#Into Darkness vampire verse

[wrathbites]

"So tell me," Shepard says, icy eyes a barely there flicker as he tips his head back, body thrown into such a relaxed slouch Kaidan briefly wonders if someone's spiked his drink, "what brings you to my neck of the woods, Commander?"

It's - it's terrible, absolutely awful, too heavy on the emphasis to be a casual slip of the tongue, but. But Kaidan laughs, anyway, a startled fizz of it caught in his glass and rattling the ice cubes around, and he has to set it down with a solid thunk before he wears the bright yellow cocktail.

But he laughs, despite the setting and the sense he sticks out like a sore thumb in a place he doesn't belong, despite the curious stares fixed to him like a damning weight, questioning his bare neck and close proximity to a vampire with no permission to bite.

He laughs until there're tears to wipe away, and when he does he just barely catches the ghost of a smile flirting around Shepard's mouth. Oh, he's a tricky bastard, all right.

"I was... curious."

"Never been to a vampire club before?"

"No. I didn't know they were, uh. A thing. At all."

[cotrieu]

hi vamily i have vtm brain rot again sooo this is my oh see fiammetta ciriaco anastasia palaiologina my lasombra ventrue who's totally not a sabbat emissary she was originally for the vtmb storyline but i decided to make her a stand off character so :) yayyyy

[j0celynh0rr0r]

Yes 🧛🏻‍♀️🩸

[darkfoxkirin]

Dracula Miguel and villager Miles!

Miles' mother is gravely ill and the only way for Miles to get the money she needs for her medical bills is to agree to become the vampire lord's thrall and resident blood bag.

[alongtidesoflight]

hey world of darkness people, here's a survey for you to fill out to give paradox some feedback on what they're doing and what direction you wanna see wod head down in general

[dnangelic]

sometimes i think muns realize daisuke/dark is nice from an ooc standpoint or whatever despite being a thief and then don't want to do anything drastic in a thread. well, you can stab daisuke/dark a little bit. it's cool. all g.

[storybounded]

I think Scott should be in one vampire show AT LEAST. He deserves it.

[island-in-the-shadows]

...when you realise that you've chosen to dye your hair colour in a similar shade as your blorbo's hair but it was totally unintentional.

[blackwood4stucky]

oh how i adore the ways in which you bleed for me

I gotta know what this one is about.

Vampire Steve's POV of his and Bucky's third time together. Blood play, genetic body mod, ancient magic and witches galore!

related to this post

[akirakirxaa]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 15: Portentous

Rating: M

Word Count: 1493

Warnings: Descriptions of illness, major character death

Summary: Persephone meets her fate. [Vampire AU, Hythazemet, Continuation of Prompt 14.]

Master Post

Persephone cracked open eyes stuck together with sleep and a portentous stinging that she knew normally would herald the coming of a terrible fever. Throat dry, she struggled to push herself up, only to jump in surprise at movement in the dark.

“Shhh, it’s just me,” she heard Hythlodaeus’ voice, and a moment later a dim lamp on the side table clicked on to reveal him looking drowsy in the desk chair.

“Why are you just sitting in the dark?” she croaked as he poured some water into a glass and passed it to her.

“Well, you were asleep, and I was starting to doze off, so I thought-“

“No, no, I mean, why are you watching me sleep?”

“Oh,” he shifted a little. “We figured since we don’t know how long your transformation will take, that we should stay nearby in case you need something.”

“I thought the goal was for me to die,” she said, more conversationally than if she’d been fully awake.

“The process is unpleasant enough without having to suffer through it with no care at all,” he took the water cup back from her, setting it on her side table as she settled back into her blanket.

“I didn’t feel this bad before,” she mumbled, already on the edge of sleep again, but uncomfortable enough to keep her awake.

“Like I said, there are a lot of factors in how fast it goes.” Hythlodaeus pulled a few blankets out of a nearby dresser, setting them across the foot of the bed. “I hope it continues to go this quickly. It’s bad no matter how long it takes, but most tend to agree the less time it takes, the better.”

“Oh? Anything we can do to speed it up?” she asked blearily. He chuckled quietly.

“No, it will take as long as it takes,” he shrugged, touching his hand to her forehead. She leaned into it, the coolness a relief.

“Ah, that’s nice,” Persephone mumbled. “Just stay there, would you?” Another huffed sound of amusement as he reached over with his other hand to turn the lamp back off, but he didn’t move his hand. Or she didn’t think he did. It wasn’t long before she fell back into unconsciousness.

The next few days were an ocean of symptoms; each time one receded, another rose to take its place. If the fever subsided for a time, a cough would emerge, or her eyes would water and itch, or she’d struggle for breath. It was like her body knew all the attempts to rid herself of this infection were futile and desperately was trying everything it had to rid her of it.

The worst was day three, the day her body attempted to purge itself of everything she attempted to eat or drink. The two vampires fussed the worst over that, insisting she keep drinking more and more water even as it continued to come back up. Said she needed to stay hydrated. She pointed out if the point was dying, why were they trying to keep her healthy? They both tried to explain, but her head was so fuzzy she couldn’t grasp the concepts.

Hades fussed just as much as Hythlodaeus, she learned, just went about it a different way. Instead of kind smiles and friendly conversation, he was all scowls and angry admonishments of foolish behavior. The day she tried to go get her own food when her legs shook with chills, he lectured her the whole time she ate the bowl of soup he made for her. But a smile and a thank you seemed to be all it took to crack through the harsh exterior and spy something a bit more bashful just behind. But before she could prod further, he fled the room, switching out with Hythlodaeus.

During the good moments, when she could fathom doing anything but curling up in bed and waiting for it to be over, she asked for her phone. She knew she’d had it with her during the attack, and it hadn’t been on her person when she awoke in the aftermath. After a couple of days, Hythlodaeus approached with something small in his hand.

“So, good news. We finally found your phone, but um, there’s also some bad news,” he presented to her, and she grasped for it only to be filled with disappointment as she realized it was in a sad state. The front was shattered, the metal body bent almost to breaking. The port appeared as if someone had tried to jam something inside. She sighed in disappointment and set it aside.

“I guess the last thing I need right now is people blowing my phone up looking for me,” she mumbled, though it was clear she was far more let down by the news of her phone’s fate than she was letting on.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find it before it got like this.”

“Don’t worry about it. Things can be replaced,” Persephone shrank into her blankets (the chills were almost constant now, so she slept with two thick quilts that did almost nothing to relieve the cold). “You must be hot; go cool off for a while.”

“In a little while,” he always answered her concerns, which she knew to mean only when Hades appeared to swap out. Despite his prickliness, Hades had refrained from complaining about the heat in the room when she was so cold she felt she would never be warm again. She appreciated it. Persephone felt guilty enough about it already without his barbed comments being directed at it. She rested only slightly easier knowing they’d closed off the room as much as they safely could, to keep the rest of the house cool. Not just for their comfort, but her future comfort soon enough, once this heat was just as unbearable to her.

But for now, in the midst of a fever that seemed to just get higher, it was as if she couldn’t get warm enough, the warm air around her still cool on her skin.

~*~

Everyone knew something was off on day seven, when the two vampires realized mid morning that Persephone had yet to stir for water or food. Hythlodaeus woke her first, with great difficulty, food and drink at the ready. She sniffed just a little at the food, a breakfast spread with just about anything she might want, but ultimately refused to eat any of it. The water she choked down clearly only to make him happy, then dozed back off, either unwilling or unable to pull her blankets around her as she had before.

She slept most of the day, the two taking turns watching her like a hawk, abandoning the pretense of keeping busy in her vicinity. Persephone’s occasional shivers and puffs of breath stirring the hair in her face were the only signs of life for hours. Late in the evening, however, Hades looked towards her to find her fever bright brown eyes watching him.

“Would you like some water?” he asked her, clearly deciding that she was far enough gone that insisting she stay hydrated was pointless. She nodded weakly anyway, and he carefully helped her sit up before helping her drink. She took a few sips before pushing it away, and he settled her back before placing the glass back on the table.

“…I’m scared,” he heard a small voice, almost too quiet to catch, and he turned to see Persephone still watching him, tears slowly dripping down her face as she tried to keep them in.

Goddammit, he thought. This is really more Hythlodaeus’ strong suit. He took a breath and pulled the small chair he and his companion had been practically living in for a week closer to the bedside. Hades reached across the blankets to take her hand in his. She clutched it with what seemed to be as much strength as she could muster.

“What’s it like?” she asked, and he could only assume she meant the act of dying itself.

“I don’t rightly remember.” He ran his thumb over her fingers. “It was a long time ago for me. I barely remember the sickness. But I do know Hythlodaeus has assured me over and over that this part you’re going through right now was by far the worst part. So I think you could say that it’s all downhill from here.”

“You do know that has two meanings, right?” Persephone’s mouth twitched into the ghost of a smirk.

“I mean the good one.”

“You better,” the smile faded again, and she stared into nothingness for several moments before Hades tried taking back his hand. Her eyes snapped back to his, and she redoubled her grip.

“Please stay?”

“…Of course.”

And so he did. He stayed when she drifted into sleep again. When her shivering subsided and her fever spiked higher. When her grip loosened around his. When her breathing faded.

And when her heart stopped.

[wcrstarter]

dont mind me im just thinking about the diferent ways sonja would turn the corvinus castle/fortress from purely a militarized and gothic horror place of nightmares to a more liveable place. gardens filled with nightblooming flowers, climbers like moonflowers allowed to grow alone the stone walls.....importing paints and stones that can glow after being exposed to the sun all day to provide etheral looking paths for those wandering the grounds at night. skylights to let moonlight in all about that have heavy duty shutters during the day. all the night birds, prey animals, and predators happily prowling the woods......like it would seem somewhat dead during the day. little movement outside of the human population. but coming alive at night, it would seem like you'd stumbled into a fairytale.

[wrathbites]

Sunday snippet

Alenko’s a dead weight when Rhys cuts him free of the straps, hitting the roof with a clang and not moving afterward.  Alarms blare, deafening, the Hammerhead’s VI a tinny crackle in his ear warning them of imminent system failure —

No kidding, tincan piece of shit.

— but none of it’s loud enough to mask the heavy, clanking tread of the mech gearing up for another attempt at thoroughly ruining their day.

“Alenko,” Rhys barks, smacking on his breastplate, “c’mon, get up!”

A groan’s his only answer, one arm falling through the smashed window in a weak swipe of reply.  Shit.  How’s he supposed to get a good grip on him given the armour and cramped space?  And fire!  Of course there’s fucking fire.

“You owe me big time for this, Alenko.  I expect TIMmy’s head on a silver plate.  You hear me?”  Metal buckles under his third kick, collapses outward on the fourth, and he clambers out real quick, snagging the Commander’s hand and hauling him along for the bumpy ride.

“Returning from the land of nod sometime this year would be great, y’know.”

At least the mech hasn’t launched another missile yet.  Masked heat signatures, maybe?  But Alenko twitches, then flails, and smacks him square in the head with a bolt of raw biotic power and Rhys is snapped backward hard enough his spine pops, helmet screeching across rock and rubble.

For fuck’s sake.

[nomadicscratches]

"Undead Ultimatums"

.

Tonight inside

the devil's den.

I give you now

the where and when.

.

What you'll hear and

what you see

may not be

the man that's me.

.

Should you fright

amid the night,

embrace, your soul

the wicked light

.

of what you feel

and what you sense,

such magic beckons

so intense.

.

So come and go

or stay forever.

Under my wing

the end is never.

...

DLMC 10/13/2023 spooky season poetry. Inspiration for this one comes from N.I.B. by Black Sabbath.

[leagueofdccm]

// also, tmw vampire movies just make me want vampire things for all my muses. like I'm always a sucker for all that. UGH. Vampire. Demons. Hunters. All that dark themes type deals cause it's chef kiss to think of it. Cause also you can do so much when it comes to vampire ideas, and even hunters--- demons also cause they are fun and evil-- like in stories... not in real life. but don't mind me now I'm wrapped around it.

[miniscrew-anon]

Dead on Revival

I just put out 2 funny vampire ficlets so here’s an angsty one in the Count Darkula Verse to balance it all out. Takes place about a day or two after the alley incident from St0rmys last snippet

—-

At a distance, Dark can almost think he’s sleeping.

Four is dressed in his favorite oversized hoodie and tucked beneath a heavy comforter. He’s laying on his side with a pillow tucked under his arm like he always does after a feeding. His face is serene and he looks comfortable in Shadows bed.

He looks asleep. But he’s not.

He’s dead.

If Dark got close he bet he could see the pallidness of his skin. The absence of warmth. The stillness of his chest. The gaping hole in his sternum where chunks of vital organs and spine were blown out the back of his chest.

Or maybe Dark wouldn't find that. It has been over two days now. It might be closed already.

Dark isn't willing to get close enough to check. Just stepping into the room was already risky enough.

The wall behind the bed has sprung to life when Dark walked in, pulsating and writhing. A dark, shapeless mass stretches floor to ceiling. There are no visible eyes but Dark can feel it watching him, ready to wash over him in a wave of fury if he dares get any closer. The edges of it whip and lash, a clear warning.

Dark crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe casually. "Hey, Shads. How's it going?"

The mass doesn’t dissipate. But it does creep down the wall to curl around the bed instead. It wraps its tentacle-like tendrils around the bedposts and loosely curls into the blankets. Hovering over Four’s body and hiding him from view.

"Leave."

The voice is distorted, stringy and full of echoes. A deliberate choice or merely a consequence of having no vocal chords in this form, Dark doesn’t know. It has a certain intimidation factor to it that would probably scare off most mortals, so Dark figures Shadow is doing it on purpose.

"Sorry, but I can't go. I just got here." Dark keeps his tone light but his body firmly planted where he stands. "And we have to talk."

"No."

"Yes. It's important. It concerns Four."

The black mass surges at Dark. It wraps around him and consumes what little light there is, swallowing the pale yellow that comes in from the hallway. Dark is swallowed into the belly of this beast, surrounded by an abyss of pure blackness. It’s only the feeling of solid floor beneath his feet that remind him that he’s still in the physical world and not the emptiness of the void.

Shadow's voice is a mere hiss that comes from everywhere and drips venom, reverberating through Dark like the bass at a rock concert.

"What about him?"

Dark blinks calmly, deliberately not letting his hackles rise. "Man, you're tense. Relax, I come in peace. Pinky promise. I just want to know what the plan is for when he wakes up."

The darkness swirls around him, agitated.

"You know, the plan. Your plan. For his first feeding.” Dark kept himself casual, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’d like to talk about it with you but I’d also like to be able to see. Because as cool as the visuals are, they're a bit distracting. You mind backing off a bit? Like I said, I’m not here to start shit.”

There is a moment of stillness. Dark stays relaxed as he’s assessed.

Then the room begins to reform through the darkness. Like a thick fog is lifting. Floor, walls, furniture all reappear.

“Thanks.” Dark shifts back to lean against the wall and face the dark cloud that still hovered heavily over the bed. "Anyway, I wanna know what you’re going to feed him when he wakes up. Because he's going to be hungry, Shads. Newborns always are. I’m sure you remember your first time."

The shadows shift around in thought. They coagulate closer to the floor, gaining something like weight to it. It’s still inhuman, but it appears almost solid enough to touch.

"It'll be worse for him thanks to that hole in his gut." Dark continues, daring to take a step into the room. When Shadow doesn’t lash out, he takes another. "I don't know if you've ever healed from something like that. But it takes a lot of energy to mend a wound like that. Especially since he got it as a mortal."

“I can pull someone off the street,” Shadow finally speaks up. His voice sounds more normal now, just a twinge more raspy and hoarse. “Or you can. Not like it's something you’ve never done before. I don’t know why you’re even bringing this up.”

Dark stops a mere foot away, just outside Shadows form. He narrows his eyes in ire. "I bring it up because I don't know how in control he's going to be when he feeds for the first time. He might kill someone, if we're not careful."

Shadow scoffs quietly, putting on his usual snark like a mask. “So?”

Dark exhales sharply through his nose. “I’m serious, asshole. If he’s hungry enough, he’ll be like an animal. He’ll tear his meal apart.”

"So I get someone no one will miss." Shadow waves him off. “I’ll clean up the mess and dump the leftovers. I’ve done disposal before. It’s not a big deal.”

Dark almost snaps at the dismissive tone. He forces himself to breath a lungful of air he doesn’t need and unclench his fists. Relax his posture and ease his tightened jaw. Tempers the urge that’s been building since the alley to grab Shadow by the throat and beat some sense into him.

Shadow has tunnel vision right now. Dark reminds himself. He’s scared. He’s young and he’s stupid and he’s scared. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand. You know it, you saw it. In the alley. He just doesn’t understand.

Dark is going to make him understand.

So he takes another breath and keeps himself from yelling. "Clean up isn’t the issue. I’m talking about what happens after.”

Shadow stills. His form shrinks even more. Now Dark can see a shadow of his real body among the darkness, glowing eyes cast down to stare at the body buried between the sheets. One of his newly formed limbs, blurry like physical static, lightly wraps around Fours limp wrist.

“After?”

Dark nods. “Yeah, after. Because he’s going to snap back to his senses sooner or later. And once he does, he’s going to realize what he’s done. And I don’t know him as well as you do, but he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d be okay with killing an innocent bystander."

Very few people would be okay with something like that. Plenty of the undead Dark has met over the centuries regard their first kills as their first step into full blown depravity, willing or not. Freshly awakened vampires can act like animals - tearing open veins and ripping flesh from bones. The hungrier they are the more brutal the kill. It’s usually fatal and it’s always messy.

It’s a hard thing to live with, and even harder to come back from. Even experienced killers flinch away from brutal murders like that.

Dark swallows thickly, phantom copper tang in his mouth.

“You don’t want that for him, Shads. Trust me,” He murmurs. “You cursed him with immortal life. Don’t curse him with eternal regret, too.”

The darkness shutters, a barely contained gasp of pain.

It swarms and coalesces, revealing Shadow in his true form, sitting at Four’s bedside. He holds Four’s hand, brushing stray hairs behind Four’s ear with a touch so tender it makes Dark want to avert his gaze. But he doesn’t. He watches the two of them, regret aching like a physical stake in his chest.

“This is a responsibility, right?” Dark prods quietly.

Shadow quietly readjusts the blankets he moved when he sat down. He tucks Four back under the covers, covering him just like Four always liked. He swallows thickly.

“Right. Yeah.'' Shadow says. “My responsibility.”

He stands, shakily shoving his hands into the front of his blood stained hoodie. He turns his red-rimmed gaze up at Dark, eyes lost and distant.

“So,” He asks shakily, “What did you have in mind?”

——-

I took some liberty on vampire transformation. A bit of borrowed lore from Buffy on it taking a while for the change to set in. And a little from Demon Slayer about going feral for food upon awakening. Plus the whole Shadow having shadow power was too much fun to not include.

I kinda of love vampire Dark. like a whole lot. I feel like he’s a lot more mature than HSH or lmtcoy Dark because he’s so much older. He’s got more control to him. He might not really get mortals but something like this he understands completely.

And I don’t think I’ve really covered Shadow past being a snarky shit. I don’t get the chance much because there’s so few things that’ll actually break down those walls. But this specific situation is ripe for shadow actually being and feeling vulnerable for a change. For a whole variety of reasons like guilt for letting Four get killed, guilt for changing Four despite Fours initial wishes, fear at almost losing his partner, worry for what comes next, worry over how Four will take the change.

And I’m so hecking hungry for vampire angst

[tenebriism]

// Oh, I just adore him. Am so in love with him. He's so... 🥺 Just... perfect. Best idea ever to shove my favorite Zelda character, Dark Link, into FFXIV. Everyday I look at him, I melt. That's my son.