#vampire and human alike go to visit it

[nateezfics]

he looks so vampy in these photos;; i’m so in love

[gojhoes]

"don't feed it"

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, tw: self-harm, blood (duh), actual literal kidnapping contents: gojo x fem!reader, vampire au, college au, no curse au, yan!gojo, possession, dubcon, s/m, p-in-v, soft dom gojo, coercion, reader is kinda dumb, pining, subjugation, praise, gojo is more tame bc he’s dead, obsession, stalking wc: 6.1k part 1

"...for the blood is the life, and thou mayest not eat the life with the flesh." deuteronomy 12:23

many and more years ago, satoru gojo died just a few days before the turn of the century. the fine details of his demise were lost on him now, as were so many memories he'd once held during his waking life.

cursed.

at first, he'd believed he was a ghost; an unsettled soul which fluttered unseen among the living. but no– women smiled sweetly at him on the street and men tipped their hats as he walked on by.

damned.

it was an adjustment at first. the earliest years were the hardest, spent mostly alone as the new sensation of thirst consumed his every moment. the night's children needn't to sleep or eat, and he could no longer stand to be in the presence of people. he had become something savage, more alike that of an animal than a person. he fed without care and developed a blatant disrespect for life, exercising no caution in the event of concealment.

cold.

an incident occurred in which he was the culprit caught the attention of a prominent cohort, introducing satoru to an entire society of the damned. it was then that he met suguru, who, despite his fate, held true to a certain standard of morals in which he preached to others. satoru kept quiet about his disagreement, choosing to view suguru as a friend and a mentor.

dead.

satoru began to linger around every corner you might pass– anything to get close enough for a taste of your scent. he loved watching the way you moved, how you'd wear your hair up off your neck now that it was getting warmer. most of all, though, he loved watching over you while you slept. you were so oblivious, so vulnerable, so alive, and satoru's obsession had come alight in full.

suguru was lounging in the sitting room, looking as ethereal as ever what with his long hair and billowing robes. a boy likely no older than seventeen sat perched on the arm of his chair, though satoru paid him little mind. his face was sallow, undereye painted red-purple– the telltale appearance of a human subjugate.

"what a surprise," said suguru, flashing a white-teethed smile. "you look troubled."

troubled? no. confused? slightly. "hello, suguru. new friend?"

the other man shrugged, his eyes raking over the boy in a way that made satoru cringe inwardly. "he's pretty, no?"

the purpose of this visit was the get advice about you, not breathe more life into a pointless debate between the two friends. satoru believed suffering shouldn't be prolonged in the way it was with subjugates, though suguru would swear up and down it was the way to go. since meeting him, satoru had seen the other go through what seemed like hundreds of them.

"finally coming around?" suguru asked, arching a dark brow. "i've been telling you for years, satoru. there is nothing quite like the devotion and the-"

satoru cut him off with an irritated sigh. "yes, yes, i know you love your playthings, but it's not like that."

the boy didn't respond to the dig; a subjugate responded only to their master. it was chilling to witness, even for satoru.

suguru scoffed. "what could you possibly have to gain from it, then?"

it wasn't a matter of winning or losing, but that mentality would be lost on someone like his friend. satoru's goal wasn't to make you into a mindless slave– he wanted to hold you, protect you, and make you his. it was an unconscious and irresistible desire to keep you by his side forever. it must have been written all over his face judging from a shake of his friend's head.

"don't be a fool, satoru," said suguru, his voice full of lazy chastisement. "this will only end one way."

satoru rolled his eyes, taking no heed to the other's comment as usual. "am i wrong to assume that you might be jealous?"

suguru pulled the boy in closer, brushing away his hair to expose the smooth skin of the subjugate's neck. "don't you have somewhere to be?"

satoru resisted the urge to make a gagging noise as he watched suguru snatch the boy's head back, and turned on his heel to exit the room. he did have somewhere to be– a date with you.

it didn't take long for satoru to find you. an innate magnetism made it easy now that he'd learned your patterns and grown used to your scent. tonight was a rare one in that you were off from work. satoru peered through your apartment window, watching as you and your friend fluttered about inside. after a few minutes, he heard you ask if she was ready to leave, and quickly melted into the shadows before either of you would be able to spot him.

the bond between you was predetermined by fate, which is why you were so sure that you'd seen him before. your soul was tied to him whether you knew it or not, though you would soon figure out why. nothing would ever be able to stop him from wanting you, from needing you.

he followed far enough behind to avoid being seen until you disappeared inside a crowded bar trailed by your friend. satoru cursed her silently; there was always something or someone keeping you away from him. he supposed that he could kill her, but he'd rather die all over again than risk making you sad. so, he waited. he'd waited a century– what was another hour or two?

eventually, there you were, stumbling out the door with your brown-haired friend's arm wrapped around your waist. that familiar twinge in his chest pulled at him as it did every time he saw you, the one that billowed from the dangerous temptation to take you. he heard you laugh at something she said, and pure jealousy surged through him. who was this girl touching you like that? making you laugh? getting you piss-drunk? just how close were the two of you?

satoru dug his nails into his palms as his will began to waver. he watched as your friend guided you to the edge of the sidewalk before she turned around to answer a phone call. your friend paid no mind as you swayed and fought to stay upright against your intoxication. she didn't notice when you stumbled forward into the street, nor when satoru materialized from the shadows and reached to pull you by the arm just before a speeding car flattened you.

you gasped as his arm circled your waist, steadying yourself with your hands on his chest. the terror on your face melted into a smile and recognition bloomed in your eyes; it would've softened his anger had your friend not yelled at him right after.

"hey!" satoru whirled around and glared down at the perpetrator. "what the hell are you doing?"

you were pitifully limp in his grasp– how much did you drink tonight? never would he have ever let you be so careless, nor would he have abandoned you when you were so clearly out of it.

"she's coming with me," said satoru through gritted teeth. he had half a mind to cut her down right then, damn the consequences, but you were more important.

your friend opened her mouth to protest, but with a tilt of his head and a flash of his eyes, she choked on her words. she only swallowed and nodded before satoru turned and began leading you down the street toward his home.

***

you were in an unfamiliar room when you woke, tucked into a bed that wasn't yours. your body felt heavy as you struggled to sit upright, stripping off the covers to expose yourself to the frigid air. the only memory you possessed from the night before was shoko handing you another drink, and then... satoru, with his arms around you as you stumbled away from the bar.

how strange. maybe he'd been there with someone and you just happened to run into each other; it was a small college town. as your mind began to clear, you noticed that the clothes on your body were not the ones you'd worn last night. on the nightstand was a glass of water and what looked like tea sandwiches, but not your phone. no purse, no phone, no keys, nothing of what you'd brought to the bar was in your possession.

you surveyed the room in search of anything you might recognize or that might trigger a memory, but there was nothing. you saw that the only light was coming from a small, rectangular window near the ceiling and with the dampness of the air, you knew you'd been brought to a basement. you sprung from the bed and soared toward the bedroom door, sickening fear and dread bursting from the pit of your stomach as panic began to set in.

"hello?" you called out. your voice echoed unanswered throughout the room, working only to further raise your concern.

you reached to twist the doorknob, but it didn't budge, and it was then that your composure began to dismantle.

you pounded on the door, frantic as you cried out, "hey! what the hell is going on?! satoru!!"

this couldn't be happening, not to you. sure, kidnappings happened all the time, but never did you imagine that this nightmare would be plaguing you. did satoru drug you? were you even with him? where the fuck was he? had he left you here to die, now that he'd had his fill? your chest rose and fell rapidly as your breaths grew more labored.

a ravaged scream tore from your lungs. you weren't quite sure when it stopped, but your throat burned, raw and silenced as you let your body slump onto the floor with defeat.

you were unsure of how much time had passed when the door finally swung open to reveal satoru's tall frame. the sound made you flinch bodily as he stepped over the threshold with a smile on his face. you jumped to your feet with half a mind to sprint past him to freedom, but it was futile. instinctively, though, you inched backward from the angel of death who'd come to whisk you away at last.

he looked the same as he had the last times you'd seen him, smiling kindly while moving to close the space you were desperately working to maintain. never would you have imagined he was a sick bastard who locked people in his basement. he was so handsome, so normal, maybe a little quirky, but he'd been so nice to you...

"don't be frightened," satoru said gently. "it's all right."

your body trembled as the backs of your knees made contact with the bed. "what are you doing?" your voice was scarce more than a rasp, weak even to your own ears.

he had pulled the door behind him, sealing off your only possible escape route. you noticed then a large volume tucked under his arm which he moved to lay gingerly on the bedside table. an easy expression painted his features as he regarded you with a tilt of his head, making the white hair fall into his face.

"i'm sorry i took so long." he spoke as though this was a casual conversation, like this was normal and you weren't being held hostage in a locked room.

"why are you doing this to me?" the first of many tears began to trickle down your face.

he surged forward from across the room so quickly that you started. your body tensed, still shaking as satoru stared at you with wide, inquisitive eyes. he brought his hand to your face to cup your cheek and you shivered beneath his touch.

"and what is it that i am doing?" he whispered.

you should've felt disgusted, should've kicked him or bit him while you had him so close, but your survival instinct went quiet the moment his fingers touched your skin.

you choked on your words, tears blurring your vision. "y-you, you're- you've taken me. i don't understand."

his body was solid, unmoving with his arms caging you in an inescapable hug. "hush, now, i'm not going to hurt you. you were extremely drunk and your friend left you out on the street. i wasn't going to leave you there."

"then why did you lock me in here?"

satoru's eyes flashed but he didn't miss a beat. "i live in a bad neighborhood."

you wanted to believe him; in fact, you almost did. there was such conviction in his voice, such kindness and surety that it all suddenly made sense. he knew you'd panic. he was trying to keep you safe until he got back– it made perfect sense... almost.

"where's my stuff?" you asked. "i need my phone, shoko's probably worried-"

satoru's grip on you tightened and you let out a gasp. "you dropped it on the sidewalk and it broke. there are no outlets in here so it's charging in my room but i don't think it's going to work."

your mouth hung open as you tried to come up with a response, but it was like your brain had been shut off. you believed him, felt yourself begin to relax and submit despite some small part of you still screaming to fight. he laid his hand on your cheek again and smiled.

"i'll be back later tonight," he murmured, then gestured toward the nightstand. "now, read up. i've circled my favorite passages."

satoru turned and began to move toward the door, and your mind started to work again with the realization that he was still leaving you here. you raced forward and fell into him, taking him by surprise. you fisted your hands into the fabric of his shirt as desperate words spilled. "wait, please, please let me go. i swear i won't tell anyone, just let me go-"

in a flash, he whirled around and his large hands were circling your wrists firmly as he regarded you with a pointed look. "i can't do that. you're completely safe here. no one can hurt you now."

you let out a choked sob as he released you. how could you possibly be safe when he was literally holding you hostage? you watched, numb, as the door closed, and with it, you sank to the floor and sobbed.

***

at least the bed's comfortable, you thought, then immediately wondered if you were experiencing the beginning of Stockholm syndrome. if satoru wanted you dead, he'd have killed you a while ago. if he wanted to... use you, wouldn't he have done it by now? the speculation was making you crazy; you kept wishing he'd come back, explain himself, let you go home.

you eyed the worn volume sitting on the nightstand. upon first glance, you might've mistaken it for a holy word, but no. the book seemed to be calling you, saying read me, look at me... maybe you were starting to go insane.

several of the book's pages had been marked with small, brightly colored sticky tabs. you sighed- it wasn't like you had anything else to do. you plucked it off the table and traced your finger over the title printed in gold lettering. the night's children.

you flipped to the first tab and peered over the words.

a rare phenomenon known as rebirth can occur under the right conditions. however, these beings are not as uncommon as one might think. give or take a few poignant qualities, they appear to be just as human as they were during waking life.

waking life? beings?

the night children are not ghosts, as they have no soul. human niceties and morals are no longer relevant, and it is in their nature to possess little to no regard for life.

they do not suffer hunger or exhaustion. all five senses are remarkably heightened, particularly that of sight, smell, and sound.

common characteristics include near-translucent pallor even in the deepest of complexions, unrivaled beauty, undeniable charm, and an affinity for living in the night, given their name.

all of those descriptors matched satoru to a tee, and as you read on, your despair continued only to grow.

their most marked feature, however, is needlelike teeth which replace the ones known as canines. they are razor-sharp, used to pierce through flesh. upon first contact, it causes a euphoric sensation for their victim as they feed.

you should’ve stopped reading. you should’ve pounded on the door until the wood splintered or started searching for something to pick the lock with. it was as though another brain had taken hold of your body, responding on an instinct you couldn't decipher. you flipped to the next tab to see a page titled subjugates.

some night children may have numerous human subjugates if they so choose. these humans are uncannily attractive and stay devoted to their master or mistress for life, under a spell-like adoration. they feed on their subjugate whenever they please and follow them until they either die or are reborn themselves.

is that what this was? was satoru going to keep you as his… pet? to “feed” on you? it was sickening, absolutely dreadful, and yet, a raw curiosity urged you to read on to the next page.

mates are usually taken among these beings, though not always. mates are most commonly nonhuman, and these pairings often lead to dangerous conflicts, an intense battle of wills.

in some cases, however, a human mate will be taken, though it is unlike subjugation. once discovered, the night child is incapable of separating that tie- it becomes as necessary as feeding. it is characterized by intense obsession, lust, control, and possession…

you slammed the book shut and threw it on the bed as though it was a snake rather than a collection of pages. your chest was heaving as the information settled in. otherworldly beauty, soullessness, the confinement– satoru had found you, and if what you'd read was true, there was no way you would escape. you would die here, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you surveyed the room in a frenzy for something sharp or pointed, but it seemed that satoru had planned for everything. you were no match for someone who’d been around for much longer than you could fathom.

you dug your nails into the thin skin of your wrist, raking them downward while clenching your jaw from the pain, but this was the only option. your goal was to make it deep enough to cut through the flesh and draw as much blood as possible. if enough spilled, wouldn’t satoru come to find you and lose control? you had no choice but to keep scratching and scratching until the blood began to drip onto the floor. it was either death or an eternity of captivity.

the door busted open with a bang and there was satoru, eyes wide and pupils blown with the realization of what you were doing. your gazes met, and a beat later, you were being held up against the wall as the breath left your lungs.

“what are you doing?” his grip was iron, long fingers gripping right on your self-inflicted wounds, but you hardly felt it under the guise of your fear. his beautiful features were twisted with unbridled anger, and you realized then that you were crying again, hot tears blurring your vision and streaming down your cheeks.

“i don’t want this!” you cried pathetically. “i just want to go home, please just let me go.”

satoru’s grip didn’t waver as he regarded you with a sad expression, though you doubted he held any remorse. they have no soul. “you know i can’t do that.”

you began to sob uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut as any remaining semblance of hope was sapped from your being. there was no way he’d let you alone now. so quickly your life had become an object that no longer belonged to you.

then there was a cold hand on the side of your face, a gentle thumb brushing away your persistent tears. your eyes flew open to glimpse satoru’s kind smile, so out of place now that you knew of his… affliction.

“you’re gonna kill me,” you whimpered, staring up into his eyes desperately. “why me?”

he cocked his head to the side. "you’re a smart girl. haven’t you figured it out yet?"

your hands were shaking. your blood was trickling over his fingers, but he hardly seemed to notice as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, making you shiver despite yourself. his lips grazed over your collarbone, and you unconsciously leaned into him.

“i can make it better,” he whispered. “let me make it better.”

he didn’t have a smell, you realized. not of sweat, nor of laundry detergent or shampoo. his hands were so cold circled round your wrists, but all you felt was heat as his lips ghosted over your pulse point. how had you not noticed it before?

“i am not, and have never been, one to deny myself of my desires,” satoru went on. “you are so beautiful, so much so that upon first glance, i thought you were like me. but then i got a taste of your scent... this perfect compatibility happens only once in a millennia. i never searched for it, never thought i could be deserving, but here you are, blessing me.”

you had no choice, completely immobile in his grip– helpless prey pinned down at last, silently wondering how he could possibly make it better. satoru's lips pressed to your cheek, to your jaw, then to your neck. "hold still, 'kay?"

there was no time even to gasp when you felt the briefest of stings over your pulse point. you'd expected hot, excruciating pain, but you were met with quite the opposite. all other thoughts left your mind as pure ecstasy flowed through your body; all you could think and feel was satoru as you went limp against him.

it was as though you'd be reborn in rays of sunlight and pleasure. the truth had been set before you; this was a blessing, you realized– all satoru wanted was to protect you, to care for you in a way no one else would ever be capable of. whether you'd known it or not, you were his– you'd always been his. that's why you were so drawn to him and why he looked so familiar. it was the most intimate moment you'd experienced in your entire life, an offering to him of your heart and soul.

it was like you've known him your whole life.

"better?" he asked against your neck. you could feel his tongue sliding all over your skin, likely lapping up any of the remaining blood that had escaped. it felt like heaven, and you wondered how satoru could possibly be damned if he could make you feel like this.

your only complaint was that there wasn't more for him to take. you'd give it all to him, give him everything without hesitation, but something told you that satoru would never do it. he saw you as his, someone to keep safe and to hold until the end of time.

you relaxed against him, so overcome with pleasure and bliss that you had to let him hold you upright. "don't stop," you whined. "please, please, satoru, i-"

"shh, it's okay," said satoru. he cradled your head with one hand, urging you to look into his eyes. "any more and it'll be too much for you."

it was not the answer you wanted to hear. you wanted him to take more– you wanted to feel that euphoria and the submissive weightlessness he'd just bestowed upon you. you were stronger than he knew; you could take it, you just had to show him.

"no, i can do it, just keep going-"

satoru pulled away from you, dropping his hands from around your head. you were close to tears from how sad the separation made you. it was unreal– you wondered how it felt for him. satoru's pale cheeks were slightly flushed with your blood as he licked his lips clean.

the feeling of an orgasm, of post-run endorphins, of a blissed-out high– none of those descriptions came close to the pleasure he'd just given you. you couldn't believe you'd once had the nerve to refuse him. when before you'd been terrified, it was now clear; you belonged here, belonged to him.

you looked up at him through your lashes, inconsolable. you were begging shamelessly at this point as your body throbbed with desire. "i need more."

satoru hummed and brought your marred wrist to his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut. “i’d hate for this to go to waste.” his tongue trailed over the soft skin, lapping up every drop as his features softened in pleasure. he was so beautiful like that, and a sense of pride surged through you when you realized you were the only one who'd ever get to see him in this light.

when your arm was clean and clotted, he guided your hand down to his waistband, lower, placing your palm on top of the firm bulge. “you feel that? no one’s done that to me in decades."

a strangled sound escaped from your throat, a cross between a cry and a moan. he was entirely intoxicating, and all you wanted was to feel him closer. you were overcome with lust, so eager to please as you arched up into him. you'd been with other people before but that was naught but a memory as his hands flew to your hips and he urged you impossibly closer.

kissing satoru felt like drowning in a bath of heat. his lips moved hungrily over yours as though you'd personally been starving him for years. he was cold beneath your touch but the way his body responded to you sparked heat between the two of you.

suddenly, it wasn't enough. your voice had become scarce more than a whine. "satoru."

he dragged a hand from your collarbone, sliding over your breast, your side, your hip, resting just below your navel. chills overtook your senses; his slender fingers were spikes of ice on your skin as he took his time bunching up your shirt– likely, his shirt, and sliding it off your arms. goosebumps erupted all over as your bare breasts adjusted to the cold air.

amusement flashed in satoru's eyes as though he was in on some secret joke. "you're cold."

a second later, your back was hitting the mattress, and his arms were caging you in as he looked down at you. the lust in his eyes was intense, primal, possessive. you slipped your hands beneath the hem of his top, running them over the smooth, chilled skin of his muscled back, and he hissed between his teeth. the sound sparked a throbbing between your legs and your blood was roaring in your ears.

nothing would ever compare to the bliss of him feeding on you, but it seemed as though he was making it his mission to give you the next best thing. satoru lips trailed over your exposed skin, leaving kisses down your sternum, over your abdomen, down, down until he stopped just before his mouth reached your hips. you watched in anticipation, and when those bright blue eyes met yours, they were filled with an otherworldly fascination.

your throbbing clit was begging for relief, for even the lightest of pressure but you were completely at satoru's will, and you didn't dare ask for anything. he smiled at you before shifting his gaze to your naked cunt, and you threw your head back onto the mattress, suddenly too overwhelmed to look at him any longer. his hands were on your thighs, pulling them apart before his mouth finally made contact with your clit.

you gasped, your hips jolting toward the ceiling from the sensation. as if you didn't already feel like his prey, he began to feast on your pussy with expertise that could only be gained from thorough knowledge of a woman's body. pleasure flowed from the follicles of your hair to the tips of your toes with each swirl of his tongue over your sensitive bud. he was careful, almost timid, as if he was afraid of hurting you or scaring you, but that lasted for only a moment.

satoru's mouth disappeared and instantly, you looked down in confusion to see why he might've stopped. but he was grinning, obviously self-satisfied as he asked, "is this what you like?"

you nodded, perhaps more fervently than necessary, but instantly his tongue was back on your clit and you moaned, fisting the quilt as you tried to grind into him further. then you felt his finger slipping inside and curling as he filled you to his knuckles. your mouth fell open as he found a perfect rhythm, teasing at your sweet spot while simultaneously working your clit.

he touched you like he owned you, as though you'd been his for years and he'd learned every inch of your body and how to make you cry out. it wouldn't take much more to have you spilling over the edge, and you almost told him as much, but suddenly you were staring into his eyes and he was looking down at you with hunger.

as soon as his legs were bent on either side of your own, he brought his face down to yours. his lips were shining with your slick and he kissed you, hard, hot and desperate despite the chill of his body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. he groaned, filling your mouth with your own taste and it was then that you realized he was starting to lose control.

"when's the last time someone touched you?" you asked, suddenly curious. you wanted to know every last detail of his life, from his family to what he did in his spare time to whether he had to brush his teeth. you returned his desire to consume you tenfold.

satoru chuckled as he seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "don't worry about that, now. just let me have you– please." the words were saccharine on his tongue, and you realized then just how deadly someone like him could be. satoru was beautiful, charming, absolutely intoxicating and irresistible; no person in their right mind could possibly refuse him.

satoru's lips grazed the shell of your ear and you shivered bodily when you felt his teeth catch your lobe gently. the restraint this man must've had to exercise was downright absurd, but when he spoke, your mind went somewhere altogether different. "are you a virgin?"

you shook your head, a sudden burst of fear cutting through the haze of your desire. you wondered what he might think of your answer but you didn't want to lie– in fact, it seemed that you were incapable of it.

"good."

he slid into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. you whined loudly; the stretch was so painful yet so pleasurable, and satoru groaned, "put your hands on me. promise it'll help." his words were commands, yet the timbre of his voice was like a prayer, as if he was this close to begging.

and he was right; your hands clung to his shoulders and somehow, it made you feel safe even if you were completely at his mercy. you'd been with men before but you'd never had anyone this big. it nearly felt like you were being split in half, but the intimacy of it all, of him holding you through the pain, was almost as good as his teeth piercing your neck.

his lips brushed over your pulse as he spoke, voice low, "that's good. you're so warm."

the feeling of his lips ghosting the delicate skin of your neck made you lose your mind. your body responded to him without awareness, already addicted to his expression of thirst for your blood. your cunt tightened around him unconsciously, sucking him in as though your body was afraid to lose his cock. you needed-

"more," you cried. "please."

satoru hummed, amused. "you're ravenous." but he obliged you, pulling out until only the tip of his cock was teasing your entrance. you'd never been this needy before, as though your body now required his touch to survive.

his hips snapped into yours, burying himself so deep that your vision blurred. his pace was brutal, unrelenting as his tip nudged into your cervix with every stroke. you were so full, and when his thumb brushed over your clit, your whole body jolted beneath him.

"don't forget to breathe," he teased, looking down at you with an easy smile. how pathetic you must've seemed to him, how human you were compared to him. he wouldn't tell you this until another night, but he loved how delicate and pliable you were. part of his obsession was due to how different you were from him. he didn't need a reminder to breathe, to rest, to drink water, to listen to his body. his body had only two needs: his thirst and you.

you gave into satoru completely. a particularly hard thrust made you whimper and dig your nails into his back with a ferocity you didn't know you had. satoru grunted and captured your lips with his own again, exploring your mouth with his tongue not unlike how he'd done with your clit.

"that's it," he said. he leaned down, pressing his chest flat to yours so that his lips could capture your own once more. it was wet and messy, your tongues sliding over each other's as you moaned into his mouth. the pleasure was your undoing.

you felt a sharp sting when his teeth pulled at your lower lip, quickly soothed by a wet swipe of his tongue. you yelped loudly, tasting your own blood mixed with saliva and he moaned. your walls clenched, the pace on your clit was too perfect, the pain was sickening and you could barely breathe.

"ahh, satoru, 'm gonna-" oh, you were so pathetic at this point, completely bent to satoru's will, but it felt so right. it was divine, heavenly, nothing else mattered and would never matter to you again. his voice was steady and even, such a vast contrast to your gasping and whimpering, but there was a wicked grin on his lips as he watched you come undone.

"don't fight," he instructed. "i need to feel you."

your fingers gripped onto his soft white locks for dear life as your body convulsed uncontrollably, your orgasm tearing through you mercilessly. he kept fucking you, his two fingers bullying your clit the whole way through despite your begging him to stop. it felt so good it burned. tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you clung to him pathetically. you were just beginning to get yourself together when his thrusts grew impossibly fast and careless, and you watched starry-eyed as his mouth fell open, moaning just as pathetically. he looked human when he came, fucking perfect and beautiful with your name in his mouth.

you stayed like that for a few moments, pinned underneath him while you caught your breath and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. satoru gently pulled out, leaving you empty and cold as he settled himself beside you on the bed. your heart caved in, and you looked at him with complete adoration. his face was already returning to its pale complexion, you noticed with remorse.

"do you want more?" he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

you gaped at him. "more? i don't know if i can."

"well, i could do it forever, you know." was he bragging?

satoru kissed the top of your head stroked your hair as he pulled you into his bare chest, slithering an arm around your shoulders. "hush, now. you need your rest."

he drew the covers over your body, which felt so heavy now that the high had begun to wane.

"you're mine now," he whispered, pressing another light kiss to your temple. "do you understand?"

already, your body craved more– more of him, of the sweet feeling of him sucking on your neck. the addict's mindset suddenly became clear as you gingerly touched your pulse point. you felt where he'd sunk his teeth in and your mind clouded over with blissful submission.

the words spilled out of your mouth before you were aware enough to stop. "i love you."

satoru smiled, his perfect teeth stained red. you swore you saw his eyes light up in a way that seemed... human.

"you're mine," he repeated softly. "all mine, and i'm yours."

you hummed contentedly as you felt sleep begin to take you. "all mine." you weren't going to miss a single bit of your old life; satoru was going to keep you forever.

and you couldn't wait to finish that book.

@galagarts @monsieurgucchi @njutul @gojoscumslut thank u for reading <3 (i didn't edit this)

[princessanonymous]

Of Trials- Part 2/3 (Ask)

Platonic Yandere Vampire

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Story Chapter list

Finally another one posted! Y'all, I'm a slow updater,but you best believe I'll update nonetheless. Better late than never. XD

As I said last time, this is from an ask someone sent to me privatly. Once again, you'll need to read the main story, When Night Comes (Linked aboved) to understand this. :)

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Immortal Children were children who had been turned into vampires at a far too young age.  These children, once transformed, became uncontrollable beings, driven by impulses they could not yet understand or manage. Their beauty was unmatched; they were truly irresistible beings fated to remain untouched by the sands of time. Their physical perfection was a double-edged sword, enchanting and deadly in equal measure.

With red eyes that shone like bright fire and smiles that retained an eerie innocence, Immortal Children possessed an almost angelic appearance. This innocent facade belied the dark reality of their existence. Despite their sweet appearance, they carried the same capacity for horrific violence every other vampire had. Their enchanting smiles masked the bloodshed and destruction they were capable of. The problem lay in their inability to control their impulses and the immense danger they posed to both humans and vampires alike. Immortal Children brought chaos wherever they went, leaving a trail of death and suspicion that threatened the secrecy of the vampiric community. Their very existence was a cause of disaster, as their actions could not be predicted or controlled.

The creation of an Immortal Child was considered a crime of the highest order within the vampire world, a transgression with severe penalties for both the sire and the fledgling. It was seen as a reckless act, bringing risks that outweigh the benefits. A crime Dorian had now been accused of.

"We can leave," Killian suggested, pacing around the room frantically. So frantically, in fact, that he didn't notice when his feet reached the wall, and he began to walk up it. Had Dorian not been so preoccupied, he would have commented on the impropriety of such behavior. "You always said you wished to visit Japan again; we should go. I'm sure (Y/n) would find it lovely.”

Dorian wanted to pull his own hair out in frustration. "They will find us," he promised. He was sure of that. "And when they do, no trial shall be held and we will both be made to burn under the deadly sun. You might suffer the same fate, for helping us."

Killian stopped and turned to face Dorian, standing upside down on the ceiling with a look of incredulity. "So you want us to wait until they come to take you both? Have you lost your mind?"

Dorian's eyes burned with a mix of fear and resolve. "I haven't lost my mind, Killian. I'm trying to protect us. Running would only delay the inevitable and draw more suspicion. They have eyes everywhere. Leaving now would be a death sentence."

"So you will let her die?" Killian demanded in outrage. "You turned her, and I won’t allow you to do that to her." Killian had grown to care deeply for (Y/n), just as much as Dorian did. It had taken some time, but he had come to take on a more important role, that of a second father to her.

"Oh, don't you dare accuse me of that!" Dorian's eyes flashed with anger, his voice rising defensively.

"You created this problem!" Killian bit back, pointing a finger at Dorian. "(Y/n) could have had a perfect, happy, and fulfilling life without your interference."

"She would be dead!" Dorian screamed at him, his voice cracking with the intensity of his emotions. "Dead and rotting in the ground, eaten by maggots, larvae, and any other pests wanting a piece of her!"

Killian recoiled slightly, the rawness of Dorian's words hitting him hard. But he quickly composed himself, his own emotions bubbling to the surface. "And instead, she’s trapped in this cursed existence. Is that really any better?"

Dorian's eyes blazed with a mixture of rage and desperation. "I couldn’t just let her go! You don’t understand, when I looked at her for the first time, I just… I just knew she would complete us. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing while she slipped away.”

Then, there was a knock at the door, and they paused, their argument abruptly silenced. Dorian took a deep breath and called out sweetly, "What is it, starshine?" He wondered how long the girl had been standing behind the door, listening to their heated exchange.

The door slowly creaked open, and the girl who was the subject of their worries stepped in. Her red eyes gleamed with an innocence that belied the turmoil surrounding her. She looked between Dorian and Killian, sensing the tension in the room.She had her face scrunched up in an adorable mou that drew a smile on his own face.

"Was it a nightmare?" Asked his now calmer partner.

She shook her head looking frustrated. "You're arguing more than usual.”

Killian agreed with her, sending her an apologetic look. “We apologize, dear. Your father and I have been terribly preoccupied recently.”

"Because of that lady?" she probed further, her keen intelligence shining through.

Dorian shook his head, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "Why don’t I take you back to your room?" he suggested gently.

"I don’t like her," (Y/n) said, clutching the hem of her nightgown, “She was awfully unpleasant. I don't want to see her again."

Dorian smiled weakly at her, feeling a pang of guilt for having brought her such distress. He planted a gentle kiss on her head. "That is alright. You won’t," he assured her softly.

He walked her to her room in silence, aware that she sensed his restlessness. They had tried to curb her habit of sensing the emotions of everyone around her, but their efforts had never worked. Over time, they had grown accustomed to this small breach of privacy, deciding to simply try to keep their emotions in check, knowing that she was affected by strong emotions. By the way she clutched his hand, trembling slightly, he knew their attempts hadn't quite succeeded.

"I can feel how scared you are," she whispered. "It makes me scared too." 

Dorian's heart ached at her words. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. The weight of his emotions was heavy, but he forced himself to remain composed for her sake. As they reached her room, he opened the door, intending to tuck her into her coffin.

But as the door swung open, the metallic scent of blood assaulted his senses, pulling him abruptly back to reality. His only reaction was to raise his eyebrows as he took in the scene before him: a woman's body lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless and drenched in blood. Despite the horror of the sight, a strange sense of resignation settled over him. He felt an astounding lack of surprise as he gazed at the corpse on the floor.

"(Y/n)," Dorian breathed out in defeat, his voice heavy with a mix of relief and frustration.

"Mayella cut herself while cooking today," (Y/n) explained with a shrug as she walked over to the corpse, completely unfazed by the sight. She plopped herself down on her coffin, swinging her legs casually. "I kissed the hurt goodbye."

"Starshine," he began, struggling to keep his voice calm, "you can't just—"

But as he looked into her innocent eyes, he felt his throat close up with a mixture of frustration and despair. It seemed they had tried to teach her better self-control, but it never seemed to stick. Feeding was always at the forefront of her mind, even after she had eaten only a few hours ago.

He looked at her tenderly and laughed wetly.  "You did well," he whispered, hoping she didn't notice the despair that overtook him.

[merakiui]

Kawjwjdhjdbdj…. Halloween Twst…

Any thoughts on the dorm’s costumes serving as plot inspirations? Like wandering spirit!Heartslabyul taking you as a live sacrifice but instead of killing you like you thought they take you as a breeding toy <3

OHHHH to be a breeding toy for spooky Heartslabyul lads..... orz if I remember correctly, they're something like gravediggers, yes? Can you imagine in a Victorian setting your lover dies young and while attending their burial you catch sight of strangely dressed men out of the corner of your eye!!! You see them each time you go to visit your lover's grave and leave a fresh bouquet because, for some odd reason, the flowers wither much too quickly. By the sixth visit, you're certain you're being stalked because you keep seeing them. First it's a pair with orange and navy hair. Then it's another much taller man with orange hair. Then a man with green hair. By the end of the week, you encounter a short man with red hair and he's the first of the lot to approach you. You're never seen or heard from again after that. :) (but it's okay because you're spending your afterlife getting railed all the time!!! Everyone wins!)

Or being the captive royal the Savanaclaw pirates have kidnapped from the kingdom in hopes of holding you for ransom. >:) but of course Jack gets too attached to you right away; he's just trying to help you and he promises that, as much as he doesn't agree with Leona's method of doing things, he himself won't hurt you. Jack's an honest pirate...who is now too attached to give you up when the kingdom's willing to pay the amount in order to have you back safe and sound. Ruggie's no different either. At first you were annoying and troublesome when you struggled and tried escaping, but he's grown to like you. Much like Jack, he isn't willing to give you up, not even for the ransom. Instead, he can make a pretty Madol selling the extravagant clothes you're wearing. :) Leona won't complain. You'd look much nicer in one of his shirts or in nothing at all. <3

Or Octavinelle being failed experiments of yours who you were trying to turn human after catching them in your fishing nets. Now they're something of an abomination who you've wrapped tight in plenty of bandages and harnesses to keep limbs and skin from rotting off. Though they once hated you for meddling with their natural biology, they've grown terribly affectionate in the time they've spent with you, obsessively so. In return, you have to allow them to try to turn you into a mer. It's only fair they get to mess with your anatomy after you've done the same to them.

Or maybe you're a beast hunter looking to claim the bounty on a certain werewolf's head! >:) Kalim isn't very elusive; it's Jamil who makes sure he keeps out of the eyes of humans and hunters alike. When you step into their territory, it's Jamil who swiftly captures you. For attempting to take Kalim's life, you'll pay for it with your own...or so Jamil tells you before Kalim laughs the threat away and tells him he ought to be kinder to the guest. Kalim grows to adore you even if you were originally here to kill him. And if you're capable of having pups, he might just have to knock you up to keep you here permanently. Jamil finds he quite likes the idea of forcing domesticity on you, and if you're so heavily pregnant with his pups you won't be able to escape. >:)

Or being trapped in a marriage with vampire king Vil!!!! Maybe you're a stubborn human who refuses to be turned into a vampire and so it's Rook who takes care in preparing your meals. You're served lots of meat-based dishes because Rook is a skilled hunter. If he's not hunting with his bare hands, he's raising his bow and piercing creatures with a precise arrow. Epel provides you with companionship when Vil becomes too frustrated to stand you. He tries convincing you to just let Vil turn you; it'll be much easier for everyone if you just submit to your fate. Of course Epel's still nowhere near as ancient as Vil or Rook, and so he can often be swept up in immature whims, especially when the scent of your blood is so very tempting to a hungry vampire like him...

Headless horseman Idia is still so babygirl... he's scary when he's chasing you on horseback, but then you take the pumpkin head off his suit of armor and you meet the babygirl within!!! <3 You're the first human who is daring enough to look him in the eyes (and also not run in fear from him after seeing his face), and he likes how warm and kind you are, even if he tries to insist that humans are so lame and he'd never want the companionship of one. But he's been lonely for too long and you were so willing to befriend him. Maybe he should just keep you for himself forever...

They say a frightening horned creature dwells deep within the mountains. In order to avoid incurring its wrath, the village offers you as the annual sacrifice. You prepare yourself for death, but it turns out that it isn't just one long. It's a group of them, all living together in a very big cave. Almost like a family... Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver all fall for you in their own ways. You're so precious and sweet, and eventually you realize they aren't the feared monsters the village portrayed them as. They're actually quite nice to you when they're slyly vilifying humans in order to get you to stay and trust them for all of eternity. :)

[scuttling]

I Can Handle Me A Dangerous Man - Ch 3

Fandom: True Blood (TV) Pairings: Eric Northman/Female Reader or Eric Northman/OFC Word Count: 4,323 Tags: 18+, NSFW in later chapters, it's gonna get real nasty, Canon blood and gore Summary: Sookie's cousin returns to Bon Temps, and Eric wants her... to work for him.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

A week later, she gets her first call from Fangtasia—but it’s Eric's colleague Pam, not Eric, who makes the call. She says it’s urgent, but that she can’t give any details, so Cam throws on a pair of jeans and boots, a black high-neck tank, and drives to the bar. When she gets out of her car, Eric is standing there, waiting in the parking lot. 

“Camila. Come with me,” he murmurs, taking her arm; instead of guiding her toward the front door, his long legs head for the sidewalk, and he walks her down the block—away from the bar and, she guesses, prying vampire ears.

“What’s going on?” she whispers, curious, and he moves his hand to her back casually, like he’s hoping they’ll look more like any couple walking down the street and less like he’s abducted her or something. He leans in so she can hear him better.

“There is a group of nomads visiting from Florida, and they passed through another area on the way here. The sheriff of that area has reason to believe they’re holding a human against his will.”

Cam nods. Kidnapping a human is not a mortal offense in most areas, but it is frowned upon by those who wish to assimilate, live semi-normal lives. It’s certainly punishable here, if they can prove it.

“And if they are—what will you do?” Her eyes flick up to his face, and he appears bored by her question, maybe even a little irritated.

“We will glamour the human and send him home, then arrange for the sheriff to come and collect his prisoners. You can drive the human personally, if that would make you feel better,” he says, looking down at her; his tone borders on condescending, and she rolls her eyes.

“I just wanted to make sure justice will be served for the crime. You’ll have to get used to my inquisitive nature, if you plan to utilize my gift,” she reminds him, and he exhales slowly. He turns them around and they head down the street, back toward the bar. 

“In time, you’ll find I’m a very effective sheriff. You don’t have to be worried about whether or not I punish those who deserve it.”

Despite her previous question, she has no doubts about that—but she remembers from experience that vampires tend to leave humans in the dark by default, and she needs to know what she’s getting into if she’s going to be such a powerful sheriff’s pawn.

“Who will I be listening to?” she asks, because he already knows vampires are pretty much a no-go, but he clearly thinks she’s going to be up to this challenge.

“There is an entourage made up of vampires and human companions alike. I’m hoping the humans will give it away.”

“And how will I let you know if I discover something? We haven’t discussed that part, and I like to be prepared,” she tells him, trying to keep up with his steps. It feels like they’re on The West Wing, or something dramatic like that. “Code word? Text message?”

“Let’s say text message, for now,” he decides. She can see the neon lights of the club as they approach the parking lot, and Eric removes his hand from her back and looks down at her. “I’m going to be walking around, so if you sense danger…” 

“I’ll let you know. Telepath’s honor,” she says with a satirical tip of her head, and he opens the door, his expression unchanging. She walks a few feet inside the club, past bouncers who already know her as some kind of employee, and when she turns back to thank him for the briefing, Eric is gone.

Unconcerned by his swift and mysterious disappearance, she makes her way to the bar and orders a drink, perching on a stool as she waits for it. After the bartender slides it toward her, she makes a show of sipping it, tipping her head back so her throat is exposed, and a vampire beside her growls low. He’s got a shaved head and soft, pillowy lips, and if she were here for pleasure, she’d seriously consider it.  

Since she’s not, she stands and heads toward the back of the bar, where Pam is playing hostess to the group of nomads. She takes stock of them—three men, two women, all supernaturally gorgeous—and infers from the way they’re watching over a group of half-naked, dancing humans that those are the companions she’s expected to listen to. She weaves her way into the crowd and sidles up to a young man with soft looking brown hair and clear green eyes, then hip-checks him. It’s not hard, but it gets him to look back, and she smiles apologetically. 

“Sorry, hon!” she says, and he mouths no problem and reaches a hand out to her. She takes it, letting him spin her around, and when he releases his hold she leans in, her voice slightly raised so he can hear her over the music. “Hey, I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new in town?” He smiles and shakes his head. 

“Not from here, just passing through. I’m Shane.” 

“Cam,” she replies, and she glances around at the others, raises her eyebrows. “These your friends?”

“More like family,” he says, and his smile grows wide, fond. “We travel together, you know? We’re the family we chose.” 

“That sounds awesome, actually,” she replies, adding a bit of wistfulness to her voice. “I’ve always been jealous of people like you—people who are brave enough to lay their own path, make their own choices.” Shane ducks his head like he’s embarrassed about what he plans to share next. 

“It wasn’t easy. I had to completely cut ties with my homophobic parents, work two, sometimes three shit jobs to make enough money just to live. I was exhausted, depressed… and then I met Clive, and everything just kind of fell into place.” His gaze drifts to one of the vampires, a short, blond man with warm brown eyes, and the devotion he has for him is clear. And real, no glamouring or threatening or fear poisoning Shane’s thoughts. 

“I can tell you really love him,” she says aloud. She scans the minds of the other humans surrounding him, and none of them are glamoured, either. They think a lot about blood and sex, but they’re here of their own free will, hedonism aside. More than that, they’re happy, well taken care of. Content.

“Yeah,” Shane says, something like yearning in his voice, and then he looks back at her, his eyes soft. “Do you want to come with us? We’re heading to Tennessee next. There’s always room for one more, and you seem really nice.” Surprised, she looks away from the group and tilts her head, shows him a gentle smile. 

“No, I don’t think so, but it’s kind of you to offer. There might be more for me here than I think.” Cam reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it, just to be sure—and everything he’s said is true, from the pain to the pleasure. As she sifts through his memories more carefully, she’s hit with a warm rush of pride for this man she barely even knows. “Take care of yourself, Shane.”

“You too, Cam—good luck!” he calls out as she walks away.

She makes it to the bar, orders another drink, but she doesn't have a chance to pull out her phone to text Eric: he just shows up, arms folded in front of him, leaning against the stool beside her.

“You think the human wants to be here? That he’s… in love?” he asks, looking out over the crowd, at the visiting clan. Cam turns toward him, nods softly.

“Yeah, seems like it. I didn’t talk to that one directly, but from what I gathered, it’s his ex who's causing trouble with the sheriff. She wasn’t being kind to him, and the vampire in the red dress?” She takes a sip of her drink and gestures to a statuesque brunette, standing with a dark haired man she knows to be the human in question. “She convinced him to leave, to join them. It’s been six months, and he’s never been happier.”

“Interesting,” Eric murmurs, almost under his breath. “Humans never cease to surprise me, even after all this time.”

“What do you mean?” He looks over at her for the first time, and she raises her eyebrow, puzzled. “You didn’t think humans were capable of loving vampires?” He clears his throat.

“I knew they claimed it, but I assumed it had more to do with the high, the pleasure, than anything else. The way you describe it, their feelings seem deeper. Genuine.” 

She’s not sure what he’s getting at—does he think humans are inferior, incapable of such emotion, or that vampires are simply unworthy of receiving it? Rather than start that kind of debate, with her employer, in a packed nightclub, she takes a deep breath and exhales long.

“That’s what I felt when I read their minds, and I’ve read love before. I know when it’s genuine.” She takes another sip of her martini, and slowly, like he’s carefully considering her words, Eric nods. 

“Have you ever been in love?” he asks, and again, not really a topic she wants to discuss with anyone, but especially not him… 

So she’s not quite sure why she answers. “In hindsight, I’d have to say no. It’s not that I haven’t had relationships—I have, and I’ve been… infatuated, lustful, frenzied… but I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” He looks into her eyes, almost through them, like he’s trying to determine if she’s being honest with him—and she is, she really is. “Have you ever been in love?” she asks in return, but Eric straightens then, rests his hand on the bar, and looks back at the crowd.

“You did very well tonight. Thank you,” he says with just a glance in her direction before he strides over to the group of nomads. Because she can take a hint, she finishes her drink, pays her tab, and goes home. 

When she checks her banking app the next morning, there is a $500 transfer from the Fangtasia account. 

Not too bad for an hour of her time.

Cam goes to see Tara at work later in the week, sidling up to the bar in a leather jacket and jeans, a contented smile on her face. Even though Merlotte’s wasn’t around the last time she lived in Bon Temps, it still provides nostalgic, homey comfort somewhere in her mind. Sam nods at her and smiles.

“Well hey there, Cam. What can I get ya?” he asks, tossing a bar towel over his flannel-clad shoulder. Tara doesn’t turn at his greeting, because she’s concentrating on pouring a line of even shots, so Cam slides onto a stool and sets her phone down on the bar.

“Hi, Sam. I’ll take a Stella, please, and that hot bartender’s phone number.” 

Her teasing tone finally gets Tara to look at her over her shoulder, her answering grin bright. 

“I hear you over there, you little creature of the night,” Tara jokes back, “and if Sam would take these over to table four for me, I can get that beer for one of my best friends in the world, who I missed very much.” 

She lays it on thick, clearly trying to guilt trip him, and Sam doesn’t need to be asked twice, just chuckles and takes the tray of shots from her hands. There’s a little bit of lingering eye contact there that Cam doesn’t think she’s imagining—and she’s definitely not imagining the way Tara checks out his ass as he goes. 

Cam clears her throat.

“So, Cami Reyes, as I live and breathe,” Tara says when that moment is broken and her gaze returns to Cam’s. If she noticed Cam watching her, she doesn’t say. “You finally get a break from all that vampire business?”

“This week has been pretty light, actually. I took care of some daytime administrative stuff for the club, listened to a few minds, the usual,” she says with a smile. Tara grabs a glass and pours her a golden lager from the tap, capped off with a thick, white head of foam. Cam takes the glass appreciatively and sips it long and slow. “Mmm. Thank you. Have you been busy here?” she asks, looking around at the booming bar. 

“Busier than I’d like to be, some nights,” Tara says with a sigh of exasperation. “We’re still lookin' for another bartender to cover Thursdays and Fridays—I’ve been workin' overtime as a favor to Sam.” Tara looks over at her boss, her eyes tracking him as he wipes his hands on a towel and walks back into the office area. Cam hums.

“That’s good of you. He seems like a great guy,” she says lightly, leading, and takes another sip of her beer. Tara purses her lips like she’s trying to hold back a smirk. 

“Yeah, he’s real nice. Good guy to work for,” she responds; Cam narrows her eyes at her, and after a moment, Tara narrows hers back. “What, are you readin’ my mind or somethin’?” Cam’s palms go up instinctively.

“You know I would never… but asking me that question means there’s something in your mind to read.” She lowers her hands and raises her eyebrows, takes another drink. “Just saying.”

“Just sayin’ nothin’, Cami. I’m allowed to have secrets too; I mean, I’m not the one who up and left Louisiana and didn’t come back for ten whole years,” she says, hands moving to her hips. Her tone is wounded, and a little accusatory, and Cam sighs, guilt climbing up her throat.

“I know, and I’m sorry, Tara. I missed it here, I really did—but work got crazy, and I got sucked into some shit, and I’m finally out of it. I’m here now,” she reminds her, tone lightening, and she reaches out her hands to take one of Tara’s. Thankfully, her friend doesn’t pull away. “And I’m not leaving Louisiana any time soon, I promise.” 

It hurts Cam to say it, even though she has no intentions of leaving the area again—enough people have failed Tara, disappointed her, and the last thing she wants is to be added to that list. She couldn’t bear it. 

Tara nods slowly, then puts her other hand on top of Cam’s and squeezes. 

“I’m not mad, I’m just glad you’re back, is all. It wasn’t the same without you. Charlie’s Angels with only two just isn’t right,” she adds, calling back to the old nickname Gran used for the three of them. Cam fondly remembers the summers when they’d get up at dawn and run around town all day together, eating penny candy and popsicles from the ice cream truck until their teeth were sore and their tongues were blue. 

Tara squeezes her hands again, then releases them and grabs a bowl of potato chips, places it next to Cam’s glass.

“So… vampire rights attorney,” Tara drawls as Cam plucks a couple of chips from the bowl, crunching on them. Cam raises her brow, chews, and Tara shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, I think Bill’s okay and all, but do you really think they need our help? They can snap anyone’s neck they feel like; maybe you should be lookin’ out for the little guy.” 

“Oh, I do that too,” Cam assures her, washing the salt down with another sip of beer. “But you might be surprised at how often vampires are falsely accused of crimes—then again, maybe you wouldn’t be,” she says pointedly, and Tara sighs, nodding like she gets it. Cam continues on. “They’re people too, and they need someone looking out for them. Not many of us are willing to stick out our necks—no pun intended,” she adds with a grin. Tara rolls her eyes, but it’s all in good fun, and then Cam’s phone buzzes on the table beside her. 

“I know you don’t have a boyfriend, or I’d be hearin’ about him, so… vampire business?” Tara asks as Cam reaches for the phone. Her eyes flick over the screen.

“Vampire business,” she confirms as she reads over the text—it’s a set of coordinates, and clicking the link automatically opens her Maps app, its pin located in what appears to be the middle of the woods not far from Sam’s bar. She finishes the last glug of her beer and stands up, pulls a $20 bill from her pocket and lays it on the counter. Tara opens her mouth to protest, but Cam just raises a finger. “You’re the best bartender in the world, you deserve it—and you can use it to take me to dinner next week, somewhere you don’t work.” 

“Alright, alright, it’s a date. But you better get goin',” Tara replies, waving a hand in her friend’s direction. “I’ll text you my schedule. Don’t get yourself eaten!” 

Cam waves back and slips out the front door, holding her phone up in front of her so she can follow the app’s projected path. Her eyes quickly adjust to the dark, the soles of her boots making soft sounds against damp earth and foliage, but she stops in surprise about a mile in, when she sees a bright white beam of light, and then the repetitive flashing of police blue-and-reds. 

Eric appears next to her, like always, and she grabs the sleeve of his jacket. “What are we doing here?” she hisses under her breath as she scans the area, clocks at least 10 officials who actually belong at what is clearly an active crime scene. Eric places his palm against the middle of her back and slowly guides her toward a plain-clothes cop. 

“Detective Graham and I have an agreement. When he comes across an unusual death, he calls me.” As they approach the detective, a man in his fifties with sandy hair and late-night stubble, Cam notices a white sheet draped over an oddly shaped mound—a vaguely human-shaped mound, which leaves bright red splotches that soak and bleed into the sheet near the bottom hem. “Camila,” Eric says suddenly, which causes her to look up from the unknown mass like a spell broken, “I have to warn you: the victim here has been cut in half, and the police have only located the top half of her body. If you think you can’t handle it–”

“I can handle it,” she responds, her voice soft but sure, and he nods and reaches out his hand when he’s close enough to shake the detective’s. 

“Mr. Northman, pleasure,” Detective Graham greets roughly, though he doesn’t sound as if he means it. His eyes move from Eric’s to Cam’s, and he scrutinizes her face. “This your psychic?” 

“She is,” Eric replies coolly. “Her name is Camila Reyes… And, unfortunately, with the victim in this state, I’m afraid she’s going to need to touch the body.”

The detective heaves a deep, unhappy breath. 

“You gotta know how this looks to the rest of the guys already, me bringin' in a vampire and a psychic,” Graham says, shaking his head. “But sure, why not. Let’s tamper with evidence while we’re at it.” 

“I don’t intend to alter the scene in any way, Detective,” Cam assures, stepping forward and letting her eyes roam over the clearing, “and I assume your techs have already taken fingerprints, trace samples, if they found any.” Her gaze flicks over to a small group of tired looking officers wearing Crime Scene jackets and sipping coffee from a thermos; they clearly have nothing better to do at the moment, which means all that can be done has been completed already. “You can take mine to rule me out, if you’d like.”

“You a cop?” Graham asks gruffly, watching her as she appraises the scene, the unsettled earth around the body, the trail of blood that tells them she was cut in half elsewhere and dragged to this spot. Cam shakes her head, then crouches down and lifts a corner of the sheet to look at their victim’s face.

“Lawyer,” she answers, and she does her best to school her expression; the dead woman looks to be in her forties, white, with jet black hair and a set of golden eyes that are wide and unmoving. She’s naked, and her body is shredded at the torso—not a clean incision like she’d expect from a serial killer, someone with practice severing limbs. There are no marks on her face or arms, just ragged cuts along her weeping, empty midsection. “Imprecise, savage bisection, teeth marks, organs have been removed,” she notes, and she looks up at Eric, wondering if he’ll attribute this to the same killer she’s picturing. 

“Werewolf,” he answers seriously, and she nods once, glad they’re on the same page. Graham splutters. 

“I’m sorry, werewolf?” he asks, incredulous. “Don’t tell me those things are real too.” Cam just shrugs—she’s been on this end of many a supernatural revelation before, nothing you can say really helps—and presses her hand to the cold skin of the victim’s arm. 

Memories flash through her mind, some older, though the more recent ones are what she’s looking for. A man frequents those, someone tall and tan with copper-colored hair and a sweet smile, but he dissolves quickly into feelings of rage and sadness, loss, heartbreak. There is vindication, elation, and then abruptly, nothing. Cam pulls her hand away, covers the woman’s face, and stands. 

“Her mate was killed, and she went after the pack for revenge. It seems like she killed one of theirs and they returned the favor. You’re going to want to rule this an accident,” she tells the detective as she walks toward them, and he crosses his arms in front of him, his expression closed off and irritated.

“Like hell—we have trace evidence.”

“And I can tell you exactly what your lab will find when they process it: no fingerprints, no fibers,” she lists, ticking off her fingers as she goes. “Saliva will be canine, hair will be canine. You won’t be able to match a weapon to the wounds, and either the DA will drop your case right there, or,” she adds, pausing for effect, “if you flip a coin and decide to go the dental impression route, the teeth will be canine, too. The ME will consult the Department of Wildlife and determine that your attacker is something larger than the local coyote population, but slightly smaller than a black bear.”

“We could interview her known acquaintances, find someone with a motive,” Graham counters, and though Eric looks like he’s about to step in, Cam continues, her tone more sympathetic.

“No offense, Detective, but you didn’t know werewolves existed five minutes ago. How do you plan to locate a pack, infiltrate it, and arrest whoever is responsible? And even if you did find the pack, any good defense attorney would destroy you in court if all you have is evidence of an animal attack.” She doesn’t need to use her ability to know that his resolve is waning, so she does decide to pull Eric in for backup, and she gestures to him. “Eric has power here, as sheriff. He can appeal to the werewolf council, provide them with the evidence. If they determine a crime has been committed, they’ll punish the offending parties themselves.”

“If they determine a crime has been committed?” the detective asks, pointing to the half a body. “I think it’s pretty goddamn clear that’s what happened here.”

“Werewolf law is more eye-for-an-eye than human justice,” Eric explains. “If they can defend the killing because she eliminated one of their own, everyone involved just moves on.”

“And as for getting answers for her family,” Cam adds, stepping back in, “believe me, they already know. I’d guess they already found the other half of her body, and they’ll take it up with the council too.”

Graham exhales, raises his eyes to the sky, and then drops them back to Cam’s face.

“You know a lot about werewolves for a big-city lawyer,” he says eventually, and then he looks to Eric and back to the victim. “I’m going to run those samples, and if you’re right, we’ll rule it an animal attack. I’ll keep you updated, Mr. Northman,” he says, reaching out a hand, and the two of them shake before parting. “And I appreciate your expertise, Ms. Reyes, even if I’m not too fond of the outcome.” He reaches a hand out for her as well, and she shakes it before watching him walk back to the bank of squad cars across the clearing. 

Eric reaches out to touch Cam’s shoulder, and they turn, start walking back the way she came. 

“Well done,” he tells her as they traipse through the underbrush. She looks up at him through the corner of her eye. 

“Thanks… although, I know you were testing me,” she says. Eric hums, a thoughtful noise, and nods his head. 

“I figured you’d catch on to that. I need to know I can count on you,” he admits, reaching out to lift a low-hanging branch so it doesn’t smack her in the face. “And because it seems that this area is in the middle of some kind of lycanthropic territory dispute, I wanted to see what you knew about creatures other than vampires.”

“That’s fair, I guess,” she acquiesces, taking the path in front of them. “For the record, I’ve dealt with vampires, werewolves, witches, shifters, druids, fairies… anything else we run across, you’ll have to give me the CliffsNotes version.” 

Eric pauses and looks over at her, and she stops too, nearly holding in her breath; having his full attention on her, even in the dark, makes her head buzz and her stomach flip. She wets her lips.

“I’m not familiar with Cliff,” he says after a moment of scrutinizing her face, “but I am happy to give you anything you need.”

[whumpshaped]

cornered animal

u guys r such a hivemind. i can respect that. i hear u loud and clear

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, lady whumper, conditioning, dehumanisation, begging, sadistic whumper

"Please, leave me be," Helle said shakily, backing away from their sire as she kept advancing on them. "Have I not complied with all of your requests? Have I not been perfect?"

Lady Marie laughed, a soft sound, almost fond. "Oh, perfect is a very strong word to describe what you are. It is true that you have improved in certain areas, and you are getting better at following orders. But perfect? Perfect is a long way off, pet."

"I am trying my best." Desperation was evident in their voice, and in every move they made. Their room wasn't the most spacious, if it could be called a room at all. Their back soon hit the wall, and they realised they had nowhere to run. "Mistress, please, you really have no reason to torment me further. I understand. I do. I, I apologise for my inability to serve you better, but I will improve more, and you shall have a perfect servant in no time. I promise. Please."

"I have been promised many things in life and death alike," she said thoughtfully, coming to a stop outside of arm's reach. Thank god. "Not many of them kept, now that I think about it. And you, pet, are a practised liar; one of your many great talents, one might say."

"I would not dare lie to you, Mistress," they said hastily. "There was a time when I thought I could fool you, and that time is long past. I know my place, now. You– you have made it very clear." They pressed into the wall even more, and they felt a sudden surge of empathy towards the humans they had been hunting for the past decades. They were all but cornered animals in Lady Marie's world, whether alive or undead didn't matter one bit.

"So why do you think I came to visit you, then?"

Helle didn't know. They wished they had, but they were wrecking their head for any little transgressions they might've committed and coming up empty. "I, I honestly do not know, I thought I was doing an adequate job! If I made a mistake, it was out of ignorance, and I can do better if you tell me how. I am eager to do better for you, Mistress, please, give me a chance. One chance without punishment. Please."

"You are not thinking about the right things. Let me give you a hint, pet: you have done nothing wrong recently that would be deserving of a punishment. Now, try again."

Their head was spinning. They were too stressed to be figuring out Lady Marie's motivations, especially given how unpredictable she could be. If they hadn't made a mistake, then why, why was she in their cell? Why did she have that bloodthirsty smile on her face, why did she look at them like they were prey, why did she come at an hour that usually meant cruel whippings and silver pressed against their tongue?

"I do not– do not have the faintest idea, Mistress," they choked out. "I apologise. I have made so many mistakes in the past, punishments are all I can recall."

"Endearing," she teased. "Well, that all changes tonight! Tonight, you will learn a lesson other than atoning for past actions."

"N-no punishment?" they asked hopefully.

"None at all, dear pet." Despite saying that, her thrall soon came into the room, carrying the silver tipped whip that made their breath hitch.

"No, wait, Mistress, please, I have done nothing wrong, you said it yourself! You said there would be no punishment!" Their panic came back in full force, and they grabbed onto their shirt protectively, ready to hiss and bite and claw at her if she tried to take it. They hadn't made a mistake. No whipping was in order.

"And I am no filthy liar. This is not a punishment, pet." She gestured to the floor, and they dropped to their knees like a puppet on a string. They had done this so many times. This was a punishment, this was how punishments started, she was going to torture them, burn them, whip them bloody. "Tonight you shall learn that I expect unconditional devotion. Sacrifices without any rewards in exchange. Your pain without having done me wrong. That way I know you truly are loyal to me."

"I am," they sobbed. "I am, I am loyal, I– that is why I made no mistakes, that is why I am so careful to serve you to the best of my abilities, that is why–"

"That is why you will take whatever I give you." She glanced down at their shirt, and they couldn't, they couldn't bring themself to take it off and subject themself to another night of agony, not without any reason, not when they hadn't even been expecting it. They thought they were okay. "Will you not?"

Their tears felt especially hot against their permanently cold skin, the only warmth they were allowed to feel anymore apart from the fresh blood they were so rarely gifted. They stared at the whip in her hand, trying to will their trembling hands to comply with her orders and failing. "Please..."

"You see, this is why these nights are so crucial in training arrogant little servants like you. All of you think I should be satisfied with your shallow cooperation, your... performance of obedience. But as soon as serving me becomes a touch more difficult, you are all eager to flee." She stepped closer, and their hold on their shirt tightened even more. "Unconditional devotion is so much more than you could even comprehend right now. But you will learn. I am here to make sure of that."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight

[christian-oc-tournament]

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Valentina Lucia Helsing [Rangers @ladyaster]

Great grandniece of the legendary nemesis of Count Dracula, Valentina must uphold the Van Helsing legacy and become an active Ranger (a mediator between the world of man and the world of magic, ensuring the safety of both realms while defending them against all manner of monsters and miscreants) in lieu of her MIA older brother, who was already a remarkable Ranger in his own right. It is not a job she is particularly fond of: she's terrified of the concept of becoming monster food and would much rather be looking after horses or spending time in the theater, and the shoes she needs to fill are incredibly large as is, but with a wounded father and her younger sister being only ten, it is a mantle she must don nevertheless. Now, she travels from town to town until she can reach London, where her brother was last seen, and in the meantime does her best to help the locals - man and fae alike - with their problems. Sometimes it may be a spiteful faerie plaguing a human family, other times a group of humans might be desecrating territory sacred to the fae, and other times, both may be plagued by any manner of vampire lycanthrope, or warlock. While very much on the anxious side, Valentina's sense of compassion overrides her fear, especially when civilian lives are on the line, and while she's still nervously learning the ropes, she has the potential to become a truly great Ranger both on the diplomatic and combative front with enough time. As an older sister, she has plenty of practice being comforting and good at reaching a compromise for avoidable situations. As a fighter, she is resourceful with a blossoming sense of courage and justice, and well versed in the study of miscellaneous monsters. Off the job, she may be mostly introverted but easily gets starry-eyed over various sights and activities, and enjoys the newly budding cinema industry, opera and stageplays, current fashion trends, learning about animals (especially horses and cats) and making confections. Hanging out at hole in the wall establishments can prove useful to get the word on the street regarding any strange goings-on in the area, but she'd be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy visiting them just for some nice time off and talking with fellow Rangers who wish to join her (particularly her childhood friend Rafail, a changeling in the same business who is tagging along with her on her journey given they're both new to the job and figure working together will yield the best results).

Wendy Darling [@kazoosandfannypacks]

Wendy is a level-headed leader and always has her feet on the ground, which clashes with her roommates at uni, the outgoing card player, Alice and the quiet follower, Dorothy. The three girls soon realize that they may not be as different as they think: all three of them took childhood journeys to magical lands. What's more, these magical journeys left them with powers, like real life superheroes. Wendy can fly magic she learned while journeying through Neverland.

[brynn-lear]

"SALUTATIONS, I am Cranberry N.V. Tilde's editor. I'll be delighted to assist you in browsing their works."

⌜⟡⌟ TABLE OF CONTENTS ⌜⟡⌟ i. Teyvat Times [Genshin Impact] ii. Velvet Rumors [Persona Series] iii. The Blue Sea Star [Honkai Star Rail] iv. Fodlan Winds [Fire Emblem, to be added] v. Specials [original content, to be added]

【i.】 Teyvat Times

✧ When The Cypress Tree Wilts ✧ Yan!Kamisato Ayato Fanfic Kamisato Ayato, the sole survivor of Teyvat, struggles to cope with grief. He finds solace in the company of a fellow survivor, (Y/n), on the Astral Express. Although the two came from different universes, with him being a fictional character on (Y/n)'s end, he had grown fond of them. Perhaps too fond for Mister Yang's liking. He has seen this story played out once already. 𓂂 Read here

✦ His Dog ✦ Dottore Drabble "You're 0.0035 seconds late. Do better." 𓂂 Read here

✧ Grievances ✧ Yan!Zhongli Comic "Why..." 𓂂 See here

✦ Papers, Please ✦ Thoma Angst Fic Exploring the possibility that the resistance failed, Inazuma's borders became stricter than ever before. Thoma begs the inspector to let (Y/n) in last minute, but it's a far more challenging ordeal for a "fixer" 𓂂 Read here

✧ "So I could've told her-" ✧ Yan!Neuvillette Comic Regency yandere au where Neuvillette doesn't know how to express his affections properly since childhood 𓂂 See here

✦ Little Mermaid ✦ Yan!Al Haitham Comic Aphotic: sea witch grants you a dangerous wish. it affects your lover. 𓂂 See here

✧ Pantomime of the Night ✧ Yan!Arlecchino Fancomic Comic inspired by a yandere vampire!arle fic written by harmonysanreads 𓂂 See here

✦ Capitano's So-Called Liability ✦ Yan!Capitano Series You, cursed to live as an elderly woman after losing a bet to Alice, decided to live your best life by watching thrills as the assistant of the most powerful man in Teyvat: Capitano. However, it seems that with you, he would gladly walk at a slower pace. (#Capitano's So-Called Liability) 𓂂 Chapter 1, 𓂂 Comic 1𓂂 HCs 1

✧ "Ship" In A Bottle ✦ Diluc Drabble Diluc doesn't seem to like the ex-pirate who visits Angel's Share all that much, but he'll change his mind soon enough. 𓂂 Read here

✦ Paging Dr. Zandik ✦ Yan!Dottore Drabble A House MD au because I love House MD it's my childhood. 𓂂 Read here

【ii.】 Velvet Rumors

✧ A Tasteless Cup ✧ Yan!Akira Kurusu Fanfic After the destruction of your previous reality, you and Akira Kurusu landed in Teyvat. In an effort to stay afloat, Akira had set up a book café in Mondstadt alongside you. However, is this the true flavor of "Freedom"? 𓂂 Read here

【iii.】 The Blue Sea Star

✧ WhoDrankIt ✧ Yandere Various!H:SR OTOME GAME!!! You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it... (Tap to learn more) 𓂂 The Original Comic 𓂂 The Otome Game 1.0 Beta Link

✦ If You Were Church... ✦ Yan!Sunday Art "I'll get on my knees." 𓂂 See here

✧ The Lovely Miss Sparkle! ✧ Sparkle Sketches Come take a look! In 5... 4... 3... 2... 𓂂 See here

✦ He Changed Himself For You... ✦ Yan!Gallagher Comic Gallagher knows more about you than he knows himself. And if he could just mold himself to be your type... 𓂂 See here

✧ The Dog Days Are Over ✧ Gallagher Sketches Just a place for me to dump general Gallagher art sketches 𓂂 See here

✦ A Happy Farm Life ✦ Yandere Dog!Gallagher HCs & Sketches yandere half-dog!Gallagher and forgetful farmer!reader au collection. 𓂂 See here, 2

✧ GALLAGHER PROPAGANDA ✧ Yan!Gallagher HCs He had to win, okay- 𓂂 Read here

✦ I Am The Righteous Hand Of God. ✦ Sunday & Gallagher Animatic I am the devil that you forgot. 𓂂 See here

✧ Don't Be Foolish ✧ Yandere Emanator!Dr. Ratio Comic Don't make me worry, again. 𓂂 See here

✦ Nah Bro We MILKIN' ✦ Yandere Dog!Gallagher Drabbles & Sketches I swore I made this as a joke. 𓂂 See here

✧ Family Matters ✧ Gallagher/RobinHill Drabble Robin keeps getting pestered by your older brother, Sunday. 𓂂 See here

✦ Holding A Wedding On Top Of His Funeral ✦ Yandere Rancher!Gallagher & Yandere Cowboy!Boothill Art Yandere rancher!Gallagher vs Yandere cowboy!Boothill over a mail order bride!reader fic when? When I'm done with the event probably- 𓂂 See here

【iv.】 Fodlan Winds

✧ “Come on, teach. Don't make me delete your saves.” ✧ Yan!Claude Von Riegan Comic He knows you're playing. But why aren't you choosing Golden Deer...? 𓂂 See here

"If you are looking for Ms. Lear's personal journals instead, please follow me."

[thepenultimateword]

Claws and Fangs

The werewolf stretched across the large bearskin rug, the half-moon's pale light draped ethereal across their shoulders. The last several hours had been spent in lazy quiet, the fire in the hearth filling the empty room with warmth and light crackling.

The werewolf hated it.

At the other end of the house, the front door creaked open, jolting them upright with twitching ears and crazed intent. The rug skidded out from their feet as they pushed off down the hall. Even in their human form, they were always dominated by the feral instinct of their condition.

"Fangs!" the werewolf cried, bowling their lover into the entryway table before the vampire could even finish removing their earrings.

"Hey! Hey!" the vampire cried, shoving them back while simultaneously chuckling at the nips and kisses the werewolf littered their face and head with. "Give me some space to breath."

The werewolf reluctantly undraped themselves from the vampires shoulders and stepped a few inches back. "You were gone for ages."

The vampire finished undoing their second earring--a ruby drop on a long gold chain that reached to a cuff on the rim of their ear--and dropped it into the overstuffed jewelry bowl on the tabletop. "Clan gatherings are rather hard to put together when we live so spread apart, so they tend to go long. No one wants to say goodbye first. It's sort of like you're pack."

The werewolf winced.

Sure. Sure, it was like a pack. The werewolf may have never met the vampire's family, but they didn't need to see how close-knit they were to know it was nothing alike. If it were, the vampire wouldn't be here. Or well...perhaps they would, considering, but...well, still. They all lived so separate.

"What?" The vampire's slender index finger traced the furrow in their brow.

"I left my pack. For you."

The vampire's face immediately twisted up in confusion and something akin to defensiveness, amber eyes flashing, teeth just poking out from their under lips. "And?"

"I'm just saying..."

What were they saying? Of course, the vampire should be allowed to visit their family. Did the werewolf want them not to because they were jealous? That was a horribly selfish thing to wish. It wasn't as if they'd been forced to leave their own family. They made a choice.

They just wished they'd known beforehand how it would feel when they left. Like having something amputated--or being something amputated, a mere limb of a bigger whole, useless without the rest of them attached.

It was worse that the vampire's house was so big and solitary and far away from everything. Whenever they left, the werewolf felt like they might go insane from the quiet. That is if the soul-crushing loneliness didn't get them first.

No. Stop it. Their lover was back now; they shouldn't be thinking about this. They should be happy to see them, not upset that they left them behind in the first place.

The vampire raised their brows as the werewolf trailed off. "You're saying...?"

"Maybe you should bring me."

The vampire's breath hitched in their throat. "What?"

The werewolf wasn't exactly sure what that tone meant. Surprise? Offense? Was there a rule against inviting werewolves to inner family gatherings? In any case, they found themselves blabbering a retort.

"I'm with you, so that makes me technically part of the clan. That's how it would work in the pack at least. So, I definitely should be going to clan reunions with you from now on. I mean, I think it would be better that way. I haven't even met your family yet. You sort of met mine; it's not fair if I don't meet yours."

"I don't think that's a good idea," [Vampire] grimaced.

"Because I'm a werewolf...?"

"Because of lots of reasons. Look, I love them, but they're not always great. Why do you even want to meet them? Haven't we been fine on our own?"

"I'm a werewolf without a pack," they said bluntly. "I'm not fine."

The vampire's intense gaze fixed on them, really fixed on them. Maybe it was a vampire thing, but whenever they did that, it made Werewolf's skin crawl, like needles prickling from the inside out instead of from the outside in. They must really be thinking about this. They quickly regretted their statement; the vampire had done a lot for them. It really would be selfish to ask for more.

Suddenly, the vampire scooped them into a bridal carry, evoking a sharp yelp from the werewolf's throat. Despite the werewolf being the bulkier one in the relationship, the vampire was never remiss to remind them who was stronger physically. Luckily the werewolf liked being babied.

"Alright," the vampire said. "If it means that much, you can come."

The werewolf yipped, craning their neck to snuggle beneath the Vampire's chin. They must have snuggled a little too hard though because the vampire groaned softly through their teeth as their mouth was forcefully snapped shut. Instead of letting them back down though, they simply grumbled the next piece of news through the spaces in their molars.

"Since a few of the clan are sticking around a while, the next reunion is in two weeks. I've been pressed to spend an entire weekend. I originally said no so as to not leave you alone, but if you're coming along..."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" The werewolf couldn't control their excited squirming. If it was the time of the month for a tail, it would be wagging. "I'll be super polite and impressive! Thank you!"

"It's really not that exciting though." They had to readjust the werewolf in their arms to keep them from slipping, also taking the opportunity to tip them back and look directly into their eyes. “I don't want you to be disappointed when it turns out to be a bunch of stuffy old people hanging out."

The werewolf tried not to fall into a drooling daze as they stared into their lover’s hypnotic gaze. They weren’t sure if it was the vampire part or the being totally smitten part, but somehow they were always losing themselves in that molten amber stare.

“You’re only a little stuffy.”

“Oh, really?” The vampire grinned exposing the full glory of his elongated fangs. “Well, you’re only a little chaotic.”

“Only a little? I better step up my game.”

“Don’t push your luck, Claws.”

The vampire nuzzled their face, fangs skimming down their cheek before pressing their mouth with a gentle kiss.

***

The werewolf’s suitcase was nearly packed to overflowing. Mostly because the vampire had stuffed it with about a dozen different changes of clothes that they'd never even seen before, let alone worn.

"Dinner, tea, eveningwear, nightwear," they verbally labeled as they laid out each clothing set.

"What's this?" the werewolf said, picking at a silken charcoal suit complete with an emerald floral vest and tie. The thread making up the design was colored a glimmering gold--or was that real? The werewolf really wouldn’t put it past them.

"Dress clothes. In case we do something fancy."

"Is doing something fancy, likely?"

They already weren't liking the look of that tie. They bet that gold thread was scratchy.

"60/40."

Ok, too much of a chance to convince Vampire it was unnecessary, but perhaps there were other ways to make them ditch it.

“And it’d really matter what I wear? You really change clothes this much when you visit?”

The vampire blinked at them as if they’d just said they planned to walk around the whole visit in the nude.

“Yes.”

“Ok, ok.” The werewolf held their hands up defensively. “I’ll wear the suit.”

And so here they were, a little after 6 o’ clock, hefting their overly large bag into the back of the vampire’s sleek black car. The sun had gone down a little less than an hour ago, and though the windows in the car were all tinted dark to keep out the terrible, deadly blaze of the sun, the vampire still always preferred to drive at night.

"Claws!" the vampire called as they hesitated by the trunk of the car, deciding whether this was actually a terrible idea. They really only had experience with the one vampire. What if this wasn't a cure to their loneliness but a bigger assurance that they were making a mistake?

"Claws!"

The werewolf jolted, quickly slamming the trunk closed and sliding into the passenger seat. "Sorry."

"You ok?"

"Mm. Just nervous."

The vampire laughed lightly, something between amused and nervous. "I'd say don't be but..." They shifted the gear into drive and began the long winding descent from their villa. "Maybe it is best if your guard is a little up this weekend."

The werewolf tipped their head. "You think they're going to hurt me?"

"Physically? No. Emotionally? Well...that depends."

"On what?"

"On how they take it."

"Take what?"

The vampire briefly took their eyes off the leaf-blanketed drive to nod in their direction.

It struck the werewolf like a bag of rocks.

"Wait. You haven't told them about me?"

"I have. Just not...details."

"So my species...?"

"Never came up."

"Ugh!" A low growl vibrated in the werewolf's throat, and they slammed their fists on their knees. "I can't believe you!"

"It wasn't exactly easy to bring up."

"'I'm seeing a lycanthrope.' There. That easy."

The vampire's gloved hands creaked on the steering wheel, amber eyes pinned straight ahead. "You obviously don't understand what it's like for me."

"I told mine."

They weren't certain whether it was meant as an argument or a comfort. Certainly, they understood more than anyone else what it was like to confront one's family with such irregular news. There were reasons vampires and werewolves typically kept to their own kinds. The reaction to their sudden declaration of love hadn't exactly been smooth, but it had been a relief. Having everything in the open was easier than holding their feelings, heavy and secret, to their chest.

"That's different. They weren't actually your family."

The werewolf went rigid. Such a response didn't even merit a growl.

The vampire pressed their toe to the break, coming to a stop in the middle of the pitch black road. Their eyes glinted in the dark as they turned to face them.

"That came out wrong. What I meant was, you weren't born into your family, you were chosen. The expectations are different."

"They expect me to be happy," the werewolf challenged. "Don't yours?"

The vampire sighed deeply, slowly revving the car back up to the speed limit. "It's not that simple."

The werewolf thunked their forehead softly against the passenger window, squinting out at the shapes of trees and bushes. They hated the distinct implication in the air that the vampire had decided they just couldn't understand. And maybe they couldn't. Wasn't it that simple? If someone loved you, they wanted you to be happy. Right? Sure, nothing was perfect, but the foundation was there.

They huffed, their breath clouding up the glass, and closed their eyes, concentrating on the soft hum of the engine and the whir of passing road instead of whether they may have made a mistake.

They must have dozed off because the next time they opened their eyes, they were approaching an enormous black castle, crooked spires stretching toward the wide, haloed moon. Why were vampires so pretentious?

"This is your parent's house?" the werewolf mumbled with a large yawn.

The vampire jolted a little at the sound of their voice before putting out a hand to squeeze their arm, an acknowledgment and an apology wrapped in one. "Summer home. We came all the time as children, but now it's just for reunions."

"Are all vampire families obscenely rich, or is that just a you thing?"

"Shut up," the vampire chuckled, parking along the side of the drive behind three or four other ridiculously pretty vehicles. "You don't live this long without getting some perks."

They popped the door and the werewolf followed them around to the back of the car, stretching their long limbs with each step.

"So how are we doing this? Am I carrying you over the threshold? Go in side by side? A little behind me?"

"Definitely the first one," the werewolf said, accepting their bag. "I don't know, doesn't really matter I guess. They do know I'm coming, right?"

"Yeees."

"Only checking. I guess we could, like, link arms or something?"

"Or just hold hands?"

The werewolf blushed a little. "Yes, that would...be more natural."

"We can link arms if you want."

"No."

"Come on, it wasn't a bad idea."

"No, it's silly."

"It's not silly. Let's do it. "

"I don't want to--"

"It's ok, I just wasn't imagining it right, but if you want--"

"Fine!" The werewolf abruptly hugged the vampire's arm. "How's this?"

The vampire's breath hitched, and when their voice came out it was soft. "It's nice."

The werewolf nodded curtly, making their grip a little tighter as they turned toward the entrance steps. It was suddenly hitting them that they were walking straight into a vampire den. Their original prejudices and anxieties about vampires had been mostly eradicated, but even the most open-minded person would wonder at the wisdom of entering a house full of immortals with the power to crush your skull like an eggshell. Especially when those immortals habitually drank the blood of mortals like them to live.

The vampire placed their hand over the werewolf's knuckles as they approached the double door, cold thumb stroking lightly across the back of their hand. This was fine. They wanted this. They were getting another family. It was fine. Everything was fi--

One of the great wooden doors swung open.

...

I'm sorry to cut this off right at the good part, but this was getting super long and I have no idea when I'll reach another good stopping point. So stay tuned for the family meeting in part two. Also deciding whether to actively call them Claws and Fangs 😂 obviously not their real names but maybe they could acknowledge each other that way. I dunno.

Part Two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills

[nightingale2004]

The vampire diaries next generation: Delena version

Stefanie Jenna Gilbert Salvatore

Faceclaim: Madison Beer

Stefanie is the first daughter of Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore

She is the oldest in her family

Stefanie takes after her mother and does her best to be a responsible daughter and older sister

She is a cheerleader and captain of the Mystic Falls cheer squad and chairman of the Mystic Falls high committee

Damon and Elena feel like she is her late uncle Stefan incarnate

Loves seeing the Saltzman twins

She is a great planner and is considered a great service to her community

She is seen as the golden girl and perfect child

She loves her family and even does volunteer work at the Salvatore boarding school (she knows about the supernatural due to an incident regarding one of her sisters)

Helps out her mom at the hospital when she has the time

She also keeps her siblings in line and babysits her youngest sister who is named Sarah Miranda Gilbert Salvatore

She also works at the Mystic grill and sings a little bit

Stefanie is often called goody goody, golden girl, and/or goody two shoes by her sister Rosabella

Stefanie also goes by Stef, or mini Stefan by her family (mostly Damon)

Damon finds it scary how alike his daughter and late brother are

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosabella Lillian Gilbert Salvatore

Faceclaim: Sofia Carson

Rosabella is the second born child of Damon and Elena

She takes after Damon.......by a lot (Alaric and Matt have expressed this many, many times)

Rose and Stefanie don't get along all that well and constantly tease and argue with each other (same thing with Elena)

Every time she and Stefanie have a fight, it reminds Damon of how he and Stefan used to fight

Rosabella is considered the "troublemaker" in the family

Rose spends time at her dad's nightclub in Mystic Falls (her and Damon have tried to keep it on the downlow)

Rose is very jealous of her older sister but would never tell her that

Accidentally got herself turned into a vampire when she snuck off to a party, and a vampire was passing by.

She got transferred from Mystic Falls High to the boarding school shortly after

She and her uncle Jeremy talk a lot, and she loves it when he comes to Mystic Falls for a visit

She likes photography and has creative writing flame. (She writes for her school paper and helps her dad get some publicity)

She lives to annoy Stefanie and tries to embarrass her

When Rose first turned into a vampire, she locked herself in her room to try and contain herself from hurting her family

When her thirst became too much, she would leave to hide in the woods of Mystic falls, but her family would always do everything they could to help her control her thirst for blood no matter what

She drinks both human and animal blood (she did go ripper once and has regretted it ever since)

Her dad calls her his little raven. She pretends to hate the Nickname, but she secretly loves it

Alaric and Matt call Rose, either a mini Damon or a she-demon (she likes it and laughs about it a lot)

`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,`,

Zachary Grayson Gilbert Salvatore

Faceclaim: Gavin Casalegno

Zachary takes after Damon in looks, but he is calmer like Elena and has an artistic soul like his uncle Jeremy

Zach mostly keeps to himself and never really interacts with society or the town in general

He loves his family

His older sisters often tease him but he knows it's out of love

He also babysits Sarah

He also knew about the supernatural (he knew when he was in middle school)

He found out about the supernatural by stumbling upon his late uncle Stefan's diary, and then he made connections by doing a lot (and I do mean a lot) of research

Out of his three sisters, he loved Rose the most due to them being seen as outcasts in the towns eyes

When his sister, Rosabella, was turned into a vampire, he was more distant with her at first, but he saw how hard she was fighting her "natural killer instincts," and they slowly reconnected again

Zach takes combat and hunter lessons from his uncle Jeremy whenever he's in town or whenever they talk on the phone

Has an interest in auto-mechanics and works at an auto shop (Damon sees a bit of Stefan in Zach whenever he's fixing a car or motorcycle)

He also plays a little bit of football

[nightmaretist]

TIMING: Mid April PARTIES: Mercy & Inge LOCATION: Dance Macabre SUMMARY: Inge finds Mercy in the club bathroom, where the vampire is hiding from the loud noise and flashing lights. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Going to Dance Macabre had lost some of its charm now that Inge couldn’t get down on the dance floor as she was used to. She tended to get into the club with an air of confidence, ready to dance to the goth music that usually ruled the speakers and make it through a sleepless night. But there was no fun to be found in dancing now and so she found herself evading the club or, if she visited, sitting in a booth, sulking.

Most days, she didn’t even make her way there by car and foot — she just manifested in a bathroom stall, locked it and waited a moment before exiting. Today she chose that way, preferring her commute through the astral. She’d been back at school teaching and her body hurt from the standing, but she didn’t want another day at home.

So she swung open the door of the bathroom, finding it empty save for one person. A woman – no surprise there – and as would be Inge’s luck, she was upset. For a moment she stood there in the doorway of the bathroom stall, wondering if she could get away with astral projecting somewhere else but eventually deciding against it. “Hey,” she said, walking up to the sinks and mirrors. She opened a faucet, let cold water run over her hands despite her not having used the toilet. “Everything okay?” She wondered if this was a human, hoped it wasn’t. “Something happen out there?”

—

Mercy was tired of being confined to Caleb’s house. It was where she lingered most days, unless she were at The Sugar Pot working in the shadows learning about how the 21st century seemed to work. And even then, those days could be quite frustrating. Nothing about Wicked’s Rest was as she had remembered, except the occasional stroll through nature where somehow man had decided to leave things untouched. Those were her favorite places. And they had reminded her briefly of the life she had once lived.

But tonight, while Caleb was out doing his own thing, Mercy had found herself venturing out into the darkness and down sidewalks and streets until she had come to a place known as Dance Macabre. For whatever reason, it had given her an odd sensation. It had felt right and where she belonged. Even the name seemed to remind her of the works of one of the greatest playwrights of her time…William Shakespeare.

As she moved forward, drawn in, she smiled as a man who was much larger than her small 5’2” stature allowed her to pass into the haze of living and undead alike. It wasn’t what she had expected at all. And in fact, it was so loud that it hurt her ears. Music thumped and the smoke and haze with strobing lights left her feeling disoriented. She had immediately regretted coming into the loud nightclub. But Mercy couldn’t seem to find her way out, and instead, she stumbled towards the bar, where a tall blonde woman had asked if she was okay, before the vampire made a break for what seemed to be a dark hall that was mute with anything flashing.

Coming to a doorway, she desperately looked for the handle and out of frustration pushed on it, which sent her careening forward and into a smaller room that wreaked of an all too familiar stink that lingered in the fields of Salem many, many years ago. But Mercy didn’t care. It seemed like a safer place to be - with muffled sounds and steady white candlelight overhead, and without thinking any harder, she found a dark and safe space to crawl up under, until she heard a voice speak to her.

Peering out from under the sink, Mercy looked up to see a woman standing there, “Nay, tis much too loud and all consuming. I hath made quite the mistake in coming here. But I know not of how to leave.” The 17th century vampire realized her words were once again aging her, but in this moment, the fear and anxiety she felt was much too great to worry about what someone thought.

—

The bathroom was often a place for things like this, wasn’t it? For drunk girls to deliver compliments as if they were soliloquies and wipe a strand of hair from your face. To hold someone’s hand, tell another that the man she was after was hardly worth her time, to exchange tampons and lipgloss. Inge still carried tampons with her for this reason, even if she didn’t need them any more. 

And those things she was good at, but this? A woman crouching under a sink, looking absolutely overwhelmed with her surroundings. As if this was the first time she’d been a club. Distantly she remembered what it had been like, to venture into the city and go into a place like this for the first time. She’d gone to parties back in town, but they’d been held in sheds and living rooms, sometimes in the town cafe — and the attendants had all been familiar figures. Former babysitters, classmates, colleagues of her parents, the veterinarian and friends of her husband.

Going out in Amsterdam had been dizzying. Everything had been dizzying after she had been transformed, of course, but she had felt like this. That was so long ago now — Inge frequented clubs aplenty these days, found their noise and sounds comforting. 

She dried off her hands, looked down at the other woman. She spoke like she was stuck in a different era which might have made plenty raise their eyebrows. But Inge was an undead woman in an undead nightclub, so it wasn’t entirely out there. She gave a look of sympathy, something she extended primarily because she hoped the other was undead like her.

“Alright,” she said, crouching down a little. “Why don’t you get out from under there, huh?” She extended a hand. “I know this place like the back of my hand, so I can show you the way out.” Inge hadn’t planned on doing something like this tonight, but she found that life never seemed to go as planned as of late. “What’s your name? Did anyone bother you?”

—

The new world had really been something. Over the course of nearly four hundred years, Mercy had laid deep underground in a pine box that held dirt and decay leaving her with one struggle…keep her mind intact. There had been a lifetime’s worth of worry to dwell on for centuries having no answers and never having contact with anyone but bugs crawling over her slowly rotting form. In and out of her mouth on occasion. Over her eyes, in and out of her ears. Nibbling on her clothing and flesh. And at first, she would scream trying to shake off the creatures that scared her so, but as time passed, she had given in…allowed them to linger on her form considering it was as close to human touch and companionship as she could get. The millions of tiny legs and bodies over the years crawled around looking for food or a place to reside, all while she began to focus more on mental tasks and memories. Until finally, one day, there was just silence from giving up, except for the occasional hard thump, rumble, or rattle that shook the ground around her.

But now, here she was surrounded by too much noise. Too many people. Too much stimulation struggling to accept all of it and understand what it meant and why people were so different.

Leaning back slightly as she watched the other woman kneel down, Mercy was cautious. And as soon as she noticed her hand, she hesitated, before giving in and taking it. Managing to pull herself out and up, the petite woman straightened up in her posture, “Thankee. My name is Mercy, and what shall I call thee?” She looked with sad blue eyes in her direction, “Nay. No one hath bothered me.” It probably seemed absurd to someone such as the woman standing in front of Mercy, but here they both were having this strange interaction.

—

There was some kind of nurturing instinct within her still. Inge didn’t enjoy it when this instinct gave her responsibility, but that didn’t mean it didn’t prop up from time to time. She wasn’t wholly uncaring, after all — she cared for her fellow undead, in most cases, and even as a professor she didn’t mind being a bit of a guide. And so it made sense to extend a hand and be glad when it was taken, looking at the shaking woman with a hint of concern.

She continued to speak in that ancient way and it reminded her of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet, with all the flashing lights behind the door but the Shakespearean speech falling off her lips. Something about it was theatrical, but it was also not wholly strange in a world where people could live to be a thousand years old and not age a day. Inge moved a pluck of the other’s blonde hair behind her ear.

“I’m Inge,” she said. “And I am glad no one has bothered you.” She had a small inner debate on how to broach the subject of the other’s potential immortality. She let it go for now. It could be discussed outside. “Alright. We’re just going to get out of here now, okay?” She took her hand again. “Get some fresh air. I’ll guide the way.” She gave a small smile, used her free hand to open the bathroom door and welcome the sounds of the club, heavy bass pumping through her ears. She pushed past people with ease, as she was practiced in the art of moving through large masses and reached for the doors once she’d gotten there, letting go of Mercy’s hand as they got outside. “Better?”

—

Mercy, though apprehensive about leaving the safety of the bathroom, no matter how dingy it was, had felt something familiar and warm with the woman that stood in front of her. Her words were soft and kind. There were no harsh stares, just someone who spoke gently, compared to the other people who had milled about earlier in the bathroom not even noticing Mercy tucked away in her hiding space, “Tis a pleasure to meet thee, even under such circumstance. I am Mercy.” A small, subtle smile appeared across her face cutting through the sadness that lingered in her blue eyes.

At the request to leave, Mercy inhaled deeply and released a small sigh as she nodded in approval of the plan. And with a grip much tighter than before, she latched onto Inge and followed the other woman through the overwhelming loudness of the music and modern people to finally reach the outside of the club.

With the coolness of the night air hitting her face, she let out another sigh, but this time it was one of full relief. Mercy was free and safe. The music thumping inside the building was still somewhat intimidating and the people wandering around outside Dance Macabre made her somewhat nervous, but she was free from the modern prison of a cacophony of sounds and peculiar people, “Much better, aye. Thankee from freeing me from such a prison. How dost one stand such chaos?” She looked to Inge with genuine concern.

—

Mercy’s hand was cold in her own, which was to say, she was the same temperature. Inge knew some people were just coldblooded but this was a meeting place of the undead. She would take the leap, she decided, once they were outside. For now her goal was clear: she was to take this confused and lost woman outside, to lead her to a place where lights didn’t flash and music didn’t pump.

She laughed softly at the question Mercy asked once they were outside. She had been like this once, she kept telling herself. Overwhelmed and wide eyed. Wondering why people enjoyed places so crowded, so filled with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Back then people had smoked inside. Back then she had smoked inside. “You learn to like it, if you want. It’s nice to enjoy the music together. To find people …” She smiled. “To have fun.” 

She started to walk from the sound of the pulsing music, though, looking at Mercy to see if she was following. “So … and correct me if I’m wrong,” Inge said. It was dark out. She could disappear if this was a mistake. “But are you of the unaging kind? You seem much older than you look. And that is a compliment.”

—

Mercy looked back as people stumbled out of the club laughing. It was nice to see people enjoying themselves. To see happiness, when she had come from a stricter time. One of morals and standards you did not question out of fear of what could happen. People liked to talk, and Mercy hated being the subject of their talk, but it seemed that people in this day and age were more wrapped up in their own needs, then that of those around them. Of course, the vampire had only been present in this new, modern world for the briefest of moments, so she hadn’t discovered tabloid magazines and online trolls.

“Fun? I do not recall such a word.” It was true. The word hadn’t come around until the early 1700s when Mercy was already buried deep underground. And like the people leaving Dance Macabre, laughing and smiling was something she hadn’t done in quite a while. In fact, the only genuine smile she could remember recently was something Caleb had said. The moving people in the wall often made her laugh, but it was somewhat hollow and only because it got her mind off of things, “I hope to find enjoyment in life once more, when the shock of these modern times has dulled.”

Noticing Inge move forward, Mercy followed, “Aye. I hath not aged. At least as far as one can tell without being able to see one’s own reflection. I was born in 1657 and lived in Salem town, up until I was accused of being a witch. From there I fled to Wicked’s Rest, but fate hath determined an early grave after being accused of being a demon, in which I was laid to rest in a pine box where I hath been for nearly 400 years.” She looked towards the ground remembering what both Caleb and Alistair had warned against, but Inge had saved her, and she felt she had owed the woman an explanation.

—

There was a chance that this woman was some kind of cosplayer, a goth who committed to the bit very hard, but Inge doubted it. Mercy had seemed genuinely upset by the noise and chaos in the club and hadn’t seemed to be performing for any kind of audience. Besides, Inge had met people who were old before — vampires and mares who’d ran around the world for multiple centuries and weren’t able to shake the antiquity from their way of speaking. This seemed more like that.

“Maybe you’ll have to look somewhere else besides clubs, then. They aren’t for everyone.” She gave a little hint of a smile, glad that the other was walking with her. And then Mercy offered a kind of honesty that was dangerous in these parts — even though she had been the one with the forward questioning in the first place. She was nearly half a century old, it was hard to imagine such a life – especially such a life spent in a pine box.

She could not be a mare, then. If Inge had been buried alive for so long, she would have perished after a while due to starvation. Her mind flashed to Ariadne, locked in a van. It flashed to Italy, where she’d hungered  while trapped. “That’s horrible,” she said, “Fate …” She tsk-ed, halted and looked at Mercy. “There is no such thing as fate. Just ignorant and cruel humans. I’m sorry that happened to you.” She shook her head. “I’m undead too, for what it’s worth. A mare.” She looked over the other. She hoped this wasn’t a lie. She wondered if it was — but she knew how cruel hunters could be. She could still flee away if this woman was a hunter who knew how to play her cards. “And I am of the opinion our kind should stick together, hm? Watch each other’s backs. Maybe teach you a thing or two about this twenty first century.”

— Mercy was starting to relax and find comfort in Inge’s company. She had spoken harshly, but from the last days of the vampire’s time with the living, before being shoved in a box, there was some truth held in Inge’s words. However, Caleb had been kind. Even Alistair. The paths she had crossed so far held kindness, but the more she thought about it, including learning what Inge was – not that Mercy knew what a mare was, she was coming to find that everyone who had been kind had been far from being a mere human, “I suppose you speak truth in the regard of humans.” It was still an odd notion knowing she wasn’t technically a part of the living human world anymore.

“Preytell, Inge, but what is a mare?” Mercy looked to her new friend as they walked slowly down the sidewalk. There was still so much to learn in this world. More about vampires, such as herself, and the other creatures that seemed to roam the modern streets of Wicked’s Rest. But she wanted to learn. She wanted to know. If this was to be her new life, she had to know.

“I propose a deal. I shall teach thee of life in the 1600s, if thee shall be so kind as to teach me of life in the 2000s.” With a more confident smile, now that she was away from the booming nightlife of Wicked’s Rest, Mercy locked arms with her new friend. If there were more people like the Inges, Calebs, and Alistairs of the world, she had hoped she would cross paths with them sooner or later, because at least life in modern times wouldn’t be so lonely or so hard.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #40: Better Vermin

Masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, captivity, begging, broken bones

very short lil chapter!

-

The rat had been coming down into the bowels of the hunters’ compound for weeks, now. Kane was sure it was the same rat each time. He had little to entertain himself with in the scarce moments when he was not otherwise occupied with torture or exhausted sleep, and the rat was a welcome distraction from his miserable life.

Kane watched the little creature scurry around the hall. It never came when the hunters were here. He supposed he and the rat were alike in that way, both afraid of humans. It was probably hungry, too. He could empathize. He wished he had something to offer it.

That day, as he laid in his corner, the rat pattered into his cell. That was the first time it had done so.

Cautiously, slowly, he sat up. The rat paused a moment, then continued sniffing around the cell.

Kane extended a hand. The old him would have never done such a thing. The old him would have turned his nose up at such a creature. Vermin. But he was vermin too, now, and he longed desperately for any kind of connection not steeped in hostility and fear.

The rat did not approach him, briefly exploring the other side of the cell before exiting through the bars. Kane laid back down, alone once again.

-

That was far from the last time the rat visited him, crawling effortlessly between the silver bars, something Kane could never hope to do. After several tries extending his hand, the rat finally deigned to venture over and give his finger a sniff.

“Hello, there.” Kane whispered, eyes sparkling. The rat stopped sniffing and drew closer, seemingly content to label him a non-threat. Funny how it was so much more vulnerable than the humans, yet the only one who didn’t see him as a monster.

He gently ran his fingers over the rat’s pelt, making sure to move slowly so as not to scare it. He understood fear. Tears pooled in his eyes when the rat allowed him to do so, seeming to enjoy the petting.

The rat didn’t know about his crimes. It would never judge him for the man he used to be. He didn’t have to fight for a second chance. The rat simply accepted him as he was.

When it eventually scurried back out through the silver bars, Kane wished more than ever that he could follow it. Small enough to fit through, with skin that wouldn’t burn if he tried. If only he were the right kind of vermin.

-

The rat kept returning, becoming the highlight of Kane’s life, the only thing in his little world that wasn’t horrible. He cherished it more than anything. He wished he had something to offer it in return for its companionship, something more than petting, but he wasn’t in possession of anything an animal could eat.

Unfortunately, it seemed he’d gotten the little creature too comfortable. He spotted it padding across the floor while a duo of hunters debated what torment to enact on him next, his blood running cold at the sight.

Go away. Leave, little one. Don’t let them hurt you, too. I couldn’t bear it if they hurt you. Please, please leave. Kane prayed silently.

To his dismay, he wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

“Fuck, there’s a rat down here.” one of the hunters complained.

“Yeah, we should probably do something about that.” the one holding the whip agreed. “If they’re down here, they’ll get upstairs soon enough, and that’s a whole issue. I’ll call an exterminator.”

“NO!” Kane screamed. Exterminator. Exterminator. They’re going to exterminate it. “Please, please don’t hurt it! I’ll do anything!”

The rat startled at his volume, and Kane watched as it ran to the other side of the hall. Please get away. Please please please.

“Oh, that’s hilarious. The leech made friends with a rat. Guess vermin stick together, huh?” the one who offered to call the exterminator mocked.

Kane nodded, whimpering. “Please, sir. Please don’t hurt it, please.”

“Shut the fuck up, parasite, we’re not gonna hurt the damn rat. Unlike you, it’s innocent.” The other hunter kicked him in the side, and Kane keened as the boot’s impact aggravated his broken ribs.

“Th-thank you, sir. Thank you, thank you.” Kane babbled.

“I’m gonna try and take it outside.” the hunter continued. Kane watched with bated breath as the hunter cornered the rat, whose entrance and exit was apparently not in the area it had been startled into, before grabbing it. The rat squeaked in protest, and Kane could practically feel its fear, like their hearts were connected.

“Please don’t hurt it, sir!” Kane pleaded again, his anxiety flared now that the hunter held it in his cruel hands. “I’m b-better for hurting, please, I’ll do anything, please don’t!”

“Fucking chill out, I won’t.” the hunter snapped, disappearing upstairs with Kane’s only companion.

He startled as the remaining hunter snapped the whip. “Now, where were we?”

-

Kane didn’t see the rat again. Weeks later, he overheard a hunter mention a hole being sealed up, confirming his fears. The rat no longer had a way to access the inside of the building.

He was alone.

-

drabbles posted between #39 and #40:

Haircut

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[entenschildkrote]

So, I will analyze and compare the english and german intro song for school for vampires / die Schule der kleinen Vampire. I will add an english translation to the german lyrics. I listened to the intros on YouTube and wrote them down to the best of my abilities. If they are partly incorrect, I'm sorry.

English lyrics:

Sleeping in coffins we party all night

And just after sunset we go for a bite.

We may have never seen the sun

But any way else we're having fun.

It's so much fun just to be a vampire!

It's so much fun just to (verb*) through the night!

It's so much fun just to be a vampire

You should run and hide

I'm gonna bite

We're gonna bite (groweld)

*I could not understand the verb. It should be one about movement, probably fly

German text:

English translation:

Wir lernen kein Mathe und auch kein Latein

We don't learn math and neither latin

Bei uns zieht man sich dafür Blutsaugen rein.

With us one eats bloody eyes instead.

Vor Sonne und Knoblauch sind wir auf der Hut.

Of the sun and garlic we are wary.

Wir schlafen in Särgen und träumen von Blut.

We sleep in coffins and dream about blood.

Oke, wir sind ein bisschen blass.

Okay, we are a little pale.

Haben dafür aber reichlich Spaß.

But instead we have a lot of fun.

Nimm dich in acht, denn wir sind Vampire

Beware (the listener is directly adressed), because we are vampires

Und unser Kuss ist kälter als Eis.

And our kiss is colder than ice.

Nimm dich in acht, denn wir sind Vampire.

Beware (the listener is directly addressed), because we are vampires.

Du wirst kreideweiß / kreidebleich

You'll turn white / pale as chalk

Wenn ich dich beiß!

If / When I bite you!

Wenn ich dich beiß!

If / When I bite you!

Wenn ich dich beiß!

If / When I bite you!

Wenn ich dich beiß! (geflüstert)

If / When I bite you! (whispered)

First things first: the german version is longer by four lines. Two of those being the first two (Wir lernen... - ...Blutsaugen rein.). Those two lines could only be heard for the first season, afterwards they were removed. The other two are repeats of "Wenn ich dich beiß".

Another thing, that immediately caught my eye (ear in this case) was the english version's emphasis on fun, where the german version emphasized caution (in humans and vampires alike).

I interpreted the song with the idea in mind, that it was sung by a vampire to a human audience. I got that impression because of the usage of the pronouns I and We when referring to vampire culture and you would not need to explain such basic facts to a member of vampire society.

Okay, the german lines without an english counterpart:

Wir lernen kein Mathe und auch kein Latein; Bei uns zieht man sich dafür Blutsaugen rein.

We don't learn math and neither latin; With us one eats bloody eyes instead.

These lines are partly incorrect. While the vampires in sfv do, in fact learn different things to humans (obviously), they do, in fact, learn math: In one episode it cuts into a lesson during which the vampires are supposed to CALCULATE how much blood has been shed during a specific battle. In another episode Stoker claims Oskar stole his blood cookies. He could not have done that, though, because he was busy doing Klott's homework. To verify this claim, the count reads out the questions for Klott to solve, wich are, you guessed it, math problems (very easy ones). I do think they don't learn latin, because in one episode a (painfully incompetent and unprofessional) psychologist comes to school and clains Oskar has the worst kind of blood phobia: Blut(us) Vermeid(us). Essentially Blood(is) avoid(us) (Blut=blood, vermeiden=to avoid). The second line is accurate: they ate bloody eye soup that night the werewolf visited. "(Sich etwas) Reinziehen" is german slang most closely translated by to consume.

Vor Sonne und Knoblauch sind wir auf der Hut. / Wir schlafen in Särgen und träumen von Blut

Of the sun and garlic we are wary. / We sleep in coffins and dream about blood.

Sleeping in coffins we party all night / and just after sunset we go for a bite

The german lines are factually correct. Vampires in sfv are harmed by garlic and sunshine and they do sleep in coffins. Whether or not they dream of blood, we do not know (it is possible).

The english lyrics contain mostly false information. The vampires do sleep in coffins but they don't party all night because they have school. The protagonists of the show are under age and therefore not allowed to bite people. They don't even wake up "just after sunset", because in the first episode Count von Horrifikus wanted to be woken "early" and Professor Oxblood woke him during sunset.

Oke, wir sind ein bisschen blass / haben dafür aber reichlich Spaß.

Okay, we are a little pale / but instead we have a lot of fun.

We may have never seen the sun / but any way else we're having fun.

The german and english versions are surprisingly similar in these two lines. That makes the differences that do exist even more interesting. In general, the german version is understated, while the english version is hyperbolic. The vampires are more than a little pale, they are very pale. The vampires also haven't literally never seen the sun (e. g. They have vampire sunscreen, all the vampires that sre now ash, turned(not born) vampires). Another thing is, the german makes it sound like being pale is the price they had to pay in order to have fun. In the english version, it sound more like seeing the sun would be fun but since they can't, they have fun with other things.

Nimm dich in acht, denn wir sind Vampire / und unser Kuss ist kälter als Eis

Beware (the listener is directly addressed), because we are vampires / And our kiss is colder than ice.

It's so much fun just to be a vampire! / It's so much fun just to (verb*) through the night!

This is what i meant, claiming the english version has a greater fokus on fun, where the german version focuses on caution. The german version advises the listener to be aware of vampires, when the english version claims it is fun to be one. Also, the german version adresses the listener directly. I'm not sure if the "colder than ice" is hyperbolic (they can't literally be colder than ice) but they might be colder than humans. They do seem to have a body temperature and a reaktion to temperature, since Gothetta gave Oskar a scarf when he was sick, they wear different clothes in winter and I think they complained about the heat in summer.

Du wirst kreideweiß / kreidebleich / Wenn ich dich beiß! / Wenn ich dich beiß! (geflüstert)

You'll turn white / pale as chalk / If / When I bite you! / If / When I bite you! (whispered)

You should run and hide / I'm gonna bite / We're gonna bite (groweld)

I find these lines to be really interesting, because the german and english versions are more and less direct in different ways. The line "you should run and hide" might imply that running and hiding is a good strategy to avoid getting bitten. It might also imply that running and hiding is futile, because if the vampire thinks you should, then they probably think it won't stop them from biting you. In the next line, it becomes clear that the vampire(s) will bite. Maybe, they bite those, who didn't run and/or hide.

The german version tells the listener what will happen if they get bitten. The interesting ting is, the german word "wenn" can mean both "if" and "when". So , in the german version the vampire clearly states they consider biting the listener. It is unclear if this is a possibility or an inevitability. In the english version, the vampire biting is an inevitability but it is unclear who they will bite.

An interesting ting overall, is the english version not using the word blood in the whole song, despite having no qualms about references to biting (the word bite appears three times overall). The german version uses the word Blut (ger. blood) twice. Once in the scrapped first two lines and once in the forth line. The word "beiß" (form of beißen = to bite) appears four times.

All in all, the german version is more lore accurate than the english version. I think it's curious, how different the two versions are content wise (despite being very similar in the musical aspects).

If anyone read the whole post, thank you. Check out the post below mine in the #schule der kleinen Vampire, it is really cool. Goodbye, have a nice day.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With J (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

Jack Skellington - venuslester

Summary: Dan gets overly excited about Phil being dressed up as Jack Skellington in his Christmas video.

Japan 2.0 - paradisobound

Summary: Phil decides to plan a trip to Japan for Dan because he wants to propose to him.

japhan pt deux - tobieallision

Summary: ‘there was a tiny black box in the zip of Dan’s bag that he thought of pulling out now’

Jealous Minds Think Alike - howellslester

Summary: Dan hires a muscular personal trainer and Phil (Dan’s boyfriend) gets jealous because he thinks he’s not as good looking as the trainer.

Jealousy - phanlight

Summary: Phil is in love with Dan, but Dan is unsure as to whether he feels the same. He’s been straight all his life, and had never known any different. But will changes in Phil suddenly reveal what Dan was hiding all along?

Jetlag (ao3) - GracefulasHell

Summary: Dan falls asleep on Phil's shoulder and Phil kind of panics.

Joined at the hip (ao3) - TheDalmatian

Summary: Dan and Phil are secretly aliens from another planet and they came down and they have to stay together because they’re symbiotes and they have to live off of each other.

Join the Ride - cactiphan

Summary: During a long drive back from a road trip with Phil’s friends, Dan gets antsy for his daddy and ends up riding him in the bus as everyone watches.

Jottings - valdimire

Summary: Phil just shows enough of himself, just enough to make people believe that he is alright.

Joy Of Man’s Desiring (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: in which piano sex.

June In January (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: It's Phil's birthday. You know how the rest of this goes.

June’s Good, But October… (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Phil really lets it all out for Dan’s birthday present, literally and figuratively.

June Twenty-First - placingglaciers

Summary: It’s the beginning summer, they are young and adventurous, and some bad news slips out. But that’s okay.

Just a Little Painful, but the Good Kind - nightospherian

Summary: Dan makes love bites on Phil in obvious places, and Phil doesn’t notice until afterwards.

Jumping On the Bandwagon Isn’t So Bad (ao3) - ticklishraspberries

Summary: Dan decides to jump on the ‘boys in crop tops’ trend.

Jumping Puddles (ao3) - MercurialHolmes

Summary: Phil wants to chase it down and live it for himself, for all of the stories from his children's books have got to start coming true at some point.

Right?

Just Add Water - gorgeousdan

Summary: The rebellious teenage mermaid Dan is fascinated with life on land. On one of his visits to the surface, which are forbidden by his controlling father, King Howell, he falls for a human prince, Phil Lester. Determined to be with his new love, Dan makes a dangerous deal with the sea witch Nash Grier to become human for three days. But when plans go awry for the star-crossed lovers, the king must make the ultimate sacrifice for his son.

Just A Fang Thang - phancyphanfiction

Summary: Dan thinks his neighbor, Phil, is a vampire.

Just A Legend - cozyfoxy

Summary: Dan and his friends are having a sleepover and decide after reading a legend about a nearby graveyard on the computer to go to the graveyard and see if anything actually happens.

Just a Little Addicted - JenCollins1

Summary: Dan and Phil have been friends for years now. They have strong feelings for each other. But they keep their eyes closed. One day everything changed. and not for the best. it all goes to the wrong way for both of them. but maybe not so wrong.

[satoshi-mochida]

SaGa Emerald Beyond announced for PS5, PS4, Switch, PC, iOS, and Android

Gematsu Source

Square Enix has announced SaGa Emerald Beyond for PlayStation 5, PlayStation 4, Switch, PC, iOS, and Android. It will launch digitally in early 2024 worldwide.

Here is the official press release information:

SaGa Emerald Beyond is an all-new original adventure in the acclaimed SaGa RPG franchise. Featuring music from iconic series composer Kenji Ito and artwork from acclaimed illustrator Satoshi Kuramochi, SaGa Emerald Beyond brings together the core combat and free-form scenario elements of the beloved RPG franchise to deliver the ultimate SaGa experience to fans and newcomers alike. SaGa Emerald Beyond features an eclectic cast of heroes from vastly different worlds, with five distinct and dramatic stories to experience. Players will select any of the six protagonists to begin their story with, and guided by mysterious emerald waves, will explore 17 strikingly beautiful worlds where you can meet a diverse cast of races, including monsters, mechs, and vampires, forging their own story. SaGa Emerald Beyond expands on the free-form scenario system the SaGa franchise is renowned for, offering the player the greatest amount of freedom to shape their own story to date, with each tale branching outwards based on their choices and actions. The game also features strategic turn-based combat system, offering the best iteration of the SaGa franchise’s combat. Players can choose to begin their story as one of the following protagonists. Each possesses the rare ability to see emerald waves that present choices of their destinies:

Tsunanori Mido – A man who can manipulate kugutsu, or animated puppets, which protect the barrier around his home, Miyako City. When the city is plagued by all kinds of supernatural phenomena, Tsunanori embarks on a journey to other worlds to find four elemental spirits in order to restore order to the spiritual realm.

Ameya – A witch-in-training who visits Miyako City and lives in secret as a schoolgirl as a part of her graduation exam. After Ameya is attacked by an unknown man, she loses practically all of her magical power and must find a way to regain what was lost and pass her final exam.

Siugnas – An immortal vampire who rules over Yomi, a world shrouded in darkness, as the Dismal King. However, after being betrayed and driven from his throne, Siugnas finds himself in Brighthome—the gathering place of dead warriors—and must set out on a journey to recover his powers alongside the other warriors in his squadron.

Diva No.5 – A songstress mech designed to sing and dance from the world of Avalon. After singing a forbidden song, however, Diva’s memory and singing functionality are sealed away, causing her to lose her livelihood and music itself. In her despair, Diva discards her “human” body and, going with the flow, accepts an invitation from a secret society, leaving Avalon behind.

Bonnie and Formina – Two new recruits and partners on the Capitol City police force who are investigating an assassination attempt on the President. With a key person of interest’s claim that the president is a traitor and a mysterious triangle piece as their only clues, they set off on a journey through other worlds to uncover the hidden truth behind the incident.

And here is the game’s store description:

About

The latest standalone entry in the SaGa franchise, SaGa Emerald Beyond, brings together the very best elements of the beloved series to offer each player their own unique gameplay experience. Make use of glimmers and combos in battle; meet a diverse cast of races, including monsters, mechs, and vampires; and experience your very own story, created through your choices and actions.

Distant Worlds Woven Together

Travel to 17 unique worlds from the Junction, either led by the hand of destiny or by a path forged by your own choices. Discover the completely different cultures and landscapes, ranging from a densly developed forest of skyscrapers and a green and lucious habitat covered in plantlife to a world governed by five witches, or one ruled by vampires–just to name a few of the distict settings.

An Eclectic Cast of Protagonists

Six leading characters, all from diverse backgrounds and with vastly different goals, set out on their journey in five unique story arcs. They venture to the myriad of worlds for their very personal reasons: One, a human on a mission to protect the barrier defending his city; another, a witch trying to regain her lost magic while maintaining her disguise as a schoolgirl; and yet another, a vampire lord out to regain his crown and reclaim the throne as the rightful king of his world. Even Selecting the same protagonist for a second—or third or fourth—playthrough will lead to completely new events and stories, a completely fresh path and experience.

A Story of Your Very Own Making

SaGa Emerald Beyond has the greatest number of branching plots of any game in the SaGa series. The story branches abundantly depending on your choices and actions. Every time you visit a world, the story will evolve, allowing the protagonist and player alike to discover new possibilities. As the story unfolds in this way it becomes a tale all your own, not only affecting the path you walk but also the multiple potential endings that await each protagonist.

Battles where a Single Choice Can Change Everything

SaGa Emerald Beyond further refines the highly strategic Timeline Battles the SaGa franchise has been long renowned for. With series mainstays such as the skill to spontaneous acquire abilities through the Glimmer system, tactical ally placement known as Formations, and United Attacks that enable individual skills to connect together to form devastating chain attacks, it offers the best iteration of SaGa‘s turn-based combat to date. The new combat system adds more drama than ever before, allowing you to support party members, interrupt enemy actions, and use United Attacks by strategically manipulating the order of ally actions. The characters that join you, the weapons you wield, your party formation, and your tactics in battle—everything is up to you!

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery. Visit the official website here.

Announce Trailer

English

Japanese

[sophiethewitch1]

Chpt. 7 - Witch With A B

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None in particular. 

A/n: Sorry I forgot tumblr exists. In other words you get four new chapters so nice? Also, comment or msg me if you want to be added to the future taglist!

Your trudging through the snow is, as it always fucking is, miserable. Asa is in your arms again, because he can't walk with the rotting affecting him. He's chewing on a cooked piece of rabbit, silent as he watches you suffer.

And, shit, you are suffering.

As if God himself has come down from the heavens just to make you a little more miserable, the snow falls harder. White powder catches on your eyelashes, and you rapidly blink away the distraction. Your hands burn with the freezing air, the pressure you put on them after being literally impaled is not helping much. You were surprised they hadn't fallen off, from frostbite, infection or some other malignant disease.

Still, you trudged on. You were close to the hag's new hideout now, you'd started to see signs of her work in the woods around you. Hanging talismans, runes carved into tree trunks, an uncomfortable amount of skeletal carcases. You didn't know what half the things she did meant, but you knew they made everyone uncomfortable. Human and vampire alike.

The first part was probably intentional, the second part not so much. She'd welcome any vampire into her abode, and probably thought the bodies were welcoming. You wouldn't tell her they weren't, because you wouldn't like to bump into a blood-sucker on one of your visits. They fucking sucked well enough already.

The rustling of wood and feathers behind your ear draws your attention, and you huff. Looking over your shoulder you find Asa playing with your arrows, chewing on both feathered edges and rabbit bone.

"Asa, I told you to stop playing with those. They're dangerous," you chide, and he barely gives you a glance before going back to his incredibly fatal playtime. You sigh, shifting his head to your other side. He goes to cry, but the start of his wail is stopped by your stumbling.

He pauses, sniffing the air, and says-

"You're bleeding, Baba."

You take a deep breath of biting air at his words. That's probably why your hands hurt so much. Your wounds had reopened, and you were running out of bandages and disinfectant. Fuck, you don't know what to do.

You take another breath, like that'll make this all easier. Pausing in the wintery woods, you slowly let Asa down. The snow creaks under his boots, and you watch fang dig deep into bone. He leaves little bite marks along the side of it, another casual show of his supernatural power.

"Thanks for pointing that out, baby," you say, unwrapping your hands slowly from his little form. He pouts, but doesn't complain. You sometimes wish he would more, but not today. Today you were thankful for his careful silence, watching you like a hawk.

Looking down at your hands, you can see your bandages have cleanly bled through. You sigh at all the blood, wondering how much longer Asa could last before he had... an episode. If that's what you could call it, but you knew the true term the vampires used.

'Bloodlust.'

It was something you staved off with lots of raw meat and filling human food, but you were all too aware of the red eyes that followed your movements. Asa didn't want to hurt you, and you had faith in that above all else.

You didn't have faith in a child's self control, however.

After all, your blood was delicious, that's what he always said, anyway.

A crunch in the snow has your head whipping upwards, but when Asa doesn't pay the newcomer any attention, your shoulder's relax. Through the snow you see a familiar figure, a hunched crone with a staff in one wrinkled, many ringed hand. The woman you'd been looking for had come to greet the two of you herself. You feel a tired smile tug at your lips when you hear Asa's low growl.

Asa isn't scared of her, but he certainly doesn't like her, moving to shuffle behind you.

"My, my, is that you again, podzhigatel'?" the familiar Russian nickname falls from her lips, and you can't help the small flare of pride with the title. You had many nicknames, but this was your favourite. 'Hunter' didn't speak to your accomplishments, but the word the witch spoke did.

Arsonist. That's what it meant. Even if she spits it with disgust, you choose to take it as a compliment.

The crone's eyes flicker down past your legs to where Asa hides, and she gives him a grin with missing teeth. He hisses at her, reminding you faintly of the street cats you used to feed. Ah, damn this old bitch. She brought far too many memories with her sweeping robes and wicked grins.

"And malen'koye sokrovishche too, of course!" she reaches the hand not holding the staff out to Asa, but you slap it away.

She looks up, the smile she wore dropping into a scowl. You return her glare, knowing not to let this crazy woman a single step closer to you son. She leans back at this, giving an eye roll as she stretches to her full height. Or well, what she can, at least.

"Do you have anything for me today, or are you just here to eat my food and take up space?" she asks you, and you hide your wince. Your deal with the Witch of the North was a simple one. She helped you with Asa and all of his quirks, and you gave her... supplies.

Fresh ones, usually.

"...Rogues are skittish, an Abomination has been roaming," you reply, and she scoffs at that.

"They always are at this time of year. Your excuses are getting worse. Any blood?"

You bite into your lip, shaking your head.

She places her hands on the staff, nodding her head in a mocking way. This hag had never once cared for your life, and simply saw Asa as a way of furthering her goals. You didn't think she knew what empathy was.

"And you still won't give me the boy?"

In seconds you have a knife to her throat, rage burning in your chest. She laughs, waving her hand like you're old friends, not someone about to be slain and the slayer. She gives you a wink and says-

"I'd put that down if I were you. You well know I'm the only one who can help you - for whatever idiotic reason you've come here again," she croons, and you clench your jaw so tight that your ears ring. Still, you drop the blade to your side, not holstering it away just yet.

"I'll do it one day," you promise, and she claps her hands together, giggling.

"I hope you do! The great Hunter chasing me down and slaughtering me? My, it'd be a memory I'd cherish even in death!" she said with all the cheer of someone who had actually completely lost their mind. She was almost as irritating as Creel, and the only reason he was ahead of her was because of his simple obliviousness to how annoying he was.

You huff, shaking your head.

"I don't have anything to pay you," you say, and you suppress the shudder that rolls through you at the cunning grin she offers in return. She reaches her hand out again, palm splayed upwards to the falling snow.

"A debt then?"

Now, you weren't stupid. Debts were in the realm of the other, and the witch wasn't just called that for show. She had powers you didn't understand, and they terrified you. Her magic was closely intertwined with the same magic the blood-suckers used. Debts, truths and lies, names... All of it she wielded tight in her grasp.

An open ended debt was truly open ended. You would have to pay it back, you would be physically forced to by something you, human you, could never truly understand.

You were no fool. But you were desperate, and sometimes that was the same thing.

You take her hand, and with the other pull down your collar, showing the faded mark on your neck. In between the scars from the teeth digging into your skin shines a faint mark, almost glowing in the afternoon light.

The witch gasps, a delighted smile stretching over her cracked lips.

The inside of the Witch's house was as miserable as always. Rotted wood and foetid air, not to mention the miserable cold. The hag pushes at your back, shoving you further into the darkness. She takes a box of matches from her pocket and moves around the room, lighting a litany of candles. The warm glow doesn't make the space any more comfortable, revealing the interior of her hut.

Considering she moved so often it was a wonder why she always chose the most miserable places to shack up. You think it's a matter of aesthetics in this case. After all, a nice abandoned mansion wouldn't fit her jars of organs and fanged skulls.

She ushers you towards the table in the middle of the room, where you take a seat, pulling Asa into your lap. The crone takes to the back of the room, pulling dried herbs and strange salves from her shelves.

"So, who's the man of the hour? Or a woman perhaps? I don't know much about vampire proclivities when it comes to their fated-partners," she asks over her shoulder, and you wince. You weren't interested in telling her the details, merely in finding a way to get this mark off you.

You'd have carved a chunk out of your neck if you thought it would do anything, but the other humans you'd seen forced into this who'd tried that had just seen the mark pop up somewhere else on their skin. It was similar to a curse in that respect. And other ways too.

Because now that vampire would inevitably track you down, no matter where you ran. You didn't quite understand how the mark worked, but from what you did get, it seemed to almost have a compass-like system in it. He'd know whichever direction you were in at all times, as if you were his true north.

"That's none of your business," you cooly answer, and she grunts an answer.

"So be it. Blood sample, dearie?" she shrugs off your standoffish ways without a care, and you eye the needle in her hand. Your shoulders tense, your teeth dig into the skin inside your mouth, and you hear Asa growl. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of mould and earth. The witch watches you with a predator-like curiosity, and that doesn't help your anxiety.

Calm down. Relax, relax, relax, relax, relax, relax-relaxrelaxrelaxrelaxrelax-

You weren't there. You weren't inside the Walls. Gradually, your shoulders drift from where they were bunched up beside your ears, and you summon the balls to continue this unpleasant conversation.

"Is that one new?" you ask.

She grins, reaching her other hand out for you to offer your arm. You don't, simply staring at her in waiting. After a moment her grins falls into a wicked scowl.

"You know I treat you with the utmost care. Frankly, I'm hurt by your actions, podzhigatel."

You give her a disapproving look, tucking Asa tighter in your grasp.

"You have a seventy percent mortality rate, witch," you reply, and she laughs, shaking her head.

"But I do not care about those patients! You, however, are as precious as our little treasure here!" she coos at Asa, wiggling her old fingers at him, and you wonder if he's going to try and bite her finger off. When he lunges forward, teeth sharp, you don't protest. You do sag a little when the crone manages to make sure she doesn't lose a digit, darting backwards.

Well, her words do seem true. Still, you don't offer your arm, and Asa doesn't offer any extra of your space.

She sighs, looking at you like you're a petulant child. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing you've been doing it far too much lately. Maybe they'll roll into the back of your skull and get stuck one day.

You think Creel will be the one to doom you to such a fate.

"Yes, yes, yes. You stupid thing, of course it's a new needle. I can't have you dying of a blood disease off somewhere in the middle of the woods, can I? Especially not now with..." her words trail off, eyes naturally flowing to the hidden juncture of your neck. You hate how giddy she is about it, but there's literally no one else to go to, so here you were.

Extending your arm, averting your eyes from the syringe.

The tiny pin-prick in your arm is infinitesimally small compared to the rest of the pain you've experienced in the past few days, yet it feels like the worst you've experienced in your life. It doesn't make any sense, but it doesn't need to. Creel often talked to you about the affects of trauma in his gang, and he'd once even whispered to you about the nightmares that plagued his sleep. You knew why it was.

That didn't mean you didn't fucking hate this weakness, that you didn't hate the fact you couldn't lash out and kill this evil fucking bitch. That you didn't hate the memories that flick past you like one of the DVDs you and Asa sometimes find.

That you didn't hate the sight of white sterile walls and blood drips, the lines of weathered, weak humans ready to be harvested like livestock.

"All done!" the crone chirps, and you feel the words like a slap. You blink away visions of things that aren't there, head lightly craning as you get a feel for where you are. You're breathing heavily, and Asa is whining into your arms. You strangle down a rope around your fear, hand curling through his golden locks to reassure both him and you.

That you aren't there. Not any more.

She gives the blood a delicate look, hums approvingly, and turns to the rest of her workshop. She starts to assemble the gathering of herbs and your blood, pulling them over to the table which you sit at so the two of you can watch. She's that type of person after all.

Plucking apart leaves and grinding floral herbs in her mortar, she, unfortunately, opens her mouth again.

"So? Are you going to tell me about the bonding, podzhigatel?" she asks without looking up at you, going about her task in a surprisingly methodical manner. If she didn't you would never come to her, but it still shocks you every time she starts one of her spells.

She doesn't seem like a competent person, but everyone has their things, you suppose.

"Will that be necessary?" you ask with a grimace, and she tilts her head to the side, making a grand show of thinking. We all do it, woman.

"Yes, actually. I do think it will be. A bond is something even I don't quite understand, much less those fools locked inside their towers. It's a very personal thing, a welding of two souls-"

"Okay, that's enough," you cut her off, and she cackles.

"Was it not very romantic, dearie? I can't imagine someone like the great Hunter would be very willing to let a vampire bite them," she says, snickering at the very thought. No, you wouldn't call that regrettable meeting 'romantic'. Not that you knew what that was, of course, but you still didn't get butterflies in your stomach thinking about the way your home had been ransacked and you'd nearly been killed or enslaved.

No, that wasn't your idea of romantic.

"There were two of them," is the first thing you say, and even that makes the witch pause.

"Truly?"

You tilt your head to the side, analysing her suddenly shifty expression. You didn't like the look of curiosity on her face on a good day, and especially on a day like this one.

"Yes. One of them was the one who..." you gesture vaguely at your neck, and the hag seems even more interested.

"The other didn't bite you?" she asks, dropping a handful of garlic flowers into the mixture.

You think back, but can't remember if he did. You don't think he did, at least. But your memories were hazy, as was common with extreme blood loss.

"I can't recall if he did," you answer, and she hums under her breath. She makes a waving hand gesture, telling you to get on with what you did remember of the story.

"They were both elder vampires. I don't know how I managed to fool them, but for a while they thought I was a vampire too."

"Probably the scent of their soulmate messing with their heads," she says, her words muttered like she's thinking outloud. You frown, knowing that can't be it because only one - a flash of silver hair in your mind - marked you. And you knew enough about soulmates that you only got one of those, not two.

"But only one of them marked me."

She hums again, tilting your blood into the mixture now. Only a few drops fall in, but a wifty, dark smoke seems to travel upwards from the mortar. It looks like a black smoke, but you know it's something unnatural, and you have to suppress a shiver at the sight.

"My mistake, then. You must've gotten very lucky. Keep going, podzhigatel, I'm interested now."

Her response makes you unnerved, but you can't quite spot why. So instead, you continue on with your tale.

"I lured them towards where my best traps were, and then it's sort of... blank. I can't remember much else, but I know Creel saved us and one of them... bit my neck," you finish, and a glazed look falls over the hag's eyes. You wait for her to say something, but as you do, her eyes slowly grow white, and you realise something strange is happening here. Her eyelids flutter closed, and your shoulder's tense, something niggling at the bottom of your spine. Her eyes snap open.

"Duck."

And then, the roof caves in.

-

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