#Or the fact that it fell off during Vampire Money.

[iero]

src.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

A crazy, blood-lust driven creature

Pairing: Yeonjun x reader

Summary: Yeonjun gets a new roommate...

Warnings: dom reader, sub yeonjun, vampire reader, human yeonjun, blood play/kink, slight fear play (?), implied manhandling kink, dumification, prolly more I forgot

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: For the lovely anon here, happy late birthday and sorry this took a bit longer than anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

How does one get a crazy, blood-lust driven creature to not attack them?

Of course there’s many ways discovered by humans throughout the years, such as dousing them in holy water. Sending a stake through their heart, repulsing them with garlic but really, that one’s a bit more of a myth.

That was the question that Yeonjun was focused on before. How to not get hurt, how to not get killed. In fact, that was what he’d been preparing for, for most of his life.

How to keep the vampires away. How to stay safe from them. Because they were mindless, scary, blood-sucking creatures. 

But that was before.

Before his landlord increased the price on his place and Yeonjun needed something to help with the pay he knew he couldn’t cover alone. Before he decided he needed a roommate to cover those extra expenses. Before he posted something online, asking if anyone wanted to move in with him; to help pay with the rent.

He got a total of one offer.

You.

A vampire.

A crazy, blood-lust driven creature that he’d been preparing to fight off for most of his life.

But he needed money. Needed to keep a roof over his head. Needed to still be able to pay for food.

So he agreed and a few short days later, after settling agreements and setting ‘ground rules’ as he called them, you moved in.

You weren’t allowed to feed in or anywhere near the house. You weren’t allowed to bring home any other of your ‘blood-sucking friends’ as he called it. And obviously, ever feeding off of him was off limits entirely. 

Overall though, you were a great roommate. 

You paid your portion of the rent on time, you weren’t loud or messy, you didn’t bother him-in fact-he didn’t see very much of you at all because of the time differences and such, with you sleeping or maybe out during the day, he didn’t know for sure and him asleep at night when he assumed you were awake.

And when you did see each other, you mostly kept to yourself and he was okay with that-happy-with it even. You kept your space and he kept his. He had no interest and you had no interest in him.

At least, that’s how he thought it would be.

Until one morning he’d gotten up extra early for work-having woken up and not able to fall asleep-but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that after awhile of laying in bed, tossing and turning and finally deciding he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep and so there was really no point in trying, he got up to make some coffee.

Yawned as he began to prepare for a normally extra long and extra tiring day. But now an extra, extra long and extra, extra tiring day considering he didn’t get the usual amount of sleep he normally did.

Yeonjun was so deprived of his sleep that he didn’t realize that you were sitting at the bar, scrolling mindlessly on your phone-right across from him-until you were saying good morning and wondering why he was up so early, pointing at the clock and reminding him of the time it was.

He had frozen in shock, body clenching in fear as your easygoing laugh filled the room, asking him if he was okay.

That was the first time he had an actual conversation with you, other than setting rules and showing you around the place.

And he’d be surprised to say it was...nice. You-you were nice, friendly even, like a normal person. Definitely not creepy or scary like he imagined you to be.

So he talked to you for a bit, ended up losing track of time and being a little bit late to work but he was surprised to find that he wasn’t as angry as he though he’d be.

After that the two of you fell sort of into a schedule. 

You, being up early in the morning all the time, prepared his coffee for him and when he heard the little beeping of it being finished, he’d wake up and get out of bed to get ready.

That would leave a bit more time in his morning between finishing getting ready and leaving, so he’d talk to you.

In the beginning of course it was kind of tense. Yeonjun didn’t really know what to talk to vampires about but you quickly filled in the gaps, telling him about your other vampire friends and weirdly enough, he found that you had some human friends as well. 

You told him all about the people who were in your life and about your life in general, the one you lived around the time where he was asleep. 

Apparently you worked as a bartender at a night club, a very interesting night club at that. One where both humans and vampires would visit. Vampires for blood and humans that were willing to be drunk from. 

You assured him it was nothing harmful to either of the parties and 100% consensual. In fact, you explained, humans apparently got an almost high-inducing overwhelming feeling from being fed from. Of course, you’d never felt it but you said the people that you’d fed from had explained it as almost pleasurable in a way.

And Yeonjun guessed it made sense if he was thinking about the tactical way of the vampire as a predatory species. Being able to induce this feeling over prey would ensure that they wouldn’t get away-that they wouldn’t want to get away.

Eventually he came to tell you about himself as well. His friends and job-his hobbies-and his nearly obsessive fear of your kind and how it came to be.

He wasn’t sure you’d understand at first. He’d thought you’d be defensive over your kind and yourself. That you would argue with him and get upset.

But you didn’t.

You heard him out and listened. You empathized to his feelings and made him feel...sane for once.

He enjoyed speaking to you and soon Yeonjun realized that you knew more about him than his friends and family-even. Eventually you knew so much about him and he knew so much about you that it could only be described as a friendship.

And so your relationship continued like that. Brief but deep. Willing to open up but not willing to discuss the prospect of it being anything more.

Yeonjun liked it. Liked the way he could tell you so many things without having to worry about it being anything more. He loved the way that you were openminded, aware of yourself and of him, and willing to listen.

Openminded until one night.

Late at night or really early in the morning-it could be described as either, when he had gone to the bathroom or maybe get a drink of water, he couldn’t quite remember but that wasn’t really the point.

The point was that he’d gotten up late at night and you were there.

Dark and quiet, he tried to keep it that way. Tried to not make a noise and not turn on the lights, he knew you’d be awake but he didn’t want to disturb you more than that.

Obviously, he knew he could talk to you outside your morning conversations but that had never happened before.

He’d been attempting to stay silent, creeping through his own apartment like some kind of stranger.

“Hello Yeonjun, what are you doing up this late? You have work in the morning, do you not?”

He had jumped at the sound of your voice, frantically searching for the source of it until a lamp turned on and the room swelled with light. Your eyes stared him down, a bloody red to match your diet, staring him down with a deranged yet somewhat inviting smile on your face.

He knew what this was, experienced it many times but it didn’t make him any more used to it. The natural beauty all vampires had, like a siren to lure in their prey. He knew, yet it didn’t make it any less effective, the aura that you gave off, calling him in like a ship to a lighthouse.

“U-um, I...”

Scarlet eyes traced his face in search of an answer, nodding along in perhaps a prompt for him to continue.

“W-water?”

He cursed himself internally as your lips twitched in a restrained smile, amusement filling your unnatural eyes. “What about water?” He had talked to you a handful of times already and he’d never acted like this before.

Call him sleep deprived, or maybe even nervous about talking to you but he’d never admit the real reason he was stuttering over his words like a schoolboy with a crush was because this was the beginning of exactly that.

“I...”

Finally a wide toothy grin broke across your face, and even though he hadn’t meant to, Yeonjun gasped-loudly.

Your fangs. 

Perfectly white and sharp, almost glistening in the light.

Horror and fear and something that pulsed deep inside him that wasn’t quite decipherable shocked him in place. Heat filled his body and an uncontrollable shiver tore through his body as his eyes went wide, tensed in wait.

He knew you had fangs. He knew, all vampires did so why shouldn’t you? But he’d never seen your’s before. Maybe the opportunity hadn’t arisen or maybe...whatever. His mind was a jumbled mess, a whirlpool of scattered thoughts as he fought to keep the urge to bite his lip at bay.

“I-i need water!” He cringed at the crack in his voice, wincing at the silence that followed. “...I-I’m thirsty...?”

You clearly noticed the shift and your smile fell, replaced with a neutral expression. For some reason it made something in Yeonjun’s chest fall. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird or anything...I’m just not used to...your fangs y’know? Kind of freaked me out-considering your k-kind.”

Fuck, was he dumb or something? Had his lack of sleep finally caught up to him? Why was he spewing out bullshit like some kind of moron.

And then your expression dropped to a frown, eyebrows furrowing. “My kind? What do you mean by that?”

He scratched the back of his neck, “Like vampires...y’know? Y-your fangs just kinda freaked me out, b-because you drink blood and all?”

Your mouth clamped shut and those unnatural eyes shifted, looking opposite to him. “Well I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You took a deep breath. “I’d never drink from you, you know that right? I thought you knew that.” 

He opened his mouth to reply but you continued, hands gesturing wildly, looking back and pinning him with your gaze. “And you know that when I do drink I rarely ever actually...permanently harm them.”

He knew the way you substituted ‘permanently harm’ for kill was for his benefit as he replied. “I know, I know but you can never be too careful...Your kind have never been particularly trustworthy.”

He knew the mistake as soon as the word left his lips and clearly so did you, nostrils flaring, lip curled up, holding back a hiss but leaving your fangs on display.

“You go get your water. I’m gonna go out for a bit. Meet up with some friends, maybe get something to eat.” You replied, standing up with an attempted smile, an angry edge set cold in your tone. “Have a good night.”

You were out of the room before his brain finally started to work again and a very delayed, “Good night.” Echoed softly from his lips.

--

After that he barely saw you. Sometimes in the early morning when he got up for breakfast but most of the time you were out of the house doing who knows what by then.

And he was very reluctant to say that he maybe wanted to see you again? 

It was almost three weeks after your little ‘fight’, if you could even call it that?

Almost three weeks of him barely seeing you.

Almost three weeks of you...avoiding him?

Well, Yeonjun didn’t know if you were avoiding him per se. He hoped you weren’t. But whereas before when you’d say hi every now and then, ask him how his day was or whatnot, now he barely even saw you much less hear your voice.

Whenever he tried to approach you if he did see you, you would quickly blurt out that you needed to eat and quickly leave the room.

Yeah, on second thought, you were probably avoiding him. And he probably deserved it.

God! He wanted to bang his head against the wall, how could he be so stupid? ‘Your kind have never been particularly trustworthy’? What was wrong with him?

And now you were angry.

And now he was missing you.

Your weird red eyes. Your disturbing, oddly alluring smile. Your small questions and easygoing conversations. 

But how could he even be missing you? He certainly didn’t like you. You were a vampire. A crazy, blood-lust driven creature. 

He hated you.

At least he was supposed to hate you...

But now it was three weeks later and he hated to say it but he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Fuck, was he going to have to apologize?

--

Yeonjun felt warm. 

Hot. 

W-why was it so hot?

Blinking slowly, his eyes opened and red one’s greeted him, nearly glowing in the dark. 

“Yeonjun.” He could nearly shiver at the minty breath fanning across his face, your voice a purr.

“W-what’re you doing?”

He felt the grip you had on his waist, pulling him closer to you. So close he could no longer tell what was you and what was him anymore. 

“Shh, pet, be quiet and just lay back for me.”

He found himself listening without thinking. “W-what’re you d-” The words cut off into a gasp, slowly shifting into a broken moan as your teeth sunk into his neck.

Something coursed through his veins. Hungry and hot. Fear? Confusion? Anger? Lust? All of them?

But clearly his reaction wasn’t important to you, taking his hair and knotting your hand roughly into the roots, pulling his head back for more access.

Your teeth sunk into his skin, like the prick of a needle, slow and excruciating for only a moment before...it turned into something else.

You paid him no mind nonetheless, drinking like you had been starved for weeks and for some reason-for some reason he could only keen. 

And finally-finally he could understand what you meant before when you’d said that humans would willingly choose to be drunk from.

‘Pleasurable in a way’, you’d described it. There was nothing ‘in a way’ about this. This was a pure aphrodisiac that you’d let loose into his bloodstream. 

Euphoria and bliss scalding hot, burning a trail of ecstasy through his body. 

You stopped for a bit to let him rest, kissing the are you had just bit and licking away any of the excess blood that was dripping from the bite marks. Smirking but mostly ignoring the way his arms uselessly tried to cling to your shoulders, pawing and begging for you to do it again.

Quietly, you leaned down to his ear, whispering as you asked if he was okay, tracing your fingers over the wound gently while focusing your eyes on him.

Was he okay?

Was he okay?

He was drunk-practically high off a single bite, begging for more, clawing at your skin and wrapping his legs around your hips.

Was he fucking okay?

He whined and scratched and finally found leverage behind your head and before you could even breath he was pushing you back towards his neck. 

Instead of getting what he so desperately needed, you pulled away entirely.

“Shh, calm down pet. You need to just wake up!”

What?

“-Yeonjun wake the fuck up you’re scaring me!”

His heart almost blew out of his chest as he tried to regain his senses, eyes opening up to see the world in white. “Fucking hell! Are you okay?”

Yeonjun blinked, trying to bring the world into focus and once he finally caught on to his surroundings, he wished he could find a rock to hide under for the rest of his very short-compared to your’s-life. 

Because there you were.

Sitting over him, face full of concern and worry. Shaking his shoulders and brushing your hand over his forehead as if checking for a fever.

“Are you okay? You were making weird noises! A-and thrashing around-were you having a nightmare-you’re really warm, your cheeks are really red too-are you sick-what can I do?”

His mouth opened but no words could possibly come out. Horror crossed his face but for none of the reasons you expected as you gasped and flitted out of the room. “You know what? I’m gonna go get you some advil. Some soup maybe! I don’t know, I’ll google what to get on the way there!”

And before he could even yell back and stop you from leaving, the door was slamming shut and you were gone and he was still sitting there as red as a fire hydrant.

...He just had a wet dream about you drinking his blood.

...and you thought that it was a nightmare because he was sick.

...and now you were gone to the store to get him things to make him feel better...

He groaned, face falling into his hands as the full weight of the mortification hit. He just had a wet dream about you drinking his blood.

What was wrong with him? Why would he ever dream about something like that? Why did he like it?

Yeonjun smothered a pillow over his head with a groan, god he should just put himself out of his misery. 

How could he ever face you again? How was he gonna act normal around you again?

He didn’t know, all he knew was something deep inside him. Somewhere shameful and embarrassing, all he could think about was-all he could wonder was How do you get a crazy, blood-lust driven creature to attack you?

--

Ever since you’d gotten back the human had been acting shifty.

It was weird.

You’d come back from the store, medicine and soup and whatever else the first website that popped up when you searched ‘home remedies for a cold’ listed on it.

But it was odd. When you got to his room he wasn’t there. And when you found him he was in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables a bit too carelessly for your opinion.

“Yeonjun, are you okay? I thought you were sick.”

He waved it off, muttering something or another about how he was fine and you were just overreacting. You weren’t too sure you believed him but didn’t argue with it.

You placed the things down on the counter, sitting on the barstool and watching him cut up some carrots roughly, somewhat distractedly as he glanced up at you every few seconds.

He liked that you cared. Liked that you were worrying over him and as much as it was tiring it filled his chest with a sort of warmth.

“Careful!” The silence was broken by your voice, his wrist gripped by yours only inches above his fingers. 

He blinked once. Twice. Avoiding your gaze as he set the knife on the cutting board and sighed.

Your gaze was heavy on him, confused and worried burning a hole into the side of his face but he tried his very best to ignore it. “Are you sure you’re not sick, Yeonjun?”

Exasperated, he finally turned to you, meeting your stare head on. “I’m fucking fine! If I say I’m fine-I’m fine! I-i just-”

Each of your hands wrapped around his wrists and suddenly he was shoved up against the counter, trapped between your body and the cool marble of it. “Just what?” You hissed darkly, digging your nails into his skin, gripping him so hard he was almost positive it would leave marks. 

Yeonjun tried to look away, tried to tear his gaze from your’s and break whatever weird trance you had over him but he couldn’t. Couldn’t pull away from the depths of your eyes, sharp and demanding.

“I-i just,” He took a deep breath in, and blurted it out. “I can’t stop thinking about you! I miss you and it’s fucking weird!” 

He ripped his body away from yours, shoving you away as he ran a hand through his hair. “And I want to apologize for calling you untrustworthy but I don’t know if I can yet but I can’t stop thinking about you and our stupid conversations and your scary as fuck eyes and your fucking fangs that I quite literally had a wet dream about!” As the words flowed out, the more and more agitated he became. Voice growing frantic and fast. 

“Because god, even though I’m completely fucking terrified of you I can’t stop thinking about them sinking into my fucking skin-”

Before he could even blink, before a single thought came to mind, he was backed against the wall. Your body like steel pushing him and your teeth were sinking into his neck and he body was set ablaze.

He could feel it. Feel the suction of the long gulps you took, the pinprick of pain just below his ear that was maddening and horrible and wonderful.

Yeonjun couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way his hips began to grind down against your thigh as you brought it up between his legs.

“Sh-shit!” He gasped, and that seemed to break you out of your trance, pulling away from his neck, scanning over his fucked-out face with a concerned yet definitely aroused expression, satisfied at just how much of a mess you could make him with a single bite.

So instead you claimed his lips. He could taste his own blood on your tongue, metallic and sharp but he moaned at it nonetheless, crying out when you pulled away, watching as he stuck out his tongue to try and chase you back into the kiss. 

His eyes were glazed over-half lidded, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted. He pleaded for you to kiss him again. For you to touch him. For you to bite him and ruin him and mark him as yours.

How could anyone turn down such a sinful plea?

You kissed him again, hungrier, rougher this time. With such force that your teeth clicked together. You winced but he didn’t seem to notice, intertwining your tongues together. Kissing you desperately and needily.

That kiss was followed by another kiss and then another. 

You laughed lightly as your teeth grazed over his tongue, cutting it slightly. You could taste the blood and he could as well. Feel it fresh as it ran freely straight into your mouth. 

Yeonjun whimpered at the slight pain. Shut up into a high-pitched mewl as you dragged your own tongue over the wound, savouring the taste of his blood and saliva intertwining into one.

He gasped as his legs were thrown around yours, carried across the room and dropped onto the couch, easily as if he weighed nothing. As if he were a feather in your arms. 

“Yeonjun~”

Thrown onto the couch with a low ‘umph’ you gazed upon him.

A mess. A gorgeous, beautiful mess. 

Bloody marks decorating the soft skin of his neck, hair disheveled, drool cascaded down his lips. Pretty, pretty eyes unfocused and wide, looking up glazed over with what you assumed to be lust. 

His arms reached out, hands grasping lightly for your shirt, for your hands, for anything that could bring him closer to you. 

You’d probably drunk too much. If his current state; the swaying of his body and the shiver of his limbs were any indication. He was high off of the sensations and clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

He kept blubbering nonsense. How he was sorry, how he wanted you-needed you, how he finally got you to drink his blood, moaned pleads and promises in a jumbled incoherent mess.

You pet back his sweaty hair, trying to ignore the way his hips bucked up into the air, whimpering in frustration at the inevitable dissatisfaction of the motion. 

“Calm down. Shh, you need to calm down.”

But he didn’t, if anything the hand resting on his forehead only made him want you more, body weak yet still writhing in place, trying to reach you. 

“Bite me, bite me again. Bite my thighs! Please, bite my thighs!”

“Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me to bite you baby?”

His face flushed and a wanton cry fell from his lips as he squirmed beneath you, nodding and letting his head fall back. 

“Words.” You travelled slowly down the expanse of his body, mouth nearly watering in anticipation.

His desperate nods as much as they were so adorable, so enticing, weren’t enough for you. But he needed to be quick with his answer; you were getting hungry and his blatant signs of submission weren’t making holding back any easier. 

The look in your eyes was more predatory than ever, and it made his blood boil inside him. “D-do it, do it please do it!”

And you could lie and say it was for his sake the speed of which you moved in as soon as the very first syllable broke from his mouth but, that was a lie. And you weren’t very keen on lying. Your desperation in which clearly betraying those thoughts as your nails dug into his thighs, grip hard enough to leave marks as you spread them apart. 

Yeonjun was so incredibly embarrassed; so incredibly flustered, hiding his face in his hands as he processed the situation. As he could barely process the feeling of you sliding his shorts down his legs, of his body unconsciously shimmying to make the job easier. 

Your fangs grazed his inner thigh as you began kissing around the area, dangerously close to his crotch, moaning as the intoxicating smell of Yeonjun’s blood hit your senses. 

“So good for me pet, so good~”

Your fingers blushed along his navel, distracting and overwhelming, making him shiver violently in place. And finally-finally you had found the right spot. He moaned delectably as you began mouthing at it and leaving open mouth kisses over the spot, your mouth warm and wet. 

His thighs trembled on either side of your head as you licked a long stripe over the place and kissed it-almost tenderly one more time. 

“Just stay still for me, okay baby?”

He nodded frantically, hands flying to your hair, head up and eyes watching in lustful anticipation as you opened your mouth, fangs-that he’d gotten in fucking fight with you about earlier-shimmering in the low light, decorated prettily by your saliva. 

And slowly, ever so slowly, you began to lower them into Yeonjun’s thigh, fangs easily sliding in through his skin.

And this-this was a million times better than his dream-a billion. This was scalding and dizzying, his mind melting into a jumbled mess, not a single thought able to form. Not a single word than pleas and begs for more and more and more.

It was too much, barely enough, just right. Just enough to push him right to the edge as he squirmed and moaned under your mouth.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna...” 

He gasped out and god was it embarrassing as he came. You hadn’t even touched him. You hadn’t done anything except for bite him!

He could barely even focus on those thoughts as his body tensed and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, stars swimming in his vision.

So overwhelmed and so far gone that he didn’t realize you’d eased out of him until you were cradling his head in your arms and softly whispering words he couldn’t quite make out into his ear.

Soft words and sweet nothings, covered in bites and bruises, your body solidly wrapped around his, he fell asleep.

The last thing before the darkness overtook him was looking up to see a tender smile, a gentle forehead kiss and a brush of a hand down his thighs.

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (3)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,631

Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2

on Ao3

Can't you feel Electricity It's dripping through my veins The syzygy It's twisting me endlessly, endlessly

Like you don't know what they said a couple of nights ago But you didn't hear that one

Galeb was ravenous. Although his skin colour had faded to grey the moment he had walked the secretary back inside the club, the whole act had pushed him to his limits.

As he looked at the woman seated next to him, it hit him suddenly. He felt it in his whole being. It was his Ventrue nature that was making him so tense around her, giving him these visceral reactions. He craved her blood; the purity, the class. And the fact that he could not have it only intensified his desire.

“The usual?” Emem asked with a cocky grin as she stepped closer to them.

“Yes. And a gin and tonic for her.” he answered.

As Emem was about to turn around, Galeb rose from his seat.

“I must excuse myself, Cyrene.” he said, “I will be back momentarily.”

Emem turned back towards Galeb, he overcame the distance between them.

“I need a real drink” he spoke through clenched teeth. Drained of vitae, the beast in him had become far too impatient.

“Did you not eat before coming here?”

“I did” he hissed, “I didn’t think it would take that much convincing.”

“Well I don’t have anything for you. Go and serve yourself.” Emem hissed back. “Be careful with what you pick though.”

Without another word he disappeared into the darker corners of the club. His mind was racing, consumed by the desire for only one thing. But it could not just be anyone and he had to be careful it was not a ghoul. So he lurked in the dark, watched the prey and fellow predators. His gaze wandered back and forth between people, then fell back onto Cyrene. Her blood was perfect, truly, but he could not risk it. A soft growl escaped him. His trained senses made him aware of a human not bound to anyone. A man in a business suit -- dark brown hair, swept back, an expensive silver brand watch around his wrist, the old money kind not the electronic touchscreen trash -- walked towards the restrooms. Galeb followed him at once.

A deep sigh of relief escaped him as he regained his composure and left the stall with the man behind. He centered himself as he adjusted the collar of his shirt in the washroom, making sure his clothes had not been soiled during this moment of weakness. A quick glance reassured him of the fact that the bathroom stall doors were closed and the Kindred walked off.

“I made a bit of a mess in the men’s washroom” he confessed discreetly once he had arrived back at the bar.

“Ugh” Emem rolled her eyes, “Seriously?”

“He’s alive.” he reassured her firmly, “Just some stains on the floor.”

“I’ll have someone get it.” she sighed and shook her head in disapproval.

Galeb noticed their drinks that had been served as he lowered himself onto the bar seat next to his new acquaintance.

“I’m so sorry I made you wait.” he spoke softly.

“Oh don’t worry about that at all.” Cyrene replied with a smile towards him, her demeanour friendly, less suspicious. Now it seemed like a perfectly normal thing that this man wanted to get to know her.

“I’ve been thinking” Galeb spoke, “We should spend more time with each other until you feel comfortable with me. And then you could introduce me to Mr. Hartwell.”

Cyrene set down her glass that she drank from.

“I would like that. I think that might work.” she answered. Galeb could feel that she was honest, even less careful than before. His dominance over her mind was still apparent.

“You think?” Galeb checked. “You’re not sure?”

“I don’t know. I will have to make sure he doesn’t feel suspicious about anything that you do.” she answered.

“Maybe it’s better you manage our assets. Inofficially at least.” the Kindred suggested.

“Oh I can’t do that” she laughed casually, “I’m not in that position.”

“You give yourself far too little credit, Cyrene.” Galeb spoke, his influence over her strong.

“Maybe.” she chuckled, “But I can’t be doing anything like that behind his back.”

“Do you have access to his clients’ files?”

“I do.” she responded, “In case of emergencies. Or an urgent meeting that he doesn’t agree to.”

“What about confidentiality? How much trust does he have in you?"

"A lot. I don’t want to betray him. I wouldn’t-- I can’t--” There was a certain agitation in her voice, like her own will that struggled against Galeb’s influence.

“It’s okay” he calmed her with a soft voice, his eyes flashing just for a second. “You’re safe. You are not betraying Hartwell. Everything is alright.”

She visibly calmed again, her breathing and heartbeat normalizing. The Kindred watched her fingers wrap around the glass and drink from it again. He leaned over, his body turned towards her.

“Where does he live?”

Slowly her gaze was drawn from her glass towards Galeb. A smile formed on his lips before she could even answer.

“Where do you live?”

With his head lowered Galeb returned to Hazel’s quarters.

“What is it? You don’t look like you have good news for me.” Hazel spoke, behind her was the moon shining in through the tall windows, the light being reflected on the sleek surface of her desk.

Galeb sighed, shaking his head before speaking.

“It’s not the best news. Hartwell has turned into a recluse. He doesn’t take any new clients it seems. And the secretary,  Roberts, she is very careful. I think I can gain her trust but it will take some time.”

“Unfortunate news” Hazel spoke and turned around towards the windows, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her gaze lowered. “Is that all?”

“My Prince, forgive me the suggestion, but would it not be easier to find someone else?”

“No. I want Hartwell” she insisted, “All others out there are not malleable enough. I’ve seen the prospects.”

“This will not be easy.” Galeb suggested.

“But once we have him, he is ours. We can use his paranoia against him.” Hazel explained, turning around again.

“What if we use just the secretary? She does most of his business for him these days anyway.”

“But in his name, right?”

Galeb tilted his head, watching her as she paused.

“So it will be him either way. If she has access to everything, I’m not against it.” Hazel explained, her hand outstretched in a presenting fashion, “But remember, she can’t be influenced if she is the one working with us. And Emem told me you already forced your will onto her.”

“Of course she did.” Galeb sighed and looked down for a moment.

“Her bodyguard was at her heels and she was extremely cautious. I could not let her go just like that.”

“Galeb, I’m not mad at you.” Hazel reassured gently, shaking her head. “I just want to make sure you know that going any further than that will be out of the question. Especially if you choose her as the one to work with us.”

“We will never get our hands on Hartwell.”

“You don’t know that” Hazel disagreed with her voice a tone higher, trying to persuade him. “Maybe we just have to be careful and watch Roberts and Walker for a while. Why don’t you become friends with them?”

Galeb coughed up a laugh.

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

“You’ve done it before.” Hazel reminded him. “Just go slow.”

The pressure of her gaze made the man look away.

“Have you set up another appointment with her?”

“I have. I was worried she would not let me meet her again if she wasn’t under the influence of my power.” Galeb confessed.

“Smart move. I am sure you will be able to make her trust you and then in no time, she will be introducing you to Hartwell, you will see. Or, she will the one handling our finances. Your choice.”

“Would you at least consider giving this task to somebody else? Anyone else, in fact. Emem Louis could do this easily with her connections to the--”

“No” Hazel responded firmly. “It has to be you. Emem doesn’t even come close to you in strength. You can protect these people if anything happens. Don’t you think they will be swarmed with ghouls and other agents soon enough? You can sense them. You’re the only one I can rely on for this task.”

Galeb sighed in defeat.

“I hadn’t considered that.”

“I know it’s hard for you. She’s probably all a Ventrue like you could want in a vessel.” Hazel chuckled. Galeb’s eyes widened.

“It’s not-- it’s not that. That’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh come on now. Don’t be shy about this. We’re birds of a feather, you and me.” she reaffirmed with a smile. “Go downstairs to the lounge and have a drink. Ask Sylvia for what I had them prepare for you. It will relax you. I know your type.”

Galeb stood in shock, at a loss for words but finally spoke, unable to decline.

“Thank you, my Prince.”

“And then focus. We need these people.”

“Of course, my Prince.”

The following night a black car with tinted windows was parked in front a high-rise apartment complex at 10:30 pm. The front doors of the building opened and Cyrene walked out into the night. Her steps brought her to the car, she overlooked the license plate quickly before she opened the back door from the side of the pedestrian walkway. She climbed in, greeting the man that was sitting inside with a smile.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 18 Broken Glass

For day 18 of whumpril

Familiar faces, Set episode 10 of season 3 Originals, follows after this days 16, 18 and 27 of febuwhump.

Elijah deals with the consequences of his own overconfident and underestimation of Tristan.

Hayley and Jackson happen to time their talk at a bad time but manage catch Elijah before he does something drastic

Warnings for self harm and discussion of drug use, withdrawal and self harm.

----

It was a good thing Elijah was familiar to muscle aches, from his episodes and gymnastics or his problem would have been noticeable during their confirmation to deal with Tristan. He wouldn’t want Tristan going into the dark with the belief he won anymore than Elijah wanted him to.

Yes Elias had loved him, but to Elijah he was nothing and would be forgotten.

He just needed to get through this, the after effects that Tristan likely hadn’t even thought for or planned.

Elijah didn’t like his reflection, he had gotten used to the fact it was never the right face looking back at him, too old, too young, black eyes and a wide smile or blood covered, this time it looked like he felt tired and fragile.

With his hair a mess from the way he had been pulling at it, he looked like an addict jonesing for a fix.

It wasn’t completely wrong.

Klaus was away helping Cami, Freya had human hearing and should hear it and Sage had gone out for the night after making him promise to stay inside. He’d complain about her protectiveness but he brought her back for this reason and then foolishly went off alone, placed himself back into Tristan's hands and ended up reliving his last two lives at the same time.

Dealing with the itch under his skin he hadn’t had to deal with for decades and hoped he never would again.

So he shattered the mirror, uncaring of the sound it would make or the broken glass that was going to cut him.

If he fell back into old habits he'd be dead within weeks OD-ing the moment he got high enough to forget his current body didn’t have years of build up endurance.

It made it better, easier to ignore the burning itching under his skin when he could focus on the burning stinging cuts now decorating his hand. The ache from his chest and the ghost of a feeling of Tristan’s hand in his chest had long faded.

He had hoped dealing with Tristan would chase away the lingering consequences of his brief return to Elias, knowing Tristan was trapped.

It hadn’t.

He had barely had a taste of his once addiction, Tristan wanting to use his time with his pet in other ways, and yet the hunger for it was back.

He had already healed those bitemarks and bruises but removing them had just left him with the withdrawal.

The burning itch, the need, the skin crawling. 

He wasn’t a desperate run away on the street anymore, looking for a way to first escape his nightmares and the black eyed monster in his reflection and then the memories of what he did to earn the money for his habit.

He was Elijah Mikaelson, one of the original vampires, currently a witch that had power others would flinch from.

Reminding himself of that didn’t get rid of the crawling under his skin, the trembling that was trying to take over his limbs..

He swallowed as he eyed the broken glass in the sink, red staining white.

Before he could reach it the door slammed against the wall and two hands settled on his arm.

He pulled his eyes away from the remains of the broken mirror and his blood staining them and the sink to look at intruders.

Hayley and Jackson stared at him in horror, anger and concern.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, smiling at them as if nothing was wrong as the words came out calm and controlled. 

Surely the married couple should be at home comforting each other at the pain and near loss they had suffered today, because of Elijah’s first sired, the grudge he had created and the personal army he had also made for Tristan to use.

“We came here to talk to you.” Jackson explained as Hayley seemed speechless as she took him in, Elijah shifted his shoulders slightly, as he realised what a mess he likely looked like, the movement caused Jackson to release his arm but Hayley just pulled it closer to her examining his glass littered skin..

“What do you think you were doing?” Hayley snapped pulling him from the sink, Jackson followed as she pulled him from the bathroom..

Elijah was at a loss, first in how to explain his actions that wouldn’t worry her more or sound so obviously a lie and second why she was here, so instead of speaking he stayed quiet.

She pushed him to sit on the bed, sending Jackson a look over Elijah’s head that he couldn’t muster the strength to try to read before she vanished back into the bathroom, returning with his first aid kit.

“I’m not going to ask you to heal that.” she told him as she ignored the collection of healing plants and pulled out the rest of the tools. “You don’t really look in the head space.”

“I’ve already healed the rest of the damage” he told her realising as he struggled to focus on either of them she was right about his head space, his skin was crawling and his attempt to control his jitteriness had failed as he noticed he couldn’t stop the way his legs were bouncing. 

“Tristan got into your head.” Hayley said more likely to herself as she treated his hand, plucking out shards of broken glass.

“He trapped me in my own head.” he replied, as he switched his glaze between Hayley and Jackson, he wasn’t sure what to say, why they were here or how to convince them he was fine and that they didn’t need to bother themselves, he rarely struggled with knowing the right words to get what he wanted but now he was useless.

Neither of them should be stuck dealing with Elijah as he failed to keep control of himself, he was a thousand years old he could deal with memories of a damaged teenager.

Apparently not.

“You want to tell us what happened between the pair of you?” Jackson’s voice broke the silence that had grown and Elijah looked up from where he had lost himself watching Hayley work on her hand to be surprised that Jackson was sitting on the bed beside him instead of standing.

Was he really that unaware? He had never been so careless around Mr M- Tristan.

“He was my first s-” he winced as Hayley pulled a partially deeply embedded piece of glass free.

“We got that,” Hayley interrupted him, bringing his attention back to her “that doesn’t explain why you followed him into the warehouse.” ‘or why he kissed you’ Elijah thinks she also wants to ask. 

“I’m guessing it happened sometime since you lost your original body.” Jackson added as Elijah stared at Hayley.

Elijah thought about correcting him that he hasn’t lost his original body, it was downstairs besides his sibling’s coffins but instead gave them the answer they were after, the sooner he said it the sooner they could move on and never think of that life.

“Tristan found a messed up teenager on the streets and had him for about a year. He wanted his pet to love him and he got what he wanted.” it was easier to explain as if Elias was another person, to put some distance between them, like Elijah didn’t remember desperate for his praise, as if he couldn’t feel his own happiness at Tristan’s gentle touch.

“You loved him.” she almost choked of those words, stopping her work to stare at him,in horror-pity-disgust, Elijah couldn’t tell.

“Elias did.” He tried to correct them but even his own voice was shaky and unsure.

“Stockholm syndrome.” Jackson mused leaning closer to Elijah to see Hayley better perhaps, Elijah couldn’t help but melt into him, warm-solid-real, better than the strange floaty feeling he had started to feel besides the itch under his skin.

Some small part of him noticed the way Jackson froze for a moment but that part was quickly losing against the hunger and need for a fix.

“He’s gone now.” He shrugged, already tired of any more talk of Tristan. “these no need to pay him anymore, mind.”

“Then what was this about? you hurt yourself.” Hayley asked as she finished taping down the bandage.

“A distraction.” the answer escaped him before he realised how bad it would sound if he expanded on it.

“What?” she asked 

“I needed a distraction.” he offered instead of what she really wanted, he couldn’t admit what he was, that even after a whole new life he was still a desperate addict.

“And cutting up your hand and arm was what you chose?” she said incredulously. Elijah stared at his bandaged hand not looking at either of them as he chewed the inside of his lip to stop himself from adding anything else, he could feel the weight of Hayley’s stare but she made no move to let go of his hand and with Jacskon at his side it was nice, not to be alone. 

“You're shaking” Jackson’s words distracted him and Hayley from wordless standoff, any words he had stalled on his tongue as Jackson spoke again. “Withdrawal?”

Elijah glared at his other hand, the one not held by Hayley, that had joined his legs, moving without his permission.

“From what?” Hayley asked, he didn’t look up from her hand moved from his wrist to carefully curled around his bandaged own. “Elijah.” she called, ducking her head into his view to catch his eyes.

It was Hayley’s tone and the way she looked at him that had him giving in, the lack of judgement.

“Heroin.” he admitted, it wasn’t much, more likely Tristan had given it to him out of amusement than true attempt to harm but it had brought his memories of Elias’s withdrawal with it and while his body didn’t really need it his mind thought they did.

There was a growl from Hayley.

“He drugged you.” Jackson spoke, while his tone didn’t carry any feeling Elijah looked between them to notice a growing yellow colour to their eyes

“It wasn’t much,” he tried to reassure them. “give it a few hours and it will pass.”

“A few hours.” Hayley echoed.

Elijah shifted slightly leaning away from Jackson and then violently shuddering at the sudden chill that sinks deep into his bones.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked looking between the two, the sooner they spoke the sooner they could leave and no longer waste their time on him failing.

“Not while you're like this.” Jackson said quickly, Elijah looked up to meet the other’s eyes, finding himself closer than he had expected.

“My mind is clear, it’s just my body’s reactions.” he countered, his mind was mostly clear, he admitted to himself as found he couldn’t remember when he had returned to leaning against Jackson’s side.

“So you need some sleep and you'll be free of this in the morning?” Hayley queried, forcing him to look back to her.

He nodded, not at all surprised as Hayley pulled him up and started to help him into the bed, he allowed her, too tired to bother trying to argue, relieved he had thought to change out of his suit earlier for a looser set of clothes.

He was a little surprised when Jackson and her didn’t leave once Elijah let her man handle him into his own bed.

“We came to talk about our relationship.” Jackson explained, Elijah blinked perhaps he was wrong and his mind was affected because the words were not making sense. 

Relationship, ‘our’ as in the three of them, he was in love with Hayley which he thinks she might return, but she was married and loved Jackson, he remembered her screams in the warehouse, the fact that it had broken through to the nightmare he was trapped within his mind.

Jackson loved Hayley.

Elijah's reluctant admiration and attraction towards Jackson was one sided.

So he wasn’t sure where they were getting with the ‘our’.

“Yeah.” Jackson nodded at Elijah’s silence, “ so we’ll talk about it after you’ve slept this off.”

“Easier said than done.” He couldn't help but argue slightly, being left alone with this feeling and his own thoughts was the last thing he wanted or needed. 

He wouldn’t undo Hayley’s care and work binding his hand but once they left he could find another way to distinct his body's nerves and heal it with magic in the morning once the worst of it had passed.

Hayley and Jackson looked at each other in silent communication. Elijah had to accept he really did need sleep as he found himself again unable to read a thing that passed between them, normally he was better at this.

“Well you're not going to be alone.” Hayley told him and Elijah couldn’t stop his audible noise of confusion as both of them started undressing slightly to join him in the bed.

Maybe Tristan had given him more than he thought, as he watched in stunned silence as the bed shifted and he found himself between the married couple.

His bed wasn’t too small, it was twice the size of his bed back in mystic falls and yet he still found himself sandwiched between the two, one of Hayley’s hands reaching out to entwine with his bandaged one as the over reached over him to hold Jackson’s.

He felt Jackson’s other arm move to rest above their heads, nothing was making much sense to Elijah as he laid in the quiet, but the feeling of both of the either side of him was working as a much better distraction than the cuts had as he couldn’t feel the itching under his skin.

He closed his eyes and decided to stop thinking. Hopefully in the morning he could think clearer and he could understand what was going on.

[its-spelt-vaermina]

TES oc infodump part 2!!! Humans!!

(Warning, even longer than the last post)

Atrizander

Raised by an Alik'r defector with his sister.

He knew the warrior wasn't their real father, though his sister lived in denial.

They lived as nomads, wandering from place to place and sleeping in tents when they weren't in cities.

Their caretaker had run off with a hefty sum of gold, and the kids worked as farmhands when they could.

When Atrizander was 12, they had stayed in the Imperial City for a few months.

He'd made friends with a few local boys during his stay, and often hung around outside the Arena.

Until his best friend got his shit kicked in by a 12 y/o Altmer girl.

Atrizander was slow to talk to Mara, he had a hard time warming up to people, especially due to what he's heard about the Thalmor.

But never the less, he and Mara grew to be good friends, up until the two moved away.

Atrizander was happy with their life, but his sister wanted something more.

When their caretaker fell ill, she paid off an inn-keeper to let him stay there while her and Atrizander went to go make some money.

The two ended up joining a bandit group. Both of them were skilled swordsman and needed the money, so it was pretty easy to convince the bandits to let them in.

They went all over the place, killing, looting, hiding, then doing it all over again.

Atrizander hated bandit life. He hated the way the others would talk to him and his sister, he hated the killing, he hated the mugging, he hated all of it.

In his off time he snuck out and visited Whiterun. It wasnt his first choice but it was the closest city.

He eventually joined the Companions.

Once his sister heard about him running off, she joined a band of monster hunters for a chance to find him and get him back for abandoning their bandit clan.

Honestly it was supposed to be this whole emotional battle but she didn't expect Atrizander to actually be in wolf form after Skjor's murder when she went to fight him so he didn't even know she was there until he went back to loot bodies.

Despite him and his sister not having a good relationship later in their lives, Atrizander still felt terrible over it.

The Companions couldn't get him to eat or drink for weeks afterwards, the only time he ever did was when Mara came along and said "fuck it" and used vampire mindfuckery to get him to eat.

Once he'd come to terms with most of his grief, he helped recruitment into the Moonlit Shields.

He was glad to see Mara again, as well as the other "Arena Boys" as they had taken to calling themselves.

Jaxyn the Hawk

Jaxyn was born and raised in Bruma by a Nord woman and an Imperial man.

His father was a professor at the Arcane University in the Imperial City, and rarely came home.

His mother was a trainer for the Bruma city guard.

Jaxyn was often left to fend for himself. He taught himself to cook, clean, sew, and hunt.

He'd often leave town for days at a time for hunting trips; townspeople noticed and began to question his mother about it, who responded with the fact that she didn't even know he was leaving.

Early into his teenage years he began to mouth off to his parents a lot more, to their surprise.

"Young man, for the record, I put food on the table." *Motions to said food on said table, which Jaxyn caught and prepared.*

After a particularly bad argument with his father, he packed up and left.

He felt no remorse, especially considering his father said he didn't want to see him again.

He crossed the border to Skyrim just before Ulfric decided to pull his bullshit.

He hunted for himself, and lived on his own out in the woods.

He began to find that he had a knack for befriending animals, both predators and prey.

He rode a large stag to get places quickly, and had a friendship with a pack of wolves that lived nearby.

He heard about the war when he crossed through Riverwood on his way home; he had stopped for a drink and met Ralof, who had come in from Helgen earlier that day.

He kinda said fuck it and headed off to Windhelm to join the rebellion.

He stayed with them for a while, becoming a soldier in a team led by a blind nord named Prism.

After a while, however, someone heard of an Imperial professor missing his son.

People started to connect the dots based on description and retold history.

Many of the other soldiers didn't take kindly to having an Imperial in their ranks, and he ended up disappearing without a trace.

In all reality, he just went back to his camp in the woods.

He was passing through Riften for supplies when he was approached by Brynjolf.

Long story short, he quickly became an elite member of the Thieves Guild, going on to even become the Guild Master.

Solovythei actually came to him about the Moonlit Shields.

They'd come to the Flagon for Delvin, but decided that connections to the Guild would be beneficial, both in the war and for the Shields.

He agreed to join, under the condition that his Guildmates stay protected from the Companions, and the Riften guard.

Prism Silver-Snare

Prism grew up in Windhelm

He faced a lot of adversity, both growing up trans and blind; the only person who really had his back was his mother; a former war hero.

Many people underestimated him, which, to be fair, was normal because he was a pretty dull kid.

However, as he grew up, he learned how to handle himself.

With help from his mother, he learned to echolocate, and use surrounding scents and noises to help him both in daily life and in battle.

When he became old enough, he joined the Civil War on the Stormcloak side.

He was good at downplaying the fact that he was blind, but he was still known as "The Blind Blade."

For a short time, he even went by Prism Blind-Blade.

He slowly climbed the ranks; he was an amazing warrior and a great leader.

His mother couldn't be more proud of him.

He's the only renowned warrior that didn't join the Moonlit Shields, however he did aid them.

After a long conversation with Equiun and Mara, Prism realized Ulfric's values didn't have the citizens' wellbeing in best interest, that he prioritized Nords over everyone else.

Prism kept fighting, but also fed information to the Shields.

Ara

Ara is. A strange creature.

She was born to a lowly Dark Brotherhood assassin, and grew up in the field.

She was an adept killer, and rose to the rank of Speaker.

Though, with Astrid's leadership, Ara often questioned the true meaning of the Brotherhood.

She often read about the old ways and the Tenets, but was shut up when she asked any questions.

She was often told Sithis would despise her if she continued to go against her leader's word.

So she left.

She heard about the Dawnguard, packed her shit, and left.

She quickly made friends with those in the Dawnguard, and was a damn good vampire hunter.

She especially had a sweet spot for Isran, who she grew closer to during her time with the Dawnguard.

She was approached by a strange figure one day.

One thing led to the next, suspicious words led to a battle, and she was landed with Sanguinare Vampiris, unknown to her.

After a few days, she fully turned.

She didn't notice at first, but her bloodlust got more and more intense as time went on, causing her to loose her mind and rampage in a small village, killing a good four people before being apprehended by the Dawnguard.

Isran refused to kill her, instead forcing her to go to Morthal to get cured.

When she returned, Isran had some. Words. To say the least.

After a particularly heated screaming match, Ara killed him.

She locked herself in his quarters with his dead body for several days, grieving and panicking over what she did.

She eventually disposed of his body in the fire and took his place, claiming that Isran had abandoned the Dawnguard and ran off to rejoin the Vigilants of Stendarr.

Not many believed her at firsr, but seeing as Isran wasn't coming back, they slowly accepted that as the truth, and accepted her as their leader.

After all, she was his second in command, why would she lie?

Mara was the one to approach her about the Shields.

Ara was hesitant at first, seeing as how a vampire just waltzed in and asked her to ally with them.

However, Mara explained that factions didn't matter in the Shields; it was about protecting Skyrim from threats that harmed them all, no matter werewolf, vampire, or human. Starting with the war tearing the country apart and killing hundreds.

Ara hesitantly accepted.

The fact that there were vampires in the Shields was kept secret from the rest of the Dawnguard, to ensure their alliance and Mara's safety.

Not that Mara would have any trouble slaughtering the entire group, and she made that very clear during her meeting with Ara, but it was appreciated nonetheless.

Thelonius Valtieri

Thelonius was born and raised in Cheydinhal.

His family was well off, due to his ancestor's line of work.

The Dark Brotherhood was much more utilized in the times of the Oblivion Crisis, and Vicente had even longer to set aside assets for his coming generations.

Thelonius, unfortunately, never met Vicente. The vampire died long before Thelonius was born. However, he heard stories of the great assassin that Vicente was.

The Cyrodill Dark Brotherhood was dead by the time Thelonius decided he wanted to follow in Vicente's footsteps.

So, off he went to Skyrim, with his father and brothers happily sending him letters at all points in his journey.

When he arrived and actually made it into the Dark Brotherhood, he was...discouraged by the state of the guild.

He tried to stay, he really did, but it was difficult, so he left.

He worked as a freelance assassin up until Solovythei took control of the Brotherhood and turned it around.

They heard word of Thelonius from the Ghost of Lucien Lachance, so they sent for him.

By the time Thelonius rejoined the Brotherhood, he had found another interest; the study of the supernatural.

In his free time, he studied monsters and Daedra endlessly.

When Solovythei offered him a chance to join the Shields, and told him he'd be able to talk to real vampires and werewolves, he was ecstatic.

Once actually in the Shields, he was overjoyed to learn about not only these otherwordly creatures, but from Equiun, who had first-hand experiences with every Daedric Prince.

During his time with the Shields, he performed an experiment that would change the course of his life.

He had requested both Atrizander and Mara to turn him simultaneously, to see if he could survive as a werewolf-vampire hybrid.

Good news, he could! Bad news, it was extremely painful - not just the initial turning but life on the daily.

The werewolf blood and vampire blood constantly warred within him, causing his whole body to ache.

Still, he pushed on.

Theta Tucker

Theta had an average childhood.

He was born and raised in Kvatch to two loving parents.

He even grew up to become part of the city guard.

When Brother Martin arrived in town, he quickly grew close with (and fond of) the priest.

What fucked him up came later in life, in his early 20's, when his hometown burned to the ground at the hands of the Daedra.

He had led a small group of survivors to the church.

He fought tooth and nail until help arrived, and long after.

He joined the journey to bring Martin to Weynon Priory.

He and Martin were close during the journey, until a down period while the Hero of Kvatch was out adventuring and closing gates.

During this down period, Theta left to explore a certain portal that opened in the Niben Bay.

He promised to come back soon, but we all know how that goes.

He entered the Shivering Isles and, as it does, one thing led to another and he was crowned the new incarnation of the MadGod.

He broke and rebuilt his mind more times than he could count.

After months (or maybe years, he stopped counting at some point) he returned to Cyrodill.

He went back to travelling with Martin and Juno, using his newfound powers along the way to help.

It didn't take him long to realize Martin had waited long enough for him and fell for Juno instead.

It hurt like hell, but he chalked it up to him being gone for so long.

He didnt hold it against either of them, and he was with Martin until the very end, but its still something he thinks about for all eternity.

His bloodline continues through a drunken fling with a mortal woman, who would go on to be Atrizander's grandmother.

Juno

Juno is. Certainly a creature.

Genderless Immortal Being saves Cyrodill, more at 5.

It just woke up one day in prison. No recollection of the past, no documents of any existing family, just a name and a killer sword arm.

It almost never spoke throughout the entire journey, only ever speaking to Martin or Theta.

Juno would end up becoming the most renowned and legendary hero in 4th Era Cyrodill, and still no information about where it came from.

Or why it won't die.

Seriously, it has been around for longer than any human should be.

It was Juno's heroic history that drew Equiun to them for the Moonlit Shields.

It barely spoke to him at first, but joined when he was persistant enough.

[honestgrins]

if you're doing prompts... Mates Trope?! something during s1-2 of TO where part of the reason the wolves (or maybe just the elders who are very righteous about tradition) don't trust klaus is because he wanders around with everyone but his mate (which for this purpose i guess they can sense when a wolf is mated)

Oh || Klaroline

Elijah frowned deeply. “I’m not sure which scenario would be less tolerable to the pack, you being disrespectful to the mate bond or being mated to a vampire.”

Cradling the noticeable swell of her baby bump, Hayley snorted. “I might very well be carrying the next alpha with his disrespectful ass, so they’ll get over it eventually,” she pointed out. “But the vampire thing is always going to be a problem.”

“Not if Miss Forbes stays away from New Orleans.”

That was the crux of it, truly. Whether or not he had a mate, there was precious little Klaus could do about it in the eyes of the pack while she gave his city a wide berth. Honestly, her absence would likely make it all easier for them to swallow - perhaps to forget entirely with a few generations of distance. The thought left a hollow feeling in his chest, one far more noticeable since learning of his…predicament.

Learning he was to be a father after a millennium of running from the only one he’d ever known had been difficult enough. He’d ingratiated himself into the fabric of New Orleans in order to situate it to his needs, even softening the wolf pack to the idea of his leadership outside of the traditional hierarchy - at least, until he returned from Mystic Falls with a freshly established mate bond he apparently left behind.

A mate bond he could only imagine began with a defiant kiss and a slow-rising smile as bright as a sunlit afternoon.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know a thing about it until Hayley broke the news as to why the pack had turned against him. It was small comfort to know her use as a direct line in the camp, but he needed more. He knew so little about life as a wolf, that having been denied him for so long. “How can they know that I’ve found my mate?” Suspicion was a long-earned habit, and nothing was adding up. “How can they sense it here when I had no idea with her right in my arms?”

With a delicate cough, Elijah leaned forward to take some of his focus off Hayley. “I understand this is a difficult revelation, and there’s much to be learned about the mate phenomenon. However, I feel there’s a decided advantage in ensuring Miss Forbes is a non-factor in the politics of the city.”

His hand was around his brother’s throat before he could consciously think to do it, his hybrid strength more than enough to pin Elijah to the wall. “Stop. Talking.”

“Klaus.” Hayley’s voice was shaking, and her hands now covered her belly in a protective gesture. “You feel it now, don’t you? The need to protect her above all else?” She stood slowly, careful not to spook him further. “Even over your own brother?”

With excruciating control, he loosened his grip, finger by finger. “Alright,” he breathed once he could manage it past the sudden onslaught of rage. “I’m listening.”

.

“Caroline, you’re up!”

For at least the third time that afternoon, Caroline reminded herself there were too many witnesses at the Fall Festival to eat her sorority sisters. "I'm all for scamming money out of sleaze bags in the name of philanthropy, but I still think there are better ways to go about it than a kissing booth."

Amber just scoffed. "Suck it up, pledge, we all had to pay our dues," she said, divesting herself of the Gamma blue sash that said Kiss me! and handing it to Caroline. "If it helps, there's a total hottie in line. I almost extended my shift to get a chance at him."

Rolling her eyes, she forced a pageant smile as she slipped the sash over her head. "Thanks for your sacrifice."

"Funny," a familiar voice noted behind her. "You never thanked me for any of the sacrifices I made."

With a deep breath, she tried to make herself count to ten before turning. Call it personal growth that she made it to six when her glare fell on Klaus waiting at the booth. "I'm sorry, are we including the time you literally tried to sacrifice me? Because I'm so not in the mood to deal with you today, in case you can't tell."

"Oh my god, Caroline!" Amber looked mildly scared, but she took a step in front of her anyway, a stance she recognized from other sisters at any number of frat parties when a creep made himself known. "Who is this guy? Do I need to call security?"

She glanced back to Klaus, who remained uncharacteristically quiet as she decided what to do. Reluctantly, she met Amber's eyes with widened pupils. "Everything is fine, but someone needs to cover my shift. You never saw him, and I went home sick." When Amber obediently repeated her words, she also returned the sash. "Thanks!" she called out, quick as she was to flash away from the crowd, knowing he would follow.

Her dorm wasn't exactly a safe bet, given Elena and Damon's constant sexiling, and she didn't want to risk Bonnie catching them on campus. The only place she could think of was the wooded trail behind the chemistry building, where she found a quiet bench for them to sit. Well, for him to sit and for her to pace in front of. "We had a deal, Klaus. You weren't supposed to come back."

"To Mystic Falls," he clarified, his hands pressed together between his knees. At her decided frown, he allowed himself a sigh of discomfort. "Unfortunately, I have good reason to violate the spirit of our agreement."

She crossed her arms and waited.

He sighed again. "Sweetheart-"

"Just rip the band-aid off, Klaus!"

"I need you to accompany me back to New Orleans, and I need you to trust me enough to keep you safe," he said. With eyes intent on hers, his energy seemed barely contained, like he wanted nothing more than to grab her and go. "I would like you to do so freely. And quickly."

Her arms tightened, and she sank onto her jutted hip as she took in his plaintive request. "Points for being polite, I guess, but I doubt you would be if I were in any real danger. What I don't know is if this is you being overly cautious or just being a dick."

Rubbing two fingers at his temple, there was an ancient exhaustion in his face. "Neither of us can truly know what this is," he muttered to himself more than anything. He spoke up with more resolve. "Elijah wanted to hide you away in one of our many properties throughout the world, and Rebekah suggested a less involved plan that offered you an anonymous scholarship across the country - anything to keep you far away from me."

"Why are your siblings trying to get rid of me?" she demanded. "I didn't even do anything."

He shifted on his feet, and he couldn't quite meet her eyes. If he weren't Klaus Mikaelson, she might think he were embarrassed. "Your absence in New Orleans has been noted."

Confused, she pressed her hands to her face. "I seriously doubt that, since I've never been there. The only people I know in New Orleans is your family, and you've already established they don't want me there."

His ears flushed red, and then she knew he was embarrassed. "Hayley has found a home with nearby pack," he explained with a wince, "a pack that could prove necessary to the balance of the city. However, they are disinclined to negotiate with me at the moment."

"Gee, I wonder why. How many of them have you killed so far?"

Klaus gave a ferocious glare. "None, actually. But perhaps you missed the fact that a wolf with a known grudge against you is well placed to inform any number of enemies of your name and location."

The scoff burst out of her without permission, an absolute confidence emboldening her. "Like you'd let that happen."

Then he took a step closer, and that confidence withered into a new understanding - one that scared her. His voice lowered, soft in its menace. "Why do you think I'm here, Caroline?"

She swallowed, the tension unbearably thick between them. "I'm no one," she said, her voice shaky as she fought for the calm she felt only moments before. "Even if they could use me against you-"

"They can," he answered, deadly serious. "And they will. Maybe not now, but someday." He watched her closely; for what, she didn't know. His whole face softened whenever he found whatever he was looking for. "I'm only just beginning to understand myself," he admitted. "But you're far from no one, and I need to establish that you're firmly under my protection."

"Why?" He never really answered her questions, Caroline realized. This one, though... This, she needed to know. "Why me?"

His eyes seemed to burn with gold, and she held her breath as he stared. "Wolves know when another has found their mate, and this pack has judged my character unfit for abandoning mine."

If she weren't a vampire, she would swear her legs might collapse beneath her. As it was, her head felt suddenly light. Her mouth fell open, and she finally remembered to breathe. When she exhaled, it escaped as a sigh. "Oh."

"Yes, oh."

[tenthgrove]

Vampire La Squadra Notes

Apologies but the brain worm has not released me, and I am now compiling all my thoughts about vampire LS, what their backstories would be and how they live today.

(This is largely an excuse to talk about which period of history LS would vibe best with.)

Included: Risotto, Sorbet, Gelato, Prosciutto, Melone. Not sure on the lore for the others yet though a couple are mentioned.

Kudos to @pseudo-possum as 90% of this was born out of conversations with them.

Context- Okay before we start I'm just gonna talk a bit about the particular type of vampire I'm using here. Namely, a weird mix of authentic Bram Stoker, TMA, and what ever I find convenient/sexy. I tried to make these vampires as biologically sound as possible, though some purely supernatural elements are inevitable, but the point is that most religious wards like crosses don't work. They also pass off as much more human, being able to eat (they just don't get any value from it) go out at day (they just prefer to hunt at night for practical reasons), age (up until about 25) and sleep (but instead of 8 hours asleep, 16 awake it's more like 2 weeks asleep, 3 months awake). They follow a metabolic cycle around their blood-drinking, getting increasingly hungry over the long wakeful period, going into a borderline blood-frenzy after they drink with crazy speed and strength, then becoming incredibly sleepy after they've gone a few hours without blood and hibernate. The more they drink, the longer the hibernation and subsequent wakeful period.

A feature I made up out of thin air because this is a self-insert blog and we love a good sappy fanfic trope is that, as an evolutionary control measure on their population, vampires are only capable of converting/reproducing biologically with their soulmates. This is a somewhat misleading term because a vampire can have hundreds scattered across the world at any one moment and most don't create an inherent romantic attraction. Emphasis on most.

Wow, that took longer than expected. Anyway, hot vampires:

Prosciutto

Born in 31 CE to Roman nobility. Earned an excellent military reputation during the campaign against Queen Boudicca in what is now England and eventually rose to the rank of general.

At the age of 40, was set upon by an assassin who was secretly a vampire. He managed to slay the vampire but not before being bitten, and since the pair were unwittingly soulmates this caused Prosciutto to become a vampire himself.

Continued to live well under a series of new identities until Rome collapsed in the 5th century, at which point the true horror of his immortality set in and he fell into a deep misery.

Started to liven up again around the renaissance, more frequently settling down for a few decades under a human identity. In the 19th century he even had a manor built for himself where he still lives today.

Owing to his age and involvement in human society, a very controlled vampire who is safe to be around if he isn't consciously trying to eat you. Like many vampires who choose to live amongst humanity, he's taken to inheriting his own money under a new name every 50 years or so, making him very wealthy over the centuries.

Still somewhat melancholy owing to the loss of his culture at birth, but much better than he was in the middle ages. Although he tries to participate in modern life it still utterly baffles him, and is yet to figure out the internet.

Just a few years ago in fact he met Pesci, discovering they were platonic soulmates. Deciding to actually make a friend for once he turned Pesci into his vampire apprentice.

Sorbet

Sorbet was born to a common family in what was then Constantinople, in the 6th century CE. Joined the military for a better life and got stationed in North Italy, right before the Byzantines lost it. Ended up being left behind.

After some wandering he sought shelter in the house of (unknown to him) a male vampire. The vampire originally intended to kill him but after realising they were soulmates, consensually turned him into a vampire. The pair became lovers.

After a couple hundred years the relationship turned foul and Sorbet had to kill his lover in self-defence. He then fled and became a wanderer again, living wildly and killing humans travelling through the wilderness.

Met Gelato in 1633. More on that later.

His lifestyle became inconvenient with industrialisation and he now lives somewhat more peacefully with the humans around him. Still quite the sadistic and bloodthirsty vampire who enjoys the hunt.

Probably responsible for at least 5 unsolved serial killer cases in the late 19th/early 20th century.

Risotto

Born in Sicily to minor nobility in the 11th century. As a baby his entire house was killed off by plague except for himself, his grandmother and his cousin. His cousin wanted to travel, so gave up his claim to the lordship to Risotto, under the protectorship of their grandmother.

When Risotto was 21 his village was invaded by Vikings. To stop the bloodshed Risotto duelled two of the Viking's best warriors, won, and declared he would join them in exchange for his people being let live. Unknown to him, his cousin was killed anyway to keep the village in line.

Followed the Vikings for many years until he overheard what happened to his cousin. Went into a rage and slaughtered the entire troup, but was badly injured in the process. The smell of blood attracted a nearby vampire, who impressed with what he saw, turned Risotto.

Despite the vampire's best efforts Risotto refused to team up with him and went on alone to return to his village. He discovered his grandmother had died mere months before and a number of her possessions had been confiscated by the family's feudal lord on the grounds they were not noble enough to own them.

Risotto went to the lord and slaughtered him in front of his court. The terrified servants spread the word the castle had been seized by a demon and it became known as cursed ground for centuries.

Still lives in that castle, rarely leaving or forming connections with others. Knows basically nothing about modern life as a result and has some hilarious misconceptions.

Gelato

Born in the 1610s to high-ranking Italian gentry. As a fourth son his family had strong hopes for him as a court scholar to win favour from the local king, but he proved to have a poor disposition for such a role.

His family wanted to send him far away to marry but he straight up refused so was beaten and locked away as punishment. Unknown to any of them, Sorbet had broken into the house to kill them and steal their expensive possessions, but developed an obsession with Gelato and continued to observe them in secret.

It soon became clear to Sorbet that Gelato was not only his soulmate, but the rare sort that brings with it an overwhelming attraction. Sorbet kidnapped him, and it wasn't long before Gelato loved him back and agreed to be turned into a vampire.

Gelato was always more worldly than Sorbet, and convinced him to stop living as a vagrant so they could actually live somewhere comfortable. They now have a few houses dotted around Europe for them to drift between.

Quite recently they attempted to adopt an orphan, Ghiaccio, but were forced to accept he would never truly see them as fathers. He now lives out on his own but they did turn him into a vampire and are still on (by Ghiaccio standards) good terms.

Side-note: Sorbet painted a few pictures of Gelato while he was spying on him and they're now in a museum somewhere. Queer art-kids everywhere fawn at the "unconventional portrayal of a male aristocrat for the era, leading many to theorise a romantic desire for the subject by the anonymous painter."

Melone

Born at the height of the enlightenment in the 18th century in France. Comfortably middle class, he intended to be a lifelong academic and studied in several fields (this is back when everything from medicine to astronomy was grouped together as 'the natural sciences').

A darling of the court, it's highly feasible a visiting vampire would have fallen head over heels for him upon realising they were soulmates and turned him at once, in a failed attempt to win him over.

Continued to live the life he had as a human for as long as possible, but eventually gave up and disappeared after seeing the French Revolution coming.

Possesses a very rare gift that allows him to tell other vampires who their soulmates are, where to find them and how strong the connection will be just by meeting that vampire. Incredibly sought after for this reason and has made himself very wealthy off of using his gift as a service.

Ever the scientist, he's by far the most up to date with modern society and technology. Lives in a big penthouse in some city somewhere.

[thestalkerbunny]

More Shadow Oaks content? More Shadow Oaks Content. Meet the Brimstone Clan, the oldest and redneck clan of tieflings in Shadow Oak (as well as meet Celeste's Vampire Sire.) Granted this is only 1/4th of the actual clan. The actual full family is much much bigger.

Gunter Hedwig is a Drow who fell into the trap that was opium dens during the 1800s. He literally wasted away and died in one and resurrected as a vampire without even noticing for a while. (since he thought being pale and hungry and uncomfortable was just his natural default state.)Thanks to his high tolerance to drugs-he basically traveled the lands seeking a bigger and better high. Around the time of the 80s or so he bit Celeste; although neither of them seem to be able to remember this happening-they just know now they're both vampires and the fun can never end. Eventually they seem to had gotten separated and Celeste was found by her current keeper, Brone, face down in her own pool of blood and vomit. She was legally removed from the care of Gunter because of his neglect of her and himself and will be permitted to see her again if he cleans up his act. He also does not remember this court hearing and does often see her regardless. He lurks out in Warm Waters-Shadow Oak's superior sister city- and deals drugs out of the clubs there, which is were Celeste gets most of hers. he is tragically not that bright and drugs do not help that fact. He's often addled out of his mind and hardly recognizes people, he hardly recognizes Celeste half the time if it weren't for her very loud voice and pink outfit.

Old Man Jeb Brimstone

The Grandfather of the Brimstone Clan, He's the oldest member next to his wife who is older than him by 5 years. A crotchety old koot, he's the embodiment of 'get off my property you damn kids' and 'I remember when you could go to the county fair on only a quarter'. He can hardly hear, his entire existence is apparently a spit in the eye of the god of death as he's survived numerous near fatal events and is starting to go a bit blind in one eye. Brimstone youth have to do a mandatory check in on him daily to make sure he's alive and something didn't fall on him again. Old Man Brimstone manages the junkyard of the town-local lore goes he built the junkyard on top of a Hell Gate-a naturally occurring portal in the world that infernal creatures can pass thru-so true evil cannot escape and spends his free time shooting infernal imps with a sawed off shot gun. Only that's rumor, he just may be an extreme hoarder who managed to movie his weird junk fixation to a property that isn't his house. That rumor is fueled however by the presence of his guard dog, Girl Dog, a massive Hell hound that patrols the grounds day and night.

Mary Brimstone

The original Brimstone Matriarch, Jeb ended up taking her last name considering how she was the one in the family had the land and money and titles. Just as grumpy and confused about everything as Jeb is, Mary is a bit more of a home body-only leaving to go down into the hollow outside the trailer park they all reside in to visit her still. She is a good cook and prides herself on being able to make a meal out of anything that's laying around and insists on a MANDATORY Sunday Family dinner of the entire clan once a month. A family that eats together is stronger together. Most of the family tries to keep her and Jeb in the dark about things like two of the grandchildren being gay and one of her sons contemplating marrying his fey coworker out of fear of how these two old fashioned grumpy grandparents would react. Plot twist, Jeb doesn't care and Mary probably already knows. Her hobbies are hitting people with a wooden spoon and hollering. The children may have a taste of the moonshine when they turn 18, as is tradition, to make sure they KNOW what good liquor tastes like.

Tief and Tire-Autobody and Repair Garage

Ottoman 'Auto Otto' Brimstone is the owner of the Tief and Tire garage and the oldest of the Brimstone brothers. He has a love of everything mechanical and is the kind of friendly old mechanic who will give you a discount just because 'we're neighbors, neighbors don't gotta pay 500 bucks for a new part that I can find and fix in the junkyard for free' The type of guy unafraid to help a stranger fix a flat tire or give 'em a tow back to town when their car is totaled in a ditch. He's the kind of dad who doesn't exactly always understands what his kinds are talking about and struggles to keep up with their lives since they seem to go much faster than he does-but he often supports them even if he doesn't know what the fuck is going on.

Diana is Otto's wife and doesn't really have much going on. Her idea of a good time is sipping fruity beers, feeding her numerous chickens little tiny pancakes and reading trash romance novels. She is often concerned for her kids, but supportive in her own way. She's a bit intimidated by her mother in law and for the right reasons and struggles to try and make her proud with her cooking. She specializes in chicken and dumplings (do not tell her chickens)

Angelo Brimstone is the older employee of the garage, he has a love of cars and things that go fast and is happiest when it comes to fixing and restoring things. He claims that bringing the beauty in something old and unloved back to the surface is very cathartic. He lacks a bit of school smarts but still plans to go thru with his final year to get a proper Class based education. He's divided between Barbarian and Artificer. He belongs to the Brimstone Clan-the biggest tiefling family in Shadow Oaks as well as the oldest. He often is a bit forgetful that friendly gestures he gives to strangers can seem sexual-resulting him being the targeted fantasies of individuals in his age category.

Amelia Brimstone is the younger sister of Angelo who also works at the garage. She prefers specializing in fixing the bodies of vehicles and paint jobs, although there's not much demand for car modifications so she ends up pulling dents out of cars most of the time much to her chagrin as her creativity is squandered. She's often very protective of her 'himbo' of a brother because people seem to want to take advantage of his amicable easy go along personality. Amelia herself is a lesbian, if the mullet, the tattoo on the side of her head, her 'I <3 Womans' sticker on the back of motorbike wasn't telling enough-She is still hopeful although she's probably going to want to look outside of Shadow Oaks-where everyone is in everyone's business.

Fiend and Fey-Attorneys at Law

The finest Lawyers Shadow Oaks can offer. Which often isn't saying a whole lot because everything from Shadow Oaks seems to produce everything made by the lowest bidder-but for once, these two are the people you want in your corner in the court room. Nobody can find a loop hole for you faster than Fiend and Fey-the finest of negotiators and deal makers the both of them. If they can't get you out of jail, they can at least get a ankle tracker on you for the next half year and a house arrest with a community service and mandatory theraphy vist bargin deal.

Rusalika GoodForest-or Rusa-is the fey of the team. A pixie of very small size (and even smaller enlarged sized) Her entire personality is best summed up as Elle Woods from Legally Blonde. Ever an optimist and a fan of cute outfits, the color pink and good skin and hair care, Rusa is very smart despite the 'dumb fairy blonde' assumptions make about her. In the Feywilds, a blue antennead pixie is regarded as someone who would 'make a good spouse'-which is the polite translation to common. Rusa is an unofficial member of the Brimstone clan and often comes to their Sunday family dinners and plays with the younger Brimstones as she is roughly the same size as them. Rusalika lives in a tree in Eidlewood's backyard.

Eidlewood 'Iddy' Brimstone is the fiend of the team. Belonging to the Brimstone Tiefling Family-one of the oldest and most redneck group of people living in Shadow Oaks since the 1920s, he seems to be one of the more accomplished of the Brimstones. He's often cited by his 'feral hick' relatives to get them out of ridiculous jail allegations, which he often assists in getting them out. Eidlewood is very level headed and clinical when it comes to his work. He's very unafraid to tell clients that they will most likely go to jail for their crimes and they will probably be shived in a lunchroom power move to assert dominance by lower ranking prisoners. But he will do his absolute best for you in the court room to get you the least damning sentence possible if you are as guilty as the court finds.

He is unfortunately very much in love with Rusalika and is embarrassed at his hesitance regarding his relationship with her because marriage to a Fey is basically handing a big part of your identity over to them and basically relinquishing a lot of yourself personally for the sake of this union and he doesn't think he could make that level of a sacrifice and thinking about it for too long scares him. Also he uh. Probably should make her his GIRLFRIEND first. Or let her know he likes her that way.

[bottomlouisficfest]

Now that the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020 has concluded, we know that a lot of readers will have more time to catch up on some of the amazing fics they may have missed over the past two months. We encourage everyone to check out the full collection and to scroll through this masterpost of the 70 incredible fics that were posted during this year’s fest.

Please be sure to give all of these fics love - offer kudos, leave comments, reblog their fic posts on Tumblr, and retweet the fic posts on Twitter to help spread the word about these fics. The fest ending does not mean that our appreciation and reading of these fics has to end too.

Thank you for following along with this fest! We appreciate every single one of you - and we’ll see you later this year for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2021. 😊💜

Rainbow Bloom

A fic by dandelionfairies on AO3 | @dandelionfairies on Tumblr | dandelionfairi1 on Twitter

22k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis is in denial. Louis has been in denial for far too long. Then Harry enters his life and everything changes.

Breakable Heaven

A fic by amomentoflove on AO3 | @daggerandrose on Tumblr | dagger_rosefics on Twitter

44k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

bang bang (my baby shot me down)

A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter

16k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I walked in on them having sex again,” Niall says after a beat of hesitation.

Liam still looks confused. “Why’s this different from every other time we’ve seen them having sex?” Liam asks, and oh, Harry knows Liam really doesn’t want to know the answer to this one.

Niall’s gone silent then, and Harry almost thinks they’re in the clear. Liam is back to scrolling through his phone, and Zayn is whispering something to Louis that makes the older boy giggle. They’re going to get through this car ride without a murder.

But then Niall’s covering his face with his sweatshirt, taking in a breath and on his exhale, Harry hears him mutter, “Louis was wearing knickers.”

Liam’s phone clatters to the floor of the car.

Don't You Know That I'm a Moon in Daylight?

A fic by wildholly on AO3 | @bottomlwt on Tumblr | bottomloulou on Twitter

58k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 79. Louis and Harry fell in love in the 18th century, Louis wanted Harry to convert him into a vampire, but he ended up resenting Harry for it. Fast forward to our modern days, they haven’t seen each other since then, but one day they meet again through a mutual friend. Harry was bitter for a long time, but he accepted that being angry wouldn't erase the fact that Louis was the love of his life. He wanted to court and spoil Louis like in their original time period, but Louis avoided him every time Harry tried to reconnect. Happy ending!

practice in pencil, seal it in pen

A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter

16k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 174: AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending please

or Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

tastes like summer, smiles like may

A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | outropetals on Twitter

47k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Is this true?” Harry grabbed the beta by the shoulders. “Bryce, where did you hear that?”

“There’s rumors going around the castle,” he smirked. “stories about his beauty and his cold attitude. They know he is an omega only because of his scent, but he has never had a heat.”

“Do you know what this means?”

Bryce smirk grew into a big smile. “He can’t give you an heir.”

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

blinded by the sparks

A fic by wallstracktwo on AO3 | @wallstracktwo on Tumblr

22k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"You can’t even keep your lies straight. Mike has the memory of an elephant and can remember every single detail about every single person he’s ever met, so don’t stand there and tell me that he mixed you up with someone else.” He took back Harry’s cigarette. “I saw you exchanging lower chips for higher ones. I saw you counting the cards. There is no fucking way you won seven thousand dollars tonight honestly. And so I will repeat myself — I want in. Fifty-fifty.”

Harry was completely taken aback by the stunningly attractive man standing in front of him. He made several attempts to say something — opening and closing his mouth at least twice before he was finally able to string a few words together. “What? No. No way. No. Sorry, but I work alone.”

That was the truth too — he had never trusted anyone enough to let them get close, especially when it came to his scamming, so having a partner was completely, utterly out of the question.

“Don’t you think you need someone on the…” Louis’ tongue darted out, licking his lips as his eyes flickered to Harry’s mouth, one eyebrow cocking up. “...inside.”

Or - Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.

somewhere in between

A fic by soldouthaz on AO3 | @soldouthaz on Tumblr | soldouthaz on Twitter

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers.

There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant.

Shit.

On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine

A fic by Safetypinprince on AO3 | @roselouis on Tumblr | femboyIouis on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.  

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

Alternatively titled: and they were roommates.

A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid)

A fic by MyEnglishRose on AO3 | @lwtisloved on Tumblr | darlinlou on Twitter

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“So… we’re doing this?”

Louis shrugs, suddenly acting disinterested.

“Your call, Curly.”

Instead of a verbal response, Harry suddenly takes Louis’ left hand in his. The black ring seems to nag him as the fire’s light reflects its polished edges. He ignores Louis’ curious gaze as he quickly takes off one of his own rings — the rose one —, sliding it on Louis’ middle finger. It is a little large and when he lets go of his hand, Louis has to curl it into a fist so the ring doesn’t immediately fall off.

“We’ll tell them it’s a promise ring, not an actual engagement,” Harry declares, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks feel. Hopefully, it can’t be seen as he is facing away from the fireplace.

“Right… could have gotten me a fitted ring though, my Harry ten years ago was more thoughtful.”

Louis’ tone is light and teasing again. It creates a small smile on Harry’s lips.

“Someday,” he whispers before he even registers it himself.

They both ignore it.

Or. A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.

sweet like honey

A fic by falsegoodnight on AO3 | @falsegoodnight on Tumblr | falsegoodnight on Twitter

33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.

It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.

Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.

For a while, it’s enough.

-

Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

Spoonful of Sugar

A fic by zanni_scaramouche on AO3 | @zanniscaramouche on Tumblr

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry Styles.  

A name better suited for a myth than a man. Like the name of the devil, people either whisper it in fear or laugh it off as fable. Cut it open and this city’s heart doesn’t bleed red. It’s snowy white, and it pulses in the tight grip of Lucifer himself.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

Let's Break the Internet

A fic by louizsv on AO3 | @ashleyjohnsonfanaccount on Tumblr | piccadillyplum on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I’ll tell you what,” Sam leans forward in his chair and steeples his fingers in front of his face, “If you actually make an account and sell nudie pics and porn for more than three months, I’ll believe you.”

Louis purses his lips, ignoring the returning blush on his cheeks at the thought of having to film himself in compromising positions or taking photos of himself without any clothes on. Raising his chin defiantly, Louis accepts the challenge.

“Fine,” he agrees, “But when I win, you have to make one too.”

Lips quirked, Sam nods and holds out a hand, “Deal.” -- Or, the one where Louis is an Only Fans baby.

in a sea of mist

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr

126k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

Across the Grey, Salty Sea

A fic by thecheshirepussycat on AO3 | @the-cheshire-pussy-cat on Tumblr | Bee_With_Mee on Twitter

19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

When Our Worlds They Fall Apart

A fic by edensrose on AO3 | @holdingthornsandroses on Tumblr | thetrashpigeon on Twitter

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”

Written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020- Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.

Thank you, five.

A fic by nouies on AO3 | @nouies on Tumblr | _nouies on Twitter

5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.

“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.

“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.

There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”

~

Prompt 195: Hamilton AU

Know I Think You're Awesome, Right?

A fic by princesshalo on AO3 | @princesshalo on Tumblr | tpwkorra on Twitter

60k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Well, that’s not very Treat People With Kindness of you.”

“Neither is approaching someone with the sole intent of criticizing a cause they’re clearly passionate about, given the amount of time they’ve dedicated to advocating for it,” Louis snaps.

“Sure, but I’m not the one with the button,” Harry shrugs.

“So, is there actually something I can help you with, or did you just come to push me into pepper spraying you as well?” Louis is quickly growing impatient. Hell, he was impatient the moment that Harry made his grand entrance on campus yesterday.

“I’m just trying to assess the environment here,” Harry says, “Because if this is all you’ve got to offer trans people who just want to be able to use the bathroom in peace like the rest of us, then I’m not sure I fit in.”

“Allow me to save you the trouble, then: you don’t.”

~

Based on the prompt: a college AU where Louis is a hippie, very good vibes activist and Harry is a punk, anarchist that always gets involved in violent protests.

show you the stars in daylight

A fic by bruisedhoney on AO3 | @yvesaintlourent on Tumblr | bruisedhoney on Twitter

13k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”

And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form.  Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.

“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”

Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.

Freeway of Love (In a Pink Cadillac)

A fic by MsHydeStylinson on AO3 | @mizzhydes on Tumblr | MsHydeStylinson on Twitter

33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Did you like them?” Louis asked in a seductive tone, propping his elbow against the armrest, chin resting against his fingers.

“I’m not going to answer that,” Harry informed, lips pressed in a hard line.

“I don’t think you have to,” Louis smirked nodding slightly towards his telltale bulge and watched as Harry reddened from his neck to his forehead in a flash.

”Please, I beg you to put that phone away,” Harry pleaded with a suffering expression plastered on his face.

“Please…” Harry whined.

Or,

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds.  A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis.

Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret

A fic by lovelykits on AO3 | @lovelykits on Tumblr

16k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I got asked out today,” Louis comments.

“Okay,” Harry shifts.

“Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.”

"You always get asked out.”

“Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”

Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.

A Place With Skeletons

A fic by whoknows on AO3 | @crazyupsetter on Tumblr

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here.

Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”

Pretty and Pink

A fic by LarryInPanties on AO3 | @larryinpantiess on Tumblr | babielouu on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis points a finger at the man’s pec, “I’ll have you know Harry, anyone would be lucky to have me as a hitchhiker buddy. I’m nice, I don’t take up too much space, and I’m pretty.”

He’s not lying.

“Let me get this straight,” Harry gives Louis a look when he lets out a tiny laugh. “Ya’ want to take a ride with me but you don’t even know where ya’ wanna go yet?”

-

Harry never lets anyone come on the road with him.

Then, a cute hitchhiker, Louis comes around.

Cold As Ice And Everything Nice

A fic by harriblou on AO3 | @harriblou on Tumblr | harriblou on Twitter

40k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

A young boy about Harry’s age was zoomed into the camera, blushing a bright red and breathing heavily and as he bowed. The crowd was cheering for him loudly and every movement he made was bashful and flustered. He had on a very nice skate dress that was purple. His name, hometown, skate scores, and all sorts of information was in a banner on the bottom half of the screen. He was really young, especially compared to all the other competitors, which was the second thing he noticed.

The first was that the boy was easily the prettiest in the entire world, the prettiest boy Harry’s ever seen. He felt his asthma squeeze his throat and his heart beat faster and his hands get a little more clammy.

or in which Louis is a professional ice-skater and he meets Harry, who offers to clean the ice for him.

You'll wait for me only.

A fic by signofthetmies on AO3 | @tired-eyes-lou on Tumblr

9k | Teen & Up | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry nips at the bondmark on Louis’ neck, Louis’ hands go to his hips, grounding him. He allows himself this, knowing that his Omega needs it too. Harry pulls back, “Go on a date with me.” He rushes out, looking at Louis’ eyes.

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “No, Louis, I’m serious. We’ve bonded for life anyway, might as well try.” Louis looks at him, “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.” Louis points out, Harry nods. “Okay.” Louis says and walks out leaving Harry. “Okay what?!”

_______________________

Prompt 15: Omega Louis is a lawyer that worked on omega rights cases. Alpha Harry is a corporate lawyer. Louis and Harry used to be childhood archenemies, until Louis moved to another school and they never saw each other again. Now, they’re both adults that happen to work in the same place. They behave like children and still share a mutual dislike. Both travel to work together for a case. One night they both bond accidentally. Slowly but surely, they fall in love. Enemies to lovers!

through the wheatfields and the coastlines

A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter

53k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through.

“I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.”

Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart

A fic by louloubaby92 on AO3 | @louloubabys1992 on Tumblr

18k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with.

Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada.

Yeah...

This Glass House

A fic by BabyPowderLou on AO3 | @compactblue on Tumblr | princessbluelou on Twitter

42k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.

singing your praises

A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

made for lovin' you

A fic by cuddlerlouis on AO3 | @cuddlerlouis on Tumblr | burntromances on Twitter

52k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right.

“For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure.

“Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something.

“I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.”

“Noted.”

So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat.

Splendid.

-

Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

Stuck On You

A fic by WritewhatIwant on AO3

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

On the Edge

A fic by zanni_scaramouche on AO3 | @zanniscaramouche on Tumblr

47k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

Be a Good Girl For Me

A fic by wannabebestseller on AO3 | @sincetheywere16and18 on Tumblr

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Based on this prompt: “AU where Harry is Louis’ older brother’s best friend. He catches Louis dancing around his room in panties and blackmails him, saying that Louis has to do anything he says or else he’ll tell Louis’ family that he wears girly underwear. Secretly soft for him, Harry gives him easy tasks and uses the whole thing to spend more time with Louis. Eventually, the orders begin to escalate and Harry teases Lou about his secret, making Louis shy and embarrassed. Louis loves the attention though, and forms a crush on his brother’s best friend. Lots of feminization, secret relationship, and enemies to lovers. Thank you!”

dripping like spider milk

A fic by raspberryoats on AO3 | @raspberryoatss on Tumblr | raspberryoatss on Twitter

64k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When he sees the alpha, his brown hair curling around the top of his neck and his broad back that’s filled out over the past couple of years, Louis freezes for a moment. The alpha turns around, Louis’ surprised expression mirrored on his own for a fraction of a second before he schools it into a big, yet shy grin and a wave of his huge hand. With his nostrils flared, Louis knows that he can smell him, too.

They never hired alphas, except for—

“Harry.”

or prompt 110: Louis is a retired porn star and he gets invited back to test a new line of sex products the company he worked for is releasing (would include photoshoots and videos of Louis sampling certain toys). Harry is there to photograph, film, and intimately help him along the way (preferably in a private setting).

But It's Useless

A fic by thinlines on AO3 | @thinlinez on Tumblr

26k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Hey.”

Louis was even hallucinating now. He closed his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He chuckled wetly, head still leaning against the door.

“Can you get out of the way? You're blocking the door.”

He exhaled sharply before slowly turning around. His eyes fixed onto muddy Nike trainers before it traveled up to impossibly short jogging shorts. The yellow color was atrocious, simply ghastly.

“What happened to being polite, Harold?”

OR Omega Louis would never guess that he would be trying to hack into Alpha Harry's Wifi. That is until everything changes when he tries to get to know his enemy.

Yours To Lose

A fic by loulicate on AO3 | loulicaterecs on Twitter

26k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I think I know the person that matches your descriptions of your dream alpha.”

“Who? And oh not my dream alpha, god you’re making me sound like a teenage school girl. I’m a mum, H.” They laugh as they watch kids gather in front of the verandah, getting ready to go back to the orphanage.

“Well, you’re gonna have to find out.” Harry winks before standing up to start cleaning their spot.

-

Or Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.

Sweet Scary Creatures

A fic by Specklesock on AO3 | @specklelouis on Tumblr | specklelouiie on Twitter

13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

They stare into each other's eyes for a while until Louis remembers this is too intimate and looks at Harry’s hands on his thigh. It spans a big portion of his thigh and Louis has always been insecure about how thick he is, so he loves that Harry has huge, dustbin hands that hold him and makes him feel smaller, safer.

We Are But Dust and Shadows

A fic by louisbarnes on AO3 | @tomlinsonbarnes on Tumblr | dreamersdiving on Twitter

51k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Um, okay. I’m going to…” Harry gestured over his shoulder and gave the two of them an awkward smile.

“Wait! You got a letter.” Zayn held out the letter and Harry’s face dropped. He took the letter from Zayn, gaze locked on it like it was a bomb ready to explode. “What is it?”

“Probably just from the New York Institute,” Harry muttered. He hurried away, ripping the envelope open as he went.

“Remember when you said you didn’t want to fuck him?” Zayn broke the silence and Louis scoffed.

“Quite clearly, actually.”

Zayn grinned. “Your eye twitches when you lie.”

“Fuck off.”

Or: Louis is part of a well respected Shadowhunter family, and Harry is the Mundane turned Shadowhunter who just can’t seem to get it right.

it's hard to fight naked

A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @loustarlight on Tumblr | IwtstarIight on Twitter

11k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!

or where Louis leaves dirty socks on the couch, Zayn does assignments while he's high, and Harry is hopelessly crushing on his roommate.

social cues

A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | outropetals on Twitter

56k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

hereafter

A fic by larryent on AO3 | @larryent on Tumblr | oflarryent on Twitter

13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"A legacy is every life you’ve touched. And you’ve touched mine twice."

On the coast of San Franciso in 2024 is when Harry falls in love all over again.

OR

“This thing upon me is not death but it’s as real, .... this thing upon me like a flower a feast, believe me is not death and is not glory.” — Charles Bukowski, old man, dead in a room

smoke between your teeth

A fic by soldouthaz on AO3 | @soldouthaz on Tumblr | soldouthaz on Twitter

37k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Alright, fine. What is it, then?" Louis asks. "Give me the best you’ve got. What’s this big reason why I smoke?"

Harry’s head lolls backward on the back of the sofa, a dopey grin on his face even though his eyes are already halfway closed - that look he gives Louis when he’s about to spout some incoherent bout of psychological bullshit.

“Oral fixation,” Harry mutters as delightfully as he can muster, his tone suggesting that it should be obvious.

--

Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.

calm me down (before i sleep)

A fic by leeanndarling on AO3 | @erodiansunflower on Tumblr | leeann_darling on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 24: Harry is a sex shop owner that has a crush on Louis, the shy customer who flirts with him while buying cute buttplugs, lace panties, and collars. One day, Louis asked Harry to help him put on a corset (they end up fucking in the dressing room). Things escalate quickly from there, so they start seeing each other seriously while trying other sex stuff.

This World’s Ashes

A fic by sunshineandthemoonlight on AO3 | @sunshineandthemoonlight on Tumblr

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The man stares at him, and all Harry can hear is his own heartbeat, racing.

Then the stranger turns away. He walks a few paces and bends down, picking up a large knife from the ground and shoving it into a pouch attached to his belt.

“I won’t hurt you, you know.”

Harry’s eyes snap up to the man’s face. He’s looking at Harry sincerely, palms held up as though in surrender. There’s still a knife in his right hand, though, so Harry is only slightly reassured.

Harry swallows to combat the dryness of his throat, and then says, “I won’t hurt you either.”

A post-apocalypse AU where Harry, battling his past as he survives in the woods, has learnt not to trust anyone except his dog. Then Louis crashes into his life, with his bright spirit and soft lips, pulling Harry from the depths of a loneliness he hadn’t realised he was drowning in. But there is danger lurking, and Harry’s not the only one wrestling with his past.

A Springtime's Wilt, an Autumn's Bloom

A fic by snowcaplou on AO3 | snowcaplou on Twitter

20k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“What about you Harry? Maybe you should apply for the position,” she teases.

“Oi! You better not be trying to get rid of my best driver-- I can’t go looking for a replacement, I’m too busy!” Louis says with a playful slap to Savannah’s shoulder. It's jestful, like the rest of their conversation, but there is a possessive bite to his words-- my best driver-- the words bounce through Harry’s ears until he can just hear the words my and mine. It falls deaf on Savannah’s beta senses, but for a minute Harry thinks he can sense the same words zooming through Louis’ thoughts.

My, mine.

My alpha.

And woah, Harry’s taking it too far. At least, he thinks he’s taking it too far, but when he looks back up from his plate, Louis’ eyes are heavy on his, and for a fleeting second, Harry can pretend he heard Louis say it.

OR

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

Starlight’s Crossing

A fic by smittenwithlouis on AO3 | @smittenwithlouis on Tumblr | smittenwlouis on Twitter

30k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He can picture it so clearly, as he holds onto Louis’ sleeping body. How they’d go exploring every inch of the galaxy without a care in the world. He builds a fairytale future in his mind, one that includes marriage, kids, and growing old together. Even after such a short time together, Harry knows that he’d say yes to anything and everything this man ever asked for. He’d follow him to the ends of the galaxy if that’s what Louis wanted.

And that thought terrifies Harry.

Or: All it takes is one night for Harry and Louis' life to change forever. Fast-forward four years, and they embark on an adventure of a lifetime across the universe.

Floating

A fic by littleLouve on AO3 | @larents on Tumblr | louvees on Twitter

10k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.

don't want no other shade of blue

A fic by padfootyoudog on AO3 | @louisisworthit on Tumblr

43k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

—

prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

Loving You's the Antidote

A fic by neverheartbroken on AO3 | @neverheartbroken on Tumblr

5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending. (Prompt Inspiration: Prompt 98 from the 2019 BLFF)

dirty laundry looks good on you

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love.

no good unless it's real

A fic by fackinglouis on AO3 | @fackinglouis on Tumblr

17k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Here,” Harry says, pulling a strap off his shoulder so he can dig his phone out of his bag. “We can get each other’s numbers.”

 Louis shakes his head. “I have the practice’s number already,” he tells him. “And my number is definitely on file somewhere.”

Harry pauses, smile quirking a bit as he stares at Louis. The sun is still in his eyes, though, with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head still, so Louis credits his funny face to that.

“I’m trying to give you my number, Louis,” Harry explains around a breathy laugh.

“Oh,” Louis blinks, processing that. He scratches his temple, moves a piece of longer fringe back behind his ear, and then nods. “Okay.”

Or: Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

Since the Future

A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @loustarlight on Tumblr | IwtstarIight on Twitter

49k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"It's done."

The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.

To Love without Reason

A fic by MuggleMirror on AO3 | @mugglemirror on Tumblr | mugglemirror on Twitter

8k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

Sedative Duty.

A fic by daddyharrie on AO3 | @daddyharrie on Tumblr | daddyharrie on Twitter

46k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press,  Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

You and I 'till the day we die

A fic by Allmylovelarrie on AO3 | flightlesslarri on Twitter

10k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del  Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend  who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in  the 80s)

Give So Much (Not Enough)

A fic by skinsuk on AO3 | @wifeylouis on Tumblr

24k | Mature | Louis/Harry, Louis/Alex, Harry/Tess | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of  Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”  

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the  push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his  lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of  mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a  very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out  loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still  sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook  him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap  and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact  with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

New York's Beauty

A fic by nocontrol_lou on AO3 | @saxophone17 on Tumblr | nocontrol_louis on Twitter

5k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and  Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing  about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen  table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and  extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he  would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love. Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so Harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.

feeling borrowed, always blue

A fic by falsegoodnight on AO3 | @falsegoodnight on Tumblr | falsegoodnight on Twitter

67k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’ own heartbeat picks up, eyes widening right as  Dr. Zoyansky hits a button and the unsteady pattern of thumps echoes  into the room. His breathing hitches, eyes watering as the rhythm seeps  into his insides and reverberates in his mind. A heartbeat.

He doesn’t register the tears at first, eyes fixed to the screen and vision blurring.

The  situation seems insane. Here he is, twenty-four years old, sitting in  the examination chair and listening to the heartbeat of his future  child, clutching the worn material of his changing gown with pale  fingers, one of which is weighed down by a gaudy engagement ring.

And  most noticeably - he’s entirely alone. It’s just him in the room with  his doctor, experiencing one of the most groundbreaking, life-changing moments of his entire life and he’s all alone.

-

Or, Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected that it was going to happen like this.

Hamartia

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr

66k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Eight years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart  back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry  Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world  like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never  see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for  him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to struggle the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't  take long for both of them to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the  only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first  place.

moonlit sky over gentle waters

A fic by stardustx on AO3 | stardxstlwt on Twitter

11k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"The King of the Pirates! Captain Harry Styles! The one  who conquered the seven seas!" Louis boasts, sarcasm drips from his  tone, mocking him.

The bar is clean, but he still scrubs just as  fervently, his brows furrows and a small pout forms on those pink lips  Harry desperately wants to kiss. He looks down, dubiously, at the  address in his hand.

“Every lass and lad dreams of bedding a  pirate like you.” Louis huffs, gazes up at him with a despondant look  that reminds him of a grumpy kitten.

Silence fills the space as Harry mulls over his words. He finally looks up at Louis, blinking slowly. “Do they really?”

"You're an idiot."

-

OR Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone  — that he isn't sure he can have.

Short and Sweet

A fic by 5ft9 on AO3 | cinnamouroll on Twitter

29k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of  male omegas.  He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered  upbringing,  fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's  immediately smitten  by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad  shoulders, and the  addictive coffee scent.

under thorn and bramble

A fic by thedeathchamber on AO3 | @louehvolution on Tumblr

32k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a  servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel  to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious  stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis  doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.

Late night devil put your hands on me (and never, never, never ever let go)

A fic by summerandsunshine on AO3 | sunshine_Iou on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when Louis catches feelings the devil, Harry promises to come back to earth once and for all.

No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine

A fic by alltheselights on AO3 | @alltheselights on Tumblr | alltheselightts on Twitter

45k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’ feet pound on the pavement as he runs, and the echo reverberates through the alley behind him. He drops the gun near a trash bin as he passes, his gloved fingers ensuring that it will never be traced back to him.

He’s panting, his thighs ache, and there’s a cramp forming beneath his ribs on the right side, but all of that is nothing compared to the exhaustion clouding his brain.  

I can’t do this anymore, Louis thinks.

Or: Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

Joker Is Wild

A fic by Typosmyown on AO3 | @palosquared on Tumblr

19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry, Louis/Various | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.

The Pirate and The Piper

A fic by jacaranda_bloom on AO3 | @jacaranda-bloom on Tumblr | jacaranda_bloom on Twitter

38k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Banished from Neverland by Captain Hook and the evil Siren Minerva, Louis is forced to live in the Other World. He makes a life for himself, resigned to the fact he’s never going to see his beloved home and Lost Boys again. Five years later he’s kidnapped and returned to Neverland, only to discover a far worse fate awaits him. But with an unlikely ally by his side, can he overcome those who seek his demise and restore freedom to his homeland?

Or the one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

Coeur de Pirate

A fic by louizsv on AO3 | @ashleyjohnsonfanaccount on Tumblr | piccadillyplum on Twitter

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry, Louis/OMC, Louis/Harry/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

if you're feeling lonely

A fic by ifthat on AO3 | @lovehl on Tumblr | omegalouis on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down when a familiar name catches his breath.

Harry Styles.

All he has to do is verify whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent beckoned him closer.

it's a game we play in the sheets

A fic by loubabyworship on AO3 | @strawbabyloucake on Tumblr | pillouprincess on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”

Mind Over Matter (You Under Me)

A fic by youreyesonlarry on AO3 | @youreyesonlarry on Tumblr | youreyesonlarry on Twitter

73k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.

--------

Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire.

--

View the 2020 BLFF collection here.

View the 2019 BLFF collection here.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Welcomed Distraction

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: Mentions of plotting murder but nothing else?

Author’s note: Welcome to fluff week! And here is how we're gonna start the week off. With a very Anti-Valentines day fic. What other way is there to start this holiday? XD I swear this is the only anti vday fic I have for this week. It is kinda Vday centered, so it's not like ya'll are missing out. Plus I needed this scenario. And I could only picture Damon for this so, here you go!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things

Flires covered the halls with posters for the dance this weekend. The Bitter Ball was meant for all of those that were heartbroken could get together and express how much they hated Valentine's Day. Of course those that celebrated were going to be out on their dates, spending their time with their loved ones.

Y/N wouldn’t be going out on a fancy date. Nor would she be spending her time at the Bitter Ball. It wasn’t like she had recently experienced heartbreak that would make her want to attend the dance. She was just single.

She had tried proving several times that there was nothing wrong with it. But of course her friends had tried setting her up with someone days before, but it didn’t end up working out. And Y/N actually preferred that. Why spend the money to show off how much you love someone on one specific day.

This way she could stay home for the night. It meant she could stay in her pajamas and binge watch whatever was on Netflix that caught her interest. There was no need to get dressed up for anyone and that was how she wanted it. All that was needed was an assortment of junk food and a drink of her choice.

And it was as Y/N was getting ready to plop into her bed and begin watching a serial killer documentary when there was a knock at her door. For a brief moment, she thought of just ignoring it and climbing into bed. But the other part of her believed that if it was anyone had to come find her, it must have been important and left her room to go answer the door.

Her eyebrow raised as she took in Damon Salvatore standing on the opposite side. She could see he had obviously been dressed for the Bitter Ball. The all black outfit had given that away seeing as it was a requirement for it.

“You know, when I was told everyone was heading to the Bitter Ball, I was surprised not to see you there.” Damon said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m not bitter.” Y/N said as she took a step back to allow him to enter her home. “I’m single. There’s a difference.”

“I doubt everyone that’s there isn’t exactly bitter.” He said as he walked in.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “Caroline is bitter.” She noted. “You on the other hand, I can't exactly figure out why you’d want to go to the anti-valentines day ball.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “A bitter heart tends to lead to nights of very entertaining activities.” A smirk pulled at his lips, causing her to roll her eyes. “I mostly went because I thought my partner in crime would be there to be miserable with me. But she wasn’t there and when I found her, she’s ready to veg out without so much as giving me an invite.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I never took you for wanting to stay in and just eat junk food while watching serial killer documentaries.”

“Not with just anyone.” He said with a shrug. “But with you, I’d do it.”

Y/N eyed him a moment. For as long as she had known the man standing in front of her, she had never just been content to just sit there and watch documentaries. After a few seconds she nodded her head. “100 says you’ll get bored and start complaining about some of the cases.”

Damon laughed and shook his head. “That’s a bet I’ll take and even win.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” She said with a shake of her head as she began making her way back towards her room with him in tow.

As they both had settled into Y/N’s bed, Damon had every intention of winning the bet. If it meant he could spend some time with Y/N, he was going to do so. At least that was until they got some details wrong about a case that he had personally had a part in and that seemed to irk him.

A smirk had pulled at Y/N’s lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. She could see the way his face either scrunched up in disbelief at the facts that had been pouring out of the narrator. Or even the way he sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. It was in complete contrast to how laidback and comfortable Y/N had been.

“Just admit it, you’re ready to complain.” Y/N said as she never took her eyes off the tv.

Damon shook his head. “Never. Just really getting into this amazing documentary with all the wrong facts.”

Y/N laughed and stuck out her hand towards him. “That was a complaint. And I’ll take my money now.”

“That was not a complaint.” He said shaking his head as he looked over at her. “That was merely an observation.”

“An observation, my ass.” She chuckled. “That was a complaint on how they have the wrong information.”

“One would say that’s an observation that they gave credit to a serial killer, when in fact it was a Vampire.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What other observations do you have to voice?” She asked with a raised brow knowing she was about to win the bet.

“For one, they managed to say this guy had over 50 victims when, let’s be honest is more like 10 and was given credit for some that were not in fact his.” Damon continued on with every ‘observation’ he noticed during the first hour of what they’ve seen.

It was as Y/N rolled over on her stomach and propped her head on her fist, and a small smirk pulled at her lips that Damon realized he had gone into a full blown tangent on just how wrong the documentary had been. He had stopped mid sentence and took in her position and shook his head.

“Fine, you win.” He said with a roll of his eyes.

She began laughing away at his reaction and her laughter grew at seeing the slightest pout form on his lips. Damon was the one that usually won bets against a lot of people. But when it came to Y/N, she somehow won them. Even when her odds were against her.

The group used to say that was her supernatural ability. To be able to make bets go in her favor. But Y/N was as ordinary as they came. She wasn’t a relative of anyone special, she wasn’t descended from any kind of witch coven or royalty. She was as human as they came and she preferred that.

The moment the laughter died down, Damon watched her for a moment. “Want to talk about it?” He asked, keeping his attention on her.

His words hadn’t caught her off guard. She had been expecting them from the moment he had shown up at her door. But even then, her face fell and she looked away from him as she thought about it.

She may not have been bitter, but Y/N had gone through a bad heartbreak almost a year ago. One that left her broken in a way she’d never believed she would ever feel. That had been before she met the Salvatores and found out about the world she now lived in. While her friends had known about it, they always tried to get her back on the horse. But she never had been ready to do it.

“I don’t think I am.” She said with a shake of her head. “One day I’ll be able to talk about it without reliving it.” Even as she spoke of it now, she felt an emotion bubbling within her. “That time is just not right now.”

Damon laid back on the bed so that he was leveled with her. “You know I could always make him some serial killer’s next victim.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “I think that would complete your previous offers of compelling, eating him and ripping his heart out.”

He smirked. “Just say the word, point me in the right direction and it’s done. No questions asked.”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t done it already.” Knowing her friends, she was expecting it. Especially with the way everyone went behind each other’s backs from time to time to make sure they were safe.

“Oh, we’ve been tempted.” He said with a nod. “Okay, mostly me, but that’s because I'm impulsive and usually don’t care what other people say.”

“What stopped you this time?” She asked, curious. As Damon had said, he did things without thinking. And the fact that he had thought about doing so from time to time and not actually doing it had surprised Y/N.

“Because, believe it or not, while I’m impulsive and do things behind the backs of the people I care about, I don’t think I’d be able to handle your reaction afterwards.” He nodded his head. “I can handle everyone else being angry with me, or even hating me for a period of time, but I don’t think I could handle it coming from you.”

Y/n nodded her head as she took in his words. “I don’t think I could hate you, Damon. You could go out there and kill him tonight without me knowing and I still wouldn’t hate you for it. I’d probably thank you in the morning once I found out.”

“Well,” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone be okay with murder.”

She chuckled as she pointed towards the still playing documentary. “It would be interesting to see what details they’d get wrong when you’re the culprit.”

While she may have been only slightly joking, the whole conversation had distracted her from the hurt that she had been secretly hiding from the others. Planning out a revenge with a vampire was the last thing she had been expecting to do tonight. But the way it happened showed she was getting better.

Because creating a hypothetical murder scene with a vampire is just the next step of the healing process.

Always and Forever Tags:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @mrs-jackson-kenner @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy @theactressstaringinyourbaddream @maldita-world @nikmikaelsonswife @mikaelson-emma @elijahs-wife @moon-child-writer @xoxo-nikki-xoxo @njeancastro316

[jessebeaufort]

꧁ ( hugh dancy. cis man. he/his. violence & grimes. ) have you seen jesse beaufort strolling around central park at lunchtime? rumor has it they’re actually 250 years old, but i’m pretty sure they’re only 38. they’re currently posing as a horror novelist at esperantos, but when dusk falls, you can usually find them heading home to manhattan by private car. apparently they did not attend the met gala this season! @duskintros​

name: jesse beaufort. age: 250, appears 38. date of birth: january 13. species: dhampir vampire. occupation: horror novelist - successful. sexuality: heteromantic heterosexual. hair color: dirty blond / light brown. eye color: hazel. height: 5′9 ½ ″. build: athletic, more muscle to his build but still considered thin.

small bits.

the second oldest of the beaufort family, jesse suffered many of the trials and tribulations that his other siblings did: namely that the family was incredibly poor. 

always more withdrawn and prickly, to put it politely, jesse preferred the company of himself, and if he had to choose who to spend time with in his youth, it was his siblings over his parents or other people in general.

like most members of the beaufort clan, he went through a robin hood phase in his youth ---stealing from the rich in his family’s town and redistributing it to those less fortunate, including the beaufort family themselves. he was less inclined to do it because he cared and more because it was thrilling.

he was one of the first siblings - if not the first, to break off from massachusetts. jesse left only a note and went twisting into the wind to experience the world for himself - not beholden by family obligations or names, to discover who he wanted to be outside of the picture painted for him.

connections came slowly, but they came. through his many years jesse picked up many skills and crafts and posed as one person or another to acquire knowledge and information. never one to linger long, less for fear of being discovered and more due to lack of interest.

in the 1930′s he gave into baser instincts and went on an incredibly brief killing spree. the kills were in the paper for the two weeks they happened, and jesse managed to rack up a number those of lesser intelligence might consider impressive.

he never told ANYONE about his spree, not siblings, not friends, not lovers, not even his sole fledgling.

but he fell in love with one thing in that brief time ---the thrill of fear. it enamored him, enthralled him, and he began putting together the basis for a psychological horror that took many years to come into fruition.

in the 1990′s he finally published his works ---success built over the initial three novels, inspired by his time hunting his unfortunate victims. a tale that crawls up the spine and lingers in the back memory for some time after the final page had been read. jesse’s magnum opus and claim to fame.

he has no opinion or care for the supernatural war, nor the plight of humans or other species. for the most part jesse is wholly detached from it all ---he’s only thankful it’s not his obligation to hold a position on the council, and that leilana is the eldest to do so.

his return to new york, as he’s visited many times before, has been mainly to check in on his siblings ... but also for a current book tour. he does not intend on staying.

possible connections.

the editor: someone who is rather close with jesse, more due to work obligation than not. he tolerates them well-enough, they even share a drink or two during long nights. they have a good idea of the characters, the story jesse has weaved ... and perhaps they’re interested what his inspiration is. but he’ll never tell, he’ll just keep making them both money. open to any species. 0/1.

blood donors: he finds no satisfaction in hunting for blood. in fact, the collection thereof is a business, and jesse’s accumulated mass wealth in his lifetime. he pays these people quite a bit of money to donate their blood under certain circumstance (in front of him, he supplies the medical equipment for extraction, always very discreet). jesse simply asks for your quiet and cooperation on the matter and you will be well compensated. open to any species. 1/3, anna hyde.

lovers: former, current. jesse is not emotionally attached to anyone but occasionally has the physical itch. whether he’s established a habit with these people or it’s something new, it’s pointedly clear he’s only interested in stress relief. his attraction is more toward women who can handle themselves, he’s less inclined to find appeal in the softer in demeanor. open to any species. 0/3.

close friends: somehow he managed to nab a few people who are considered friends ... but he won’t say it out loud. either like minds or like in intention, jesse keeps the company of these two separately or together. they know him well, they just don’t know everything about him. open to any species. 0/2.

the fledgling: will likely become a wc on the main. the one person who touched jesse in a manner that echoed through his life. he cares for them like a child, found a similarity in them that no other person in the world bears to him. in a moment of weakness he reached out to them and changed them, intending on binding their lives in a way that would keep the connection alive. they are his only child, though not born naturally. he loves them, though he’d be loath to admit it aloud, and he lets them be free in their experiences. outside of his birth siblings, this is the only person he would die for, or kill for, outside of himself. ( think abigail hobbs to will graham in hannibal ). 0/1.

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 1

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood

It was a warm night, and I was wearing my favorite summer dress, seated on a velvet couch, in an old house.

“Well, miss Sunday. Thank you very much for coming all the way out here to speak to me. I’ll go over your resumé one more time, but I think I’ve heard all I need”. The dark-haired, pale man gave me a friendly smile. I knew better than to reach out my hand for him to shake, and simply got up to stand, and nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr. Compton”, I smiled. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you need… So, interview over?”. “Interview’s over”, he said. “Good! Calling you Mr. Compton was getting weird!”, I laughed. “Well, you did insist”. “It was a job-interview. It was only proper”, I shrugged.

Bill Compton walked me to his front door, and I was about to say goodbye, when he halted, just before going for the doorknob. “There is one thing, I wanted to ask you; and seeing as you’ve been so forthcoming with me, on everything else…”. The vampire narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”, I said. “Why did you decide to apply for the position as my day-person?”, he asked. I smiled embarrassedly. “Honestly… I need the money”, I said. “I’ve been hoping to pay down my student loan, but taking up extra shifts down at Merlotte’s just isn’t cutting it”.

“That’s not what I meant”, he said. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person to take a job for a vampire”. He raised an intrigued brow at me. “Not enough fang marks on me?”, I chuckled. The vampire chuckled, and it seemed that if he’d been able to blush, he would have. “You’re offering a good salary for what seems like an easy job; and one that I can do while still staying on with Sam. The fact that you’re a vampire doesn’t really matter to me”. “Why not?”, he asked. “Why should it?”, I retorted. “Some might say it’s dangerous to work for one of us”, the vampire said. “You’re no more likely to hurt me than any other vampire around – or human for that matter”, I said. “Besides; Sookie speaks highly of you, and I trust her”. “Well, she speaks highly of you as well”, he said.

He seemed to think for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “If you want this job, it’s yours”, he said. My jaw dropped. “Really?”, I asked. The vampire confirmed it with a nod. “Thank you, Bill. You won’t regret it…! One thing, though… Day-person? Can’t we call it… secretary? Or assistant?”. He chuckled warmly as he opened the door for me to leave. “Please come by tomorrow. I’ll have a list for you with some things I need handled”, Bill said, as I went down the steps of the porch. “8 pm?”, I asked. “That sounds perfect”, Bill said. “See you then”. He handed me back the “resumé”, which I’d written on the back of a paper placemat from Merlotte’s. As I took it, I got a slight papercut on my finger. “Shit”, I muttered. Bill smiled slightly. “Would you like me to fetch you a band-aid?”. “Nah…”, I said, and looked at the trickle of blood. “You hungry?”, I teased. “I think Sookie might have a problem with me feeding from a friend”. “Alright”, I shrugged.

I began fishing my car keys out of my bag, and cursed to myself, as they fell from my hand, and landed in the gravel on the ground. I was about to crouch to pick them up; when I felt a gush of wind, and suddenly stood nose to chest with a very tall man. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright blue, and had a sharpness to them. “Hello”, he said, a cheery mischievous tone to his voice. “Hi”, I said, and went to pick up my keys again. The man – vampire, I realized – held them out to me, before I even so much as bent over. “Fuck, you’re fast”, I gasped. He put the keys in my outstretched hand, and grabbed my wrist, to look at my bleeding finger. “When I want to be”, he smiled. “Bill, who is this? Introduce us”.

Bill stepped of his porch, and walked warily towards us. “Eric Northman… This is Liv Sunday”. I found it hard to break eye contact with the tall vampire, mostly because he was one of the most handsome people I’d ever met. “Liv”, Eric said. He dragged out the sound of my name, pronouncing it Leev. “Yours…? She smells… pure”. I managed to look away, and turned my gaze to Bills face instead. His jaw was clenched. “My assistant”, Bill repeated, put a hand on my arm, and went to stand half way in front of me. The tall vampire let go of my wrist. “Off limits”. “I’m a big girl, Bill", I said. “I can speak for myself". “Yes, she’s a big girl, Bill", Eric smiled. “Let her speak for herself". I frowned at the tall vampire, and shook my head. “That means you too, Vlad", I said. A grin ghosted his face.

Eric leaned his head forwards, and burrowed his eyes even deeper into mine. “Liv… You’re interesting”, he said. “Please. Tell me more about you”. “Eric!”, Bill growled. “Why have you come?”. “To discuss matters surrounding the conference. It is election year, after all”, the other vampire replied, never taking his eyes off mine. “Now stop interrupting my conversation with… Liv”. The vampire-testosterone was heavy in the air, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe some other time”, I said. “Oh come now…”, Eric smiled, his eyes digging even deeper. I frowned at him. “I said no!”, I sneered. The tall vampire seemed taken aback, and Bills eyes widened. “Ok… I’m just gonna go”, I said.

Bill followed me all the way over to my car, and held the door for me as I climbed in. I opened the window to let some air into the cabin. “Drive safely now”, Bill said. “See you at 8 tomorrow. I’ll give your regards to Sookie”. Eric smiled at me. “It was nice meeting you, Liv”, he said. “Until next time”. His intense gaze made heat pool in my lower stomach, and I had to consciously tell myself to put the key in the ignition.

I drove home to my one-bedroom rental feeling happy that I’d nailed my job interview; and stirred from meeting Eric. I supposed he always had that influence on people; Bill probably just turned his mojo down, because he had Sookie, and didn’t need to impress people in the same way. Bill was the second vampire I’d met that I’d actually spoken to, since they came out of the coffin. Eric was the third, so I didn’t have much to compare him too; but I read magazines as much as the next person.

When I got inside, I took a cold shower; trying to shake the meeting out of my system. Before I climbed into bed, I checked my messages, and saw that Sookie had sent me a text, congratulating me on my new side-gig with Bill. I sent her one back, thanking her for hooking me up with the interview.

Sookie had been a good friend every since I got to town. I’d been down on my luck since leaving San Diego; but Bon Temps had been good to me so far. I had a waitressing job at Merlotte’s, on top of the one I’d just gotten with Bill – taking care of the things he needed done during the daylight – and some good friends in Sookie and Bill; and even my other boss; Sam. I’d even go so far as calling Sookies brother, Jason, a friend – even if he did try getting me into bed with him, whenever he could. I think the fact that I was so fervent in my dismissal of him, made him have some weird kind of respect for me. I was happy – settled, even. The last thing I needed was some blonde hottie trying to get in my pants; it didn’t matter if his name was Jason Stackhouse – or Eric Northman for that matter.

---

I slept in the next day, as my meeting with Bill had been quite late – or should I say, early, as I’d not been home until 3 am. My shift at the bar was a slow one, which was good for Terry, who was having one of his bad days in the kitchen. All 6 hours dragged along in a manner so boring, it was a relief when 7 pm. came along, and Arlene came to take over from me.

Arriving back at the Compton house, I was met in the door by Sookie. “Hey, Liv! Come on in!”, she grinned. “Bill’s in the living room”. “Is it your night off, Sook’?”, I asked. “Uh huh”, she said. “Bill’s taking me to dinner”. We walked into the living room, where Bill was waiting, with a somber look on his face. “Liv… I would like to apologize for Erics behavior last night”, he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong”, I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with me”. “Eric Northman flirted with you?”, Sookie chuckled. “And you didn’t end up with your legs around his waist?”. I mock scoffed. “I am a lady”, I said. “I tend to throw them around a man’s neck first”. Sookie punched my shoulder. “Slut!”, she grinned.

Bill looked very seriously at the both of us. “This is no laughing matter, ladies. Eric glamoured you!”, he said. I shook my head in confusion. “He didn’t…”, I said. “I saw him… He was using his glamour on you”, Bill repeated fervently. “I really don’t think he did. At least I didn’t feel anything happening”, I tried again.  “Jeez… I worked for you for five minutes; and you’re already acting like my daddy”, I said.

The vampire looked confused, but Sookie broke the tension, by reminding him they had reservations. “You’re right, of course; sweetheart”, Bill said, and took a piece of paper from the coffee-table. “I made this list for you. On the top here is making an appointment with an electrician. I’ve been having some flickering lights in the kitchen. Of course, I don’t use it much, but I do want it working… Then there’s this case of TruBlood O-neg. The all-night supermarket won’t be getting another shipment for at least a week, and I can’t…”. “Honey? We’re late!”, Sookie sighed. “Where are you going?”, I asked. “A place in Shreveport. Ky-auntie”, Sookie smiled. “Chianti”, Bill said. “And you’re right. Let’s go”.

We all left the house, and walked to our respective cars, when I remembered something. “Hold up!”, I called out. I ripped some of the paper from the list, and quickly wrote down my phone number with an eyeliner from my purse. I ran over to Bill with it. “Here. You never got my number. Just in case anything else comes up”, I said. “Thank you”, Bill smiled. “Any big plans for you tonight?”, he asked. “I have a date with my neighbor’s cat. At least I think he belongs to my neighbor. He might be a stray… We eat tuna together on Thursdays”, I sighed. “I thought you were allergic to cats”, Sookie said from inside the BMW. “Our love is complex… and I take pills”, I said. “Go on now. Have fun”.

I waved them off, as they drove away; and got into my own car. It stalled a few times, before finally starting up, and I could drive home – just in time for my date with Mr. Whiskers. He was only mildly annoyed when I came out the back door 3 minutes late, with his bowl. “Sorry I’m late, honey”, I said. “I had a vampire to tend to”. The cat wailed at me, and attacked the tuna like it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

I lit a cigarette, and sat down on the steps, leaning against the screen door, reading a magazine. Some of my neighbors were having a party, and I enjoyed the music coming out of the window. It was a warm night, but not many mosquitos around. I was happy to be left alone from the little bloodsuckers, when my phone vibrated, and I found myself summoned by a large one. - Need you in Shreveport asap. Bill

I frowned at the phone. - I’m your day person. Nights are off limits.

- Fangtasia. Be there in an hour.

- Remind me to ask for a raise BOSS!, I replied; stomped out my smoke, and went back into the house to look up the address of whatever the hell Fangtasia was. Google let me know it was a vampire bar. Dinner must have been over quickly, and Bill had probably taken Sookie for a drink. I looked down at the attire I was currently wearing, and decided that if Bill insisted on being a jerk-boss, I’d be a jerk employee; and show up in cut off shorts, and ABBA t-shirt – that was fifty sizes to big, and hung off my shoulder – hopefully embarrassing him in front of his friends.

I cursed at Bill all the way to Shreveport. “Stupid vampire, ruining my date with Mr. Whiskers”, I muttered to myself, as I parked my rusty car next to a flashy convertible on the parking lot of the bar. There was a line down to the door, going all the way around the corner of the building. A blonde woman with a bored expression on her face stood at the entrance, turning away anyone she didn’t see fit for entry. I sent Bill a text, letting him know I was outside, and had no intention of waiting in line. He’d have to meet me in the lot.

I leaned against my car, kicking at a stray paper cup on the ground, when a cold finger poked my shoulder. I looked up into the face of the blonde woman. She was striking up close. “Liv Sunday?”, she said, sounding as bored as she looked. “Yeah?”, I said. She gave me an insincere smile. “Follow me…”.

She led me to the entrance of the bar, and a burly doorman lifted the red rope for us so we could walk inside. A song with heavy bass was leading some scantily clad dancers on podiums, and the air was heavy with cheap perfume and sexual frustration. The blonde led me to a table, and waved over a black clad waitress. “Order whatever you want on the house. Ginger will sort you out”, she said. The waitress smiled brightly at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m here to meet Bill”, I said confusedly. The woman rolled her eyes, and walked away. I would have given her the finger, if I wasn’t worried, she’d bite it off. “What can I get you?”, the waitress, Ginger, asked. “The most expensive thing you have that isn’t blood”, I sighed. “Long Island Ice Tea, coming right up!”, she grinned, and walked away; tugging at her tiny top as she did.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw I had a new text from a number I didn’t know. - Hello Liv. This is Bill Compton. I would like to extend my gratitude to you for accepting the position as my assistant. I’m writing this as Sookie is powdering her nose; as to not interrupt our evening together. Could I please ask you to add to the list, that I need to get in touch with a florist who knows where to get some sunflowers? Sookie likes them. Thank you very much.

I was deeply confused at this point, and not a little worried. If Bill hadn’t been the one to summon me to Fangtasia, then I was currently in a strange bar, surrounded by vampires, without a companion; just sitting around like a delicious crab leg on a buffet table. Sure, there were humans around, but they all seemed more focused on getting the attention of vampires, than helping me out, if needed be. I texted Sookie. - What’s Bills number? I think someone texted me, pretending to be him.

She responded quickly. - Who? Are you ok? Where are you?

I wrote back. - No idea. I’m in some place called Fangtasia.

I was still holding my phone, when Ginger returned with my drink, and set it down. She seemed about to say something to me; when suddenly she bowed reverently. “Master…”, she said, sounding like she was having a strange sort of orgasm.

I looked up, and saw that Eric Northman was standing by the table, with the blonde female vampire next to him. He gave me a slight smile, and sat down across from me; relaxing against the backrest of the chair. “Jag är inte din budbärare, bare för at du vil knulla en liten människa!”. The blonde seemed annoyed, but I didn’t understand her words. “Slapna av, Pam. Det här är annorlunda”, Eric said. “Fika på hende, då. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ask me again”, she snarled. ”Pamela!”, Eric said firmly. “Leave us”.

“What’s up her ass?”, I muttered. “Pam doesn’t take it up the ass; she gives it”, Eric said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You texted me…”, I said. “I did”, Eric said. “Go away, Ginger”. The waitress backed away, her eyes still on the floor. “Master. Yes, master”. I raised my brows. “Wow…”. I met Erics eyes hesitantly. “Why am I here?”. “Because I wanted to see you…”, he said. He dipped a finger into my drink, and licked it. “Don’t drink this. Someone put drugs in it”.

I swallowed hard – a sudden flashback striking me, taking me to a place I didn’t want to go. “Liv?”, Eric said. “What?”, I snapped. The vampire seemed taken aback. “You’re very brave”, he said. “I don’t know what you mean”, I muttered. “Speaking to me like that… and the text you sent me back, when you thought I was Bill. You obviously don’t know a lot about vampires”. I shrugged, trying my best to seem at ease with the conversation.

“How did you get my number?”, I asked; pushing the drink away gingerly. “I’m not listed”. “I flew over Bills house, as you wrote it down”, Eric said. “I have very good eyesight. You used a .01 Ultra Black eyeliner”. “That’s kind of creepy”, I said. “You’re a flying, creepy guy”. Eric laughed heartily, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “You’re funny”, he said. “It’s like you have no sense of self-preservation”. “Well, I figure you didn’t go through all the trouble of flying over Bills house to get my number; just so you could kill me”, I said. “At least… I hope you didn’t”. Eric looked towards the bar, at the tender behind it. “Chow, get her a fresh one. Make sure it’s drug free”, he said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. I realized the bartender must be a vampire as well; that was the only way he’d be able to hear him. “You don’t have to… I’m fine, really”. “It’s no trouble", Eric assured me. “This is my bar after all. It’s in my interest to keep the patrons happy". “I’m not a patron…”, I said.

Eric ignored my words. “Your t-shirt… I like it”, he said. “I’m related to the blonde, you know…”. “You’re Swedish?”, I asked. A fresh drink appeared in front of me, and I looked at it hesitantly. “It’s safe”, Eric said. “Yes, I’m originally from Sweden…”. “So, you were speaking… Swedish, before?”. Eric nodded. “You name, Liv; it’s actually the Swedish word for life”. “Huh…”, I muttered. “I always thought it was kind of geriatric”. Erics eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Quite the opposite… It suits you. You seem full of life”. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and took a sip from the straw. The drink was delicious. “And… when are you from? If you don’t mind me asking”. “Are you asking how old I am?”, Eric smiled. I blushed, and took a second sip. “I am a little over 1000 years old”.

I choked on my drink, and suddenly, Eric was next to me; gently patting my back with one hand, and holding mine with the other. “Are you alright?”, he said worriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine”, I croaked. I looked up into his eyes, and saw true concern. “Really”, I smiled. Eric sat back down on the chair opposite me; still holding on to my hand. His own was cool, but not cold. I guessed he’d recently fed.

I bit my lip. “Are you really 1000 years old?”, I asked in a whisper. “Yes”, Eric confirmed. “I was a Viking”. My eyes widened. “Like with the… pillaging, plundering and… raping?”, I said. Eric smiled smugly. “I didn’t need to rape to bed a woman; or a man for that matter”. “Huh…”, I said; and took a deep sip from my drink. “Well, you do have that tall, blonde and handsome thing going for you”. He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You find me handsome?”, he said. “Every person in this room finds you handsome”, I retorted; rolling my eyes. I looked towards a nearby table, where a young woman with obviously dyed black hair was starring at us. When her eyes darted towards me, she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

“Tell me about you…”, Eric said. “Why?”, I asked. “Because it’s only fair”, the viking-vampire said. “In the last ten minutes, I’ve told you my age, occupation, sexual orientation; and I’ve saved you from getting drugged". I was painfully aware that Eric probably had a million different ways of getting what he wanted from me, but for some strange reason, I didn’t think he’d use any of them. Not yet anyway. None the less, I still didn’t see his reason for wanting to know. “I meant, why are you asking?”, I said.

Eric played absentmindedly with my fingers – or maybe not so absentmindedly; as he seemed to know exactly where and how to stroke my fingers in a way, that sent signals straight to my core. "You’re interesting“, he said. “And Bill interrupted me before I could finish my glamour on you, to get you to tell me". I chuckled softly. “You didn’t glamour me", I said. “Of course I did", Eric retorted. “Sorry, but I think you have little too much faith in your own abilities“.

He let go of my hand, and sat back straight in his chair. For a long time, he didn’t speak, just starred at me, before his pupils suddenly dilated, and a tranquil and yet almost flirtatious expression spread over his face. “Liv…”, he said softly. “Tell me; what’s your favorite sexual position?”. My jaw dropped. “That’s absolutely none of your business!”, I growled. Eric looked completely confused, and even paler than his usual pasty shade. He furrowed his brows, and moved his head forwards; almost crouching in his chair, as to reach my eye-level. “You want to tell me, Liv", he said, his voice alluring. Abso-fucking-lutely I wanted to tell him; but not under our current circumstances. As it was, Eric was being completely inappropriate, and I had no intention of continuing our conversation. I stood up. “Thanks for the drink. Now, if you don’t mind, please go to hell".

I walked towards the door, and made it halfway through the crowd, when suddenly, Eric was standing in front of me. He looked almost enraged, and towered over me menacingly; starring into my eyes so hard, I could almost feel it physically. “Liv. You want to tell me about yourself", he boomed. “I want to go home!”, I hissed, trying to pass the imposing vampire. He moved slightly, making me have to brush against his chest with my shoulder. Eric’s hand was suddenly on my upper arm. I froze in place, as he lifted my hair slightly, breathing in my scent. “What are you?”, he asked in a low voice, his cool breath sending annoyingly pleasurable shivers down my spine. I looked up into his eyes again; and jumped a bit, when his fangs popped out. The deepest, darkest part of me wanted to put my finger to one of them, and see how sharp they were.

“Eric!”, Bills voice boomed over the music. Sookie came out from behind him, walked straight up to the 6’4 inches vampire, and hit him over the shoulder with her purse. “Looks like that’s two dates you’ve ruined tonight”, I said. Eric smiled. “But ours was going so well”, he said; his fangs retracting again. “This wasn’t a date…”, I said. “This was you tricking me into meeting you”, I hissed. “You had another date tonight?”, he asked, darkness ghosting his face. I gave him a sarcastic smile, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, stomping out of the club, past Pam. She looked amused at the situation, and stepped back to let me get to the parking lot.

With shaking hands, I opened my car door. Bill and Sookie weren’t far behind me. “I am very sorry, Liv”, Bill said. “Had I known there was a chance Eric would…”. “Forget it, Bill”, I said. “I’ll take care of the things on your list tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home… I’m sorry I ruined your date”. “It’s not your fault”, Sookie said earnestly. “Do you want us to follow you home in Bills car?”. “No, I’ll be fine… Just, go salvage whatever you can of your night”, I said. I gave Sookie a half hug, and nodded at Bill.

Eric was staring at my car, as I drove away. I saw him exchanging a few words with Pam, before he went back inside Fangtasia.

---

I had the next day off from Merlotte’s, and after I – once again – slept in, I had plenty of time to take care of my errands for Bill. When I got back home from having dropped of a case of O-neg on his porch, I texted him the info of an electrician and a florist who could help him out with his other requirements.

My mail had arrived while I was gone, and as I got ready for a night of serving beer, I looked through the bills and catalogues; finding among them an envelope without sender. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a seductive pose, wearing very little. I recognized myself immediately. It had been taken my last night at my old job at Sugar and Spice – a night I didn’t remember much from, due to a drink I should never have accepted. I almost fell into a kitchen chair, and shuddered. I put my hand to my chest, remembering the wound I’d earned that night.  

He’d found me. I wasn’t surprised. Though my number and address weren’t listed, if Thomas wanted something, he’d get it; he had a way of talking himself in to things. Either that, or he’d use brute force. The thing that made me confused, was the fact that Thomas wasn’t even supposed to remember me. I was supposed to be just another dancer he’d taken pictures of, at the club.

I was startled when my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up, when I saw it was Sam. “Hey…”, I croaked. “Hey, Luce’… I’m really sorry to ask you this, but Coby has the mumps, and Arlene needs to…”. “You need me tonight?”, I asked, almost hopefully. I didn’t want to be alone. “You’d be doing me a big favor…”, Sam said. “I’ll be there”. “Thanks, cher’. I’ll give you tomorrow off instead”, he replied in a relieved voice. “No problem what so ever”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few”. I hung up, and hurried getting ready for work.

Merlotte’s was full of people; which was pretty typical for a Friday night. The tips would be pretty good, and I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Sookie handed me a clean apron, and I tied it around my waist, avoiding her gaze. “You seem out of sorts”, she muttered, as I tied up my hair in a bun. “Seem? Or are you listening in…?”, I said. She looked suddenly sad. “I’m sorry, Sookie… It’s been a hard day”. She smiled a little. “I can’t read you as well as I can some other people, you know”, she said. “Whatever comes through, is usually just colors and emotions. But they’re pretty intense, so I try to avoid them”. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, she shrugged. “It’s just like that with some folks… Makes it easier to be your friend, though”. I squeezed her hand, and walked out to take some orders.

Hoyt and Jason were nursing beers in a corner, and I walked over to check on them. “Everything good here?”. “Much better, now you’re here”, Jason winked. “You know, I saw your car out back. It ain’t looking good. I’d be happy to give you a ride, when you clock out”. “I’m sure you would, but I’m not in the mood for crabs tonight”. Hoyt laughed heartily, and Jason smiled and shook his head. “Any food for you gentlemen?”, I asked. “LaFayette has some gumbo cooking tonight”. “Sounds good. Hoyt?”, Jason said. “Two bowls, then”, Hoyt smiled. “Coming right up”, I said, and took their order to the serving hatch; winking at LaFayette in the kitchen.

For the next few hours, I pushed away all thoughts of possessive men, and focused on earning my wages. Bill stopped by to give Sookie a kiss, and thanked me for my help so far; leaving me another list. “Just some time next week, will be fine”, he said. “You’re welcome to text me, Bill”, I said. “I dislike using the keys to type”, the vampire grumbled. “I prefer the old-fashioned way of writing”. “Did you use a quill?”, I asked, giving him a sly smile. “Just a no. 2 pencil”, he retorted. “And once again; I’m sorry…”. I groaned. “Please, stop… Nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine”.

Sookie gave me a slight look, which Bill caught immediately. “You’re not. What is wrong?”. “Sookie!”, I sighed. “Sorry! You’re pretty much radiating fear, honey”, she said. Bill looked at me earnestly. “I will do my best to keep you safe from Eric”, he said. “I don’t want you to worry about him”. “I’m not scared of Eric… No more than the next person, anyway”, I assured him; and walked towards the bar, to grab a tray of beers. Sookie followed me there. “What, then?”, she asked. I clenched my jaw. “Could you give this to Jane Bodehouse? I’m gonna go take my break”, I said.

I almost ran out the back door, and lit a cigarette. Sam was putting a bag of trash in the container, when I got there. “Everything alright?”, he asked. “Why is everyone asking me that?”, I almost snarled. Sam seemed taken aback. “Sorry… I’m just… It’s been a day”. “We all have those”, Sam said. “You want to talk about it?”. “Not really”, I said.

Sam scratched his head. “How’s it going, working for Bill Compton?”, he asked. “Fine, so far. It’s an easy gig”, I said. “Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of my work here”. “I know. I just worry about you, is all”, he said. “You’ve had a strange look on your face all night”. I sighed deeply, not wanting to give away too much. “I got word from an old… acquaintance”, I said. “I’d hoped to avoid it”. “Ex?”, Sam muttered. “Not really…”. I swallowed hard. “Sam… If I… If some day I don’t come in to work… It’s not because I’m playing hookie”. “That sounds ominous…”, Sam said. “Just… I like this job. Bon Temps”, I said. “I’m happy here. So, if suddenly, I’m not around… I didn’t just skip town, ok?”. Sam walked up to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Liv, talk to me. What’s going on?”. Sookie stuck her head out. “Sam, we need to call Jane’s son again. She’s passed out on the pool table…”. Sam rolled his eyes, and went back inside, leaving me to smoke in peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text; from Eric, of all people. - When can I see you again?

I rolled my eyes. - How do I know you’re not watching me now?

The reply came within seconds. - You don’t. But I’m not. Do you want me to? I decided against replying, and went back inside – chiding myself for indeed wanting that.

When I got back home, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed – but not before having checked to see if all windows and doors were safely closed and locked. Even without A/C, I’d rather sweat than risk someone coming into the house while I slept.

My phone vibrated, and when I saw who was calling, I picked it up. “What?”, I said. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”, Eric said. Loud music was thundering in the background. I looked at the screen of my phone, and saw that I had multiple unread texts. “Because I was working. And because I didn’t want to”, I said. That last part was a lie. “What are you wearing?”, he asked. “A leather garter belt, and a top hat”, I sneered. “Really?”. I could hear his smile. “No. Goodnight, Eric”. “Read your messages”, he managed to say, before I hung up.

I more or less had to pry my eyes open to read the messages the vampire had sent me. - I’m not used to have my messages ignored. Well, get used to it, I thought. - I could come by your job. Just say the word. - I want to see you soon. When? At least he was asking, and not telling me. That was a step up from what I was used to. - Please. That one must have hurt. I sent him a message back. - I’ll let you know. And if you insist on texting more than a teenage girl, I’ll reply like one. Ttyl lol rofl xoxo

As soon as I’d dropped my phone on the bed, I smacked my forehead. I’d written xo. That thought kept me awake for hours, and I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up again.

---

As soon as I woke a little after noon, I rushed out to handle Bills errands. He’d given me until the week after, but as I saw the picture sent to me laying on my kitchen table, I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in the house. I even called Sam to ask if he was absolutely sure he didn’t need me at the bar; but he all but told me that if he saw me anywhere near Merlotte’s, he’d throw me over his shoulder, and carry me home, so I could enjoy my day off.

A little after sunset, there was a knock on my door, and I was slightly startled to see Eric on my small porch. I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “I was in the neighborhood; and thought I’d save you the trouble of texting me, when you’d be able to see me”, he said. “Besides, I don’t want you driving that rust bucket all the way to Shreveport again. It’s a death-trap”. He looked towards my car, in the driveway. “You can see me now”, I said. “Wonderful”, he said, and once again dug his eyes into mine. “Invite me in”. “No…”, I said. He once again looked confused. “Why can’t I glamor you?”, he asked. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re impotent”. Eric barred his fangs; making me jump slightly. He looked dangerous. “Not nearly”, he said. “You shouldn’t test me”.

Not wanting him to think he’d scared me too much, I took a hesitant step out of the door, putting less than a foot between us. Eric smelled like nothing I’d ever encountered before. It was crisp, and yet warm; like expensive aftershave and salt water, with an undertone of something I couldn’t define – something musky.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting to talk to me”, I said. “I get it, I’m human. Blood and sex, and all that… But you have a club full of willing participants to whatever it is you wanna do”. Eric nodded. “I know. It’s infuriating that I feel the need to be here”, he said. “But I think I found a fix for it”. “Oh?”, I croaked, doing my best to ignore the fact that a man, that looked more or less like a GQ model, was currently reaching out his hand to stroke my cheek. As his fingertips touched my skin, my breath hitched. “Yes. See, when I have sex with a human, I usually bore with them pretty quickly”, Eric said. “I thought we should just get it over with, so I can move on”. I took a step back, and my back hit the screen door. “I don’t want to have sex with you!”, I lied. “Of course you do. I’m a very good lover”, Eric smiled. “Now, invite me in, and I’ll undress you”. “Shove it up your ass!”, I said. Eric raised a brow at me. “Well, it’s been a while, but I’m up for it if you are”.

I scrambled to open the screen door, and get back inside the house. My body was screaming at me to give in to the sensation in my lower belly, but I told myself that I had to persist. “You should… go now”, I said. Eric stepped closer to me, and I felt his firm chest against my back. “Why?”, he asked, sounding genuinely confused again. “You’re… imposing”, I croaked, and turned to meet his eyes. They were piercing mine, sending tingles down my spine. “Stop trying to glamour me” “I’m not. It doesn’t seem to work on you”, he said; a hint of regret in his voice. “Though I wonder… would you let me test a theory?”. “What theory?”. Eric smiled. “Just humor me. Pam?”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the blonde female vampire suddenly stood next to Eric; and hurried over the threshold, so neither of them could reach me. “What the hell?”, I said. “Yeah, Eric. What the hell? I’ve been waiting behind that tree forever. In my new Jimmy Choo’s”, Pam said. “Be nice, Pam”, Eric said. Pam drew her lips back in an insincere smile. “Hello, Liv. I am very glad to see you”, she said. “Happy?”. She looked out the corner of her eyes at Eric.

Eric gave her a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Pam seemed to shrink in front of me. “Liv, I would like you to let Pam try to glamour you”, he said. “What? No!”, I exclaimed. “I want to know if it’s…”. “Just you?”, I said. For the first time, Eric wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Fine. But I’m not coming outside”. Eric nodded. “Pam, try to glamour her. But don’t ask her to come outside where we can reach her”. He was trying to make me feel safe – it was almost endearing.

Pam took a step forward, and looked deep into my eyes. Her voice was soothing. “Liv… You want to invite Eric inside. You want to have sex with him”. I shook my head. “No… Not happening”, I said. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You… want to invite me inside… Have sex with me”. “No thank you”, I snarled. Pam stepped back, and began laughing. “What the actual fuck?”, she guffawed. “What are you?”. Eric stepped in between us, his back to me. “Thank you, Pamela. You can leave now”, he said. “Eric! She’s…”, Pam began. “Now!”, Eric growled. She disappeared as fast as she’d come.

Eric stood there for a moment, not turning to face me. I was about to close the door, when he spoke again. “I’m making you mine… And getting you a better car”. “The hell, you are", I sputtered. He spun around with wide eyes. “You’re saying… no?”, he asked bemusedly. “I’m not anyone’s; let alone yours”. Eric chuckled at me. “I just claimed you”. “Well you can shove that claim up your ass, as well”, I proclaimed. “You wanted me to tell you about myself”, I said. He didn’t respond, simply stood still and never diverted his eyes from mine. “I left San Diego to get away from a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer… I’m not about to throw myself into the arms of another one who does the same”, I said. “This… guy”, Eric said. “Did he hurt you?”. There was an angry edge to his voice. I looked down, and crossed my arms in front of me. “He did… It’s over. But only because I ran away”, I said. “He… It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want that again”.

For a long moment, he just looked at me; making me swallow to wet my dry mouth. “Alright”, he finally said calmly. “Are we finished?”, I asked, almost in a whisper. “We’re finished”, he said. “For now”. Eric lowered his head, looking earnestly at me. “As long as you say no to me, I won’t do anything”, he said. “I will not force myself on you, Liv”. “Why?”, I asked, genuinely surprised. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind playing games…”, Eric smiled. I shook my head. “Never mind. I thought we were having a moment here, but it’s gone”. I went to close the door in his face. “Liv!”, Eric said; his voice imposing. I halted, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why… But I will not”.

He turned around, and walked down the steps from my small porch. I took a deep breath, before running after him. He heard me coming, and turned around. “Thank you… For at least kind of taking no for an answer”, I said. I tugged at his jacket, to get him to lower his head, and I got on my toes; placing a kiss on his cheek. Once again, I was surprised to find his skin not icy, but simply cool; and I let my lips linger for a moment.

I was about to turn back, when Eric put both his hands on my shoulders, and looked me square in the face. I could tell he wasn’t trying to glamour me. “Be mine”, he said. My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed say yes!. “N-no, Eric… No, I can’t do that”. Eric looked as if I’d slapped him. My phone vibrated, and I took it from my pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Bill… I have to take this".

Erics face dropped, and he let go of me. “Goodnight, sunshine”, he said, and walked away into the darkness. “Eric!”, I called after him. “I regret picking up your keys for you”, Eric replied, his back still to me. “I would have loved to see you bend over”.

---

[theredraccoon]

A Desperate Proposal - Ch 2

The soft snick of the heavy office door closing was overly loud in the quiet room and Simon raised his head, blinking rapidly. Like breathing, blinking was still a habit that Simon had yet to shake in his five years as a vampire, but whatever, he had time. Oodles of time, apparently; a fact that still threw him on a regular basis. He blinked again, actually registering the quiet— when had his music stopped? Wasn’t his playlist something like five hours long? Had he really been working that long? What time was it?

This time it was the creak of the chair in front of his desk that got his attention. Simon finally snapped back to the real world and took in the sight of his Sire, sitting prim and proper as usual. Raphael’s face was a mix of resignation, amusement, and irritation; in other words, it was his “Simon Face.” 

“Good afternoon, Simon. How are the books looking today?” Raphael’s voice was smooth and dry.

Simon automatically straightened and his hands started to shuffle the papers around on his desk, moving his laptop back, rearranging pens, voice getting brighter and louder as he talked. “Oh! It’s going well. The numbers for last month look good, we've made some necessary adjustments. Forcing you to let me buy Quickbooks is paying off, I’ve been able to sort through the mess from, err, before, so much faster and I think that if make a few strategic changes we’ll be able to set up the new vampires with like, an income that will let them not be whiny assholes about what they’re missing from their former lives and I think… that you are not actually here to talk about accounting, are you.” 

Simon thought he could detect at least a hint of “impressed” in the lines of Raphael’s face now, but the irritation was also stronger. Simon shifted in the ornate chair and bit his cheek as he kept his mouth shut and let the silence grow. 

Finally, Raphael spoke. “No, Simon, I’m not here to talk about accounting. I’m here to relay the latest news from the Downworld Cabinet. Decisions have finally been made and they affect you. Directly affect you, in fact.” Raphael tugged at his cuffs, the crisp white shirt peeking out from the dark blue of his suit jacket. Simon’s eyebrows rose; he wasn’t used to any signs of nervousness from his Sire. His curiosity grew, along with some burgeoning apprehension.

Rapael continued, his voice firming as he went along. “The Cabinet has had a series of emergency meetings with the Clave. After much negotiation we have what we hope is the start of a solution to the... problem we are facing. There will be a series of marriages, between the Downworld and the Shadowhunters of New York. These alliances, if they prove effective, will then take place across the world as we attempt to figure out what is happening and how to counter it. If, and only if, our help is essential to defeating whatever is causing the Shadowhunters to drop like flies, we - the Downworld - will be able to renegotiate the Accords in a manner that is fair and equitable to us and not the Clave. So. We are obviously very invested in making these marriages work and be productive.” 

Simon was blinking rapidly again. He felt his brain kickstart into a different gear as he struggled to comprehend what Raphael was saying and the implications of what he was hearing. Marriages? The Clave willing to renegotiate the Accords? Really? Those stubborn assholes? He knew the situation was serious, but really? Marriages? Who was getting married? Wait, why did Raphael say that he, Simon, was going to be directly affected?

His mouth popped open and Simon heard himself say, in a strange tone he’d never heard himself use before, “Who am I marrying, Sire?” Then Simon froze in his chair, his body startled by the leap his brain had made. He watched Raphael twitch slightly.

“The Second in Command of the New York Institute, Jace Lightwood. Alexander Lightwood’s brother.”

The words fell like dead weights in the middle of the room. Simon’s muscles felt locked in place, while his thoughts started to race forward like a bullet train.

The events of the past few months flicked through Simon’s head like a movie on steroids. Simon noticing expenses for the Hotel Dumort increasing suddenly for no discernable reason. The realization that Downworlders and foreign vampires were quietly flooding into New York at rates that surprised even the older vampires in the Clan, causing them to spend more and more money to hide their presence in the city. Raphael taking his concerns to Magnus. Magnus talking to Alec about the increased number of Downworlders in the New York Institute’s territory. 

And then the horrifying knowledge that Shadowhunters were dying, dying everywhere, and it was forcing Downworlders into the city as they sought the protection of the Nephilim that remained, the protection that they would have fiercely denied ever needing in the past. Finally, endless hushed meetings between the various contingents of the Downworld as they struggled to make sense of what was happening. Simon, as Raphael’s reluctant Second, had attended several before his annoyance at the Seelie representative and his general impatience at the slow pace had led to Raphael kicking him out. 

And now here they were, and Simon was beginning to realize that hiding his head in the accounting nightmare that was the New York Clan for the last month had probably been a mistake.  

“I’m sorry, what? I’m marrying who? Why him? Why me? Who else is getting married? When are these marriages happening? What about the fact that I’m a vampire? The Seelies agreed to this? The werewolves? Is that what you’re saying? Really? I’m getting married? But my mom won’t be there. Or my sister. I never thought I’d get married without my mom there. What am I going to wear? Are the marriages taking place at the same time? Is this really the only way? Is Jace the hot blond one? The one who always looks constipated? I’m getting married?”

Raphael’s hands were suddenly on his face, cold brands on his cheeks, and Simon realized that at some point during his semi-hysterical rant he’d gotten up and was standing in front of his Sire. His body was vibrating.

“Simon. Child. I am here. I know that this is a shock and I am sorry for it. But yes, this is the only way. The Nephilim have been hiding their true situation, or they actually didn’t realize it until now, it’s unclear. Regardless, their numbers are now so low that the Downworld is legitimately in danger. We need them and for the first time in forever, they are admitting that they need us. Alliance through marriage has worked for Mundanes for millenia, we might as well try it. This is happening.”

“But why me?” Simon’s voice was a whine that he couldn’t control. Simon stayed still even as Raphael let go of his face and moved back to the chair in front of Simon’s desk. Watched Raphael settle back down, adjusting his suit for the second time. Finally, he spoke.

“Simon, I’m not sure if you have ever fully realized your power, or your responsibilities, as my Second. When I Turned you, you automatically had greater status than most as my Child, but when you presented as a Daylighter… Simon, the only reason that the New York Clan is mine is because I am your Sire. If I were not here, the other vampires would follow you. That is how powerful the draw of a Daylighter is. Especially because we have no idea why they exist, why you are one. If this plan is to work, each representative has to be of high importance, someone that proves that we are committed and have power to offer.” 

Simon’s mouth opened. And closed. And opened and then closed again. He felt like a fish out of water, trying to grasp the full weight of what Raphael was saying. He’d known that the other vampires treated him differently but he’d thought it was just because he was young. And a bit of a spaz. And a nerd spouting pop culture references to creatures that were around when the only entertainment was going to see P.T. Barnum and his fish-monkeys. This was different. Slightly scary.

A brief wince crossed Raphael’s face and Simon’s focus sharpened. “What else, Raphael? What aren’t you telling me?”

“The Shadowhunters— Alec— put Jace’s name into the negotiations first, as a sign that they were willing to offer their best and brightest, and someone near and dear to the Institute. But we still weren’t sure how desperate they were and if the Clave was actually committed to changing some of their… prejudices. So we offered you. And they agreed. They are serious. Alec Lightwood is the one that discovered the depth of the problem in the first place. He seems level headed and not as willing to put up with the Clave’s bullshit."

The hits kept coming, apparently. “Does Jace even like guys? Do I have to get married to a straight guy? I thought this wasn’t supposed to be a complete sham?”

“Alec has assured me that his brother is bisexual and I believe him. But Shadowhunters are notoriously homophobic and it might be... difficult for a while. You remember the scandal when news of Magnus dating Alec broke. I think the Nephilim were more upset that Magnus was a man than he was a Downworlder. Or maybe it was equal, who knows. Regardless, no, you will not be marrying someone who isn’t interested in men. These marriages are meant to be alliances, they need a chance to work. ”

Simon drifted back to his own chair and sat down. “Well, at least there’s that. Although he could just be an asshole. The few times I’ve seen him lurking around Pandemonium he always looks angry. Maybe he just has Resting Bitch Face. Hopefully.” He met Raphael’s eyes. “This is really happening? It’s the only way? I feel like a broken record, but I need to know. I kinda gave up on marriage when I became a vampire, I’m not sure how to feel about this.”

Raphael leaned forward and kept Simon’s gaze. “Yes, Simon, this needs to happen. We don’t know what’s killing the Shadowhunters and it’s affecting all of us worse than we could have imagined. We need to figure out what’s happening and stop it, hopefully without too many more casualties. And we can use these marriages to make a better life for ourselves afterwards. If there is an afterwards.” His voice faded away and there was silence again.

“Shit. I guess I’m marrying a Shadowhunter.” Simon let his head rest against the heavy wooden chair and closed his eyes.

“Yes. Simon. Thank you. We’ll talk more soon.” 

Simon heard Raphael get up and walk towards the door, enhanced hearing picking up every footfall and swish of cloth, knowing that it was deliberate, that Raphael was a master of silent movement, that his Sire wanted Simon to know that he was leaving, that he was retreating to give Simon space to absorb the bombshells dropped into his life. 

The door shut soundlessly this time, just a whiff of displaced air. Simon swallowed hard.

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

because I am a sucker for vampires (ha!), maybe some vamp!Darby Allin? 👀

Mark

Readers POV

"Keep some ice on it, do what you normally do." I explained to Matt who was sitting in my office, Nick standing behind him. "However, we need to move your match against Top Flight, there's no way I can clear you for a match this Wednesday."

"Got it." Matt said standing with the help of Nick.

"I'm serious Matt. You need to actually rest." I pushed, knowing he would probably not be resting all that much.

"You got it Doc." He said winking at me, causing me to roll my eyes. "Wow." I turned back to see Matt and Nick standing out of the way as refs helped Cody into my room.

"Shit what happened?" I asked when I saw his back. Blood was running down his back, but nothing appeared to be stuck in it.

I looked at ask the fees what happened but they were gone. "Cody, what happened?" I asked as I pulled some gloves on and grabbed some supplies to clean his back. "It wasn't a no dq match was it?"

"No, me and Darby got jumped after the match." I froze for a second when he said that but forced myself to kneel behind Cody to start cleaning his back.

"What did they do to make you bleed like this?" I questioned pushing Darby out of my thoughts.

"Starks and Cage threw us on top of that car Darby made his entrance in." He explained.

"W-where is Darby?"

"He's ok Y/n, one of the other doctors are helping him." Cody was one of the few people that knew about my and Darby's relationship. As a human it was, frowned upon to be with anyone with mythical powers. And Darby is a Vampire.

I simply nodded as I continued to work. Non of the cuts were vary deep, so I just cleaned them and wrapped his torso. "Ok, you should be fine, take it easy for a few days. Make sure to come see me Tuesday or Wednesday for me to check to make sure it looks good."

"Thanks y/n. You can go ahead and take the rest of the night off, we have plenty of other medical stuff for the rest of the paper view. Darby is in room 493." He said shaking my hand. "But I'll let him know your in here."

"Thank you." I mumbled as he walked out. I sat down at my desk and turned to look at my paper work. Even though I have the rest of the night off I have to fill out some things on the injury's I've seen.

As I worked I heard the door open causing me to turn and see Darby closing the door. He was slightly hunched over, and his back was patched up much like I did to Cody. "Oh darbs." I whispered jumping up and walking over to him. He was still facing the door and I let my hand rest lightly on his back careful to avoid the bandage.

"Congratulations." I said, motioning to the title he had dropped on the floor. In an instant he had turned around and pinned me against the door. I couldn't move against his strength and was at his mercy. I could see that his eyes had turned a dark shade of purple.

"Congratulations? For what?!" He snapped making me frown.

"How about the fact that your TNT champion." I said but he just shook his head.

"What's the point? If Starks was ever going to leave me alone that's out the door now." He growled. I should be angry that he's upset of something like this, but instead I'm worried.

"Darbs, since when do you care that he's after you? You've always been up for some competition."

He frowned at me as though I was missing something. "Cody didn't tell you did he?"

"Tell me what?"

He sighed, releasing me and taking a step back. "After they attacked and the cameras were off Taz talked to us. He over heard a conversation Cody and Kahn had, about us. They know we're together."

"So? I know it's looked down upon, but why should that matter?" I asked still confused. Taz wouldn't drag the company down and tell people, he makes to mush money to do that.

"You don't understand, he said Ricky would try and Mark you." I felt my stomach drop. Marko me? That's something you let the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, it's more binding then a wedding certificate. "And if he did that it would be his right to-"

"Not let me see you." I mumbled. No wonder Cody was giving me sad looks earlier. There was no law against forced marking, because once it happened there was no way to tell. They have control over you. Most people mark on each other and both have free will, but I highly doubt Starks wants to be equal in that. Plus humans couldn’t mark others.

“Now do see why I’m upset? He wants the title so bad he would hurt you.” He said taking my hands in his own, pulling me to his body. “Maybe if I relinquish the title now He-“

“Don’t even start saying that. You just won it, and you’ve been working for it for a long time.” I did shaking my head.

“Then what are we going to do. I’m not letting you get hurt.” We simply stood there, his arms wrapped around me for a few minutes, no one saying anything.

“There one thing...” I whispered, and idea forming in my head.

“What is it.” He asked, not even looking down at me, letting his head rest on top of mine.

“You could mark me.” He pulled away quickly looking at me surprised. “What? If you mark me Ricky can’t.”

He licked his lips lightly, looking nervous. “I-I don’t, are you sure? If I did, I couldn’t take it back.”

“I know.” I said looking at his eyes.

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

“Fuck Darby!” I moaned as he trust into me slowly. I was on my back on our hotel bed with him holding himself over me. We were both naked, and my hands were running over his back lightly.

“God Y/n...” he groaned, his eyes opening wide, allowing me to see his dark purple eyes. I naturally arched my back, my head falling back so my neck was exposed to him.

“Please Darby, please!” I begged as his head fell down to my neck. He licked it a bit before I felt his teeth sink into my neck. I cried out in pain as his teeth sank deeper. He pulled away a bit and licked at the mark to seal it.

“Fuck baby you did so well.” He mumbled kissing me lightly. I realized we had both cum during the exchange. I reached my hand up lightly and ran my hand over the spot, but cried out in pain, as it was still soar. “Calm down, your ok. Let’s get you in the shower” he whispered shifting so his arms were wrapped around me to pick me up. I hid my face in his neck as as he walked to the bathroom.

“Can you stand so I can start the shower?” He asked once in the bathroom. I nodded and grabbed the counter when he sat me down for extra support. As he started the shower I turned to look in the mirror. My face was still flushed from sex, and sweat was running down my body. On my neck was a deep purple bruise with two puncture wounds from where he bit. A symbol that I was his now.

[cathkaesque]

Why is supernova – the explosion and death of a star – an apt metaphor for what could now be about to unfold? Why could the coronavirus, an organism 1000th the diameter of a human hair, be the catalyst for such a cataclysm? And what can workers, youth and the dispossessed of the world do to defend ourselves and to ‘bring to birth a new world from the ashes of the old’, in the words of the US labour hymn, Solidarity Forever?

The first stage of a supernova is implosion, analogous to the long-term decline in interest rates that began well before the onset of systemic crisis in 2007, which has accelerated since then, and which fell off a cliff just as coronavirus began its rampage in early January 2020. Falling interest rates are fundamentally the result of two factors: falling rates of profit, and the hypertrophy of capital, i.e. its tendency grow faster than the capacity of workers and farmers to supply it with the fresh blood it needs to live. As Marx said, in Capital vol. 1, “capital’s sole driving force [is] the drive to valorise itself, to create surplus-value… capital is dead labour which, vampire-like, only lives by sucking living labour, and lives the more, the more labour it sucks.”

These two factors combine to form a doom loop of awesome destructive power. Let us examine its most important linkages.

Many things both mask and counteract the falling rate of profit, turning this into a tendency that only reveals itself in times of crisis, of which the most important has been the shift of production from Europe, North America and Japan to take advantage of the much higher rates of exploitation available in low-wage countries. The falling rate of profit manifests itself in a growing reluctance of capitalists to invest in production; more and more of what they do invest in is branding, intellectual property and other parasitic and non-productive activities. This long-running capitalist investment strike is amplified by the global shift of production – boosting profits by slashing wages rather than by building new factories and deploying new technologies. This enables huge mark-ups, turbo-charging the accumulation of vast wealth for which capitalists have no productive use – hence the hypertrophy of capital.

This, in turn, results in declining interest rates – as capitalists compete with each other to purchase financial assets, they bid up their price, and the revenue streams they generate fall in proportion – hence falling interest rates. Falling interest rates and rising asset values have created what is, for capitalist investors, the ultimate virtuous circle – they can borrow vast sums to invest in financial assets of all kinds, further inflating their ‘value’.

Falling interest rates therefore have two fundamental consequences: the inflation of asset bubbles and the piling up of debt mountains. In fact, these are two sides of the same coin: for every debtor there is a creditor; every debt is someone else’s asset. Asset bubbles could deflate (if productivity increases), or else they will burst; economic growth could, over time, erode debt mountains, or else they will come crashing down.

Since 2008, productivity has stagnated across the world and GDP growth has been lower than in any decade since World War II, resulting in what Nouriel Roubini has called “the mother of all asset bubbles,” while aggregate debt (the total debt of governments, corporations and households), already mountainous before the 2008 financial crash, has since then more than doubled in size. The growth of debt has been particularly pronounced in the countries of the global South. Total debt for the 30 largest of them reached $72.5tn in 2019 – a 168% rise over the past 10 years, according to Bank of International Settlements data. China accounts for $43tn of this, up from $10tn a decade ago. In sum, well before coronavirus, global capitalism already had ‘underlying health issues’, it was already in intensive care.

Global capitalism – which is more imperialist than ever, since it is both more parasitic and more reliant than ever before on the proceeds of super-exploitation in low-wage countries – is therefore inexorably heading to supernova, towards the bursting of assets bubbles and the crashing of debt mountains. Everything that imperialist central banks have done since 2008 has been designed to postpone the inevitable day of reckoning. But now that day has come.

10-year US Treasury bonds are considered the safest of havens and the ultimate benchmark against which all other debt is priced. In times of great uncertainty, investors invariably stampede out of stock markets and into the safest bond markets, so as share prices fall, bond prices – otherwise known as ‘fixed income securities’ – rise. As they do, the fixed income they yield translates into a falling rate of interest. But not on March 9, when, in the midst of plummeting stock markets, 10-year US Treasury bond interest rates spiked upwards. According to one bond trader, “statistically speaking, [this] should only happen every few millennia.” Even in the darkest moment of the global financial crisis, when Lehman Brothers (a big merchant bank) went bankrupt in September 2008, this did not happen.

The immediate cause of this minor heart attack was the scale of asset-destruction in other share and bond markets, causing investors to scramble to turn their speculative investments into cash. To satisfy their demands, fund managers were obliged to sell their most easily-exchangeable assets, thereby negating their safe-haven status, and this jolted governments and central banks to take extreme action and fire their ‘big bazookas’, namely the multi-trillion dollar rescue packages – including a pledge to print money without limit to ensure the supply of cash to the markets. But this event also provided a premonition for what is down the road. In the end, dollar bills, like bond and share certificates, are just pieces of paper. As trillions more of them flood into the system, events in March 2020 bring closer the day when investors will lose faith in cash itself – and in the power of the economy and state standing behind it. Then the supernova moment will have arrived.

During the middle two weeks of March, imperialist governments announced plans to spend $4.5 trillion bailing out their own bankrupt economies. An emergency online summit of the G20 (the G7 imperialist nations plus a dozen or so ‘emerging’ nations, including Russia, India, China, Brazil, and Indonesia) on 26 March, declared “we are injecting over $5 trillion into the global economy.” These are weasel words; by ‘global’ they actually mean ‘domestic’! The response of the ‘left’ in the imperialist countries is to clap its hands and say, we were right all along! There is a magic money tree after all! – apparently not realising that this is exactly what happened post-2008: the socialisation of private debt. Or that, unlike post-2008, this time it will not work.

Some highlights of John Smith’s excellent article on the economic crisis induced by the coronavirus. The pandemic has popped the bubble that has been keeping our imperialist system coherent since the 2008 crisis. In order to keep that bubble going, Central Banks have been undertaking unprecedented financial measures which they are attempting to repeat again. The result will be a reckoning, as the bad debts of the system pass from the private banks and become concentrated in the Central Banks that are core to our monetary systems. We need to use this crisis to begin building a rational system based on the using resources for human need rather than the exploitative anarchy of capitalism. 

[detectivedreameater]

Off The Record || Metzli and Marley

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: After a very expensive painting is stolen from Metzli’s gallery, they run head first into the perfect person to help them. Marley’s ready to get back into the game. CONTENT: Blood, Death, A fuckton of sarcasm

The key slid into the lock with a satisfying click, and Metzli made their way to their office to shut off the security system. Everything was in order, everything was in its place. As the air conditioning blew on their face, they grabbed their clipboard, and began their daily ritual. Everything had to be perfect before the curator could open the gallery in 15 minutes. 

Making their rounds around the gallery, something was definitely amiss. Section one, check. Section 2, check. Section 3, che—wait a minute. The print out with their fresh check marks must be in error. No, there’s no way Metzli would have made a mistake like that. Upon further inspection, they discovered the Murakami painting they acquired two weeks ago, was gone. “No! No, no, no!” They exclaimed and began to pace angrily. 

From the outside, people could see Metzli yelling expletives, but they didn’t care. All that mattered right now was finding the culprit and tearing them apart. How did they get through their security anyway? No, focus. Track. Charging furiously outside, there was plenty of cloud cover thanks to the snow to spare them any pain. Blinded by their mission, they ran into something, no, someone. 

Today was routine. No, really, it had been, up until someone had run headlong into Marley, sending her stumbling back a few inches in the crusty snow that had hardened on the sidewalk. She hadn’t really been paying attention to where she was walking, so maybe this was her fault, but she’d had other things on her mind. Namely, Erin. And also that place that her mind kept going back to, with the man and the water and the tree. 

She’d been so out of it, she hadn’t even realized she wasn’t wearing her sunglasses. The cloud cover made it enough so that she didn’t feel sluggish or heavy in the afternoon light, but looking up, she found herself blinded for a moment by the glare of sunbeams off of snow drifts. She squinted through it, towards the person they’d plowed into (pun intended) and ruffled her brows. “Slow down there, speedracer,” she grumbled, rubbing her shoulder where they’d collided. “Got somewhere to be?”

Sputtering nonsense for a few moments, it took Metzli everything they had to calm down. Their curly black mane was disheveled from the impact and it took a hand brushing through to set it back in its perfect place. “Yes, I have somewhere to be! One of my most expensive paintings was stolen!” Any attempt to keep cool was out the window and continued to pull their hair in frustration. 

Many more expletives were shouted as they gathered themselves together and they took a deep, unnecessary breath. Metzli already had their plate full and now they had to pretend to be polite. Great. “Apologies. The painting is one of a kind by Murakami. So…I’m quite frazzled at the moment.” This time their tone was much more put together and sounded like they were actually sane. 

Marley watched with a bored expression, groaning only a little bit internally when it was announced that something had been stolen. And she, as a cop, had a “duty” or whatever. She rustled through her pockets for a moment and picked out her sunglasses, sliding them onto her face as the person in front of her fussed, rather anxiously, with their hair. “Careful,” she said, speaking in her normal deadpan, “you don’t wanna ruin that perfect head of yours.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the back track, stuffing her hands in her pockets once again. “You don’t have to apologize to me. In fact, I’m probably the best person you could’ve run smack dab into.” She held out her hand, and in it was a business card. “Marley Stryder, Detective.” 

She hadn’t wanted to work on an off day, but, hey, duty call or whatever. And a missing painting was much more exciting than the five or so cases that had crossed her desk today about public defacing and noise complaints. Sometimes, on low weeks, White Crest was more boring than Albany. “So, you wanna slow down and tell me what happened? I think I might be able to help.”

With widened eyes, Metzli took the business card, analyzing its legitimacy. Lo and behold, it truly was legit. “Marley Stryder, I’m Metzli Bernal,” Their tone now was a stark contrast to their earlier more frantic one. It was a total one-eighty. The dull and cold tone Marley had did wonders on their little episode. 

“I opened maybe fifteen minutes and during my routine checklist, I noticed the Murakami was missing. No security trips, no tapes, and now a 1.8 million dollar painting is just gone!” Metzli was getting worked up again. “I’ll rip apart whoever did this!” Running a hand through their hair once more, they forced air out. “I’m cool, I’m cool. Sorry. This doesn’t happen to me. It’s never happened to me.” There was a certain layer of defeat that coated the last sentence. They felt bested, and that wasn’t a feeling they were familiar with or liked. 

Tilting her head as the other person examined her card, Marley waited. She could be patient when needed. It wasn’t like she had anything to do today, really, besides muse on her own misgivings and what she was supposed to do about it all now. “Nice to meet ya, Metzli Bernal.” She tapped the card. “You can keep that.” A glance around the street showed Marley that it was that time of the afternoon where people slid into lazy comas, waiting for time to breech into evening. Aside from dusk, when eyes went from dull to red, it was her favorite time of the day. 

“Alright, why don’t you show me the gallery and where the missing painting was hung up,” she offered, pointing down the street from the direction they had come from. “Maybe I can see something you didn’t. And, hey, if we happen to find them, say, before the rest of the squad arrives, I’ll give you a go at ‘em.” Especially because this sounded like something supernatural, and Marley wasn’t interested in coming up with a lie today. “Today’s your lucky day-- I’m the best on the force at finding missing things.” 

A smile slowly formed on Metzli’s face. Marley had already proven to be not only a strong ally, but a fun one at that, in a short amount of time. “You’re not a typical detective, are you?” They asked, already knowing the answer. Without saying anything more, the vampire moved back into the gallery, holding the door for Marley. 

“The painting was taken from the area over there,” Metzli pointed as they walked. “If you’re the best, I will be forever grateful. Will this reach the news? I don’t think Murakami would be pleased to find out that his painting was stolen, even if it was recovered.” If it were up to them, no one but the two of them would know about this. They would eliminate the culprit and take the painting back. No loose ends, no breaking news. 

“Depends on what you consider typical,” Marley answered evenly, following the other person back towards the gallery. It looked fairly new, Marley certainly didn’t remember it ever existing on her nightly rounds of the city. She didn’t mind new places, though, and she certainly didn’t mind new cases, as long as they were interesting. It was a little sad that her most interesting case right now was an art theft. She’d take what she could get. She followed Metzli’s instructions and headed over to the spot where the painting had previously been hanging up. The only clue that anything was missing was the empty gap in the wall space between two other pieces. Marley traced her hand along the way, but it felt as smooth and cool as she expected it to. Nothing had touched it. “Any flickering lights or weird, unexplained events before this?” she asked, bending down to look at the space beneath the painting. No trace of anything on the ground, either. 

“Besides some annoying ass ravens that kept following me everywhere? No. Those pendejos were taken care of a while ago. Yesterday was no different from the others either.” Metzli answered confidently. Being able to sense danger and take care of it was in their nature. This had to be a filthy, good for nothing human.

Metzli scowled at the spot where the painting once hung, grinding their teeth together in anger. “If you’re thinking it was an abnormal thing, I doubt it. It smells…too human,” They admitted, thinking out loud so that the two could collaborate together. “Don’t know why an abnormal entity would want such a human thing. The only thing it’s worth is money in most people’s eyes. Then again, they need money too.”

“Ravens?” Marley asked, standing back up and glancing around once more. “Just normal ones or--” she lifted her hands for air quotes-- “ravens.” There were quite a few supernatural species’ that it could be, if it were ravens, but Marley wasn't’ versed in the more critter-like beings. But corvids were her favorite type of bird, so she knew enough about them and the ones that shared the same world as her. A brow rose. “Smells human?” There were a few species that could smell well, vampire and werewolf among them. Marley wasn’t exactly excited to have to deal with a moody maneater, though, if that was the case.

“Not sure a human could’ve walked in here in broad daylight and not leave behind a trace,” she pointed out. “Could’ve been motivated personally. Maybe they really like the piece, or maybe they just really don’t like you. Made any enemies in town yet?”

Metzli quirked their head in curiosity. Marley definitely smelled off, but they couldn’t quite place what species she was yet. “Valravyns. Wouldn’t get off my ass for weeks.” They answered truthfully. “Took a bit of research but I finally figured out what they were and got rid of ‘em.” Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, dismissing the event as if it were a typical thing. 

“Haven’t made very many enemies yet. Give me a few more months though. I’ve kept to myself for the most part. You’d be surprised how well prepared these humans can be in this place. Especially since they’re surrounded.” Metzli didn’t particularly care for humans, but they especially didn’t care for human art criminals. And with such a prestigious piece of work on the line, they were ready to kill. 

“I’m assuming they did this in the middle of the night. But what do I know? You’re the detective.”

“Valravyns? You had valravyns on you?” Marley asked, a bit surprised. She hadn’t encountered too many of them in White Crest, but it wasn’t that rare, really. It wasn’t them, though, then. Valravyns had no need for a painting. She didn’t have her duster with her, but that might not be necessary. She held out her hand. “Get me some tape,” she demanded, “clear, if you have it.” There were other ways to dust for fingerprints, and find the proof she was looking for. If nothing showed up, it was likely supernatural. 

“Where are all the doors? That’s the front entrance, is there a backdoor? If they picked the lock, which they must’ve if no alarms went off, I’ll be able to tell.” And if it was a human, it’d be easy enough to tell. 

“Yes, the cretins ruined a bit of my business, but they’re no longer an issue. Must’ve eaten a body I ate first.” They thought aloud, and mentally shrugged. “Okay, your majesty, I’ll get that for you.” Metzli mocked a little, showing the side that disliked authority and being commanded. 

Due to the activities necessary to run an art gallery and be a curator, they were prepared and retrieved clear, artist grade tape for Marley.

Watching as she worked, they answered, “Front entrance, back entrance, and a large delivery door. But that one only has a lock on the inside.” Metzli appreciated the transparency of Marley’s investigation. Her thinking out loud helped them put everything together alongside her. Piecing everything together fueled their anger and they growled. “Will you actually let me get a piece of them before contacting your friends? Or can I actually take the trash out? That’s what I’m used to doing.”

It was becoming increasingly clear what kind of person Metzli was. Marley used to be that way, she supposed. Cold, closed off, angry with and at humans. Maybe she still was like that, some days. If a human knew what she was, what she did, they would hate her, call her a monster. And maybe she was, and maybe she’d been leaning into that for a while now, but it still hurt, sometimes. Here they were, the two of them, so human looking, but probably so far from it. She peeled the tape away and stuck it to the wall near where the edge of the painting would have been, then did it with a few more pieces, lining them up on the edge of a stand before examining each one in turn. “There’s definitely prints here,” she said, “human. Let’s check the front and back doors, see if anything matches.” 

She paused at Metzli’s last questions. Marley hadn’t killed anyone in a while, and this was a case that the police could actually get their grubby hands on and punish the culprit. But what good had they been to her lately? Through broken ribs and interdimensional portals and a crushed skull, they had told her she couldn’t be the detective she used to be. Marley stood up and brushed the front of her jacket off. “Friends? Oh, I don’t have any friends at the precinct. Obviously, you happened to find the culprit before I did. Maybe I wasn’t even here,” she shrugged, “maybe justice took it upon itself to deal with this.”

Marley was quickly becoming a character that Metzli liked. A cop that was not only supernatural, but absolutely willing to throw away the rule book. Good. Rules were meant to be broken anyway. Or so the vampire believed. They caught on easily to what Marley was implying and appreciated her offer. “Justice is funny that way. Coming and going at the most opportune times. I do like your style, Marley.” They smiled wickedly and began walking back towards the back entrance. “I doubt they used the front to break in. Too much foot and car traffic to be discreet. Let’s check back here.”

Expensive shoes clacked on the white tile floor, and hands were clasped behind their back. Anger still brewed within, but with a plan and distinct goal, Metzli’s anger was much more structured. Vampiric hands would rip apart the criminals and they’d retrieve the artwork, and maybe they’d have a friend to join in on the fun. “When we catch this imbecile, or even imbeciles, will you be partaking in the justice?” They asked rather excitedly. Killing alongside someone was something they actually missed about being in a clan. The teamwork could and would always get fun.

Marley followed Metzli towards the back door, holding onto the tape as she did, stopping at the door and wrapping a few pieces around it to try and lift some more prints. As she worked, she was relatively quiet, listening to what her companion was saying. She was still uncertain of Metzli’s species, but she supposed it was something that preyed on humans. They all sort of did, didn’t they? That’s what made them monsters. She pulled the tape away and found more prints. “Looks like your human theory is panning out.” She held the tape up before depositing it on the stand next to her. She pulled the door open and checked around the outside, examining the ground, the wall, the space in the alley. 

A smile spread across her own lips as she stood up. It was never the hunt that excited her, but the chase. In that way, she supposed, perhaps they’d make a good team. The hunter and the killer. She glanced back at Metzli. “Depends, I suppose,” she shrugged, “I can probably get what I need from them without bloodshed. I’ll save that part for you.” She supposed just finding them might even provide her enough fear to feed from. She pointed down the alley. “Footprints, leading this way. You good?”

Having their theory proven correct seemed like it was a given to them. Of course it was correct. They’d lived long enough to know, to smell when an event was done by a human. “Figured as much. Though it’s nice to have it confirmed by a professional such as you.” Metzli said politely, and with no indication of the thoughts they carried internally. Pleasantries needed to continue if Marley was going to help them. That and she seemed like genuine fun. Fun people deserve pleasantries. At least the people they deemed fun. 

“Blood will be all mine if that’s the case. Preferred too. It tastes best when the feeding is full of vengeance. I’ll leave the chase to you and reap the reward. But by the sounds of it, we’ll both benefit from this.” They peered down the direction Marley pointed and nodded. “I’m good. Getting excited, actually. The fun part starts now it seems.” 

Metzli could smell them now. They could smell the trail growing stronger, the scent matching exactly what was in the gallery. “You’re right. Let’s head down this way. Can’t stay too long in the sun though. I try not to do it for more than twenty minutes.” It wasn’t likely that they’d stay out very long, but they wanted to be on the safe side. Watching enough crime shows, Metzli figured they’d find some sort of tire tracks from the getaway vehicle.

“Oh, you’re so very welcome,” Marley deadpanned, “I live to validate others.” She adjusted her sunglasses before they headed out into the sunlight, feeling it drag on her once again, longing for the shadows that clung too close to the walls. The mention of sunlight and blood clicked it together in Marley’s brain-- Metzli was a vampire. That checked out. They had the brooding, grumpy facade down. She wondered what might lie beneath that, or if they still had that shiny, fun thing called a soul. She’d met enough vampires-- soulless and not-- in her life to not care much either way for them. They were the lucky ones, after all-- they’d been human once before. They understood what they lost. Marley had never been human, only forced to pretend to be. She would never know what that felt like.

“Don’t worry,” she tapped the side of her head, “nothing escapes my eyes.” Even in the shadows, her vision was perfect. The steps led not to a car, but an old abandoned building. A warehouse. Marley peered through one of the broken windows and found a truck inside. It was loaded with more than just the painting. “Smugglers,” she announced quietly, pointing inside. “Looks like you’ll get your meal and dessert, if you want it.”

Metzli couldn’t help but laugh at Marley’s sarcasm. She was a total delight, and they enjoyed her personality greatly. “God, you’re a lot of fun. After this, I think I’ll buy you some drinks if you’re up for it.” They offered, fully meaning every word. People like Marley weren’t easy to find, and if they could befriend her, they felt like they could make their life that much more exciting. “If more people were like you, this place would be better and I’d probably have more friends.”

It was true, they firmly that. The compliment was rare in that it was genuine and honest. “Son of a bitch.” Metzli peered inside, needing to look away before they lost whatever composure they had collected. “What do you get out of these humans anyway, if not the blood or meat?” They asked, wanting to focus on something else now. The urge to explode was too great to think about what was inside the warehouse. 

Avoiding the subject was no use, though. And they began to fume internally. Smugglers. Fucking smugglers bested them! Not for long though. Metzli was sure they’d get the last laugh. They were going to savor every drop.

At that, Marley had to smirk. A rare display of emotion crossing her face. It wasn’t that she tried to seem so blase and deadpanned, but she couldn’t really help it at this point, it was just how she was. Except around certain people. She used to savor the thought of killing, especially those who thought they could get away with abusing their power. Smugglers weren’t exactly in her repertoire, but there was a sheen about this one that made Marley almost able to feel the smuggness. If they weren’t careful, they’d expose a side of this town no one wanted to know about. Therefore, they needed to be stopped.

“Wanna watch and find out?” she grinned, maliciously, before removing her sunglasses and pulling the door open. The shadows were her home and she nearly faded into them, wishing it were darker, even. Nighttime was her home, but these would do for now.

The clack of her boots alerted one man. She didn’t have the ability to sense or smell which one was the painting smuggler, but she didn’t really care. All he had to do was look into her eyes as she smiled and waved and he crumpled to the ground. It was nice to be back, she supposed. She hadn’t been able to drop someone like this in months. His fear tasted like salty candy and she liked her lips. The man in the car hopped out, fumbling for his weapon. “Oh, good,” she said, standing up straight, hovering over the screaming man, “seconds.”

Watching Marley work was like watching a beautiful live art piece. A personal show just for Metzli to marvel in. The men dropped like flies, a striking show of her power that made their mouth hang slightly open. As thoughts raced in their mind, they tried to figure out just what Marley was until they put it together. A Mara. A sweet, dangerous, and efficient Mara. It took a few moments, but they gathered themselves enough to remove their suit jacket and dress shirt so they they wouldn’t get blood on them. Pants and binders were easy enough to replace. Suit jackets were the expensive part. 

Leaping forward, Metzli’s face contorted to bare their now showing fangs. A predatory show of power and the fate that was to befall the criminals. Screams bellowed from their first victim. Blood gushed as they tore through arteries and consumed, quickly leaping onto the next victim. “You really know how to put on a show.” They said with bloodied lips. Making a mess didn’t matter, not right now. Not when scum was being taken care of and no one would miss them. 

“Who knew a mara and a vampire could work so well together?” Another bite into a man, who’s groans were fading into nothingness.

Marley stepped back, sliding her glasses back on, as she allowed Metzli to partake in her prize. Honestly, she wished it had been harder, but humans were often careless, and with a bloodhound vampire on her side, finding them had been easy. She stuffed her hands in her pockets as she watched the bloodshed and wondered if she should feel bad. What would Erin think of her? They were criminals, though, and they needed to be stopped. It stood to reason that they were probably even part of a larger ring, but she could worry about that later. Maybe it would even lead her to a supernatural body sitting at the top, extorting humans and human objects to make money in a town that already took so much from others. She frowned.

“I’m nothing if not dramatic,” she said, raising a brow. Where she was quiet and restrained, barely lifting a finger to drop her prey, Metzli was messy and efficient, reveling in their kill. Marley admired it, a little. A mara could not sip blood from a body, but stealing breath was just as tantalizing. “Must be our collective appreciation of the night,” she went on, coming over to the dead body Metzli was still drinking from. She prodded him with her foot. “Guess they got their comeuppance, huh? Feel better? Bet your paintings right here in the back.”

Both hunger and the thirst for vengeance had been sated. Getting rid of the bodies would come later, as Metzli knew the warehouse was clearly abandoned. Cleanup could easily be done under the cover of the night. “Presentation and drama  has always mattered to me, so I appreciate your showmanship. Much cleaner than mine, but I like to represent brutal strength. It’s messy, but fun.” Blood covered lips smiled, finally done feeding. Their lips were then promptly wiped by the back of Metzli’s arm. “I feel almost euphoric, thank you.”

Taking a moment, they took in a big gulf of air and practically ripped open the big crate they smelled the painting in. Metzli eyed the box, noticing they were just about ready to ship everything. “We got here right on time. Looks like they were packing everything to ship. Probably a much bigger organization. Art theft is common thanks to the money in it.” The painting was surrounded by packing materials to prevent any wear and tear, but it was all the wrong materials. “Fucking idiots,” Metzli spat angrily, splintering the wood underneath their hands. “What now, anyway?” They decided to distract themselves with whatever Marley had to say for now. 

“Hence why you’re an artists, huh?” Marley chuckled. Sometimes people were pretty transparent, and she didn’t mind that. While mystery intrigued Marley, sometimes she didn’t mind having the answers presented to her. Sometimes it was a relief not to have to psycho-analyze everyone and everything, even if her brain never shut off about it. She took in a deep breath, almost sighing when the fear in the air dissipated, signaling the death of both men. She was almost disappointed but it was a satisfying snack and she could grab a real meal later, under the cover of dark. “Brutal strength is something to display. I prefer the more...subtle method.” 

She strolled over behind Metzli as they tore into the truck, and the crate that held their prized possession. The Murakami painting. Admittedly, Marley had no idea who that was. Art wasn’t much of an interest of hers, but she could appreciate it all the same. “Not damaged, is it?” she asked, tilting her head. “Don’t think I have enough to compensate for that if it is.” She rolled the idea around in her head. “Well...I doubt anyone’s coming back here. When the shipment doesn’t show up, whoever was expecting it is likely to come looking. So we can do one of two things--” she lifted her hand, two fingers raised. “Clean up this mess and leave them wonder what happened. Oooorr--” she drew out the word, a wicked smile curling up her lips-- “we come back and wait for them to find the mess. Take a real meal.” And maybe she was a little excited to have someone gawk at her abilities again. It wasn’t every day you got to watch someone suffocate on air.

Marley was intriguing Metzli in all the right ways. She had not only gotten them a large meal, but helped them locate the painting. For once, they wanted to make sure someone was repaid appropriately. “Subtle is a valid route. And no, no damage done. There would have been though. The idiots don’t know how to properly package shit.” Hands waved to the packing nuts they used, the only thing they used. It was an insult to any artist of notoriety. 

Fingers tapped as thoughts swirled in Metzli’s head. Both options were great, amazing even. “God, you’re so full of good ideas. I like the meal option. We can even prepare to cater to us, and maybe get you that fear you actually want.” Working with someone was out of character, but Marley made it hard to pass up the opportunity. She was just too fun and so powerful. Things that Metzli could actually admire in a person, and they had no problem admitting that to her. “What do you say we do that, and with my gallery so close, I’ll keep an eye on the place. Keep you updated. We do make one hell of a team. Deal?” Their hand extended, ready to shake Marley’s. It was a really good idea, one that both of them can get behind happily.  

“Good,” Marley nodded, even if she hadn’t actually planned to compensate for anything. It wasn’t her job to do that, but it had felt nice to actually have done some part of her job. She missed it, fuck, she missed it. But until her seizures were under control, the Captain still wasn’t letting her into the field. Yet she’d done this perfectly fine, even caught the culprits and was planning on coming back to finish the job. She ruffled her brows. “Better get that back to your gallery, before someone else shows up. Maybe get some better security, too.” 

She waited patiently for Metzli’s answer, pleased at the idea that they thought so highly of her. “Deal,” she answered, without hesitation, reaching out to take their hand. It was cold, and even if she’d expected it, it was still strange to feel. People were usually warm, even she was warm. But she gave them a firm handshake before nodding at them. “You keep an eye out and just gimme a call when you see something, yeah? I can be there in a jiffy. I always feel much better at night. Don’t you?”

Metzli let out a laugh, enjoying Marley’s input to the conversation. She seemed like she had just as much fun as they did, and were excited to do it again. “Yes, I do. Thank you again, Marley. I’ll be seeing you soon for a night of fun.” Picking up their clothes after wiping their hands on the gentleman’s clothes, Metzli made their way back to the gallery, but before doing so, they stopped at the warehouse entrance. “You really are a creature to marvel at. I’m looking forward to watching your little show again.” With that, they disappeared into the alleyway.