."

He looked at the other being in the 'den'. He was not human. Which meant he was safe from Dorian's hunter. So hungry.

Bodies lay around him, each heart eaten. There were strange symbols written in blood on the walls. The floors. The ceiling. Blood and blood and blood.

The hell hound looked at the other.

"You look delicious."

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Still, Caim could not trust, it was only words and from a vampire on top of that. A sparkle of hope flickered inside of him when the other seemed to agree with the teeth extraction, and a relief smile almost dared to appear in the tip of his lips as he nodded with the amendment, but such smile was soon washed off as he snapped.

“ Shave your hair was the plan, genius! It wasn’t for you to feel pain! It wasn’t for I—But you woke up and- and—” Caim’s eyes became lightly glassy again, as he spaced out, his voice softening to an almost thought whispered out loud. “I-I- and- And it was— so beautiful, held so much promise of-of- sun warmth and-and happiness - so intangible, so impossible and undeserving and unfair…”

Caim eyes closed and stayed like that for a second longer as he came back. A solitary tear escaped his eyes and when he focused on the man’s bloody face again they were excruciatingly full of melancholy.

“ You woke up and I lost it.”

He breathed out abruptly, tiredly.

And then he deviated his eyes. They only went back to the vampire’s figure when he spoke once more, and now they shone with transparent hesitancy and distrust.

“ I can’t risk to let you go now, you still could kill me the moment I do, or worse, you could bite me.” He spoke filterless as he spoke too quickly to actually process the depth of what such statement meant. “You evidently do not have super strength or you would already be freed. I will free you once I am back of the contractor’s lair and after I have pulled out them myself, where and when I have the certainty you won’t simply disappear and suddenly kill me in near future. If this is how is going to be, it will be own my terms.”

@royal-descent

"I am going to kill your patron in the most excruciating way possible. As soon as this sedative wears off please trust my words. I won't kill you, but them. They will die. A horrible death." Roland was furious but it was clear this servant was not worth the breadth of his ire, he would however pay him back in kind.

"My fangs." he said softly. They would grow back as well in time but it would leave him impotent for a bit. "Amendment. You will feed me until my fangs grow back and your have yourself a deal." Roland winced when the young man mentioned his hair, his once lovely mane now gone. A flash of angry in his eyes.

"You will thank me for every ounce of pain I cause you. I'd have been furious had you simply shaved my head but you didn't need to be so brutal about it." though Roland had caused his own fair share of pain in the world, and his victims were probably no less furious with him than he was with this boy.

"Let me go and I will pull out my fangs for you to use as your...'evidence'."

[thelostboylonelyworld]

It seemed fair, but it didn’t seem true.

He was taught to distrust vampires, along the years where he gained courage he may have had a lapse of memory, a very fatal one. But if this situation was of any use, it was to refresh his memory. His fucking contractor was a vampire, and his own fucking victim was too. Nothing was clearly stated to him. Thoughts passed too quickly inside his head and Caim could only gaze the wet ground under him, his own pale hands, while his eyes flickered lightly as his mind tried to find a way of this, and-

Caim’s face suddenly filled with color and his eyes once more were bright with a shiny new idea. He got up messily as he once more approached the table, now locking his eyes with the vampire’s and speaking so quickly it felt almost incoherent in its chaos. Now the matter was surviving.

“ I can’t trust you- I could release you and in the second I did, you could kill me. Or if indeed you are telling the truth, if you really will not kill me, that means the contractor will, do you understand? But I have an idea! You see, I can show you them proof of their orders being followed, like showing your hair, telling them I need more of those sedatives to be prepared - it takes a week at least. Buy us time to run. But…-”

And then he paused, hesitantly. He deviated his eyes.

“ I would have to bring more evidences ordered besides your hair….I would have to get your fangs. And I need you to agree with me in that, I’ll bring you blood when I return from there. Does your fangs worth your freedom to you? Because that’s the only plan I was able to get that can minimally guarantee my safety as well as yours.”

Caim felt like in an adrenaline rush, not at all pleasant and absolutely despairing.

“And then you can do whatever you want with me.”

“ I mean excluding murdering me.”

@royal-descent

"Pathetic creature. If you're going to be ruthless be ruthless finish what you started. You've already maimed me." The vampire spat angry of course but his disgust with the hunter was more than that, follow your hunt the way through. "How about this then you little thing. You let me go and I won't kill you, but I will untie upon you all the pain you caused me. And once I am satisfied we are even, I'll let you go. I Might even heal you if I feel so inclined." he growled. Blood trailed down his face, even after the skin knit itself back together he was still filthy from the spatter from before. "And clean up this mess you caused. Clean me up and clean me off."

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Fever Dream (Chick Strand, 1979)

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim didn’t had the strength to look to the man’s face, overwhelmed with the impact of his own despicable deeds. He wished so desperately to tell him that he never meant to make the other suffer, that’s why the sedatives were for, for fucks sake, but he knew that what mattered was his actions not his intentions. And he struggled now to accept that indeed he was capable of such atrocity.

The former librarian, still baring the physical and mental symptoms of a break down, when hearing the man’s next words could not truly make sense of them. He didn’t know what oddities the man spoke about. Be having a… what? Panic attack, regret of his violent actions, repulsion towards himself…was such a rare event in the guy’s view? He wandered them what kind of people and place surrounded him in a daily basis. Then, a phrase brought his mind back to a sharper instance.

He never called the guy a monster. The other could be short of a marble, yes, delusional, very much. But he was still human. What made Caim’s actions even worst. Yes, yes, if anyone was to be called a monster in this room, it was Caim.

Trying to push air to his lungs once more Caim started to turn to face the man once more, to face his monstrosity materialized in another’s pain, determined to release the guy and suffer the consequences of his actions. He was able to kill, yes. But he didn’t had the guts, he didn’t had the heart to-

Red eyes.

Caim staggered back abruptly, hitting the metal trolley behind him, which in its turned moved and hit the closer concrete wall with a loud cacophony of clanks and clatters. Without nothing to stop his fall Caim fell butt to the ground utterly shell shocked.

Red eyes swirled into his mind again and again. His face now was so pale that he seemed dead, his lips lightly blue, probably out of the cold that shot through his spine and paralyzed him. Only his large teary blue eyes seemed to be intensely alive as a myriad of emotions fought for dominance over his body.

The man wasn’t human!

He could feel his heart start to race so quickly that part of him wondered if he wasn’t in the edge of a heart attack. The man was telling the truth, yet, Caim never saw a vampire like this.

Caim started to pace around the room. Hyperventilating.

He could not release the man anymore. He didn’t know the extent of his strength or powers, the guy was a question mark to him. He knew nothing about this kind of vampire. Caim didn’t want to die. But he felt he would, anyway. He got himself fucked. For if he was designed to kill a vampire most probably the gang leader wasn’t human either. It didn’t matter what he did now, he would die!

He should have stayed in the library, locked, safe, afraid, rightfully so, of any supernatural being and human alike. Now he had just tortured one.

He didn’t know what to do! He didn’t know what to do! He didn’t know what to fucking do!

He caught, with shaking hands, the sedative gun and opened the chamber: empty.

And then the red rimmed eyes started to shed tears, and in the gaping breathing now could be heard painful little noises he struggled to repress until he wasn’t able to hold anymore and he cried now out loud, shrunken against the wall.

“ I-I can’t re- release y-you. Yo-you’ll kill m-me or- or T-they wi-will. A-and I ca-can’t kill y-you, I-I don’t have the guts- not a-after, not after th-this!”

He had said between painful sobs after long minutes of painful crying. And once he uttered the last word he started crying copiously.

@royal-descent

"You're not half as dead as you will be if I get free. I will rip you limb from limb and make you suffer like you have made me suffer." Roland snarled panting at the effort he was putting forward to his and he would do everything in his power to make it happen if he were to get free. How dare this- boy. Violate him like that. Cause him to bleed.

"What the fuck are you? You refuse to believe my own lineage and yet you are here displaying your own oddities. You call me a monster and yet you are far worse than I have been thus far." he said with a growl, his sharp teeth bared. The more infernal side of his being coming out in his rage. The cool and calm demeanor cast aside.

"I will relish testing how many ways I can end you."

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Only Caim’s uneven breath escaping out his lips could be heard in the silence that followed.

“ I-…” the panic taking him interrupted his voice and just an agonizing high pitched whimper escaped him. His knuckles white clutching the table only seemed to magnify in strength, as if the piece of metal was his own lifeline. And judging by the symptoms that his body revealed, it seemed quite accurate that such was what his brain understood too. Finally Caim was able to move, he turned his face to the left, as if speaking to the man over his shoulders. But his eyes were bright of tears, almost glassy, and he wasn’t able of looking directly behind him, directly at the once golden haired man.

The most curious and strange thing though, was that his pupils seemed to be expanding, almost taking all the blue of his irises, almost taking all the white of them while oscillating. Now beads of sweat ran freely down his temples.

“ I already am.”

Came finally his bass voice, but it felt so… vulnerable . The manly timbre differing so starkly of the expression of it that one could even doubt if it wasn’t uttered by a boy instead.

@royal-descent

While Caim tied the man to a metal table inside the cage, torso and wrists tied firmly in a myriad of places, their conversation kept turning back in his head. The guy hadn’t knew truly what were the weakness of a vampire and ended up messing it with fairy lore. He knew Santa Carla’s vamp and no one of them had weakness with silver.

Even Roland being completely delusional, Caim could admire his guts of talking back and how eloquent he was. That was admirable. And then as he turned his back to the table starting to get the tools to shave the blond’s hair he heard: pants.

He moved slowly to stare at the man, his large eyes wide for the first time and as well for the first time giving him the semblance of a lost puppy as his face paled.

I thought you were going to kill me.

He thought he did.

His lips parted, but he didn’t let the words escape. Roland baring his teeth made his heart skip a beat, even though his semblance hadn’t leaked one emotion more. And then he noticed, there were only two sharp teeth! Not rolls and rolls of teeth like the real vamps. The guy truly believed he was a vampire, so much he made a surgery to change his teeth. Caim relaxed with a chuckle as he landed his hand on the top of Roland’s hair, looking down at him almost affectionately.

“That’s nuts, man. I don’t know if I pity you or get sad for you. You really wanted to be a vampire, don’t you?Is a blessing to not be…” He said while caressing the other man’s hair absentmindedly, only now noticing how soft and beautiful it was. As his fingers slides through it and warmth sipped through his skin, a flash of idea passed through his mind. How beautiful the golden locks would look in the Sun, spread out against the grass like a halo of light. Soothing and warm in his fingertips as he played with them until he fell into the dreamland in peace for loneliness and shadows could not follow him, as long as he stayed wrapped into the light of such golden clock. Misery seemed distant then…

Blue eyes opened and they were filled with absurd warmth and devotion and even happiness as it fixed on Roland’s, and then a shadow passed through them and they became dark and angry. Without warning Caim pulled brutally the lock curled against his fingertips and the tuft of hair was now on his hand.

His jaw clenched mercilessly.

He would never have warmth.

Another lock of hair pulled.

He would never be not alone.

One more lock.

Or be at peace.

At each pull more euphoric and desperate he felt and more bloody his hands became. He could not hear any scream, for in his head these cruel voices that sounded so much like himself were too loud.

He had no content.

He would never be happy.

He didn’t deserve to be loved.

And with the last pull Caim’s almost collapsed on the table and onto Roland. If the blond’s torso weren’t tightly tied, easily he would be able to bite Caim’s neck, such was the proximity. He clutched the metal edges with slightly trembling hands. His breath was completely ragged, his face would be completely sick pale if it wasn’t for the angry red around his eyes, evidence of his suppressing tears. He could only feel the cold surface of the table. His eyes looked up then, and he was met with a bloody mess. There were little to no hair in Roland’s head, but blood and wounds in all its extension. Caim’s lips parted, and his face paled even more as he abruptly and clumsily withdrew of the table, hitting the tool table behind him.

The smell of blood was intoxicating an for the first time not in a good way.

He opened and closed his lips a lot but no word escaped him. A tear dared to run from his left eye. He was horrified.

This isn’t personal. This wasn’t personal.

But there was not what he saw right in front of him.

He wouldn’t apologize. He couldn’t. It was his job. But he didn’t want to hurt.

“T-the contractor, they-they think you are handsome, they envy, they- they want to take that vanity out of you.” He said visibly shaken, he didn’t knew how he remembered those words. They told him, when he closed the deal, to say that to Roland, so Roland would know that everything would be stripped of him, even his dignity.

But Caim knew now, as he turned his back to Roland’s table, leaning his hand on the tools trolley heavily, he knew as the almost inaudible sounds of his tears met the metal tray of torture utensils that Roland’s wasn’t the only one whose dignity was being stripped in that fucking room.

@royal-descent

[thelostboylonelyworld]

— Warsan Shire

[thelostboylonelyworld]

Caim lit and gave another drag of his cigarette while he observed, seemingly undisturbed, the man in front of him. He was leaned lightly against the table opposite the sink casually and could not help but raise a brow at the other’s words.

The things was: he knew. He knew all too well. That meant it didn’t scare the hell out of him? No.

You see, it hit him too close to home to see this man struggling with bloodlust. He had been there too. Caim considered himself a defective vampire. He wasn’t like the animalistic vampires of Santa Carla, his face didn’t morph, he didn’t had the same weaknesses and, unfortunately, neither most of the strengths. He only heard of a different branch of vampires from Jenny, the library owner who gave him job and shelter. Mostly her words were to frighten him, she often said the “ civilized vampires” were more cruel than the ones of his little city. Well, her attempt of frightening him worked quite well. He basically locked himself from the world in that library. Yet, defective or not, Caim had to feed, and he usually got “ kill for pay” little jobs with the gangs of region that had beef with each other. So, when he saw in one night a man passing for such familiar situation, despise all instincts of self-preservation, Caim felt fascinated. It was new, and different, and woke in him with the same irresistible pull of hunger, an implacable curiosity. The same urge that made him risk his safety from time to time to kill, now moving him to offer his own neck.

Yes, perhaps Caim didn’t know what he was offering, indeed. But he wanted too intensely to ignore.

Certainly living a life locked away in fear clearly seemed to be taking a tool of him since now he was choosing the possibility of death over a life he was unable to enjoy and share with others.

Caim straightened his leather jacket, letting the smoke escape from his lips before walking towards the vampire.

“Will It? “ His bass, serene voice echoed. Soothingly quiet as he now was leaning against the sink by the vampire’s side. “ Man, my smell may not manifest such, but I am not human. Well, I am not exactly a vampire either, for what it counts, but my blood may help you just a bit, in this moment of crisis, you know?”

He didn’t knew exactly what he was. He didn’t know why he was exposing vulnerabilities like this, but he knew the vampires of Santa Carla prayed on the younger of their own kind, and not rarely, when human blood lacked, even the ones that weren’t so weak. If the vampires of Santa Carla did it all the time, Caim supposed, other branch of vampires would do it too.

“ Is not as if you can kill me by doing so, right?” Taking another drag of his cigar, he chuckled amusedly even though not knowing if the aspect of immortality applied to a strange being like him in that situation.

@virilitas

open to males / william is vers - bottom leaning, if smut. william is a vampire who has not fed on human blood in a long time, and it's damaging him. your muse offers their blood to him.

" you don't understand what you are offering. " william says hoarsely, before spitting out another blob of congealed liquid on the porcelain sink, as dark as tar with a faint metallic smell of dried blood. old blood ... the one he hunted and drank years ago.

perhaps he was being stupid. another vampire would have accepted their offer without a second thought. they would have indulged and feasted like kings on a banquet. until they are satiated and full, then lay in wait for their next hunt. never mind what would happen to their victim, or the one who offered. they would die, or they would turn. he's not even sure which fate is worse.

he promised he will never be that a long time ago. " just go. i will let this pass. the need will pass. " he continues. yes, it will pass, but the hunger will not. and that would poison him in the days to come. " just ... leave me. "