#CW: brief mention of cooking flesh

[msv0id]

CW:Mentions Of Cannibalism, Cooking Flesh and Flesh burning.

Jung cannot possibly fuck with Eyeless Jack, nothing against the guy, he's a chill man but, Jung cannot stand him nor be in the same room as him whenever he cooks the flesh of his dead victims. It would just remind him of his own layer of skin burning off during the “accident”.

[nina-ya]

Hello!!! AAA okokok hear me out,

some wholesome and protective Marco X reader where the reader gets distracted and cuts her finger cooking.

With the prompts:

42- “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

46- “You’re hurt. Please just let heal it.”

Your writing is amazing <3!!!

A/N: RAINNNNNN AAAAA I am being dragged down into the Marco trenches because of you I swear thank you so much for requesting I really had a lot of fun with this!! <3<3 The prompts came from here!! Pairing: Marco X Reader CW: Mentions of slicing a finger and stitches. WC: 733 In the middle of the night, you found yourself sneaking into the kitchen, a craving compelling you to whip up a midnight snack. The soft glow of the kitchen lights encompassed the room as you gathered ingredients.

The calmness you were experiencing was shattered by an unexpected noise coming from beyond the kitchen walls. Startled, you turned your attention away for a moment, a misstep that led to the knife in your hand slipping. You softly gasped as the blade met flesh, and a searing pain shot through your finger. The knife fell from your grasp, clattering against the kitchen tiles.

Luckily, the source of the noise turned out to be none other than Marco. His concerned gaze fixed on you as he approached.

"Whoa, hey, what happened?" he asked, his voice reassuring as he closed the distance between you two.

Wincing, you grasped your injured hand, blood welling up from the cut. "I was just making a snack, and I... I cut myself," you explained, your voice laced with pain.

Marco's gentle touch cradled your injured hand, concern etched across his features as he inspected the cut. He empathetically grimaced as his experienced eyes analyzed the wound.

"This is quite the cut you've gotten yourself," he says. Leaning in, he examines the wound more closely. "Hmm, yeah, it's pretty deep. Come on, let's get out of here so I can get you stitched up."

You quickly try to dismiss his concerns. "No, it's fine, really! I can just finish this up here, and I'll be back to bed soon," you insist, attempting to downplay the severity of the injury.

A sigh escapes Marco, disappointment clouding his gaze as he insists, "Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen."

"If you loved me, you'd tell me this is just a scratch and let me be," you retort.

However, Marco's expression remains flat, his gaze unwavering. After a brief, silent standoff, you finally back down. "Okay, okay, fine," you concede, stepping out of the kitchen with Marco in tow behind you. 

After successfully coaxing you out of the kitchen, Marco leads you to a more comfortable spot to tend to your injury. He settles you down on a chair as he retrieves a first aid kit.

"This is really unnecessary, Marco," you insist, holding onto your stubbornness. "Just some gauze will do. I don't need stitches."

He glances at you, an amusement in his eyes as he responds, "I've seen my fair share of wounds. Trust me, this needs stitches."

You scoff, folding your arms in defiance. "It's just a little cut. Gauze will be fine. No need to make a big deal out of it."

Marco, however, remains unfazed by your attempts to downplay the situation. "You're hurt. Please just let me heal it," he insists, a gentle insistence  present in your voice. He approaches you with a sterile needle and thread, ready to mend the wound with the care only a skilled doctor and a loving partner can provide.

As Marco preps the needle and thread, you persist in your attempts to avoid the inevitable. "Marco, seriously, this is overkill. I've had worse, trust me," you argue, trying to reason with him.

He glances up, meeting your gaze with a soft smile. "I know you're tough, but that doesn't mean you have to endure unnecessary pain. Let me take care of you."

You roll your eyes, though a small grin betrays your annoyance. "You just like playing doctor, don't you?"

Marco chuckles, "Maybe I do."

His words soften your resistance, but you still play the stubborn card. "I'm telling you, I've survived worse without stitches."

He raises an eyebrow, "Survived, yes. But you're not just anyone. You're my person, and I want you in one piece."

You concede with a deep sigh. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you when you find out it was unnecessary."

His laughter fills the room. "I'll take that risk," He says as he starts to stitch up your wound. He lovingly lectures you about not using knives in the middle of the night, all while his skilled hands patches you up. Deep down inside, though, the both of you know that you're probably going to be in this position once more in due time, and yet he will gladly be there for you to patch up every bump and bruise.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

What is the 'wild card' option do?

from Headcanon Game - A to Z (NSFW)

It means I get to share a sexy headcanon of my choosing, so of course it's gonna be scar related 😎

(This is not the aforementioned scar headcanon post. Still working on that one.)

⚠️ cw: here be more angst than smut 😅, torture mentions

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Scars: he’s covered in them—from his scalp to the soles of his feet. Joker made use of nearly every square inch of flesh available on his “canvas” for his “artwork” 😞 Jay doesn’t want them seen: by himself, by others, by you especially. He feels like anyone can read his entire humiliating history from his scars, because all he sees are flashing advertisements for his many failures, for his cowardice, for his weakness. So he wears hats and hoodies, long sleeves, pants, and even gloves year-round (sexy driving gloves in the warmer months 😎). He’ll let you tug down his pants and boxer briefs to his thighs, but that’s as much of his ruined flesh as he wants showing, especially since he’s already feeling emotionally vulnerable when you two are intimate.

Touching his scars brings up a knotted tangle of emotions in him. They’re ultra sensitive. Not physically, per se, but the sensation reminds him that they’re there, reminds him of what happened to him. He remembers all of the times he “let” Joker touch him… how the man would trace the ridges of scar tissue almost tenderly, admiring his masterpiece, his plaything, his boy toy… His… and that godawful feeling makes him want to puke. But then you touch them—the crude mockery of the Robin logo carved into his breast, the puckered “HAHAHA” cut into his stomach, the Clown’s laugh permanently imprinted into his flesh—you trace them gently, absently with your fingertip while you rest your head on his shoulder in bed, and he can’t help but feel as though you’re reclaiming them and him from the Clown.

You place a soft kiss on his brand, and immediately that red hot iron is sinking into his cheek again—he can feel the Clown’s cruel fingers twisted into his matted hair, yanking back his head, can hear his wail of agony echoing off the walls of his torture chamber, can smell his flesh as it cooks, can taste the salt of his tears pouring down his permanently disfigured face—but then it’s your fingers combing through his hair, your soothing voice reminding him you want him, love him even, it's the scent of your perfume filling his nose, the taste of you lingering on his lips…

Over time you carve out much of the hatred, the pain, the blackness left by the Clown, and fill that hollowed out shell back up with your love, your loyalty, your light… and he trusts that you see more than the scars that litter his naked body… that you don’t see him as a coward or a failure, that you’ll never abandon him like the others he thought had loved him, that you don’t care about his past mistakes, only his future. With you 💕

(A/N: GOD, I could talk about his scars all day long, hehe. I love that he finds them disgusting, while all of us find them sexy as hell 😋)

[smolghostbot]

Battle Against A True Hero: Finale

Did I say three-parter last time? I meant four. But then I decided to put the final two together because I think it flows better that way. So here's a twofer. Part 3 is a retelling of Part 2 from Contralto's POV, and then Part 4 is the proper conclusion.

Link to Part 1

Word Count: 1.7k combined Contralto character reference CWs: Brief allusions to a minor neck injury. Taglist (By request!): @reborrowing

======

Part 3

… What's… that noise…? Ack! I fell asleep out in the open! But… perfect, the human's nowhere to be seen, and I'm still here… they must not have noticed me.

But where are they… ah! Over there, by the, uh, the oven! I've seen this before, the human is cooking breakfast. I could sneak attack! But… that's not very heroic, only villains do that. What to say to announce my presence… something cool, for sure. What would a hero do… ahem…

“So… the human has finally arrived! Are you prepared to meet justice?”

No, wait, that's terrible, I should have prepared it… what?

“Gimme one second, and then I’ll listen to your heroic speech again, okay?"

Ah, perfect, the human didn't even hear it! Okay, time to plan… not like there's anything else to do, getting up here took a lot of effort. Hm, I could mention my goals again, heroes always do that… Okay, remember the titles, Hero of the Sprites, Defender of the Helpless, the Hero Who Never Gives Up… should I switch the order? No, no, I have to commit. A real hero always introduces themself the same way. Okay, wait, human's coming!

-

"Would you like some?"

Blegh! Of course not! How could humans even stomach such a horrible thing! The smell of burned flesh… it was making her sick just being so close to it…

“Oh, you’re like vegetarian or something? I should have thought of that… sorry. I have, uh, I can make some toast? It’s like bread, but-”

And now they mock her?! Of course I know what toast is, it's what humans on TV eat when they're late to school! And how dare they expect me to accept food from them! Although… It has been a while since I last ate…

-

Why are they looking at me like that? I was trying to be respectful, I even practiced how to say it and everything: itadakimasu. Did I say it wrong? They don't seem offended, at least. Not that it matters, since they're about to be slain! … But no, a hero must be polite, even to their opponents.

-

Finally, the fight begins! And the human isn't even going to fight back! Ha! They thought their empty words would stop me!

… (But were they right?)

No! Get it together, Contralto! This is a human! You know what they're capable of… They're massive and evil and hate sprites and if they see you, they'll eat you! I mean… I've never seen that, but my parents always said so…

But I don't need to worry about that! I have the strongest power of all on my side, the power of believing in myself! Me and my weapons will defeat this human, gain their power, and then defeat the rest of the humans, and then sprites will no longer live in hiding! It's a flawless plan!

It's finally time, time to give my best speech ever, the last one this human will ever hear, so I better make it good! Ahem…

"As you wish, human. Prepare to be struck down by the hopes and dreams of every sprite in the world! All of our power, flowing through these sacred blades, with one singular focus: To annihilate you and every other horrible human in the world! Now, prepare to be brought to justice by Contralto, Hero of the Sprites, Defender of the Helpless, the Hero Who Never Gives Up!"

And with that, it's time! To power up my blades and deliver the ultimate strike!

"Hyaaaa!!!"

Now… I strike! Again! Again! Again!

…

…

Huff, huff… I… I failed… even with all that power… Going for their weak spot… But they look like nothing even happened… and the way they're holding me… this is so… humiliating…

"Are you done?"

"You… you think I'm going to give up that easily? I told you… I'm the hero who never gives up… put me down, I wasn't finished!"

The human looks frustrated… they're taking a deep breath… is this it? Brace for it, this is when they finally take their turn to attack… huh? Why are they putting me down…?

Part 4

"... You're determined, I'll give you that. But listen, kid, it's going to take ages to kill me like that, and honestly, it's a Friday, I'm not really in the mood to die, y'know? So how about we, uh… call a truce?"

The sprite sat dejectedly on the couch cushion where she was placed, her brow furrowing in frustration as the human called her a child, accidentally adding more salt to her wounded spirit.

In front of her, the human remained seated on the floor, using his shirt sleeve to cover the injury from Contralto's "final attack". After a long moment of silence, the sprite spoke, all of her previous gusto gone from her voice.

"I failed… I couldn't even defeat a single human… how am I supposed to help everybody now?"

There was a moment of silence from the human, who was staring at Contralto, thinking. The sprite stared anxiously as the human's giant, unblinking eyes peering down at her, as if she expected the human to strike back at any second. What she didn't expect was a surprisingly gentle response from the otherwise aloof human.

"Look… why don't you, uh, tell me about this great cause you're fighting for, and maybe I could, I dunno, help somehow? I mean, I'm not about to go kill people or anything, but, I dunno, I trust that your heart is in the right place here…"

Contralto stood up and cleared her throat, preparing to give another speech, only to get interrupted by the human.

"Er… how about we just talk? No speeches. So I got that you're a 'sprite', and apparently your kind have been living in humanity's shadow or whatever, but what does violence solve exactly?"

Her shoulders slumped a bit, silently complying with the human's request. After all, he had won the fight, and could technically strike back at any second… not that the sprite thought he would.

"Okay… my plan was to make it so we wouldn't need to live in hiding anymore… we all learn to live in secret, so that the humans can't hurt us or other sprites, but we're still able to live close enough to them, to… uh…."

The human raised an eyebrow at this pause, as Contralto suddenly looked unusually nervous, before she hastily carried on. "But a-anyways, I was sick of living in secret! Why should humans get to do whatever they want, but we have to live in fear of being seen! So I was going to destroy every last human, so that none of them could hurt us anymore, you… you don't have to hide from something that's dead! But I couldn't even kill one! And they weren't even trying to fight back!"

A chuckle was not exactly the response Contralto expected, as she looked warily at the human.

"Your big plan… was to kill eight billion humans? Listen, kid, there are humans who have tried that and failed. I don't want to ruin your dreams, but you may need to set a more reasonable goal."

Contralto's heart sank as the human's words set in. 8 billion?! How much is a billion? Surely a lot more than she was estimating.

"So… why do your people fear humans, anyway? I get that we're bigger, but I promise that not every human has it out for you. I mean, I haven't hurt you, have I? Even in self-defense? Like I said before, there are probably some real villains out there, but you can't just say every human is dangerous and evil."

The human looked at Contralto, waiting for a response, as she sat and processed his words.

"But you could…" Was all the sprite could mutter.

"Sure… a human could hurt me, too, but I don't fear every human. Yeah, it would be easier because you're small, but I'm just saying, maybe… you could at least accept that there are some okay humans out there?"

Contralto sighed before standing up, some of her previous bravado returned.

"Human! You… may be correct, that not all humans need to be slain. And that is why… I, Contralto, Hero of the Sprites, Defender of the Helpless, The Hero Who Never Gives Up, will spare your life. As thanks, for this important lesson."

The human smiled gently, seeing the little hero was sounding more like her boisterous self.

"Gee, thanks. So… what do you do now? Ride off into the sunset to find people to save? You are the, uh, 'Defender of the Helpless' and all…"

Contralto beamed, hearing the human call her by one of her many titles. However  her head soon dropped as an uncertain tone entered her voice.

"I… don't know… since I was a kid, defeating the humans has always been my dream… but you may be onto something there… I guess I could find sprites in trouble, and help them."

The human chuckled as they saw the realization in the tiny sprite's eyes as she continued. "Yeah. Yeah! What's more heroic than that! I'll be a traveling hero, defending those I encounter and saving them from harm! It's perfect! Human, you are truly full of wisdom!"

"You really don't need to keep calling me 'Human', you know. The name's Clay. And, I'm going to be late for work, so I'm going to have to ask you to start your heroic journey sooner rather than later."

With an excited shout, Contralto lept to the floor, running towards a small hole in the wall that Clay hadn't even noticed before, and started to sneak through, before she turned around and spoke one final time, in a more level tone than before.

"Seriously… thank you, Clay the Human. I hope our paths cross again someday."

With a bow and a dramatic swish of her cape, she disappeared. Clay stood there for a moment, trying to process what just happened, before bursting into laughter at the tiny figure's theatrics. Despite the surreal morning, he secretly wished the same.

[latikaa-renaz]

FFXIV Writes; Day 25

cw: medical procedure, eye injury mentioned. Set during the Siren's Specter Campaign

characters: Latika'a, Sloane, mentions of Erlanis

The amount of slowly escalated fighting, genuine to the point of nearly reaching physical blows, that had gone into getting the consent he needed was intense. Careful suggestions, pointed comments, and genuine concern had all soured with time; each word said turning spiteful and angry with the hurt pride and fear coming from every side. Even a brief period of screaming when Latika’a had snapped, pushed too far from their situation and Sloane’s stubborn nature striking words like the bullets he shot against every one of Latika’as attempts to convince the man to let him aid. Had it not been for the terse snapped words Erlanis gave then, it would have drawn even more Voidsent to them than was already being sporadically fought off. 

“Fine. Just get it over with, but know if you fuck up…” The words he’d been *needing*, been *waiting* so impatiently for, that Lati would have given up on if this weren’t such a drastic situation. When Sloane finally gave in after another fitful attempt at rest for the three, the bells of moving and scavenging what they could with less and less results wore them down hard… Lati nearly dropped the makeshift bag of lichen and seaweed he’d been trying to clean. The few measly fish they’d managed to gather had already been cleaned and ready to cook as much as possible- the skins stripped down to act as bandaging under the strips of cloth already gathered. “Yes, I get it, you-” Deep breaths were taken, teeth audibly grinding. 

“I get it, I do. I won’t mess this up, now lay down and let me work.” The tension does not dissipate, while Lati turns their hiding spot into an emergency operation zone. Strain and stress fill both Sloane and Lati’s faces as the ultimate creativity and supply use has to come into play. One does not have the tools of the trade needed, and the other struggling past deep rooted fears and thoughts that while Lati does not know… he can empathize with. It’s why he’s let the man go so long without either forcing the procedure or leaving Sloane to die.

He gets it, so much more than Sloane thinks he does. He understands the glimpses of someone else that come in the moments of giving silent company when another nightmare of past traumas lurk up from Lati’s mind, when rough words come out in demands for Lati to take care of himself, when Erlanis is showing his insane amount of skills in fights and there is finally a working balance between them all. Sloane is an asshole, and sometimes so unpleasant when their conversations aren’t superficial flirtations… yet Latika’a grasps what understanding he can.

So he works with precision, with what speed he can- shaping tools from the very earth around them and turning them sterile with his ingenuity and precise spellwork. He cycles the work of slicing mangled flesh out with continuous waves of healing to keep the agony at bay. The wrapped leather torn from his own clothing can only do so much to cushion Sloane’s gritted teeth when the pain flows, the lichen being used as a sponge only holds so much blood that flows from the eye cavity being emptied. It is not an easy procedure in comparison to many- but he takes the route where as much as possible *can* be saved. 

He takes the route of a future prosthetic being possible, even if it means having to fashion a grotesque and slapdash version of the clean dressings he’d normally use. Fingers stained and slick with the eye’s fluid and the body’s blood work through the disgusting sensations. It’s draining, both on his mind for how it screams at the many risks taken and the lack of what he desperately wants in hand compared to the pale imitations he uses despite how his heart screams that he cannot let crew fall. He cannot let the stubborn ass of a man succumb to the infection that awaits, when a future of painful but necessary adjustments and *living* is in sight. 

The moment he’s done, when he can be grudgingly satisfied that the burn of tense muscles have signaled a job well done… what water they have will be split between himself, and the panting Sloane that he eases into sitting. 

It was messy, but it was done. They can call it a day.

[haloshornsinkstains]

Indulge Me A Little?

Mouri Motonari x F!reader

Something of a sequel to "And What if I Bite Back?” though you don’t need to read that to understand this, they’re both just excuses for me to write smut about a sexy pirate lord.

Motonari is a bit out of character, it’s hard to write smut for someone who hates touch, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

CW: NSFW (PWP), female reader, mentions of kidnapping, writer getting carried away with pirate talk

“I can’t tell if yer brave or just real stupid Princess.” The chatelaine just shrugs and smiles, biting back a giggle at the mixture of expressions that flickered across his face. It only serves to deepen Motonari’s scowl, people he glares at do not smile in response. They cower in fear and run for their lives. But the Oda princess is a different breed altogether, just as sweet and wicked as she had been the first time he ran into her. “I thought you had some fabrics to show me.” She chuckles, nodding her head towards the cloth behind him. “If ya believe that was my meaning then yer more of a fool than I thought.” The princess merely shakes her head. “Oh no, I know exactly what you meant. But I also know you’ve brought some truly stunning fabrics into Azuchi with you before, indulge me a little?” Her smile is a little softer this time, eyes flickering between his face and the fabrics behind him, though she doesn’t make a move to get any closer until he sighs and nods. “Merda. Go ahead m’lady, but there’s plenty of better things we could be doing.” He grumbled, staring down at her as the Oda princess bent to look at the fabrics. She hummed. “Oh, don’t worry, we have all day to do better things.” “Then perhaps I might have some fabric on m’ship you’d like to see.” At that her head whipped up, narrowing her eyes at his sly grin, one hand reaching towards her obi. Motonari merely scoffed. “Stop it with that that face m’lady. If I wanted to kidnap ya I’d have had you tied up and shoved in the hold a long time ago.” Her eyebrows pulled together at his words, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “Wow, you really know how to inspire trust.” “Don’t need trust to bed you m’lady.” He chuckles. “Ya didn’t trust me last time now did you?” She hums thoughtfully, “I trusted you enough.” “Then yer head must be full of flowers. You remember I’m the Oda’s enemy right m’lady?” “You’d be surprised how many enemies of the Oda I talk to,” she laughed “and it’s not like I have enough brainpower to tell you any secret tactics when we’re together, nor are you particularly threatening the Oda at present. Unless your idea of a threat is outselling the local fabric traders. I don’t see the problem, unless you really do plan on kidnapping me.” “Not when yer guard dogs are expecting you back Princess. More trouble than it’s worth to have that silver kitsune chasing after me.” Motonari scoffed, motioning with his head towards the street. “Now, d’ya want to see these fabrics?” The chatelaine laughed, nodding her head and gesturing towards him. “Lead the way, Captain.” If she saw the subtle shiver that ran through him at that name, she was kind enough not to mention it as Motonari lead her towards the ship he called his own.

The Oda Princess’ arrival on the ship sparked a ripple of excitement among Motonari’s crew, several of the men on deck turning dark smiles towards her. The Princess shifted slightly, letting Motonari’s body sheild most of hers from their hungry eyes. “You finally captured the Devil’s woman Lord Motonari!” “Aye Captain! Want us to tie her up and throw her in the brig for ya?” Motonari bristled, throwing a glare in their direction that would send lesser men running for the hills. “Any part o’you touches her an’ I’ll be removing it from yer body, savvy? The Princess is my guest.” Ripples of dissent ran through the assembled crew, but one sharp look from their Captain was enough to quiet them before his blood red gaze turned back to the woman beside him. “This way m’lady.” “I didn’t know you could cook.” She grinned, pointing at the small kitchen built into the Captain’s quarters. “Any other skills you’d been hiding from me?” Motonari grumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘I ain’t hidin’’ and gestured towards some fabrics in the corner. “Planned t’get something made with ‘em anyway.” The chatelaine grinned, rushing over to inspect the fine western cloth, her eyes alight with happiness. “Oh, these are beautiful! What were you planning to do with them?” “I dunno yet.” Motonari shrugged. “I thought you were some kind of seamstress?” “Would you like me to make you something?” Her eyes, when she turned back to look at him, were so wide and full of hopeful joy Motonari nearly burst into laughter. Instead he managed a stiff nod, and got a bright smile in return. “I’ll make something wonderful.” “Yeah, yeah. You plannin’ to waste all your time looking at pretty fabric?” She hums, staring at the fabric for a few more seconds before her gaze flits back to him, soft smile sharpening into something more wicked. Enchantress might not be too far from the truth, if the way her eyes drew him in was any indication. But she didn’t move towards him, instead fixing him with those sparkling eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. “Ya gonna make me wait all day?” He growled. “You could have just asked. Or made me.” She huffed, pushing back to her feet and taking a few steps towards him. “I aint in the habit of forcing women into anythin’.” She laughs and shakes her head, eyes fixed on the blood red of his. “Oh, you wouldn’t be forcing me into anything. I wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t more than happy to do, you should know that much at least.” What little patience Motonari had left finally snapped. “Will you stop yappin’ and use that pretty mouth of yours for something better already!” With a smile she finally closes the gap between them, leaning forward so her breath brushes over his lips. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He didn’t answer, instead grabbing the collar of her kimono and pulling her lips into his. He could feel the way her lips quirked up against his kiss for a few brief seconds before those lips parted to let his tongue brush over hers. His hands left her collar, reaching down to pull her against him, her hips grinding into his as they kissed, his hand gripping the flesh of her ass. She whimpered, fisting one hand in the fabric of his cape as if it were the only thing keeping her standing.

“Where’s that smart tongue o’yours m’lady?” He chuckled, pulling back. “One kiss and all yer fancy words desert ya?” It took a few moments for her eyes to come back into focus, but once they did he saw her brows furrow, the smallest of pouts pulling at her lips. “Well, if you weren’t so skilled with your tongue maybe I’d stand a better chance.” She huffed, before her gaze sharpened, lips pulling into a sly smirk. “But if you really want to see a clever tongue, I’d be more than happy to show you.” "Oh?" His smirk was just the right side of predatory, eyes sparkling and pupils blown. "Well I ain't gonna stop you m'lady." With one last soft press of her lips to his she sunk down to her knees, slowly undoing his trousers. Each motion followed by a pause, time for him to stop her, but his patience was wearing thin and it took little more than a quiet growl to encourage her to hurry up. In the time it has taken her to undo the first two buttons on his trousers, she had them pushed down around his thighs, her hand gently wrapped around his length. Pausing she looked up at him, and despite the position, and all the filthy things he knew she was capable of, from this position she looked all doe-eyed and innocent. It made him want to ruin her. "That all ya got princess?" She didn't rise to his taunting, only smiling for a brief moment before she dipped her head to wrap her lips around him. Her eyes flicked up momentarily, just long enough to catch the brief flicker in his cocky smirk, before she started to bob her head. She revelled in the sharp hiss of breath between his teeth every time he pressed against the back of her throat. The strangled noise he made when she swallowed around him. His hand found its way into her hair, fisting in the strands as he followed the back and forth movement of her head. Just as she was starting to feel him twitching against her tongue his grip tightened, tugging her off him with a lewd pop. “Porra, can’t have the party finishing too early.” He muttered, nodding his head towards the bed. “Unless ya want me to take you on the floor m’lady, I’d get moving.”

The Princess hummed thoughtfully, as if she were truly considering letting him have his way with her there on the floor of his cabin, before slowly rising to her feet and making her way towards the bed. She slipped her kimono off as she walked, exposing the smooth planes of her shoulders and back, finally letting it fall into a pool at her feet beside the bed. She turned back to look at him, settling herself on the side of the bed so she could watch as he undressed. “You’re staring Princess.” “It’s a very nice view.” She hummed, not taking her eyes of him despite the warmth of her cheeks. He snorted and shook his head. “There are much better things we can be doing.” “Hard to do with you all the way over-”  Motonari crossed the room before she could finish, pressing her down into the sheets with the weight of his body. One large hand grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her back arched ever so slightly into his touch, hips pressing against his. “I aint going to be gentle with ya m’lady.” He warned, face hovering just above hers. “Not after that little show.” She tilted her head up, leaving the barest brush of her lips against his. “Perhaps I don’t want you to be.” He didn’t speak, instead focusing on pressing himself inside her. Holding still when he felt her tighten around him, his name a soft moan on her lips. He stayed like that for a while, hovering over her and willing his body to calm down, at least until she started to squirm beneath him, rocking her hips up against his in a desperate attempt to chase some friction. With a dry chuckle he started to move, reslishing the way her expression twisted, mouth falling open on a gasp as her hands flexed in his grasp. Straining against him in an unconscious effort to reach out and touch. He could feel the flex of her thighs against his sides, the way her walls pulled him deeper with every stroke.  "Ah, so ya do like it when I'm rough with you m'lady." Motonari smirked, pulling back a little to study her face. The Princess nodded vigorously, eyes so blown and glazed over it was a wonder she even understood him. "Yes. Yes, please! I… I'm so clo- so close. Please don't stop." The words were breathy, slightly slurred with pleasure, but the way she desperately tried to rock her hips against his told him all he needed to know. His hips snapped forwards, free arm pushing one of her legs to the side to let him push deeper. He felt her tensing more under him with each thrust, her breath coming in sharp pants between each moan and scrambled cries of his name. When she finally reached her peak he nearly stopped his movements altogether, sharp eyes drinking in everything about her expression in that moment, memorizing the feel of her walls contracting around him, how her chest looked with her body arched against the sheets, the trembling of her legs around him. He barely managed to pull out in time to spill across her stomach, eyes still fixed on the blissful look on her face when he did.

Some time later, when both of their breathing was even and the princess had cleaned and dressed once more, Motonari shoved the pile of fine fabric into her arms.  “Here y’are m’lady, I’ll expect something good.” He grumbled, trying not to focus on the way her eyes lit up at the fine work all over again.  “Thank you! I promise I’ll make something amazing! Hmm… what’s this?” She adjusted the fabric, gently lifting a small cloth pouch from the top of the pile and holding it up to inspect. “Nothing really, now come on m’lady. I’ll take you back to town before those guard dogs of yers come yappin’ at my heels.” He pushed open the door to his cabin, gesturing for her to start moving. With a sigh the princess re-adjusted the bundle of cloth and made her way out, ignoring the calls of the crew as she made her way back out on deck. One sharp glare from the captain silenced them, the softly murmured thanks from the woman beside him going ignored. He escorted her all the way back into the markets, neither spoke much, but the silence was comfortable. Once they reached the markets she turned and offered him a bow, the formality of the gesture made him snort given she’d been in his bed less than an hour before. Turning his back to her, he threw a casual wave over his shoulder, turning his head slightly to call back to her. “I’ll be back for whatever you make me in a few weeks. I’m expecting something good m’lady.”

[angstyaches]

Drop

Again, this is quite heavy for this blog. Please heed the warnings! DM me for a summary, if you don’t want to actually read it because of any of the tags (I’ll make a post if anyone asks on anon). Stay safe, friends.

CW: disordered eating mention, alcohol, heights (inc. character struggling with fear of heights), angsty and dark thoughts, relationship problems being discussed, very brief but intense death ideation, mention of gore/injury (described by character, not real), danger of falling, mention of broken glass, emeto, food mention, blood mention

 ___

Shayne had hoped the bad thoughts would take longer to find him, but they were waiting for him just on the other side of his bedroom door in the townhouse. For the past two weeks, he’d eaten three meals a day with Charlie at his parents’ house, even if some of them were small, and he’d been imagining himself keeping it up once he got back, but now that he was alone, the shame and the feeling of helplessness that had always surrounded food came flooding back.

When dinner time rolled around that evening (he knew it was dinner time because his stomach remembered), he felt Madelyn’s phantom breath on his neck and ignored the hunger. He crawled into his bed and tried forcing himself to sleep before his body could realise it was being deprived.

But god, he was just a needy, greedy little black hole of a creature, a sap on the world so long as you’re not fulfilling your duty, an insult to flesh and bone, nothing but darkness and hunger and waste and –

Shayne sat up in bed and squeezed his head between his hands. He’d gotten so used to Charlie’s constant presence and warmth, that he was already feeling unbearably lonely without him.

Stupid Charlie, he thought, feeling a flutter of affection in his chest as he pictured Charlie’s head resting on his shoulder. And then, a sinking feeling.

In the absence of Madelyn’s voice in his head, Shayne realised how… quiet everything else was. Ryan and Nancy were probably still travelling in Europe, but Elliott and Felix should have been here.

He’d half-expected Felix to come pounding on his door around this time, raving about whatever he was cooking and asking questions about Shayne’s Christmas. But the fact that the townhouse was this silent was extremely unpleasant.

Shayne let himself into the hallway, pausing and holding his breath, scanning for any signs of life. He could have done this easily if he’d been in a forest, but houses and urban settings were always trickier. He picked up a flash of something, a thrum of a heartbeat, but it sent his head spinning and he had to stop concentrating. It seemed to be coming from Elliott and Felix’s room, even though he hadn’t heard a single stir in there since he’d gotten home.

“Hello?” he asked softly, pushing the door open slowly.

He wasn’t surprised that it was cold in the bedroom beyond, but a breeze took him right in the face. Papers had been gently blown across the floor, and a vase holding a fake rose had been knocked from the windowsill onto the floor.

Nobody was in here. This wasn’t where he’d sensed somebody.

The view of the town was incredible from this height, four storeys up. It was around dusk, so there were lights blinking to life in houses and office buildings even as Shayne stood by the open window and rested his hands on the sill.

“Elliott?” he called out quietly, leaning his head outside. The distance from his face to the street below was dizzying.

“The fuck do you want?” came a curt reply, which made Shayne look to his right. The moulding on the outside of the building was about a metre wide, enough for Elliott to slump against the brick wall with a glass balanced on his knee and a bottle grasped in the opposite hand.

His hair was loose of its usual ponytail, as well as being greasy and dishevelled from having fingers constantly dragged through it. He was scraping it back with his left hand at that very moment, eyes glazed over as he looked up at the sky.

“When’d you get back?”

“Uh, today. Earlier.” Shayne could hear how high-pitched his voice had gotten, but what could he do about it? He couldn’t stop wondering how Elliott’s weight wasn’t forcing him to slink further down, legs pulling him over the edge. “El, what are you doing? Someone’s gonna see you out there.”

“So?” Elliott shrugged. “Maybe I’ll become a Reddit legend.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Shayne sighed. “What’re you doing out there? Are you okay?”

Elliott blinked, the motion slowed by the darkness and an unknown amount of whisky. “Come here, and I’ll show you.”

Shayne would have really preferred not to, but it didn’t look like Elliott was coming to him anytime soon. He turned around and sat up into the windowsill, slowly shifting his legs around so his feet touched the moulding. He breathed hard, tried not to look at the fall below, and told himself that if it could hold Elliott’s weight, it could hold his.

“You know, inside, there are floors and – and chairs,” he stammered, edging closer to Elliott before lowering himself to a seated position. He didn’t slump like Elliott though; his hands were pressing the concrete, stiff as pillars. “Lots of nicer and safer places to sit and drink whisky.”

“Mmph.”

The words barely seemed to reach Elliott’s ears.

“So, what’s up?” Shayne asked.

When Elliott smiled, it was a sick thing that twisted the lower half of his face without touching the rest. He looked past the rim of his glass and out across the town. Shayne wouldn’t have been surprised if his glare had caused a sudden flash of lightning to tear through the clouds.

The silence seemed to press in further, the sound of traffic fading away as though a bubble had descended on the rooftop.

“Where’s… Felix?” Shayne already had the feeling that the answer wasn’t going to be good.

“I don’t know.” Elliott pursed his lips. “Think he’s left me.”

A cold stone seemed to drop through Shayne’s stomach. He couldn’t begin to imagine what the equivalent of that felt like for Elliott. “What? Why?”

After a slight roll of his eyes, Elliott reached into the pocket of his trousers, fidgeting with something before pulling out a ring. He twirled it between his thumb and his figure, examining it up-close for a second before holding it out.

“Oh.” Shayne eyed the ring for a moment before reluctantly lifting one hand – one of his supportive pillars – and letting Elliott place it in his palm. “I take it he said no?”

“No, he didn’t say no. He didn’t say… anything.”

“Is that – is that better, or worse?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Sorry, El.” Shayne gulped and stared at the ring, only managing to hold onto it for a couple of seconds. Elliott had already taken his eyes off of it, his attention snagged by his drink again. A slight breeze across his skin made Shayne shudder, as though it could possibly throw him off balance. Mostly, it was just cold and unpleasant. “Here, take it back. I’m gonna drop it or something.”

“Why would you drop it?” Elliott asked with a grunt, reaching to pick up the ring. His fingertips lingered a moment as he realised how badly Shayne’s hand was trembling. “Fuck, man, are you okay?”

“Mmm.” Shayne put his hand down next to him again, fingers aching under the pressure he was putting on them.

“What’s up?” Elliott scoffed lightly. “You gonna hurl?”

“Maybe,” Shayne admitted. “I’ve never been up this high before.”

“Jesus, you’re such a drama queen.” Elliott planted a hand down and pushed himself to his feet. His movements were as swift and graceful as a panther, even while drunk, and he seemed to tower unreasonably high over Shayne as he straightened his back and stretched his arms over his head. He almost reached the roof tiles that jutted out over the top floor. A strong gust of wind could probably have toppled him, especially considering how much whisky was probably flooding his system.

Elliott’s feet made a scraping sound on the concrete as he lowered his arms, laughing deep in his chest.

“Elliott, stop! Just sit the fuck down.”

“Why?” Elliott’s voice was no stronger than a breath. He closed his eyes for a worrying amount of time, his shoulders swaying slightly as his arms hung by his side like weights. “Would you care if I fell?”

Shayne got a sinking feeling, for what seemed like the hundredth time in ten minutes. “What kind of question is that?”

“Do you think I’d die, actually?” Elliott perked up again, unnervingly so. He opened his eyes and lifted his glass slightly. He craned his neck to look over the edge of the moulding. He hummed, like he was pondering whether he should buy a pair of shoes in black or in brown. “I’m fairly sure that fully-developed vampires can only die if they’re burned alive, but… I wonder how thoroughly that’s been tested.”

“Elliott –”

“I’ve had a decent run. In human years, I’m almost seventy, you know? That’s longer than a lot of people end up with…”

Shayne didn’t know if he should have been trying to grab Elliott to stop him from teetering so close to the edge, or if that would make everything worse. He could barely breathe, let alone think.

“It’d still fucking hurt either way, though.” Elliott threw back the last mouthful of his drink and smacked his lips. “Bones poking up through my organs, probably bits of me exploding on impact –”

“Elliott, seriously, you’re just being an asshole now, just sit down!”

“Would it make him come back, if I was injured like that?” Elliott demanded, his golden eyes piercing and intense. He was beginning to lapse into clumsy arm gestures, his voice rising higher with emotion. “Would it put everything into perspective, Shayne? Would it fix everyone’s problems if I was maimed? Or if I was completely and utterly de–?”

Shayne’s stomach turned, his hands flying to his face, as the whisky glass shuddered and dropped out of Elliott’s hand. It disappeared from view, faster than the sick grin could fall from Elliott’s face.

The shatter was tiny; Shayne had to really strain his ears to hear it. He watched Elliott blink tears down his face and slowly lower himself to his haunches. He opened his mouth wide, like he was going to scream, but no sound came out.

“Hey,” Shayne whispered, letting go of a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He stretched out one hand, trying to gently catch Elliott’s attention. “El. Elliott.”

Elliott didn’t move. He stayed crouched, one hand gripping the edge of the moulding, his face hovering over the side. When he blinked, tears fell and missed the building completely, dropping straight to the sidewalk that was four storeys down. 

“El, come on.”

All the way down to the sidewalk –

“Elliott.”

He turned his head, swaying a little, and for a moment Shayne thought that was it, that he was gone, he’d lost his balance. Shayne sat forward on his heels, instinctively making an uncalculated grab for his cousin’s hand, but luckily Elliott was reaching back too; two fumbling hands happened to fumble in the right directions at the right time.

“Fuck,” Elliott whimpered, steadying himself on his feet again. Shayne could feel both their pulses in their joined hands, Elliott’s almost explosive. “We should… We should probably get off this thing.”

“Oh, you think?” Shayne snapped, though he clung to Elliott’s hand like a toddler to a parent as the two of them edged back over towards the window. He hopped in through the window first, turning to make sure Elliott was following him. The taller man hit his head on the open window, making the frame shudder as he shut his eyes and winced.

“Shit, are you okay?” Shayne held out a hand to help him make it the rest of the way.

“I’m fine, get off me,” Elliott growled, shoving Shayne away from him and storming over to the bed.

“Fuck heights,” Shayne murmured, pulling the window shut with more force than was probably necessary. It released some of the fear that had been pinching his nerves though, and his head felt clearer. “We should probably go down to the street and clean that glass up before someone –”

“Shut up.”

Shayne shrugged, gazing at Elliott as he sat at the edge of his bed, head resting in his hands. “Is – is your head okay, or –?”

“What’d I just say?”

“You said to shut up, but how the fuck do you expect me not to ask you if you’re okay? You almost fell off the fucking… roof!” Shayne smacked his hand on the bedpost as he walked by, partially on purpose. “Fuck you, Elliott.”

“Calm down, man,” Elliott snarled, his head shooting up from his hands. “Come on, you seriously think that’s the closest I’ve ever come to dying?”

“You can’t…” Shayne stopped by the door to the hallway, eyes lowered. “You can’t do shit like that, you can’t talk like that. I don’t care if he’s left you, if the world’s falling to shit, if you think nobody cares about you being around, you can’t…”

A sob broke the air, and Shayne froze, turning to watch as Elliott hunched over at the edge of the bed, his head ducking and disappearing from his silhouette.

“I’m… sorry.”

Having never heard such a heart-wrenching sound from Elliott before, Shayne found himself hurrying back to the bed. He sat down next to Elliott and let him sink his head against his shoulder and cry, his body convulsing with what seemed to be days’ worth of pent-up agony and sadness. Shayne felt utterly useless; he couldn’t guarantee that everything would be alright with Felix, because how the hell could he possibly know that?

“Ugh, fuck,” Elliott exclaimed, his shoulders jerking forward with a sob so deep that it sounded more like a hiccup. He clamped a hand over his mouth, the other lifting to tentatively cover the front of his head, where he’d hit it on the window.

“You okay, man?” Shayne asked hoarsely.

Elliott shook his head, face paling even in the dull light.

“You gonna hurl?” Shayne murmured, wondering if the irony would be lost on Elliott in his current state. He was already getting to his feet, remembering that Felix kept a metal bin under his desk.

“Mmmph.” Elliott nodded furiously, only releasing his mouth from his hand once Shayne had thrust the bin at him. Saliva glistened on his lips as he hovered, breathing heavily. His eyes were red and swollen and he was still gently kneading his head.

A deep retch rolled his shoulders and made him duck his head further into the bin. Shayne grimaced and almost put a hand on Elliott’s shoulder before remembering that that would have been a terrible idea. He stood by the desk instead, arms folded around his waist, flinching in time with Elliott’s horrifying gagging.

When Elliott’s face resurfaced, he was gasping and spitting out mouthfuls of thick bile and saliva, tinged only slightly with the golden hue of the heavy liquor.

“Jesus,” he choked out. “How hard did I hit my head?”

After a disbelieving glance towards the window, Shayne scoffed. “Your head? What about the god-knows-how-much whisky in your system right now?”

“Alright, whatever,” Elliott groaned. He pawed at a thick strand of his hair that was stuck to the side of his face and trailing into the bin itself, tossing it over his shoulder. Just in time too, since the next retch was deep and abrupt and dragged a rumbling belch up alongside a gush of foamy alcohol and stomach acid.

Between gags, Elliott let thick liquid drip from his mouth into the bin, body shivering with the effort it took to bring everything up. It went on for so long that Shayne was certain Elliott was going to fall asleep with his head in the bin.

Eventually, Elliott sat upright, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and dragging it across the lower half of his face. He tossed it into the bin and reached for another one.

“Want me to get you some water? Or, like, blood?”

“No.” Elliott sighed deeply, dropping the second tissue into the bin before he began to scoop his hair back from his face and neck. “I’ve been drinking on an empty stomach for two days. I wanna go get chips.”

“Chips?”

“Yes. Can you grab one of Felix’s scrunchies from his side?”

Shayne did as he was asked, mostly in a daze, rounding the bed to get to Felix’s bedside locker. There was a pile of hair ties sitting alongside a handheld cassette player.

“Can you even eat?” Shayne asked, leaning across the bed to hand one of the hair ties to Elliott. “You know, with all of your full-vampire shit going on?”

“Seriously, you little asshole?” Elliott snapped, his voice scratchy and weak. “My life is falling down around me and you’re trying to deny me chips?”

Shayne quickly shook his head, a little bit grateful for the bloodcurdling glare that Elliott was currently treating him to. He got up from the bed again as Elliott tended to his hair. “Let me just grab a jacket.”

[darelzzz]

Fraud

A short story about lacking an appetite, and nothing else at all.

CW: ostracism, sexual connotations, brief assault metaphor.

You are a fraud.

Page 3 of The Morning Log prints recipes with a column narrating the experience of the meal, written by yours truly. The column is what people really read it for, or so you're told. Top shelf schlock according to some, but well received by most readers.

"From the moment my knife slid through the steak like parting legs, I knew I had found the one for me… thirsting for more, my mouth sank into flesh, spilling succulent juices… the restaurant's name is but a lost summer memory, so I have tried to recreate it in this recipe..."

You look at the steak on your plate. It is… brown. With red in the middle. That's good, apparently. Biting down reveals it is *moist*, and a foreign entity wiggles around your tongue, reminiscent of the fluid dentists give you. It tastes the same way it always does: of meat.

To write your column, you research other people's experiences – not hard, given they're everywhere. From there you construct a fantasy, an alien manufacturing humanity. How long will it be until the world realises your column is a fiction written by a fraud?

Appetite is a universal human desire – nobody says it, because nobody has to. It permeates all media, jammed into literature and baked into adverts, bubbling in the background. Of course it does, because it's integral to a fulfilling life. Yet you do not hunger.

You still eat. It's a plain nutritional need. So how can you not be hungry?

You cooked for someone else once. The idea of providing seemed sweet. So how can you not be hungry?

You write a food column. Voluntarily, you entice with honeyed words. So how can you not be hungry?

There was someone who didn't have an appetite – said they didn't have an appetite – from your hometown. You know this, because it was mentioned – a dismissed claim, only to explain – in the articles about them. The articles about how they were force-fed.

You cannot be like them.

The photographer who took pictures for your column is replaced. The new one's surprisingly easy to get along with. Sometimes you hangout after work, never at pubs or restaurants, thankfully. One day you compliment their use of lighting, and–

"You don't have an appetite, do you?"

Bile bores a cavity through your stomach, as your cover falls away–

"Don't worry, I don't either. That's what the choker is about. It's like, a community symbol."

Around their neck is a black choker, worn openly. Proudly. Suspiciously, yet your urge to vomit abates. Somewhat.

"How did you know?"

Are you that obvious? Who else knows? Will anyone date you? Fuck you? Have your children? Such important questions.

"Hunch. You never say my pics are inviting, just comment on the technical stuff. Nobody else will notice – they're too busy denying we exist."

You let go of your breath.

That explains the choker: they wear it everywhere, yet still get comments about how hungry they must get while working. *Obviously* you're both voracious gluttons – that becomes an inside joke between you. With someone else there, you can laugh.

You are a fraud.

But you don't think they are. Why would they need an appetite to photograph food? You're comforted knowing you're not the only one. It's not you that doesn't make sense, but the world. As a friend says:

"Why would I want to eat, when I could have sex instead?"

[themockingcrows]

Companionship Through Circuitry ch. 6: Setbacks

Bro/Hal cw: blood, violence, deathclaws, and a generally bad day in the wasteland

Journeys are never without their inherent dangers. When you're living in the wasteland, it's to be expected. Doesn't make them suck any less, though.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942408/chapters/64071430

     I spy with my little eye-

     “Hal, pick a new game already.”

     I can assure you this is the best game to play out here.

     “Fine,” Bro said, exhausted. They’d been traveling for days on the remains of the highway by now and there was no sign of a proper township. He smelled, his back and legs hurt, and despite having plenty of food water was always a precious commodity. He also had at least four letters to send by now, including a few sketches and schematics he’d designed after toying with the Furby body some more, in case Dave wanted to get his hands on a little guardian bot of his own. The kid was smart, even he’d be able to handle basic scripting to make a functional system for it. Surely someone else he was buddies with could figure out an AI of sorts for it, too. 

     True, it would have been easier to follow another path by now, but following the main point of the highway just seemed the best, most direct route for him. Who’s to say it was brahmin who made the trodden paths that led further into the wastes, or humans? What if it was mutants, or worse, deathclaws stalking the wastelands? Scuttling parties of mole rats or vicious dogs.

     Would you like to know what I spy or not, Bro.

     “I don’t want to know, but I’ve got a feelin’ you’re gonna tell me anyway aren’t you.”

     Correct! I’ll give you a few hints.

     Bro groaned in irritation.

     “A bloatfly,” he guessed off the bat.

     No, though it is annoying.

     “As annoyin’ as you? Why isn’t there a fuckin’ mute option on these shades..”

     Your second hint is that it’s bipedal.

     That perked him up somewhat. Bro scanned the horizon further off for signs of a city or outpost, a wanderer, a courier. Anyone. Instead what he saw was the lanky, sharply pointed edges of a juvenile deathclaw. A definite pain in the ass, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

     “...And how long have we been in deathclaw territory for, Hal?”

     Uncertain, my saved map mentions shopping centers, not deathclaws.

     “Ooh, shopping centers?” he said. “Put a peg in it, if we find somewhere to trade soon we might do a run back to grab some more supplies for trade and keepin’.”

     The deathclaw is still nearby, you know.

     “I can avoid it if I want,” Bro said, taking out his sword. A juvenile would take some fast work, but he knew he was good for dispatching the monstrosities, and people paid good money for their clawed hands, even the small ones. Hell, even he wanted some bits off of one sometime, though mostly for show. How sick would a deathclaw fang necklace be, after all?

     You appear to be approaching the small one instead of fleeing.

     “Watch and learn, Hal,” Bro said as he shifted his weight and began to run. Aching feet or not, his boots cut into the crisp cooked layer of topsoil and sank ever so slightly with each step. The deathclaw noticed him and turned, beginning to awkwardly run towards him, long limbs ungainly but just as deadly as an adult. They met in the middle, Bro’s sword singing off the armored hide of the creature’s forearms, taking a chunk with it as he went. The deathclaw lunged for his middle with a shrill noise, catching a chunk of shirt on the end of one of its spiky hands, but just missing his tender vitals. He turned, and used the momentum to slice at the space where its behorned head connected to its body, the sword sliding against softer skin. Staggered, the small deathclaw stepped forward, then tottered back unsteadily as it began to bleed out.

     Bro lifted a foot and kicked the creature backwards to its spiny back, then followed with the sword to spear its chest, cranking the blade to the side once it glanced off a rib, forcing downwards till it stopped moving. Planting his boot on its chest, he yanked his sword free and swung it in the air a few times to rid it of blood, and smirked. Fuck, that felt good. Nothing like taking out a little nightmare to give a nice rush of adrenaline and dopamine. Hell, he wouldn’t even say no to a smoke or a drink right now, ride that high long as he could.

     Excellent, now how do you intend to deal with the mother?

     “Mother?” Bro asked, about a half second before he felt something plow into him like a freight train, sending him flying and pain searing through his right shoulder blade. He landed flat on his face and skidded before rolling over, hand on his sword raising it defensively and other hand reaching for his gun.

     Shit. Shit, shit, this was definitely a mother death claw, the hide was darker than usual. He must’ve just killed one of her brood. Not a good look for someone not interested in dying in the middle of nowhere. He fired a quick two shots, missing the first and nailing her in the left eye  with the second, though it only seemed to make her more enraged after a brief second of shaking her head. She raised a hand and slashed downwards where Bro was scooting backwards, forcing him to block with a weakened grip before the second slash sang home across his chest, blood spurting where her claws shredded flesh and fabric alike. One of the straps of Bro’s bags was severed, leaving him half dragging it as he continued to try crawling backwards, firing till his clip was empty.

     Hal was urgently trying to tell him something, but Bro couldn’t hear anymore, couldn’t think, could only focus on the burning in his chest and the taste of copper in his mouth. Things were flashing through his mind as he stared down the deathclaw, who was raising both of her hands for a double slash that he wouldn’t be able to block in the slightest. Things he still wanted to do, to say. Memories.

     Dave the day he left home to travel to the city, bag on his back and barely a look back as he wove past the traps. Dave as a lanky tween, perched by his side on the counter top as he cooked an omelette for them both, telling him a joke that he still didn’t think was funny but that he’d laughed at anyway. Dave at five, sitting on his lap as he fiddled with a new project that would eventually become a birthday present game for him, looking up at him with big red eyes almost full of tears when he refused to tell him what he was working on.

     Dave, still struggling to put weight on as an infant as Bro kept him warm on the sofa through a bout of fever, trying to coax him into eating just a bit more from the bottle, wondering if he should make the trek to find a doctor or keep hunkering down and hoping it would work itself out. Being scared out of his fucking mind about this tiny, sick thing in his arms and on his chest, worried he’d break if he moved wrong.

     This wasn’t fear he felt. It was acceptance. Dave being sick or hurt was fear, even when he’d been the one to hurt him in the preparations he’d run repeatedly over the years. A deathclaw? This was his just rewards for being cocky without backup. He wanted to have time to apologize to Dave, like he always really meant to.

     He wanted to apologize to Hal, too, for not managing to take him to get his body. For getting his hopes up about Dirk and then dying with him in the middle of nowhere. Maybe the shades would get crushed by the deathclaw after he died, spare him much misery. They’d both just go out like a candle in the breeze and nobody would be any the wiser.

     A shot rang out, and blood spurted from the side of the deathclaw’s head. She staggered, stomping her sharp feet on his abdomen and legs as she adjusted her balance and snarled in alarm at the new threat. More shots, each one more precise than the last, till finally one hit the same eye he’d shot earlier, and the beast went down on top of him. Though his ears were still ringing, Bro could feel his pulse slowing down and everything going darker as the feeling of faintness took over.

     Bro. Bro!

     “Sorry, Dave,” he mumbled, blood on his lips and eyes unfocusing as red eyes stared at him. No, wait, not Dave. “Hal..”

     AMBROSE.

     The last thing Bro was aware of was a high pitched repeated beeping pattern ringing out from the shades on his face, a signal he knew so well. Anyone out here could recognize SOS when they heard it, but Bro couldn’t care anymore who did hear it.

     Darkness claimed him.

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

     “...p. See? I think he’s waking up! Jake, push more fluids!”

     “I’m going as fast as I can, don’t you think he’d bl-........”

     “...ver if we don’t. Sometimes you have to do dangerous things in a time of crisis, just pu-...”

     “...rry chap, we’re doing our best. Why were you playing with a deathclaw mot-...”

     “...’s going under again, God damn it why don’t we have more gauze!”

     “...aid last time we wouldn’t need that many, let me check his ba-...”

     “....tting sick, stupid coat, ugh! Hand me a clo-...”

     “...ehozaphat he’s rolling in meds and chems! Lookit all this, it’s a kings ran-...”

     “...ab whatever you can, inject him with at least two, and hand the alcohol to me so I ca-...”

     “...nk he’ll make it? He’s in an awful way, Jade. We’re still at least a few miles out fro-...”

     “...re he’ll make it, we just need to hur-...”

     ...ve him. Please. Pulse is falling at an alarming ra-...

     “...re trying our best, believe me, it’s up to him if we ca-...”

     ...n’t lose him to-...

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

     When Ambrose woke, it was to clean sheets and a bright light coming from a window. He reached up to touch his face and panicked to realize the shades weren’t on him any longer, looking around as he tried to sit stark upright to look around. Tried being the correct term, considering when he got a few inches upright his abdomen and chest sang with burning pain and forced him to lay back on an aching shoulder. Sighing an exhale, Bro took the room and himself into account.

     The room itself looked to be a standard medical setup for a scap town, shelves of supplies and a few more beds shoved into the same room with him, a shabby gray curtain sectioning the space off from another area. He was laying on a cot with the aforementioned clean sheets, which were a hell of a commodity, and wrapped what felt like head to toe in bandages. His chest had padding underneath that seemed fresh enough, as well as his abdomen, and another bandage seemed to be wrapping his shoulder. His forearms had bandages, a shift of his legs revealed smaller areas of wrappings and-

     Bro snatched the sheets and lifted them upwards, looking down towards his groin in worry. Okay. Phew. Dick still there and in one piece, no need to panic. Thank fuck.

     Were you honestly more concerned for your dick than me? Came a voice from the top of the shelves, arms folded in and tucked at an angle to not get damaged or in the way.

     “To be fair, I’ve been attached to my dick longer than you,” Bro said, giving another try at this standing thing and getting as far as sitting upright before he had to stop, dizzy. He was also connected to an IV he realized, two bags half drained already and the tether attached to his arm carefully with another bandage and some tape to keep it from moving. One of the bags was unmistakably blood. “Where’s my stuff.”

     I’m fine, thank you for asking. I can really tell you were concerned for my safety after being nearly disemboweled. I can also tell you’re just dying to know how you went about not dying.

     “My stuff, Hal.”

     In the other room, safe and fucking sound.

     “Thank you. Gimme a second and I’ll come get you,” Bro said, running a hand through his hair. He realized with surprise that it was clean instead of gritty with sand and dust and blood, freshly washed like the rest of him. Someone had taken care to wash him thoroughly it seemed. Hell, even his fingernails were spotless. Shocking. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this squeaky clean, it was almost a shame he didn’t remember it. “How long have I been out?”

     Almost a week.

     “Jesus,” Bro rasped as he finally stood up on shaky fawn legs, reaching for the IV stand for balance before making his way over to the shelf, naked as the day he was born save for the bandages. He groped for the shades hurriedly when he started feeling faint again, and had just grabbed them when the curtain pulled back.

     A tall girl with dark skin, shocking green eyes and long wild hair tied back into evenly sectioned ponytails stood owl eyed behind large round glasses with a single crack in the left lens, a stethoscope around her neck and familiar leftover military gear covering her from head to toe. She frowned, and immediately rushed forward to grab Bro by the elbow and middle of his back, steering him back to bed.

     “How long have you been awake!” she asked. “Why didn’t you wait till someone came to help you? Are you in pain? Do you need any water? Food?”

     “Few minutes,” Bro said, more than a little startled. He sat and covered himself soon as he could, but the young woman didn’t back off in the slightest, swooping close to shine a pocket light in his eyes, checking his pupils.

     “Has there been any bleeding? Any night terrors? Do you have any numbness or weaknesses?”

     “I feel like shit, but otherwise,” Bro said, grimacing and jerking his head back from her grasp as she turned the light off.

     “I’ll get Jake to bring some lunch in for you, I’m glad you’re not running on glucose anymore. Actually, I’m glad you’re running at all,” she said with a grin. Her canines were strangely sharp looking. “My name is Jade Harley, and I’m half of the reason you’re alive right now.”

     “Is the chap who tried to cuddle the wrong end of a mother deathclaw awake yet?” asked another voice from beyond the open curtain.

     “He is! Get some of those mirelurk cakes and mac and cheese, please?”

     “I’ll bring some of that slackjaw jerky too, I imagine he’s half starved for real food,” said the male out of sight, before Bro heard distant sounds of dishes and metal scraping metal.

     “...So what, you a doctor?” he guessed.

     “We both are, in our own right. My cousin, Jake English, is the one who spotted you first out there. The primary reason you’re alive, however, is because we’re both sharpshooters! There wouldn’t have been much left to save if we hadn’t pegged that bitch into the dirt,” she said enthusiastically.

     Bro’s lip twitched in amusement. This person couldn’t have been older than her early twenties, but she was a doctor? And a sharpshooter?

     “So who really saved me?”

     Jade’s smile sharpened somewhat, looking predatory. “I don’t think I’d tease like that when you’re still so weak. All it’d take is a cushion to take you out right now, I bet.”

     “Sorry, just. You’re so young…” he trailed off as another figure entered the room with a dinner tray. This person didn’t look much older than Jade if he was a day, face clean shaven and hair styled but messy, standing at about the same height. He looked much more solid, though, shoulders broad and chest straining a little at the fatigues shirt he wore, and his demeanor seemed much sweeter than his cousin at first glance. More innocent somehow, or somehow less aware of the intensity of their surroundings.

     “Here you are, I’ll get some juice for you as well in a few ticks. First time I’m seeing this much of your outside as opposed to your inside since we got you scrubbed down!” he laughed, setting the tray on Bro’s lap. The food smelled fresh and was warm on his thighs beneath the sheet, mirelurk cakes looking greasy and delicious, mac and cheese that smelled plenty creamy from the box, and some kind of soft looking jerky rubbed with spices that made his mouth water as much as the fresh stuff before him

     “Try to eat slow,” Jade warned him as Jake trotted back out of view for a moment and came back with juice as promised. “Hope apple’s okay! It’s what we’ve got.”

     “Apple’s fine,” Bro promised, tucking into the mac and cheese first, eyes closing in bliss. Salty, creamy, rich. He could feel it flooding his system already, a body starved for nutrients beyond the bare minimum of functioning and safety. Once he shoveled a second bite into his mouth, he slid the shades onto his face and grinned a bit when haughty red eyes looked at him. Hal was clearly annoyed, angry even, but those eyes were full of concern too.

     “We’ve got tea too, though not everyone enjoys what we brew,” Jake chuckled.

     “Their loss, it’s delicious,” said Jade with a shake of her head.

     Scans show temperature readings as normal. Pulse normal. Pupils overly reactive to light, but not abnormal.

     “I hope he didn’t talk your leg off,” Bro said. “He’s kind of annoyin’.”

     You have terminal stupidity, I propose an immediate lobotomy to put you out of my misery.

     “Will you knock it off for ten seconds and let me eat before rippin’ me a new one?”

     It’s true. The doctor said so. You’re just stupid.

     “You were snuck up on by a creature twice your size in the wasteland,” Jade pointed out with a smirk. “Though I’m glad Hal’s giving you a positive reading. He was quite useful while we were saving you.”

     “How much did he talk,” Bro wondered aloud.

     “A bit,” she admitted. “We discussed why you were traveling, though he wasn’t that talkative about details. He let us know about Dave when you kept saying his name, in case you didn’t make it. He wanted us to be sure to let him know, and to send your other letters.”

     “You’re a long way from home,” Jake chimed in, taking a seat on the nearest bed to talk while Bro shook his head and went back to eating. “But it’s all fine now. Er.. mostly.”

     “How much do I owe you,” Bro said almost immediately, breaking a mirelurk cake in half with his fork before stuffing it into his mouth. He’d worry about manners when he wasn’t sitting in a room with two strangers who’d apparently saved his life and seen him in more detail naked than anyone else had in years.

     “We’ll figure out caps in a little bit,” Jade said. “You’re going to need to stay here a while longer either way, and we had to use a lot of your medical supplies.”

     “Helped ourselves to a little bit of your food as well, but mostly it was the chems and supplies we needed at the moment. Lucky for us you were damn near carrying a medics inventory on your back!”

     “Yeah, I just got through a vault,” Bro said. “Place hadn’t been looted yet till I got there.”

     “A vault!” Jake interjected excitedly. “Was it like they say, all sterile and eerily perfect?”

     “It was full of the people who used to live there, and they weren’t human anymore,” Bro said simply.

     It was quite a show to see that many feral ghouls get put down in one go.

     “Oh, that doesn’t sound very dapper.”

     “Vaults rarely are. They’re either fulla deadly shit, full of a shit load’a nothin’, or fulla people who don’t want you to bother them because you’re all gross from bein’ outside and they know you just want the goodies they’ve got.”

     “My grandpa was from a vault,” Jade said with a grin. “He’s the one who raised both of us, taught us everything we know.”

     They traded conversation for a time while Bro continued to eat, though it waned when he finished and looked exhausted, surprised that the very act of eating took so much energy out of him. Jake took the tray away and Jade performed a followup examination as Bro settled back tiredly on the pillows. Before she left, he requested his belongings, or what was left of them.

     He had an important letter to write.

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

     Bro’s head ached sickly by the time he finished writing the letter, nearly as much as his heart, and his eyes were wet. He didn’t dare to rub at them, nor to even draaw attention to them, but the fact he’d cried while pouring his fucking soul out onto the page wasn’t something he’d admit to anyone. Hal, bless him, remained quiet aside from occasionally offering a correction on a phrase to make it sound better. At first Bro had resented the dictation, but found the changes in wording to be a positive thing, eliminating double meanings. What he ended up with was the letter he’d envisioned sending Dave when the deathclaw was about to do the killing strike, and the fewer mistakes and misunderstandings that could arise from it was for the better.

     It took another few days of resting, eating, and conversing with the doctors before Bro was strong enough to go for walks around the town. First thing was first: he paid express for his letter bundle to be sent to Dave along with some money, the most recently written one marked URGENT in bright red stamped letters. Secondly, he got himself a cola and drank the entire thing in one go. The doctors had been kind enough to spot him some clothes, since his shirt was ruined and his pants were scrapped in the moment by bloodshed and emergency bandage use on top of their general wear and tear. The down side was he hated fatigues… but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

     He was settled with another soda at the little bar and grill early one morning, having shared breakfast with Jade and Jake once more (his own recipe this time, which only Jake seemed enthusiastic about once they’d tasted the product), but wanting to just sit outside and enjoy the early morning before the sun really got going on cooking everything in the wasteland to death. Hal was quiet, watching as well he presumed based on the little target viewers moving around every time someone moved.

     What do you plan to do if you don’t get a reply?

     “Keep goin’,” he said with a shrug, taking a sip. “I’m not expecting a reply to any of my letters, but he knows which way we’re headed if he wants to write back. Kid knows how to use a map of settlements to send ahead of the curb if he wants to.”

     ...I was worried I lost you too, back there. But you’ve never once apologized to me yet.

     “Apologized for what?”

     For nearly making me watch someone I care about die. At least the first one had the decency to not die while wearinng me on his fucking face.

     Bro was pensive and stretched his long legs out from his seat before tipping it back on its hind legs, balancing in place as he took another sip.

     “I promise I won’t die while wearin’ you, then.”

     You f-

     “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you at all.”

     … That is acceptable I guess.

[metawitches]

But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media

Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers. I haven’t really been keeping the secret on purpose, but a lie of omission is still a lie, so please, try to forgive me. I don’t think this reveal will come as much of a shock to my regular readers.

The truth is, I have a deep, lifelong love of vampire romance. I’m open minded, and can consider other supernatural romances as well, but werewolves are so packminded that I question their devotion to their beloved. Ghosts seem so thin and superficial. Zombies are interested in brains, but I want more than just a relationship of the mind. Angels and demons both have to leave their beloveds in the lurch when they get called into service by the higher- and lower- powers they serve. A shapeshifter is an inconstant lover in so many ways, how could we ever develop trust?

There are exceptions: Oz from Buffy. The medieval ghosts of Lynn Kurland’s paranormal romance novels. The sentient zombies of In the Flesh. The married angel-demon couple from Midnight, Texas, another Charlaine Harris story. And no one is more trustworthy than True Blood’s own shapeshifter, Sam Merlotte.

As a general rule, witches and wizards are the only other supernatural beings I truly find exciting, with their wide range of abilities to charm or bewitch the pants off a girl, depending on the mood.

Since I’m a witch myself, and wizards are a dime a dozen, can you blame me for looking for a little more variety in my fantasy life?

Bring on the dark, brooding vampires, who are the epitome of devoted, romantic lovers, are immortal, manageably dangerous and adventurous, definitely where they’re supposed to be during the day, gorgeous and who can share their blood. Blood which, if used in small quantities, will heal without turning a human into a vampire, but which can also make the user immortal if desired, so they can share everlasting love with their vampire lover.

What could go wrong? Don’t answer that, we all need to discover some things for ourselves.

I admit, this is a hereditary issue for me. My mother and older sister sat me down in front of the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows in 1966, when I was 5 years old, to watch the trials and tribulations of vampire Barnabas Collins, of the supernatural Collins family of Collinsport, Maine. Collinsport was a mysterious town on the cold, rocky shores of northern Maine, just like the small towns in coastal northern Maine my mother’s family had lived in for 300 years, until my parents moved us to upstate NY.

With the amount of inbreeding that went on in the small early populations of northern New England, I wouldn’t be surprised if I share some relatives in common with Barnabas Collins. 😉 I certainly share the vampire’s love of night and inability to handle strong light.

(Yes, I live in New Mexico, why do you ask? This is why hats, tinted glasses and long summers with warm nights were invented. True Blood is a Southern Gothic for a reason. The Twilight vampires can keep their rain soaked, cold climates.)

I still have a copy with this original cover.

Dark Shadows ran for 6 seasons, through 1971. Then I moved on to films and book series, most notably Anne Rice. I received 2 copies of her book Interview with the Vampire for my 16th birthday, in 1977, because my friends and family knew me well, and I haven’t looked back since. Though the author clearly favors the character Lestat, tenderhearted Louis will always be my favorite of her vampires. He is, after all, the vampire who was interviewed.

There were other favorites through the years, such as the film The Lost Boys in 1987 and the Dark Shadows revival in 1991. There were viral vampires, such as The Strain and The Passage, descendants of Nosferatu rather than Dracula. Viral vampires are better not mentioned if you prefer your vampires to be romantic. There was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, film and series. Who could resist Angel? He was so irresistible that David Boreanaz has starred in one TV series or another continuously ever since. I definitely resisted Spike, though I know others didn’t.

There was The Vampire Diaries on The CW, which ran for 8 seasons (2009-17) and spawned 2 spin off series, The Originals (2013-18) and Legacies (2018- ). The first 4 seasons of The Vampire Diaries were as good as any vampire media I’ve seen anywhere. I lost interest when the storylines were watered down by splitting the cast to create spin offs and some of my favorite actors left the franchise, but those vampires are obviously still doing it for others.

Over the years, Ann Rice has written more than a dozen books on vampires, plus other series on other supernaturals, some with her son, Christopher Rice. She managed to make a mummy sexy. Her original vampire trilogy was turned into two mediocre films. I also had a fling with Katie MacAlister’s Dark Ones book series in the 00s, a fun vampire soulmate series. Now I notice she’s added a few installments since I last checked in with it about 10 years ago so, yay! Something else to read over the winter.

The big vampire story of the 00s was Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight book series, which my kids and I shared the way I’d shared Dark Shadows with my family as a child. The Twilight films were terrible, terrible things. I recommend skipping them. But as with so much that’s perceived to be originally aimed at teenage girls, the Twilight books have been unfairly maligned. They are full of universal themes and vivid characters.

Bella is a great character for anyone to follow and she has a romance to die for. She does so much more than have a boyfriend and a baby in her books, but even if that’s all she did, it would be enough. Navigating personal relationships is a huge part of life, and for someone from a background of abuse and neglect, like Bella, learning how to have healthy relationships when you are older is a long term challenge.

If it takes a vampire family to show you what real love, care, equal relationships and decent parenting look like, there’s nothing wrong with that. There are very good reasons why Bella’s romance is in love not just with Edward, but with his entire clan. Because of her childhood experiences, she’s in love with the idea of transforming from a human who has difficulty defending herself against the human monsters in her world, who include her parents, into a vampire who can protect herself and her entire devoted vampire family from even the fiercest of supernatural monsters. After a youth full of struggle, she finds her own power and uses it on her own terms to win a war, in addition to conducting an epic vampire romance.

There was a last, forgotten, one and done vampire TV series of the 00s, Moonlight, on CBS, starring Alex O’Loughlin, who quickly went on to become better known as Steve McGarrett in the Hawaii Five-0 revival, and Jason Dohring of Veronica Mars. Moonlight aired during the 2007-08 season, so it was affected by the infamous, endless writers’ strike which killed more than 1 show that year. It was just hitting its stride when the season was cut short.

As a vampire romance noir which explored multiple historical time periods plus the present day, it was sadly ahead of its time for broadcast TV. Plus, though the show had already been completely recast after early sample filming (except for Alex O’Loughlin), the writing still focused too much on the relationship between O’Loughlin’s main vampire character, Mick St John, and the lead ingenue human female, Beth (Sophia Myles), rather than the much more interesting and complex relationship between Mick and his ancient vampire, on again-off again wife and maker, Coraline (Shannyn Sossamon).

The show was course correcting in that direction when it ended after 16 episodes, an unusually short season in those days. I would be thrilled with a reboot of Moonlight that was done right. (It’s currently streaming on cwseed.com.)

Alas, the media deities rarely listen to my brilliant ideas, so we are subject to the slings and arrows and fangs of outrageous fortune. But just 4 short months after Moonlight went off the air, a new vampire romance rolled into town, and it wasn’t shy about telling us what it wanted. True Blood was the answer to all my vampire romance prayers.

Let’s Finally Review True Blood Season 1

True Blood aired on HBO for 7 seasons, for a total of 80 episodes, from the fall of 2008 to the summer of 2014. It’s based on the 13-14 book series The Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. The TV series was created by Alan Ball, who was handpicked by Charlaine Harris because she felt he understood what she was trying to do with the books. He stayed on as showrunner for the first 5 seasons, which were all critically acclaimed.

The TV series stars Anna Paquin as Sookie Stackhouse, a telepathic waitress who lives in Bon Temps, a small town in rural Louisiana. Sookie sees her telepathy as a disability because she has a hard time turning it off, which makes it difficult to concentrate on anything else or to have normal human relationships. As a result, she’s socially isolated, other than a few close friends and her family- the warm, generous grandmother she lives with, Adele, known as Gran (Lois Smith), and her charming but selfish, promiscuous brother, Jason (Ryan Kwanten).

Sookie works at her friend Sam Merlotte’s bar and restaurant (Sam Trammell), where she’s also friends with much married fellow waitress Arlene (Carrie Preston) and fabulous short-order cook and hustler, Lafayette (Nelsan Ellis). Her best friend and Lafayette’s cousin, Tara (Rutina Wesley), begins working at Merlotte’s as a bartender at the beginning of the series. Most of the town passes through Merlotte’s at one time or another, since it’s a popular local hangout.

Sookie’s parents died in a flash flood when she was a child, but other than that and her telepathy, her life has been normal, even humdrum. Until vampires came out of the coffin a few years ago, as far as she knew there was nothing extraordinary about the world. She still has no idea why she’s psychic.

A synthetic blood which can sustain vampires, known by the brand name Tru Blood, has encouraged vampires to take the controversial step of revealing themselves as a species to humans. Amongst both vampires and humans, some have embraced this revelation and some fear what it will mean for the future. Sookie makes her very first vampire acquaintance, with the vampire Bill Compton (Stephen Moyer), when he stops by Merlotte’s to try a Tru Blood. Bill is attempting to mainstream, meaning he’s trying to blend in with humans as much as possible, rather than living the full vampire lifestyle, which naturally disregards human manners and customs. Normal vampire ways tend to alienate normal humans fairly quickly. They can even be deadly for humans.

Vampire blood can be used as a recreational drug, so there are dealers who capture vampires, drain their blood, then sell it. Sometimes they kill the vampire in the process. In the first episode, an unethical couple lure Bill into the parking lot to drain him, which Sookie overhears using her telepathic ability. Sookie is surprised to discover how easily some silver and the promise of a tasty snack can disarm a vampire. She rescues Bill and their relationship is born.

Due to the images her telepathy puts in her head, Sookie has never been able to date human men, so Bill is her first boyfriend. His main attraction is that she’s unable to read his mind. Perhaps because they are technically dead, vampire minds are a blank to her. For a telepath who’s always “on”, this is soothing.

True Blood season 1 is a Southern Gothic, paranormal, horror, mystery, romance, urban fantasy, much the same as the book it’s based on, Charlaine Harris’ Dead Until Dark. Though the subject matter is intense, the writing is relatively fast-paced and there’s a dark comedy element to it that keeps the horror aspect from becoming overwhelming. The show isn’t as light and breezy as the books; in addition to the book’s humor it uses visuals and a heightened reality to emphasize the outrageous nature of Sookie’s world. The characters frequently comment on that outrageousness and on the ironies taking place around them.

In season 1, there’s a serial killer on the loose who provides the season long mystery arc. The killer is after young women who’ve been with both vampires and human men. Since Sookie has a vampire boyfriend and is frequently around other men, she eventually becomes one of the targets.

The show’s theme song, Bad Things, by Jace Everett, perfectly encapsulates the mood of True Blood. It’s an upbeat country song that promises an out of control romance, which plays over the opening credit sequence of each episode. Humans and animals experiencing intense situations flash by, while names are superimposed over them. The activities in the visuals aren’t necessarily even immoral, they’re just filmed in a way that makes them feel creepy, until you aren’t sure anymore what’s actually bad and what’s just making you feel bad.

Like an insidious vampire who wants to have his way with us, the opening credits act to lower our boundaries and confuse us, so that we’re disoriented and easily taken out of our normal lives. Whether we’re being glamoured, romanced, drugged or conned, the first step is to convince us to leave our previous concept of normal behind.

The first year I watched True Blood, I thought the opening sequence was the grossest, most horrible opening credits sequence ever made. Now I love it and think it’s one of the best. Is that a good development or a bad one? *shrug* I still can’t watch the maggots though. The vampires haven’t completely taken me over.

True Blood continues to lower our defenses and push our boundaries once the opening credits end. Vampires and shapeshifters are welcomed into normal society. They take part in panels on CNN, discussing legal changes which have been proposed to help or hinder their assimilation. They stop at the 7-11 to pick up a 6 pack on their way home. They have difficulty getting a contractor to come out to their rural home and need a referral from a friend. They are business owners, employers and employees.  They worry about getting blood stains out of their laundry. Possibly a little more often than most of us, but still.

They sleep underground in the graveyard when they can’t make it home before dawn. It’s sort of like crashing at a friend’s house. Okay, that one is pushing the boundaries of normal human culture. There is an entire vampire culture that exists outside of human sight, but we only touch the surface of it in season 1.

Sookie is drawn into this world as she seeks to solve the murder mystery and enlists Bill’s help. She visits a vampire bar run by the ancient vampire sheriff, Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgård) and his vampire progeny, Pam (Kristin Bauer van Straten). They learn of her telepathy and seek to use her talents to solve their own mysteries.

Shenanigans ensue for 7 unparalleled seasons.

True Blood Season 1 vs The Southern Vampire Mysteries Book 1 (Dead Until Dark)

True Blood season 1 follows Dead Until Dark, the first book in the series, closely, using the same serial killer plot as the main mystery storyline and Sookie’s romance with Bill as the supernatural focus. The book was originally published in 2001 and my 2008 paperback copy is a quick 292 page read.

Neither the TV season nor the book are my favorite of their respective series, mainly because I am emphatically not a fan of Bill Compton and eventually I start to gag over the way Sookie continuously drools over him. But they are both entertaining and introduce the world of Sookie and Bon Temps with enough suspense, heart and humor to draw you into the next book and season.

In season 1, the TV series faithfully recreates Charlaine Harris’ version of Sookie’s world, from Gran’s old but well-loved farmhouse to Eric Northman’s vampire tourist bar, Fangtasia. The series also included mainly the same characters and subplots as the book, with a few alterations. The main difference is that the TV show expanded on plotlines that were only briefly mentioned in the book, such as recreational V(ampire blood) consumption by humans, Lafayette’s off hours activities and the vampires’ struggle for equal rights.

Many of the supporting characters and their backstories are much more developed in True Blood season 1 than they are in book 1. This is an unusual difference between a book and a movie, but it’s not as surprising when you realize that the Sookie Stackhouse novels are narrated in the first person by Sookie herself. Expanding on other characters isn’t a priority for her, even though it could be aided by her telepathy. She’s basically obsessed with Vampire Bill and the murders in this book, whereas she’s known the other characters her whole life. It’s natural for her to have little interest in providing extra details, so she tells us enough, but we don’t get a full biography.

Two characters who go on to appear in multiple books are left out of the TV series, Bubba and JB du Rone. Bubba is based on a very famous real life singer, so they probably figured he’d be distracting, as he typically is in the books. JB du Rone is a sweet man-child who shares some similarities with Lafayette and eventually becomes close to Tara. I suspect the Lafayette we see on screen is actually meant to be a composite character, with many tweaks and Lafayette’s brains.

The biggest change from Dead Until Dark is the addition of Tara Thornton to the cast. In the books she doesn’t appear until the 2nd installment, Living Dead in Dallas. Several major season 1 subplots revolve around Tara, including the set up for the main storyline for season 2, and she’s heavily involved in other characters’ plot arcs as well. Rutina Wesley is such a vibrant presence that it’s hard to imagine Bon Temps without her version of Tara, so this was certainly a welcome change. With Tara comes her alcoholic mother, Lettie Mae, played by one of my favorite actresses, Adina Porter.

Another notable change is the expansion of the storyline for book character Amy Burley, played by Lizzy Caplan. She and Jason become involved with a vampire played the Man in the High Castle himself, Stephen Root, with disastrous consequences, but it’s fun while it lasts. The Amy-Jason-V subplot is particularly effective, with its psychedelic visuals, sometimes subtle violence and obsessive relationships.

The actors and the visuals drive home the multiple abuse aspects of this plotline in a way that would be much more difficult using only words. The genius of True Blood is that the writing, acting, music and visuals come together to make an entertaining, memorable show while showing the dark side of society and how that dark underbelly can bring pain and pleasure. But True Blood wouldn’t exist if Charlaine Harris’ genius hadn’t already given us the snarky, bold, scandalous world they are elaborating on.

True Blood is streaming on HBO’s websites and Amazon Prime. Charlaine Harris has a new book in her current Gunnie Rose series, A Longer Fall, coming out in January 2020. Until then, I’m amusing myself by revisiting Sookie Stackhouse.

Images belong to those who created them.

Book vs Screen Review: True Blood Season 1 vs Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris-But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media-Bring on the dark, brooding vampires. #TrueBlood #CharlaineHarris But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers.

[metawitches]

But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media

Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers. I haven’t really been keeping the secret on purpose, but a lie of omission is still a lie, so please, try to forgive me. I don’t think this reveal will come as much of a shock to my regular readers.

The truth is, I have a deep, lifelong love of vampire romance. I’m open minded, and can consider other supernatural romances as well, but werewolves are so packminded that I question their devotion to their beloved. Ghosts seem so thin and superficial. Zombies are interested in brains, but I want more than just a relationship of the mind. Angels and demons both have to leave their beloveds in the lurch when they get called into service by the higher- and lower- powers they serve. A shapeshifter is an inconstant lover in so many ways, how could we ever develop trust?

There are exceptions: Oz from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The medieval ghosts of Lynn Kurland’s paranormal romance novels. The sentient zombies of In the Flesh. The married angel-demon couple from Midnight, Texas, another Charlaine Harris story. And no one is more trustworthy than True Blood’s own shapeshifter, Sam Merlotte.

As a general rule, witches and wizards are the only other supernatural beings I truly find exciting, with their wide range of abilities to charm or bewitch the pants off a girl, depending on the mood.

Since I’m a witch myself, and wizards are a dime a dozen, can you blame me for looking for a little more variety in my fantasy life?

Bring on the dark, brooding vampires, who are the epitome of devoted, romantic lovers, are immortal, manageably dangerous and adventurous, definitely where they’re supposed to be during the day, gorgeous and who can share their blood. Blood which, if used in small quantities, will heal without turning a human into a vampire, but which can also make the user immortal if desired, so they can share everlasting love with their vampire lover.

What could go wrong? Don’t answer that, we all need to discover some things for ourselves.

I admit, this is a hereditary issue for me. My mother and older sister sat me down in front of the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows in 1966, when I was 5 years old, to watch the trials and tribulations of vampire Barnabas Collins, of the supernatural Collins family of Collinsport, Maine. Collinsport was a mysterious town on the cold, rocky shores of northern Maine, just like the small towns in coastal northern Maine my mother’s family lived in for 300 years, until my parents moved us to upstate NY.

With the amount of inbreeding that went on in the small early populations of northern New England, I wouldn’t be surprised if I share some relatives in common with Barnabas Collins. 😉 I certainly share the vampire’s love of night and inability to handle strong light.

(Yes, I live in sunny New Mexico, why do you ask? This is why hats, tinted glasses and long summers with warm nights were invented. True Blood is a sultry Southern Gothic for a reason. The Twilight vampires can keep their rain soaked, cold climates.)

I still have a copy with this original cover.

Dark Shadows ran for 6 seasons, through 1971. Then I moved on to films and book series, most notably Anne Rice. I received 2 copies of her book Interview with the Vampire for my 16th birthday, in 1977, because my friends and family knew me well, and I haven’t looked back since. Though the author clearly favors the character Lestat, tenderhearted Louis will always be my favorite of her vampires. He is, after all, the vampire who was interviewed.

There were other favorites through the years, such as the film The Lost Boys in 1987 and the Dark Shadows revival in 1991. There were viral vampires, such as The Strain and The Passage, descendants of Nosferatu rather than Dracula. It’s better not to mention viral vampires if you prefer your vampires to be romantic.

There was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, film and series. Who could resist Angel? He was so irresistible that David Boreanaz has starred in one TV series or another continuously ever since. I definitely resisted Spike, though I know others didn’t.

There was The Vampire Diaries on The CW, which ran for 8 seasons (2009-17) and spawned 2 spin off series, The Originals (2013-18) and Legacies (2018- ). The first 4 seasons of The Vampire Diaries were as good as any vampire media I’ve seen anywhere. I lost interest when the storylines were watered down by splitting the cast to create spin offs and some of my favorite actors left the franchise, but those vampires are obviously still doing it for others.

Over the years, Ann Rice has written more than a dozen books on vampires, plus more series on other supernaturals, some with her son, Christopher Rice. She managed to make a mummy sexy. Her original vampire trilogy was turned into two mediocre films. I also had a fling with Katie MacAlister’s Dark Ones book series in the 00s, a fun vampire soulmate series. Now I notice she’s added a few installments since I last checked in with it about 10 years ago so, yay! Something else to read over the winter.

The big vampire story of the 00s was Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight book series, which my kids and I shared the way I’d shared Dark Shadows with my family as a child. The Twilight films were terrible, terrible things. I recommend skipping them. But as with so much that’s perceived to be originally aimed at teenage girls, the Twilight books have been unfairly maligned. They are full of universal themes and vivid characters.

Bella is a great character for anyone to follow and she has a romance to die for. She does so much more than have a boyfriend and a baby in her books, but even if that’s all she did, it would be enough. Navigating personal relationships is a huge part of life, and for someone from a background of abuse and neglect, like Bella, learning how to have healthy relationships when you are older is a long term challenge.

If it takes a vampire family to show you what real love, care, equal relationships and decent parenting look like, there’s nothing wrong with that. There are very good reasons why Bella’s romance is not just with Edward, but with his entire clan. Because of her childhood experiences, she’s in love with the idea of transforming from a human who has difficulty defending herself against the human monsters in her world, who include her parents, into a vampire who can protect herself and her entire devoted vampire family from even the fiercest of supernatural monsters. After a youth full of struggle, she finds her own power and uses it on her own terms to win a war, in addition to conducting an epic vampire romance.

There was a last, forgotten, one and done vampire TV series of the 00s, Moonlight, on CBS, starring Alex O’Loughlin, who quickly went on to become better known as Steve McGarrett in the Hawaii Five-0 revival, and Jason Dohring of Veronica Mars. Moonlight aired during the 2007-08 season, so it was affected by the infamous, endless writers’ strike which killed more than 1 show that year. It was just hitting its stride when the season was cut short.

As a vampire romance noir which explored multiple historical time periods plus the present day, it was sadly ahead of its time for broadcast TV. Plus, though the show had already been completely recast after early sample filming (except for Alex O’Loughlin), the writing still focused too much on the relationship between O’Loughlin’s main vampire character, Mick St John, and the lead ingenue human female, Beth (Sophia Myles), rather than the much more interesting and complex relationship between Mick and his ancient, vampire, on again-off again wife and maker, Coraline (Shannyn Sossamon).

The show was course correcting in that direction when it ended after 16 episodes, an unusually short season in those days. I would be thrilled with a reboot of Moonlight that was done right. (It’s currently streaming on cwseed.com.)

Alas, the media deities rarely listen to my brilliant ideas, so we are subject to the slings and arrows and fangs of outrageous fortune. But just 4 short months after Moonlight went off the air, a new vampire romance rolled into town, and it wasn’t shy about telling us what it wanted. True Blood was the answer to all my vampire romance prayers.

Let’s Finally Review True Blood Season 1

True Blood aired on HBO for 7 seasons, for a total of 80 episodes, from the fall of 2008 to the summer of 2014. It’s based on the 13-14 book series The Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. The TV series was created by Alan Ball, who was handpicked by Charlaine Harris because she felt he understood what she was trying to do with the books. He stayed on as showrunner for the first 5 seasons, which were all critically acclaimed.

The TV series stars Anna Paquin as Sookie Stackhouse, a telepathic waitress who lives in Bon Temps, a small town in rural Louisiana. Sookie sees her telepathy as a disability because she has a hard time turning it off, which makes it difficult to concentrate on anything else or to have normal human relationships. As a result, she’s socially isolated, other than a few close friends and her family- the warm, generous grandmother she lives with, Adele, known as Gran (Lois Smith), and her charming but selfish, promiscuous brother, Jason (Ryan Kwanten).

Sookie works at her friend Sam Merlotte’s bar and restaurant (Sam Trammell), where she’s also friends with much married fellow waitress Arlene (Carrie Preston) and fabulous short-order cook and hustler, Lafayette (Nelsan Ellis). Her best friend and Lafayette’s cousin, Tara (Rutina Wesley), begins working at Merlotte’s as a bartender at the beginning of the series. Most of the town passes through Merlotte’s at one time or another, since it’s a popular local hangout.

Sookie’s parents died in a flash flood when she was a child, but other than that and her telepathy, her life has been normal, even humdrum. Until vampires came out of the coffin a few years ago, as far as she knew there was nothing extraordinary about the world. She still has no idea why she’s psychic.

A synthetic blood which can sustain vampires, known by the brand name Tru Blood, has encouraged vampires to take the controversial step of revealing themselves as a species to humans. Amongst both vampires and humans, some have embraced this revelation and some fear what it will mean for the future. Sookie makes her very first vampire acquaintance, with the vampire Bill Compton (Stephen Moyer), when he stops by Merlotte’s to try a Tru Blood. Bill is attempting to mainstream, meaning he’s trying to blend in with humans as much as possible, rather than living the full vampire lifestyle, which naturally disregards human manners and customs. Normal vampire ways tend to alienate normal humans fairly quickly. They can even be deadly for humans.

Vampire blood can be used as a recreational drug, so there are dealers who capture vampires, drain their blood, then sell it. Sometimes they kill the vampire in the process. In the first episode, an unethical couple lure Bill into the parking lot to drain him, which Sookie overhears using her telepathic ability. Sookie is surprised to discover how easily some silver and the promise of a tasty snack can disarm a vampire. She rescues Bill and their relationship is born.

Due to the images her telepathy puts in her head, Sookie has never been able to date human men, so Bill is her first boyfriend. His main attraction is that she’s unable to read his mind. Perhaps because they are technically dead, vampire minds are a blank to her. For a telepath who’s always “on”, this is soothing.

True Blood season 1 is a Southern Gothic, paranormal, horror, mystery, romance, urban fantasy, much the same as the book it’s based on, Charlaine Harris’ Dead Until Dark. Though the subject matter is intense, the writing is relatively fast-paced and there’s a dark comedy element to it that keeps the horror aspect from becoming overwhelming. The show isn’t as light and breezy as the books; in addition to the book’s humor it uses visuals and a heightened reality to emphasize the outrageous nature of Sookie’s world. The characters frequently comment on that outrageousness and on the ironies taking place around them.

In season 1, there’s a serial killer on the loose who provides the season long mystery arc. The killer is after young women who’ve been with both vampires and human men. Since Sookie has a vampire boyfriend and is frequently around other men, she eventually becomes one of the targets.

The show’s theme song, Bad Things, by Jace Everett, perfectly encapsulates the mood of True Blood. It’s an upbeat country song that promises an out of control romance, which plays over the opening credit sequence of each episode. Humans and animals experiencing intense situations flash by, while names are superimposed over them. The activities in the visuals aren’t necessarily even immoral, they’re just filmed in a way that makes them feel creepy, until you aren’t sure anymore what’s actually bad and what’s just making you feel bad.

Like an insidious vampire who wants to have his way with us, the opening credits act to lower our boundaries and confuse us, so that we’re disoriented and easily taken out of our normal lives. Whether we’re being glamoured, romanced, drugged or conned, the first step is to convince us to leave our previous concept of normal behind.

The first year I watched True Blood, I thought the opening sequence was the grossest, most horrible opening credits sequence ever made. Now I love it and think it’s one of the best. Is that a good development or a bad one? *shrug* I still can’t watch the maggots though. The vampires haven’t completely taken me over.

True Blood continues to lower our defenses and push our boundaries once the opening credits end. Vampires and shapeshifters are welcomed into normal society. They take part in panels on CNN, discussing legal changes which have been proposed to help or hinder their assimilation. They stop at the 7-11 to pick up a 6 pack on their way home. They have difficulty getting a contractor to come out to their rural home and need a referral from a friend. They are business owners, employers and employees.  They worry about getting blood stains out of their laundry. Possibly a little more often than most of us, but still.

They sleep underground in the graveyard when they can’t make it home before dawn. It’s sort of like crashing at a friend’s house. Okay, that one is pushing the boundaries of normal human culture. There is an entire vampire culture that exists outside of human sight, but we only touch the surface of it in season 1.

Sookie is drawn into this world as she seeks to solve the murder mystery and enlists Bill’s help. She visits a vampire bar run by the ancient vampire sheriff, Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgård) and his vampire progeny, Pam (Kristin Bauer van Straten). They learn of her telepathy and seek to use her talents to solve their own mysteries.

Shenanigans ensue for 7 unparalleled seasons.

ETA 4/9/20: True Blood is streaming free on Hulu for a limited time.

True Blood Season 1 vs The Southern Vampire Mysteries Book 1 (Dead Until Dark)

True Blood season 1 follows Dead Until Dark, the first book in the series, closely, using the same serial killer plot as the main mystery storyline and Sookie’s romance with Bill as the supernatural focus. The book was originally published in 2001 and my 2008 paperback copy is a quick 292 page read.

Neither the TV season nor the book are my favorite of their respective series, mainly because I am emphatically not a fan of Bill Compton and eventually I start to gag over the way Sookie continuously drools over him. But they are both entertaining and introduce the world of Sookie and Bon Temps with enough suspense, heart and humor to draw you into the next book and season.

In season 1, the TV series faithfully recreates Charlaine Harris’ version of Sookie’s world, from Gran’s old but well-loved farmhouse to Eric Northman’s vampire tourist bar, Fangtasia. The series also included mainly the same characters and subplots as the book, with a few alterations. The main difference is that the TV show expanded on plotlines that were only briefly mentioned in the book, such as recreational V(ampire blood) consumption by humans, Lafayette’s off hours activities and the vampires’ struggle for equal rights.

Many of the supporting characters and their backstories are much more developed in True Blood season 1 than they are in book 1. This is an unusual difference between a book and a movie, but it’s not as surprising when you realize that the Sookie Stackhouse novels are narrated in the first person by Sookie herself. Expanding on other characters isn’t a priority for her, even though it could be aided by her telepathy. She’s basically obsessed with Vampire Bill and the murders in this book, whereas she’s known the other characters her whole life. It’s natural for her to have little interest in providing extra details, so she tells us enough, but we don’t get a full biography.

Two characters who go on to appear in multiple books are left out of the TV series, Bubba and JB du Rone. Bubba is based on a very famous real life singer, so they probably figured he’d be distracting, as he typically is in the books. JB du Rone is a sweet man-child who shares some similarities with Lafayette and eventually becomes close to Tara. I suspect the Lafayette we see on screen is actually meant to be a composite character, with many tweaks and Lafayette’s brains.

The biggest change from Dead Until Dark is the addition of Tara Thornton to the cast. In the books she doesn’t appear until the 2nd installment, Living Dead in Dallas. Several major season 1 subplots revolve around Tara, including the set up for the main storyline for season 2, and she’s heavily involved in other characters’ plot arcs as well. Rutina Wesley is such a vibrant presence that it’s hard to imagine Bon Temps without her version of Tara, so this was certainly a welcome change. With Tara comes her alcoholic mother, Lettie Mae, played by one of my favorite actresses, Adina Porter.

Another notable change is the expansion of the storyline for book character Amy Burley, played by Lizzy Caplan. She and Jason become involved with a vampire played the Man in the High Castle himself, Stephen Root, with disastrous consequences, but it’s fun while it lasts. The Amy-Jason-V subplot is particularly effective, with its psychedelic visuals, sometimes subtle violence and obsessive relationships.

The actors and the visuals drive home the multiple abuse aspects of this plotline in a way that would be much more difficult using only words. The genius of True Blood is that the writing, acting, music and visuals come together to make an entertaining, memorable show while showing the dark side of society and how that dark underbelly can bring pain and pleasure. But True Blood wouldn’t exist if Charlaine Harris’ genius hadn’t already given us the snarky, bold, scandalous world they are elaborating on.

True Blood is streaming on HBO’s websites and Amazon Prime. Charlaine Harris has a new book in her current Gunnie Rose series, A Longer Fall, coming out in January 2020. Until then, I’m amusing myself by revisiting Sookie Stackhouse.

Images belong to those who created them.

Book vs Screen Review: True Blood Season 1 vs Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris-But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media-Bring on the dark, brooding vampires. Now on Hulu. #TrueBlood #Hulu But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers.

[metawitches]

But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media

Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers. I haven’t really been keeping the secret on purpose, but a lie of omission is still a lie, so please, try to forgive me. I don’t think this reveal will come as much of a shock to my regular readers.

The truth is, I have a deep, lifelong love of vampire romance. I’m open minded, and can consider other supernatural romances as well, but werewolves are so packminded that I question their devotion to their beloved. Ghosts seem so thin and superficial. Zombies are interested in brains, but I want more than just a relationship of the mind. Angels and demons both have to leave their beloveds in the lurch when they get called into service by the higher- and lower- powers they serve. A shapeshifter is an inconstant lover in so many ways, how could we ever develop trust?

There are exceptions: Oz from Buffy. The medieval ghosts of Lynn Kurland’s paranormal romance novels. The sentient zombies of In the Flesh. The married angel-demon couple from Midnight, Texas, another Charlaine Harris story. And no one is more trustworthy than True Blood’s own shapeshifter, Sam Merlotte.

As a general rule, witches and wizards are the only other supernatural beings I truly find exciting, with their wide range of abilities to charm or bewitch the pants off a girl, depending on the mood.

Since I’m a witch myself, and wizards are a dime a dozen, can you blame me for looking for a little more variety in my fantasy life?

Bring on the dark, brooding vampires, who are the epitome of devoted, romantic lovers, are immortal, manageably dangerous and adventurous, definitely where they’re supposed to be during the day, gorgeous and who can share their blood. Blood which, if used in small quantities, will heal without turning a human into a vampire, but which can also make the user immortal if desired, so they can share everlasting love with their vampire lover.

What could go wrong? Don’t answer that, we all need to discover some things for ourselves.

I admit, this is a hereditary issue for me. My mother and older sister sat me down in front of the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows in 1966, when I was 5 years old, to watch the trials and tribulations of vampire Barnabas Collins, of the supernatural Collins family of Collinsport, Maine. Collinsport was a mysterious town on the cold, rocky shores of northern Maine, just like the small towns in coastal northern Maine my mother’s family had lived in for 300 years, until my parents moved us to upstate NY.

With the amount of inbreeding that went on in the small early populations of northern New England, I wouldn’t be surprised if I share some relatives in common with Barnabas Collins. 😉 I certainly share the vampire’s love of night and inability to handle strong light.

(Yes, I live in New Mexico, why do you ask? This is why hats, tinted glasses and long summers with warm nights were invented. True Blood is a Southern Gothic for a reason. The Twilight vampires can keep their rain soaked, cold climates.)

I still have a copy with this original cover.

Dark Shadows ran for 6 seasons, through 1971. Then I moved on to films and book series, most notably Anne Rice. I received 2 copies of her book Interview with the Vampire for my 16th birthday, in 1977, because my friends and family knew me well, and I haven’t looked back since. Though the author clearly favors the character Lestat, tenderhearted Louis will always be my favorite of her vampires. He is, after all, the vampire who was interviewed.

There were other favorites through the years, such as the film The Lost Boys in 1987 and the Dark Shadows revival in 1991. There were viral vampires, such as The Strain and The Passage, descendants of Nosferatu rather than Dracula. Viral vampires are better not mentioned if you prefer your vampires to be romantic. There was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, film and series. Who could resist Angel? He was so irresistible that David Boreanaz has starred in one TV series or another continuously ever since. I definitely resisted Spike, though I know others didn’t.

There was The Vampire Diaries on The CW, which ran for 8 seasons (2009-17) and spawned 2 spin off series, The Originals (2013-18) and Legacies (2018- ). The first 4 seasons of The Vampire Diaries were as good as any vampire media I’ve seen anywhere. I lost interest when the storylines were watered down by splitting the cast to create spin offs and some of my favorite actors left the franchise, but those vampires are obviously still doing it for others.

Over the years, Ann Rice has written more than a dozen books on vampires, plus other series on other supernaturals, some with her son, Christopher Rice. She managed to make a mummy sexy. Her original vampire trilogy was turned into two mediocre films. I also had a fling with Katie MacAlister’s Dark Ones book series in the 00s, a fun vampire soulmate series. Now I notice she’s added a few installments since I last checked in with it about 10 years ago so, yay! Something else to read over the winter.

The big vampire story of the 00s was Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight book series, which my kids and I shared the way I’d shared Dark Shadows with my family as a child. The Twilight films were terrible, terrible things. I recommend skipping them. But as with so much that’s perceived to be originally aimed at teenage girls, the Twilight books have been unfairly maligned. They are full of universal themes and vivid characters.

Bella is a great character for anyone to follow and she has a romance to die for. She does so much more than have a boyfriend and a baby in her books, but even if that’s all she did, it would be enough. Navigating personal relationships is a huge part of life, and for someone from a background of abuse and neglect, like Bella, learning how to have healthy relationships when you are older is a long term challenge.

If it takes a vampire family to show you what real love, care, equal relationships and decent parenting look like, there’s nothing wrong with that. There are very good reasons why Bella’s romance is in love not just with Edward, but with his entire clan. Because of her childhood experiences, she’s in love with the idea of transforming from a human who has difficulty defending herself against the human monsters in her world, who include her parents, into a vampire who can protect herself and her entire devoted vampire family from even the fiercest of supernatural monsters. After a youth full of struggle, she finds her own power and uses it on her own terms to win a war, in addition to conducting an epic vampire romance.

There was a last, forgotten, one and done vampire TV series of the 00s, Moonlight, on CBS, starring Alex O’Loughlin, who quickly went on to become better known as Steve McGarrett in the Hawaii Five-0 revival, and Jason Dohring of Veronica Mars. Moonlight aired during the 2007-08 season, so it was affected by the infamous, endless writers’ strike which killed more than 1 show that year. It was just hitting its stride when the season was cut short.

As a vampire romance noir which explored multiple historical time periods plus the present day, it was sadly ahead of its time for broadcast TV. Plus, though the show had already been completely recast after early sample filming (except for Alex O’Loughlin), the writing still focused too much on the relationship between O’Loughlin’s main vampire character, Mick St John, and the lead ingenue human female, Beth (Sophia Myles), rather than the much more interesting and complex relationship between Mick and his ancient vampire, on again-off again wife and maker, Coraline (Shannyn Sossamon).

The show was course correcting in that direction when it ended after 16 episodes, an unusually short season in those days. I would be thrilled with a reboot of Moonlight that was done right. (It’s currently streaming on cwseed.com.)

Alas, the media deities rarely listen to my brilliant ideas, so we are subject to the slings and arrows and fangs of outrageous fortune. But just 4 short months after Moonlight went off the air, a new vampire romance rolled into town, and it wasn’t shy about telling us what it wanted. True Blood was the answer to all my vampire romance prayers.

Let’s Finally Review True Blood Season 1

True Blood aired on HBO for 7 seasons, for a total of 80 episodes, from the fall of 2008 to the summer of 2014. It’s based on the 13-14 book series The Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris. The TV series was created by Alan Ball, who was handpicked by Charlaine Harris because she felt he understood what she was trying to do with the books. He stayed on as showrunner for the first 5 seasons, which were all critically acclaimed.

The TV series stars Anna Paquin as Sookie Stackhouse, a telepathic waitress who lives in Bon Temps, a small town in rural Louisiana. Sookie sees her telepathy as a disability because she has a hard time turning it off, which makes it difficult to concentrate on anything else or to have normal human relationships. As a result, she’s socially isolated, other than a few close friends and her family- the warm, generous grandmother she lives with, Adele, known as Gran (Lois Smith), and her charming but selfish, promiscuous brother, Jason (Ryan Kwanten).

Sookie works at her friend Sam Merlotte’s bar and restaurant (Sam Trammell), where she’s also friends with much married fellow waitress Arlene (Carrie Preston) and fabulous short-order cook and hustler, Lafayette (Nelsan Ellis). Her best friend and Lafayette’s cousin, Tara (Rutina Wesley), begins working at Merlotte’s as a bartender at the beginning of the series. Most of the town passes through Merlotte’s at one time or another, since it’s a popular local hangout.

Sookie’s parents died in a flash flood when she was a child, but other than that and her telepathy, her life has been normal, even humdrum. Until vampires came out of the coffin a few years ago, as far as she knew there was nothing extraordinary about the world. She still has no idea why she’s psychic.

A synthetic blood which can sustain vampires, known by the brand name Tru Blood, has encouraged vampires to take the controversial step of revealing themselves as a species to humans. Amongst both vampires and humans, some have embraced this revelation and some fear what it will mean for the future. Sookie makes her very first vampire acquaintance, with the vampire Bill Compton (Stephen Moyer), when he stops by Merlotte’s to try a Tru Blood. Bill is attempting to mainstream, meaning he’s trying to blend in with humans as much as possible, rather than living the full vampire lifestyle, which naturally disregards human manners and customs. Normal vampire ways tend to alienate normal humans fairly quickly. They can even be deadly for humans.

Vampire blood can be used as a recreational drug, so there are dealers who capture vampires, drain their blood, then sell it. Sometimes they kill the vampire in the process. In the first episode, an unethical couple lure Bill into the parking lot to drain him, which Sookie overhears using her telepathic ability. Sookie is surprised to discover how easily some silver and the promise of a tasty snack can disarm a vampire. She rescues Bill and their relationship is born.

Due to the images her telepathy puts in her head, Sookie has never been able to date human men, so Bill is her first boyfriend. His main attraction is that she’s unable to read his mind. Perhaps because they are technically dead, vampire minds are a blank to her. For a telepath who’s always “on”, this is soothing.

True Blood season 1 is a Southern Gothic, paranormal, horror, mystery, romance, urban fantasy, much the same as the book it’s based on, Charlaine Harris’ Dead Until Dark. Though the subject matter is intense, the writing is relatively fast-paced and there’s a dark comedy element to it that keeps the horror aspect from becoming overwhelming. The show isn’t as light and breezy as the books; in addition to the book’s humor it uses visuals and a heightened reality to emphasize the outrageous nature of Sookie’s world. The characters frequently comment on that outrageousness and on the ironies taking place around them.

In season 1, there’s a serial killer on the loose who provides the season long mystery arc. The killer is after young women who’ve been with both vampires and human men. Since Sookie has a vampire boyfriend and is frequently around other men, she eventually becomes one of the targets.

The show’s theme song, Bad Things, by Jace Everett, perfectly encapsulates the mood of True Blood. It’s an upbeat country song that promises an out of control romance, which plays over the opening credit sequence of each episode. Humans and animals experiencing intense situations flash by, while names are superimposed over them. The activities in the visuals aren’t necessarily even immoral, they’re just filmed in a way that makes them feel creepy, until you aren’t sure anymore what’s actually bad and what’s just making you feel bad.

Like an insidious vampire who wants to have his way with us, the opening credits act to lower our boundaries and confuse us, so that we’re disoriented and easily taken out of our normal lives. Whether we’re being glamoured, romanced, drugged or conned, the first step is to convince us to leave our previous concept of normal behind.

The first year I watched True Blood, I thought the opening sequence was the grossest, most horrible opening credits sequence ever made. Now I love it and think it’s one of the best. Is that a good development or a bad one? *shrug* I still can’t watch the maggots though. The vampires haven’t completely taken me over.

True Blood continues to lower our defenses and push our boundaries once the opening credits end. Vampires and shapeshifters are welcomed into normal society. They take part in panels on CNN, discussing legal changes which have been proposed to help or hinder their assimilation. They stop at the 7-11 to pick up a 6 pack on their way home. They have difficulty getting a contractor to come out to their rural home and need a referral from a friend. They are business owners, employers and employees.  They worry about getting blood stains out of their laundry. Possibly a little more often than most of us, but still.

They sleep underground in the graveyard when they can’t make it home before dawn. It’s sort of like crashing at a friend’s house. Okay, that one is pushing the boundaries of normal human culture. There is an entire vampire culture that exists outside of human sight, but we only touch the surface of it in season 1.

Sookie is drawn into this world as she seeks to solve the murder mystery and enlists Bill’s help. She visits a vampire bar run by the ancient vampire sheriff, Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgård) and his vampire progeny, Pam (Kristin Bauer van Straten). They learn of her telepathy and seek to use her talents to solve their own mysteries.

Shenanigans ensue for 7 unparalleled seasons.

True Blood Season 1 vs The Southern Vampire Mysteries Book 1 (Dead Until Dark)

True Blood season 1 follows Dead Until Dark, the first book in the series, closely, using the same serial killer plot as the main mystery storyline and Sookie’s romance with Bill as the supernatural focus. The book was originally published in 2001 and my 2008 paperback copy is a quick 292 page read.

Neither the TV season nor the book are my favorite of their respective series, mainly because I am emphatically not a fan of Bill Compton and eventually I start to gag over the way Sookie continuously drools over him. But they are both entertaining and introduce the world of Sookie and Bon Temps with enough suspense, heart and humor to draw you into the next book and season.

In season 1, the TV series faithfully recreates Charlaine Harris’ version of Sookie’s world, from Gran’s old but well-loved farmhouse to Eric Northman’s vampire tourist bar, Fangtasia. The series also included mainly the same characters and subplots as the book, with a few alterations. The main difference is that the TV show expanded on plotlines that were only briefly mentioned in the book, such as recreational V(ampire blood) consumption by humans, Lafayette’s off hours activities and the vampires’ struggle for equal rights.

Many of the supporting characters and their backstories are much more developed in True Blood season 1 than they are in book 1. This is an unusual difference between a book and a movie, but it’s not as surprising when you realize that the Sookie Stackhouse novels are narrated in the first person by Sookie herself. Expanding on other characters isn’t a priority for her, even though it could be aided by her telepathy. She’s basically obsessed with Vampire Bill and the murders in this book, whereas she’s known the other characters her whole life. It’s natural for her to have little interest in providing extra details, so she tells us enough, but we don’t get a full biography.

Two characters who go on to appear in multiple books are left out of the TV series, Bubba and JB du Rone. Bubba is based on a very famous real life singer, so they probably figured he’d be distracting, as he typically is in the books. JB du Rone is a sweet man-child who shares some similarities with Lafayette and eventually becomes close to Tara. I suspect the Lafayette we see on screen is actually meant to be a composite character, with many tweaks and Lafayette’s brains.

The biggest change from Dead Until Dark is the addition of Tara Thornton to the cast. In the books she doesn’t appear until the 2nd installment, Living Dead in Dallas. Several major season 1 subplots revolve around Tara, including the set up for the main storyline for season 2, and she’s heavily involved in other characters’ plot arcs as well. Rutina Wesley is such a vibrant presence that it’s hard to imagine Bon Temps without her version of Tara, so this was certainly a welcome change. With Tara comes her alcoholic mother, Lettie Mae, played by one of my favorite actresses, Adina Porter.

Another notable change is the expansion of the storyline for book character Amy Burley, played by Lizzy Caplan. She and Jason become involved with a vampire played the Man in the High Castle himself, Stephen Root, with disastrous consequences, but it’s fun while it lasts. The Amy-Jason-V subplot is particularly effective, with its psychedelic visuals, sometimes subtle violence and obsessive relationships.

The actors and the visuals drive home the multiple abuse aspects of this plotline in a way that would be much more difficult using only words. The genius of True Blood is that the writing, acting, music and visuals come together to make an entertaining, memorable show while showing the dark side of society and how that dark underbelly can bring pain and pleasure. But True Blood wouldn’t exist if Charlaine Harris’ genius hadn’t already given us the snarky, bold, scandalous world they are elaborating on.

True Blood is streaming on HBO’s websites and Amazon Prime. Charlaine Harris has a new book in her current Gunnie Rose series, A Longer Fall, coming out in January 2020. Until then, I’m amusing myself by revisiting Sookie Stackhouse.

Images belong to those who created them.

Book vs Screen Review: True Blood Season 1 vs Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris-But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media-Bring on the dark, brooding vampires. #TrueBlood #CharlaineHarris But First, A Brief, Non-Exhaustive Tour Through My Favorite Romantic Vampire Media Though I have been writing reviews on this blog for more than three years, I have been keeping a dark secret from you, dear readers.