#but as a monster and a threat and a predator and to continue anyway. is all

[collegeoflore]

i just think there’s no point if he’s not a little scary is all. he just needs to be kind of freaky.

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 4 (Teratophilia)

Deadite!Ellie (Evil Dead Rise) x Reader (NSFW)

(1,351 words)

Summary: You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that having sex with the demonic version of your neighbor is dangerous.

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, dead dove do not eat (seriously, this shit gets BANANAS), graphic depictions of violence, viewing the aftermath of a murder scene, stabbing, blasphemy (kinda), head trauma, breaking in, dubcon (ish), Ellie being mean, sadism, biting, scratching, monster fucking, oral sex

Notes: MAGGOT MOMMY <3 I had her specifically in mind for this one. I saw this with my friends over the summer and they thought I was CRAZY bc I said I could fix her LMAO anyway, enjoy the fic!!!

-

You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing the loud thuds of people running and falling outside your door is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing screams, bloodcurdling enough to know there was a threat is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that several gunshots, sending loud enough bangs to make your ears ring, is dangerous. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that hearing laughter, full of malice, is dangerous.

So when you decided to peek your head out the door only to be met with the dead bodies of your neighbors, splayed out and bloodied across the hallway, you knew your horror movie knowledge wouldn’t be able to save you now.

The scent of death wafted around the hallway. Blood poured from the bodies of your poor neighbors. You were grateful to be situated at the other end of the hall, if you had a closer view to the emptied chasms of their insides, you were sure you would be sick.

At the end of the hallway stood Ellie. She looked dead. Her skin was pale, littered with bruises and cuts. Her deep red hair was matted. She was covered in blood.

Ellie? There is no way she could’ve done something like this. She was kind, always making sure to hold the elevator for others when they were running late. She took no-nonsense from anyone or anything. She had three children to take care of- all of whom you saw were being raised to be good people. She knew the neighbors. She knew you. She wouldn’t have done this to them.

Or at least that’s what you thought until you saw her prowl down the hallway. What you saw, wasn’t the Ellie you recognized. It seemed as if all her bones were broken, and put together the wrong way. Somehow, she moved like a wounded animal, but also like a dangerous predator. The sound of her heels dragging and scuffing against the floor along with the garbled coughs of your dying neighbors was a sound that was sure to stick with you for as long as you lived- which you assumed wouldn’t be much longer. As Ellie continue to stalk closer to your door, decided that if you were about to die, you wouldn’t go down easy.

Slamming your door and locking it, you arm yourself with a kitchen knife, and begin to pray. You can hear the thud of her footsteps stop. For a brief moment, you feel relief, until loud and heavy pounding starts to come directly at your door.

“God won’t save you now.” A hoarse, demonic, almost inhuman sounding voice taunts from the other side of the door. Mustering enough courage to look through the peephole, Ellie stares at you. Sunken, black circles surrounded her eyes, looking bruised and bloodied. Her eyes were no longer the bright blue you had seen flash you kind glances in the past, but a ghostly, milky white. Dead. Lifeless. Yet, there she stood outside your apartment, staring back out you through the peephole with a crooked and menacing grin.

“It’s so pathetic,” she says blankly. “Praying as if you think you’re going to make it out of here…” You grip your knife tighter. “As if God can even hear you.”

“Jesus, Ellie,” you reply, hushed. “What the fuck happened to you? You don’t look so good.”

“Ellie’s rotting in hell with the rest of your sack of shit neighbors!” She shrieks. You look away from the peephole as Ellie reels back and continuously slams her head against the door. The wood begins to splinter and crack, and you can only watch in horror as the woman you once called your neighbor, makes her way into your only safe haven.

“Mommy’s home.” She drawls distortedly. She sets her sights on you, creeping over surprisingly quick where you can feel her, just inches away from your skin.

Jamming your knife into the side of her skull, she pauses for a moment. Did you get her? Is she dead? You get your answer soon enough as she pulls the knife from her head and slams it right next your hand where she has you backed up on your kitchen table. Despite the dread churning in your stomach, the proximity of her body so close to yours was enough to spike your arousal, as well as fear.

“Such a pitiful sight,” she teases, as you feel the air of her breath on your neck. You let out an involuntary whimper, cheeks beginning to heat up. Ellie sees this and barks out a cruel laugh. Her hands move across your body, clawing and grabbing at every crevice. “You are such a coward,” she chides. “Letting a monster feel you up.” She was right and all you could do was nod. “I know you’d do anything to stay alive, right?” Her voice drops to a sweet tone. It’s sick to hear such a scary and mocking voice have such a sweet tone.

“…Yes” you grit out, shaking.

“It’s always the sluts like you that make the most delicious screams.” She smiles wickedly, before violently kissing and biting at your chest. Your shirt is practically torn open as Ellie pushes you down and pins you to the table.

Moving your hands up to touch her, Ellie painfully slams your hands above your head, back to the table. Her mouth continues wandering down your chest, teeth grazing over your nipple, threatening to bite. Your breath hitches, and you let out a pained moan when she finally does. Her teeth sink down on the sensitive flesh, and she does nothing but laugh as you writhe around her.

Her nails rake down the rest your body, surely hard enough to leave a mark. You let out a moan of relief when she unattaches from your chest. She sinks down to your arousal, ripping off the pants of your legs with terrifying ease.

“You are one sick, disgusting fuck,” She sighs with false disappointment. “So fucking horny while your neighbors die all around you…” The shame washes over you, but Ellie’s ministrations as she teases you through your underwear make it hard for you to focus on anything other than getting off. “I can smell how much you’re enjoying this, you pathetic whore.”

You let out a whine as Ellie coaxes you right to the edge, stopping just before the point of no return. She sinks down, spreading your legs, leaving you splayed out on your kitchen table.

“You must be completely fucking stupid if you think I would let you off that easily.” She jabs. Pulling off your underwear, you lay there on your table, while a feral, monstrous version of your neighbor starts to violently go down on you.

Her tongue is fast as it swipes over you. She’s messy and rough, leaving no spot untouched, chuckling and murmuring filthy phrases into your sex. Your back arches and you grip the edge of the table, white-knuckled, whimpering shamelessly. The table begins to shake as her arms sling over your legs, holding you down. Her grip is harsh, marks sure to be left behind. She bites into your inner thigh, which only further spurs on your wanton feelings, starting to reach the edge.

Looking over to your side, the bloodied knife stares back at you. In the midst of your euphoric high, you hatch an idea to stab this demonic version of Ellie while distracted, give you time to possibly escape.

You don’t have much time to waste. When your orgasm quickly washes over you, Ellie gets up, spying the knife as you swing it up. She catches it, blade going directly through her hand. In your hazy state, she smilies back out you with that same malice she’s had this whole time.

“Aw,” she taunts. “Did you really think that stabbing me again would put me down?” There’s that sadistic sweetness in her voice. She drops the act almost immediately, lunging at you with her hand around your throat. “That was a naughty trick, and naughty behavior deserves to be punished.”

[basuralindo]

You'll Have Me Rise chapter 21 is up!

Hey look, proof that I didn't forget about this!

Another huge thanks to @kamikazequail for editing!

As usual, babble under the cut

-Fun fact! Waves breaking have a very different sound from underwater, and it's more similar to the white noise of a manic episode (in my experience). So, the sound in Floyd's head is supposed to be more like a semi-rhythmic hissing/grinding/static -also kinda similar to leaves in the wind. It's not the only sound that happens, but it's a common backdrop to more acute points in an episode.

-Another common type of auditory hallucination for me is certain important environmental noises? If that makes sense? Like doorbells or phones ringing or people calling for me -shit that you have to keep an ear out for, but especially sharper sounds like doorbells/alarms/certain ringtones. Point being, it was fun to come up with plausible environmental sounds that might stick with a merman, and whales were definitely one of the most interesting. You can hear their calls from ridiculous distances with varying levels of clarity, while up close they're crazy loud. And sperm whales are known to dive into the abyssal zone to hunt things in the size range of the tweels' mer forms, so that's actually a legitimate sound for him to be vigilant about. (personally, when I zone out too much and get lost in the chatter, I get some random male voice shouting HEY into my ear. which isn't like, a voice I recognize or any kind of specific threat. sometimes it's really not that deep, but I had to pick something plausible that could make startling loud noises underwater, so that kinda narrowed it down to cetaceans, and there aren't many that you'd regularly encounter in far northern abyssal zones)

-Okay so ever since Azul's reaction to the gargoyle in glorious masquerade, I haven't been able to let go of the idea that merpeople would have to be hyper vigilant about camouflaged predators in their environment, right? The ocean hosts so many ambush predators after all, and they especially tend to imitate rocks and soft corals, so I wanted to incorporate that residual caution in the fish gang. 

-On a related note; most fish have a sensory organ dedicated to detecting minute vibrations and changes in pressure, with some specialized to detect electrical impulses (also, some marine predators use weak electrical impulses to detect prey). Sooo I'm just kinda… adding that to mermaid evolution here. I think it'd be neat if the octatrio's ability to both sneak up on and detect Jamil had to do with him unknowingly using magic similar to the marine predators that the trio evolved to detect and avoid.

-Continuing the fish topic: Since sound doesn't travel the same underwater, mermaid language would have to be different from anything humans speak, right? I picture them using whatever human language is most practical in their region (for simplicity I'm going with english here, since the northern coral sea seems to be near the rose kingdom? and because english tends to be pretty pervasive) as a standard secondary language for trade and any out of water speech (like air pockets and shit). But anyway, the rest of the time it's dolphin type whistles and clicks and those low gravely sounds that fish apparently make.

-Okay. Look. You can pry the idea of Floyd's romantic streak from my cold dead fingers. He's canonly very observant and there's some hints that he can be considerate when he wants to be, and most importantly I think it's cute. Picture him listening to music and daydreaming about his crush.

I think this story really isn't about them all bringing out the humanity in each other. I think they all see themselves as monsters, and they see that part of themselves in each other, and it makes them feel real in a way that the world tries to sweep away. It's a common ground that makes them feel at home together. Like evidence that they're not built wrong and need to fix something, but that they're built for each other and don't need to change for the rest of the world. They don't need to be good or deserve good things in order to deserve each other.

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Roiling Oil

CR 6

Neutral Large Ooze

Bestiary 5, pg. 210

These gigantic, reeking predators are the result of magic contaminating large volumes of pitch or, more dangerously, stores of alchemist’s fire, meaning they come into being underneath industrial environments more often than not. Looking like little more than mundane puddles of tar as they move, adventurers--and innocent civilians--who come across them may not realize they’re looking at a living creature until a portion of it peels from the floor and begins to throttle them. Due to its glacial movement--10ft, plus 10ft of climb speed--it relies, like many Oozes, on exactly that happening. Oozes in general tend to work best as obstacles sitting between players and an objective they need to get to, as each one tends to have both slow speed and the pains of mindlessness, meaning it’s not particularly likely to chase a party that flees and instead will just seek easier meals.

“Meals” in this case being fats and most bodily fluids. Victims of a Roiling Oil are typically drained of blood, bile, and various fats, leaving behind stinking piles of half-digested tissues and mangled bones, a far cry from the scoured-clean surfaces most Oozes leave. You’d think a creature made mostly of oil and grease would stink to high heaven, but the unfortunate truth is that Roiling Oils build up a thick film over their bodies while idle that restrains their most wretched odors, so unsuspecting players only smell mundane tar; this film only breaks when they lash out with their pseudopod and initiative is rolled. They only get one attack a round, but it’s a painful one dealing 3d6+15 damage and spattering foes with thick, clinging, foul-smelling sludge.

Any creature damaged by the slimy limb is nauseated for 1d4+1 rounds, with a DC 19 Fortitude save only reducing the nausea to 1 round... Which, obviously, means nothing if you’re just going to get slapped every round anyway. Though it mercifully lacks any way to hold its prey in place, the nausea will still prevent most creatures from fighting back against the Oil. Even ones that can either power through or ignore the nausea (or simply avoid the blow) find out its viscous body can only really be damaged by slashing weapons, as everything else runs into its DR 10.

“But wait,” you hear the party Sorcerer say, “it’s called Roiling Oil, right? And it smells flammable!” A deep, hideous dread creeps into your stomach and you can’t place why. Your ears ring as the Sorcerer says “Scorching Ray!” And then your world goes black. In a cruel prank crafted by Paizo, Roiling Oils are immune to both Fire and Electricity damage, and exposure to even a single point of either damage type causes the thing’s thick film coat to go off like a bomb, dealing 5d6 Fire damage to everything in a 20ft radius. Now transformed into a Rolling Inferno, the Ooze loses its nauseating slime but gains +2d6 Fire damage on its slam, which also sets the victim on fire for 2d6 additional Fire damage every round. If that weren’t enough, the Rolling Inferno also puts of thick, choking smoke that grants it total concealment unless you’re standing right next to it, but in a further cruel twist the smoke is actually very slightly smaller than its actual threat radius (10ft of space + 10ft of reach versus the smog cloud’s 15ft radius), so if you’re close enough to negate its total concealment you’re close enough to be thrashed by its flaming limbs. Of course, being an Ooze with blindsight, it’s completely unimpeded by the smog.

The Oil isn’t even inconvenienced by its new ignited state, taking no damage from the explosion or its burning body, and will continue to attack anything it views as prey as the fires boil away everything it wants to eat. Any amount of Cold damage or even a meager Gust of Wind will put out the fire, as will waiting 1 minute for the blaze to die down on its own, but any further exposure to Fire or Electricity refreshes the duration (without causing another explosion, thankfully), and water won’t do anything to quell the flames (because it’s a grease fire). In the initial panic following the sudden and dramatic explosion, players might not realize what they need to do, or that the flaming ooze isn’t dying, before it’s already knocked one of them to death’s door and set the whole damn room on fire. Or worse, burned up the quest objective!

You can read more about them here.

[wheelercore]

Henry and Jason's Monologues: Are They Mirrors of One Another?

Also, as usual, will make this about rosegate/the wheelers (threat).

Anyways, the show has never shied away from making the point that abusers/ bigots are the real "predators" and this is done repeatedly by Hawkins itself being contrasted with the monster-filled UD. In the same vein, Jason's monologue in the church is paralled to a portion of Henry's monologue (Henry's monologue is way too fucking long man).

The biggest irony here is that while Jason was scapegoating the Hellfire club, full of what he would be considered "freaks", the true evil he was hunting was... a reflection of himself.

I didn't utilize screenshots because there is a 30 image limit on text posts but I have the transcripts of both monologues here from the scripts. It's hard to tell because I've broken them up into excerpts, but the monologues are very similar structurally. As in the themes/sections I laid out here follow one another in the same way for both speeches, so it seems intentional. Both excerpts have a theme of seeing a truth under a lie, the spread of a "disease" that both Jason and Henry respectively find intolerable, and the belief that they are both morally "good". there are similarities in word usage:

A spread of something pervasive and intolerable

Jason:

"We've all heard how satanic cults are spreading through our country like some… some disease. And Eddie Munson is the leader of one of these cults. A cult that operates here in Hawkins. The mall fire. All those unexplained deaths over the years. Some people say our town is cursed. They just don't know why."

Henry:

"You see, humans are a unique type of pest, multiplying and poisoning our world, all while enforcing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure. Where others saw order, I saw a straitjacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die. Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play, day after day."

(The "unnatural" structures that Henry is talking about here are religious- specifically Christian since this is set in small town America- structures. This is paralleled to Jason talking about the spread of satanic cults via DnD)

Feelings of hopelessness as it spreads

Jason:

"And now this cult is protecting its leader, Eddie. Hiding him. Allowing him to… to continue his rampage. Last night, I became overcome with this feeling of… of hopelessness."

Henry:

"I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join in the madness. I could not pretend."

(The intentional conflation between these DnD "cults" that Jason is afraid of and conformist Christian culture/nuclear families that Henry despises is made here again)

Their own conviction that their own actions against this force are "good"

Jason:

"Then I remembered Romans. "Do not be overcome by evil."  "But overcome evil with good." And God knows there's good in this town. So much good. It's in this room! It's in this room, right here, right now. So I came here today, humbly, to ask for your help. To join me in this fight. Let us cast out this evil and save Hawkins together."

Henry:

"And I realized I didn't have to. I could make my own rules. I could restore balance to a broken world. A predator… but for good."

(In the same way Jason wants to "cast out this evil" and save Hawkins, Henry wants to restore "balance to a broken world". Notice how Jason does not describe himself as good, but everyone in the room as good. The people that would become that mob that try to hunt down this "evil". Pack predators, but for good)

Now the one that is the most interesting to me personally:

DnD as a roleplaying game and conformity as a silly little play to hide a terrible truth behind a lie

Jason:

"Last night… Last night, I saw things, things I can't explain. Things the police don't wanna believe. And things that I don't wanna believe myself. But I know what I saw. I know. And I've come to accept an awful truth. [...] They just don't know why. Now… Now we do. Now we know. They call themselves Hellfire. A club. A club. A harmless club. That's what they want you to think. But it's a lie. A lie designed to conceal the truth."

Henry:

"Where others saw order, I saw a strait-jacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die. Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play, day after day. [...]  I could reach into others, into their minds, their memories. I became an explorer. I saw my parents as they truly were. To the world, they presented themselves as good, normal people. But like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. They had done things, Eleven. Such awful things. I showed them who they really were."

(both Jason and Henry state that they have seen through the curtain. For Jason its the supernatural, seeing Eddie for who he really is. For Henry, it's seeing through the roles people play to fit in ie. conforming to societal pressure. They both make an example out of someone. In the case for Jason, he believes that Eddie is hiding behind a "harmless" DnD roleplaying club while committing this heinous acts- the "awful truth". Henry makes an example out of his nuclear family, stating how he was able to see how his parents truly were, how they hide behind a "terrible lie"- one he equated to a silly terrible play earlier in his speech)

The mind-boggling thing? Being an explorer who saw their parents for who they truly were, parents who have done awful things and hide behind a façade of normalcy, is paralleled to Holly.

In fact the shot pans over the Wheelers when Jason states that the "harmless" club is a lie designed to conceal the truth:

In fact there are many more associations with the Wheelers in Jason's speech. "We've all heard how satanic cults are spreading through our country like some… some disease."

Wheeler women are associated with cancer

The running gag of Mike's asking if his Nana has cancer in s3

2. Karen didn't need to be in the s3 scene on the phone when Mike is lying to El about his Nana's cancer, but they did intentionally include her regardless, having her ask if something is wrong with Nana and if she's sick.

3. Jonathan describes the resentment Nancy will feel for him if she has to give up her dreams for him and the continuation of the family cycle as a cancer (which is like, Karen's whole thing)- finally spelling out to us that the cancer, in this case of unsatisfied wheeler women at least, is a metaphor for female oppression/conformity:

And then we see El in California, clad in roses choking against the rose on the creel door, which we also see Karen, Nancy, and Holly associated with, spreading the disease... through the country.

(Steve brought a bouquet of roses for Nancy in an effort to get her back in s2)

"... spreading through our country like some… some disease."

Flashback to s4e1 when Mike just arrives across the country in California, he is bringing her yellow and purple flowers, which he explicitly mentions how he chose the colors when handing it to her:

Which is familiar... the spread of the UD is repeatedly compared also to an infectious disease in s3 with Mrs. Driscoll's rats being a reference to the spread of the Bubonic Plague and Driscoll being the first to "contract" this disease straights from the "source".

Mrs Driscoll wears a shirt with purple and yellow flowers on it (and red/white), similar to the ones that Mike handed El when he got to California:

(Steve brought a bouquet of roses for Nancy in an effort to get her back in s2 and Dustin jokingly asks which Wheeler parent its for)

Mind you we see rose symbolism with other female characters also. Robin Rose Weaver, who is adorned in pink and white + pearls (like Holly also) and a flower-shaped hair accessory. Robin is uncomfortable with this look as it "not her". Tammy Thompson- implying that femininity is a "performance". Angela, who represents how women bully each other into conforming with her actions towards El. Billy's mother, who wears a red flower on her beach outfit. I spoke about it here, no need to repeat it again.

Tabitha, Suzie's sister, also shares this style while in the same style while pretending to choke, like El.

As for the Wheeler men- beyond the obvious clothing parallels, we can see conflation of Eddie and Henry's parents, who have done "awful things" but hide behind a role. Ted and Mike have paralleled serial killer references in s4, which I spoke about more extensively in this post but Ill put a bit here:

Three serial killer name drops in s4: Michael Meyers, Ted Bundy, and Freddy Krueger (predators).

In fact when they name drop Ted Bundy they conflate him with Eddie Munson. Twice in that one scene actually.

The most simple play on names is apparent here. Both Eddie and Ted are short for Edward.

(and this line which low key reminds me of the The First Shadow casting call - [GUNSHOT])

But also just the focus on the Wheeler (Nancy) when serial killers are brought up as Robin is speaking about Vecna in this scene:

Also Jason's little list of where to look for Eddie specifically says Wheeler's (apostrophe designating a short hand for saying the Wheeler home) although in the show itself there is no indication from any character or scene that Jason ever checked out the Wheeler home personally unless he counts just observing briefly it from the Sinclair's next door that morning:

Anyways, if Jason's and Henry's monologues are meant to be mirrors of one another (Eddie's DnD roleplying club as a front = Conformity/nuclear family as a role to hide a "terrible lie" and "awful things" that were done) what does this line double meaning from Jason's monologue mean to you in the context of the Wheelers?

"We've all heard how satanic cults are spreading through our country like some… some disease. And Eddie Munson is the leader of one of these cults. A cult that operates here in Hawkins.[...] A club. A club. A harmless club. That's what they want you to think. But it's a lie. A lie designed to conceal the truth [shot to the Wheelers]. And now this cult is protecting its leader, Eddie. Hiding him. Allowing him to… to continue his rampage."

Which is analogous to: "I became an explorer. I saw my parents as they truly were. To the world, they presented themselves as good, normal people. But like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. They had done things, Eleven. Such awful things."

Of course, abstractly, this is all a metaphor for how the cultural enforcement of the nuclear family only perpetuates the cycle of broken families.

Women are pressured into marrying men with no other choice -> they grow unsatisfied and resentful of their husbands for being abusive/emotionally neglectful and all the opportunities they gave up (cancer) -> an unhappy and resentful mother is not adequately there for her children emotionally -> her sons are not emotionally supported and are taught regardless that "boys dont cry" -> son then go onto marry a woman (even if he doesn't wan to) -> son mirrors his own upbringing having not unlearned it and becomes the emotionally neglectful/abusive/distant husband with an unhappy and resentful wife (infection spread) -> the cycle repeats

Interestingly enough when Nancy was vecna'd we get an interesting scene, shifting from miketed's Fred's mangled body to the rose door:

Idk about the serial killer stuff imma wait until TFS for that

But what does Lucas say at the end of s4 to Jason?

"normal's just a raging psychopath"

[art-a-la-autumn]

TW: Mentions of Grooming/Pedophilia, Sexual Predation, Suicide, use of an abuser's name, etc...

I know I have not been on Tumblr as a Genshin fan artist for long, nor do I even really have a following, but I want to go on the record of how appalled I am by Tighnari's former ENG VA's, Elliot Gindi's, actions. Tighnari was one of my favorite characters in Genshin. (I know how to separate character from actor so Tighnari technically still is my favorite character but he will be benched until they rectify his casting. This is beside the point). I am going to go at length about why Gindi's actions are inexcusable. Be warned my words may be graphic.

One of the biggest parts of Tighnari that appealed to me in the first place was his personality and by extension, the life to the character that Gindi was able to bring forth with his lines. But as a voice actor, of course he would know how to act. Many, including myself, fell for his awkward and goofy persona he wanted us to believe. And so the news left me feeling betrayed, shaking with rage and feeling like I was about to vomit - it physically hurt. If that was my reaction as a regular fan, I cant even begin to fathom the pain that the victims felt and are undoubtedly still feeling. I have the upmost respect for those who came forward despite the painful memories that would resurface, the victim blaming they could face, and also his moderators that helped make it public despite the risks, having been so close to that monster.

As a content creator, you have to set boundaries between you and your fans. There will be fans who form strong attachments to you and it is your responsibility to stop these parasocial relationship from happening. Not actively feed into them and using them to your advantage to gain sexual favors from fans, especially underage ones. Gindi broke all of these rules for his own personal gain just because he was "horny". Taking advantage of someone's naivety and claiming friendship in order to make them trust you just to take advantage of them is grooming, regardless of if they are underage of not. It applies to really young adults too. Whether he knew someone was a minor or not (which I do not believe, he definitely knew), he's still a groomer because he knew they were young regardless and used that to his advantage. His apologies and claims that he thought he was being "safe and consensual" mean nothing. The screenshots prove that what he knew what he was doing was wrong and yet he continued anyway out of personal greed because he was on a power trip: plain and simple.

And as this world continues to grow harder to live in, depression and suicidal ideations have never been higher. We don't need people like Gindi who will use threats of suicide to manipulate his victims into staying and suffering at his hand even longer. Not to get too personal, but a relative's friend committed suicide at the start of the year. IT. RUINED. THEM. I've seen how suicide affects those who are close to those who commit it. To use suicide as an ultimatum to continue abusing victims is FUCKED UP beyond belief. You "didn't think through the severity of that"? I call bullshit. Gindi knew what he was doing to to ensure maximum mental anguish to ensure he got want he wanted.

This post is already really long so I will wrap it up. This man is a grooming egocentric manipulator. He's not sorry for anything other than that he was caught. He should be in jail and away from the public so he can never hurt anyone again. I hope that hole in his wall swallows him up and sends him to hell to burn for what he's done. If you still support him after what he has done DNI. If you try to defend him, I will block you. I will not play games with anyone who wants to excuse or support the depraved crimes he has committed.

[yanderemommabean]

A silly little idea here, bear with me- 

A creature that lives with the scientist who created them, being able to blend into the public for short periods of time, falling in love and becoming obsessed with you as they continue to meet with you and just adore the company you give them, even though it’s limited. 

They turn into their true form one day, unable to stop the transformation, and you’re a witness to the horror that they actually are. They panic, not wanting you to leave them - or worse, expose their creator and send them to be experimented on. So, what do they do? 

What their instincts tell them. They attack- well, really they corner you, but you see them as an animal or predator about to murder you, which is fair enough. They manage to subdue you, however not in a favorable way- you’re scratched up, bruised and managed to sprain your ankle running away from them and forcing them to pounce on you. 

They pitifully whimper and check on you as they carry you to their home, to which their creator clicks their tongue and checks you over, assuming that their creation was becoming too dangerous. 

Then, they tell the whole story, at least what they see through their eyes, and the creator now knows what’s best for the situation at hand. It’s simple and easy! You aren’t allowed to leave. 

They explain it as if it’s the most obvious answer. “My creation has chosen you, and you’re too much of a threat to just walk out of here. Plus, they need more than just me for a companion! It’ll be healthy for them, and research for me! “ 

They shrug it off as if you weren’t just kidnapped and almost killed, taking your silence and confused and horrified expression as you agreeing. “Great! Now I’m sure you already know this but-” they lean closer, their friendly tone turned dark, ominous and serious as they grab your face “-Do anything to jeopardize my creations safety, or try to leave at all, and I’ll be sure to show you that humans are the true monsters here”. 

They straighten their posture, crack another playful smile, and gesture towards the door “Well! Now that greetings are out of the way, why don’t you show your friend you’re alright? They’ve been up all night you know!” 

Anyway-dumb idea that I wanted to make into a game or short story but It won’t happen cause I have no idea where to begin with that lmao I hope you like the idea though! Thank you my lovely beans!

-Mommabean (Ignore the typos ill fix em later)

[lemonjoonah]

Blood Bounty - Part 1 (M)

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 10K Rating: M Genre: Historical fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Thriller, Drama, Smut Warnings: Non-consensual vampire feeding (graphic, provocative, sexual, blood play, and twisted as fuck), captivation/enslavement, blood, drugging (force feeding vampire blood), obsession, violence, PTSD, at one point the OC pleads for death, it’s dark guys you’ve been warned. While the vampire feeding in this part is highly sexualized, I do have somewhat more “traditional” smut scenes planned for part 2 and 3.

| Series Masterlist |

Summary: He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.

A/N: This mini-series is a loose retelling of Anastasia, you’ll find it to be very different from the animated film. I attempted to blend both the history and the story together in a new historical fantasy world that is not our own. Anyway I hope you enjoy the start to my three part twisted tale, and if you have any questions at the end please feel free to send them my way! Also a big thank you to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi​ and @ladyartemesia​. This story wouldn’t have made it this far without you!

This story is dedicated to all of those who have lost themselves to a monster (of any form) at some point in their life. I know the journey back to yourself can be hard, but trust me, you are worth every effort. 

...  

From the break of dawn you’ve crossed miles of ground, traversing through grassy fields and deep rivers. Accompanied only by the clothes on your back, a stake in your hand, and a pair of boots far too big for your feet, all stolen during your hastened departure. 

You consider yourself lucky after making it out unseen. Lucky that Taehyung had left his fortress of a castle, lucky that he took most of his capable progenies with him, lucky that the underling who tended to your room left the fire iron within your reach, and lucky that it was able to break the chain of the shackle fastened around your wrist. You left as soon as daylight broke. With everything working in your favour for your escape, even acquiring your captor’s clothes and cap to pass off as a young man. For sightings of a woman travelling alone might tip off those you would rather avoid.  

But now, with your heels raw and bloody, it would seem that your good fortune has finally run out, as the smell will no doubt attract his hunters. You curse your carelessness, for the number of times Taehyung has complimented you for your most potent scent. You’ve witnessed it yourself, a single whiff of your blood during his feedings having sent several of his men into a frenzy. This unfortunate blessing left you to be seen as a bounty, condemning you to his captivity, and now the struggle as you flee for your life. 

You attempt to clean the broken skin and stem the flow with strips torn from your tunic. The fine piece of clothing is barely recognizable after the paces you’ve put it through today. With the extra fabric now wedged into your boots you can only hope that it’ll make your journey tomorrow easier, and detain much of the scent that would allow them to track you. 

You wish that you could continue on tonight, but the darkness of the wood, your sores, and your fatigue impede your plans. You’ve gained ground but the lack of settlements must mean that you still lie within his realm. With your memories stolen in an effort to keep you at his side you have little to go on but a tapestry that hung in his den. It showed a city to the east, beyond the boundary of his land, and what is hopefully your home. But with the woven display having no proper scale you have no idea how long it will take to actually leave his territory. Freedom could be hours or days away.  You can only hope that the rivers you’ve traversed will keep them at bay until you can find a safer place to stay. Their weaknesses are all you have to lean on to prevent recapture, but will it be enough?

After tending to your feet you settle in the nook of a tree, leaning your head against the mossy trunk. Your stomach growls but you have no food to feed it, nor a blanket to dismiss the chilling wind which forces a shiver from you. Your deflated spirit is made even worse when a raven takes notice of your poor state. It circles overhead, undoubtedly looming with the hopes that you have given in, and that he too can feast on you. 

Ignoring the omen, you close your eyes, directing your focus instead on the surrounding sounds of the forest, listening for anything that might be a predator making an approach. Despite an exhausting day you still are wary of sleep, knowing what will greet you as you drift off, and concern of someone, or something catching up to you once you do. You rest there for what must be an hour, debating with yourself the advantages slumber, before you hear the snap of a nearby twig. Your fingers drift to the wooden stake on the ground next to you, your movement is slow hoping to escape the notice of whatever might be drawing closer. The footsteps which crunch on the leaves continue to advance on your position. There’s no running now, all you can do is play ignorance until they are in range for you to act.

When a hand reaches down and tilts the brim of your hat, you open your eyes, driving your weapon up in an aim to strike, but your assailant is too quick for you. He catches your arm in an iron grip, much like the remains of the manacle that still holds your other wrist. Though his face is hidden by the dark of night and his frame draped in a long coat, there is no doubt about what he is, and what he’s come for, his speed in stopping you was far too fast to be human.

“Be still,” the monster growls. “It’s me, Yoongi. Are you hurt?”

His concern is almost laughable. His implication of a connection likely a trap, one intent on luring you in, with a motive to end the hunt. “Not if you leave me be.” You attempt to press the stake towards him still, but he barely even registers your efforts. 

“Have you forgotten me?” The beast’s grip tightens on your arm as he dismisses your threat, taking the stake in his own hand before he pulls you up while he continues his deception, “I know that to be what I asked for, but I didn’t think... no, it matters not. ” He shakes his head as his words trail off. His voice then returns resolute and firm once he changes thoughts. “Come, we must get you somewhere safe.”

You dig your heels into the ground as he attempts to pull you along, clawing at his fingers until they release you. “I’m not going anywhere with you vampire. You will not take me back to him, anywhere is safer than there.”

“I am not taking you back, but we must leave. They’ve already placed a large bounty on you and these parts will be flooded with hunters soon.” 

“How can I be sure you’re not one of those hunters?” You make an attempt to retake the stake, showing you have no intention of complying with him. But he pulls it back, holding it just out of your grasp.

“You will have to take me at my word, I am not of Taehyung’s kin and I have no plans on handing you back over to him. Now if you please, I can either escort you to safety, or take you there by force.”

“I don’t trust you.” You glare back at him.

“Very well,” the vampire sighs, tossing your wooden weapon aside, putting it far beyond your reach. He then bends down, throwing you easily over his shoulder, and thereby ending the argument over your fate. Your fists collide with his back several times in an effort to make him release you, but he doesn’t appear bothered by the attack. You draw breath ready to call out when he stops you with a quick jostle. His shoulder lays into your abdomen knocking the wind from your lungs. “You may hit me all you want, but do not scream. I would rather not alert others to our location.”

Could he really not be someone sent by Taehyung’s underlings? Regardless, even if he is, you don’t have the strength to over power him. There’s little you can do but lay like a rag doll propped over his shoulder, with his arm hooked on the back of your knees. 

He hauls you over to a break in the trees, one which leads out to the road where a horse waits patiently for him. You’re thankful when he seats you on the saddle rather than throwing you on your stomach once again. With the full light of the moon on the open dirt road, you’re finally able to see his face properly. His soft and sombre expression is a drastic difference compared to Taehyung’s sharp features and cruel grin.

“Are you going to behave now princess?”

Your eyes widen with terror in response to his last word uttered. You immediately try to pull away to put as much distance as you can between you and him, but he holds you firm in the saddle. The confining grip matching the memories of the name he has just called you all too well. Your breathing comes in short panicked waves as your hand moves to conceal the scar on your neck. You can’t go back, you won’t go back, you refuse to endure that supposed term of endearment anymore. 

“Prin-” The vampire tries again to elicit a response from you, only this time you cut him off. Your fear turning to anger unwilling to tolerate another lie from his lips. 

“If you are not one of Taehyung’s clan then tell me, why do you address me in that manner?”

“You don’t know why I call you princess?” He gazes upon you, his eyes narrowed in confusion as you recoil once again. This time he takes your hand, which bears the weight of both the iron shackle and bitten brand, to hold you still. When you wince from the pressure of his touch, he looks down to examine the sensitive spot. His jaw stiffens as he finds the source of the pain. “What has he done to you?” He whispers softly as his fingers trail over the wound on your palm. 

...

“Open up princess, I have a gift for you,” Taehyung orders, standing over you as you sit on his desk. Gripping your jaw, while your lips remain sealed in defiance. “I said open.” His hand tightens, forcing your mouth to unfasten and expel a cry of pain. He presses the bloody tip of his finger to your tongue, dragging his index from the back to the front coating it with the thick fluid. “Now swallow.”

Your mouth begins to salivate with the intrusion of his blood. You know if you take it in you will lose everything once again, you’ll lose the will you’ve been building back up to defy him. He is never truly out of your system, you still have gaps in yourself, but the need to disobey always has its way of creeping back to you first. To be forced back into obedience within your own body and mind is nothing short of torture. 

You refuse to allow him to drag you back to the dark willingly, spitting your saliva along with his blood into his smug expression.

Taehyung chuckles darkly as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. “You’re right my princess. How could I think that only a drop would be enough to dispel your greed? You deserve more.” 

This time he bites into his hand allowing the blood to pool, while the other takes hold of your neck. The dripping flesh of his palm covers your gasping mouth. Your head is tilted back by his grasp as the blood drains down the back of your throat. 

“You will keep this down. You will accept my control. Every time you look at yourself you will think of me. When you close your eyes you will dream of me, for you can not run away only toward. You will remember nothing before me, and nothing before the night I bestow you with this.” His thumb passes over a three month old scar on your neck, continuing to mark it as the cornerstone of the earliest memory you possess.

Every week without fail he reweaves his bonds inside you, tending to them as a doting hunter with a valued prey. He takes his fill of you in between, sometimes it’s only a taste and others a full meal. Treating his desk as a dining table and you the feast, placing you down upon it for his consumption. 

“I will have to leave you weak in the knees today princess if I must go without you for a fortnight.” His finger catches a drop of blood that escapes your mouth running it back along your lips before his hand moves away and down, trailing deep red lines down the skin of your jaw and neck. “I’m sorry to leave, but there are some pressing matters which I must attend to.” He portrays a look of sorrow, but you know better than to believe that he can possess a single human emotion.  “You’ll be good while I’m gone won’t you? Shall I give you something to remember me by? Another mark unhealed for you to see? You can watch as it slowly means, knowing that I’ll be back to tear you open again.” 

He lifts your hand to his face with his own bloody fingers. How you wish you could slap him away, but your body refuses to move on your behalf, after consuming his blood it yields only to him.  

He does not hesitate before sinking his teeth into the base of your palm. Matching his own wound that he inflicted on himself, but as yours grows deeper, his begins to heal. He takes a long draft before releasing in a pant. Your blood acts like a drug to his system, making him as he so often puts it, ‘Feel alive again.’ 

He wipes his palm on yours allowing the breach to clot, he doesn’t mend it completely, instead leaving the painful imprint of his teeth, branding you anew, just as promised. “Appetizer, now entree Princess,” he mutters as he moves on, shifting to cradle your head and neck in his arms. You attempt to pull away, but that only forces him to issue the command, “Stay still.” 

His face hovers over the pulse of your neck, with you now frozen beneath. His fangs are careful not to dive too deep, retracting just as the blood begins to trickle from your throat. It collects in the well of your collar and trails down your chest, seeping beneath the bodice of your dress. The white fabric of your garment starts to bloom with scarlet. He could have chosen a gown of darker cloth for your personal wear, one that would be less prone to display the gruesome patterns of his actions, but he prefers to see the art of your suffering, your clothes and body becoming a canvas for his great masterpiece. He mutters how beautiful it looks while his fingers add to the display, painting a ruby-red choker around your neck using the blood as a stain.

His eyes linger taking in the sight before he moves in again to collect the flow, lapping it off your skin like a beast amidst a drought. You cringe as his tongue crosses your flesh, relentless in its desire to gather every drop it can. And just when you think he’s finished it makes another pass, accompanied by a growl and another sharp nip.

Unlike your hand, he completely remedies the gash on your neck, leaving only the one scar upon your throat from his first feeding. The loss starts to hit you, your skin turning cold like his, your breathing shallow, and your pulse quick. You hope that might be the end, that he has had his fill and needs no more, but his hand then fastens on your leg having pushed up the hem of your skirt and thin petticoat. “Let me in princess, I still have room left for dessert.” His teeth skim across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh mapping his preferred spot from your pained twitches. 

You whimper as he clamps down for his last bite. The only solace you can take is that he will not be here for two weeks. You have more time without him feeding, time to gain back control, and time to escape. You stare off to the woven tapestry map behind him, not knowing where to go but longing to be anywhere but here.

...

“D-don’t call me that.” Your demand catches and cracks at the back of your throat.

“But it’s what you are-”

“I am not his dinner, I am not his slave, and I am most certainly not his princess! I will not go back. If you have any mercy, please... drain me here. For I am far more willing to meet death, than I am to see him again. ”

To your confusion he looks shocked that you would even suggest such an act. He takes a moment before looking into your eyes with a narrowed gaze, “You don’t remember anything do you? It’s not just me you’ve forgotten.” 

You shake your head, unable to meet his eyes, “I remember nothing before him.” 

The vampire holds what’s left of the iron shackle in his hands, bending it apart with only his grip, freeing you from it’s clutches. 

There's another sigh from him as he takes the space on the saddle behind you. His body is uncomfortably close to yours, with his breath on your neck, and arms wrapped on either side to take the reins. “And I thought he could sink no lower...” He urges the horse forward with a nudge and a few mumbled words far too low for you to hear. “You are right, you are not his meal, nor his property, but it is not simply a given moniker to which I am referring, it’s what you are. You are the only living heir of a human kingdom just east of here.” 

“You lie, there is no way I could be,” This is just another game of his. It has to be. “If I am what you say, how could I have ended up where I was?” 

“You went missing, disappearing from your bed in the night. Your people assume that you were kidnapped, that you were taken by a monster, not knowing what we are. But I assure you, you are the lost pr-” He stops as you stiffen once again. “I can take you home, back to your family, back to your people, if that’s what you wish.” 

“And why would you do that?”

“I broke a promise long ago, I plan to remedy that mistake.” 

“I fail to see how that applies to me.” You mutter as you slump down in the saddle, no longer fighting your current fate. This vampire too can easily overpower you, he can take you wherever he desires to go, but as long as it’s away from Taehyung you have no wishes to slow him down.

He pulls a skin of water from his horse’s pack offering it to you. Your dry mouth wants to empty it in one swig, but the possibility of what else it could contain holds you back. You turn your nose up instead fearing that he’s drugged it with his own blood. 

“I have not tampered with it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You keep assuming your words carry weight with me. I will need more than that if I am to drink this.”

“If I intended to manipulate you with blood I would have done so already instead of fighting to get you on the horse.” 

He’s right, it would have been far easier. You take a careful sip rolling over your tongue, trying to detect even the slightest taste of iron before your swallow. 

He holds out food too, in the form of a few pieces of dried meat. Your mouth waters at the sight. The unaltered drink gives you the confidence to abandon your worries and take it, asking more questions while you eat. “You said I forgot you, but how was it that I knew you Yoo-” You pause trying to recall the name he led with when he found you. 

“Yoongi.”

You wait for more but he doesn’t continue, after swallowing your current mouthful you press further. “Are you not going to tell me?”

“It would be better if you remembered.”

“You expect me to trust you, but then you hide truths?” 

“I expect you to trust me because I want you to recall your truth of our encounters, not mine. When you do I will gladly discuss it with you, but not until then.” His tone is stern, boasting an air of finality to his argument.  

You huff back in frustration. “Can you at least tell me how long you’ve known me?”

“More than ten years now, you were a child of fourteen when we first met.”

“So you must know my name? My real name?” You ask with near excitement, hoping it might stir up some of your past within you.

“I do.” But as he recalls it, whispering the name for you to hear, nothing happens. You thought when you heard it again that everything would come back all at once like a spell broken by one magical word. But the name that comes from Yoongi’s lips has no meaning to you, no memory, no warmth. It bestows only a cold emptiness, a fear that you’ll never quite be able to bind yourself together with the person who bore that name before. 

...

Hours later Yoongi pulls his horse off the path and into the woods, trotting down what looks to be an overgrown trail. You finally come to a stop in front of a mound, backed by an elevation of stone and earth, bearing a small cave-like entrance.

“What is this?”  

“An old mining site. We’ll have to stop here for now.” Yoongi helps you down off the horse before removing the tackle and taking the large pack, he ties his steed up with a long lead on a grassy patch. Once finished you follow him through the dark and into the cavern, lagging a few paces behind with your legs stiff and sore from the night’s travel.

“But there’s still another hour or two until the sunrise. Why stop here?”  

“Because this is the last dark space that’s marked for the next fifteen miles.” He opens one of the bags pulling out a lantern, he lights it, dousing the cold and damp walls of the cave in a warm glow. Taking out a thick piece of paper next, he unfolds it with careful precision, laying it gently across a leather pack. He acts as though it’s a precious heirloom passed on to him from a loved one long gone. Your heart starts to race upon realization that it’s a map, and how with it’s aid you’d be able to find your own way home.  

Dark circles on the heavy parchment denote what according to the key is a resting spot. He opens it further pointing to both your current position and destination, your fingers tracing over a kingdom which he says is yours. With still three times the distance you’ve travelled yet to traverse, much of your contentment fades. 

Despite the blow to your morale, you continue your examination of the map, hoping to learn as much from it as you can. It’s beautifully intricate and precisely made, the only flaw is an ink smudge in the lower left hand corner, which appears to be a faint mirror image of the compass rose on the right. Likely the result of the map being folded before the ink had completely dried. You run your index over the blot feeling much the same. A partial imprint of your past life, and a great distance away from what you must have been. 

Yoongi watches you with a keen eye as you attempt to commit your future route to memory. “Does it look at all familiar to you?”

“No, I remember nothing of this land.” Not the names of rivers or cities return to you. How can you call a place home if you know nothing of it? “Thank you for your assistance. I know you have to stop, but after seeing this I feel that I should keep going.” You offer cordially, praying that he’ll agree to parting ways here. 

“Oh no you don’t. You’ll stay here until the sun sets, and we’ll continue together.”

“Why should I? If the sun is out I’m not at risk from vampires.”

“It is still a while before we reach your kingdom. You can see that can’t you? At least two more nights where you would be alone if I let you leave. Not to mention the risk from your own brethren. You haven’t been among other humans enough to know that they can be just as malicious.”

“Then give me your horse and I’ll out ride them.”

“When was the last time you rode a horse on your own?” He asks lowering his brow, scoffing as his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek. 

“I-I...” Naturally you can’t remember, and he knows it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yes of course you’ll be fine, it’s not like there will be vampires nipping at your heels the whole way home. Do you know I could smell the blood trailing from your feet a mile away? I can’t imagine they are in a good state. If the horse were to unseat you and run off, would you even be able to continue?”

You wince at the thought of treading forward on foot. The blisters are already a source of great agony, it’s painful to think what they would be like after another mile or two. 

Yoongi notices the show of discomfort in your face,  “Looks like you’ll be staying with me then your highness.”

“I’d rather not...” You're grateful he’s stopped calling you by the other title, but that still doesn’t prove his loyalty. “Why are you so insistent on taking me home? What’s in this for you?”

“Your company.”

“I am serious,” you groan, casting a dark glare back at him over the candle light.

“So am I.” He mutters his response, it’s so quiet you almost miss it.

“You are insufferable! I should be taking advantage of the daylight, I should be putting more distance between myself and his prison. You should have left me there in the forest so I wouldn’t have to deal with your so-called assistance.”

“Forgive me for wanting to keep you alive and safe. It must be truly awful to have someone come to your aid.”

“You are not someone, you’re a vampire,” you bite back against his sarcasm. “I take no pleasure in being in the company of your kind.”

Yoongi sighs looking defeated, following it with an odd request. “Give me your hand, the one with the wound.”

“Why?” You clutch your palm to your chest in defence. 

“I’ll mend it properly for you, your heels too if you’d like. I want to help undo the damage that my kind has done to you. He should never have left you scarred like that.”

“He shouldn’t have fed off me in the first place!” You shout back your voice echoing off the walls.

“You’re right,” Yoongi levels with you. “But I can’t imagine you want to keep it.”

“I don’t, but I also don’t want help from you! I would rather carry this than any more of your poison. So you can keep your blood to yourself.”

“As you wish,” Yoongi responds, yet he still shifts towards you, encouraging you to back away and keep the space between you. 

“I’m not going to...” His tone sounds exasperated but soon changes to a softer register as he looks at your terror ladened face. “Just, take this.” Yoongi passes over a bed roll before pulling one out for himself from the woven pack. 

You stare at the bedding, questioning it, the convenience of such an item along with supplies all seem too good to be true. “Why would someone who travels alone have a second? Why would a vampire have a stash of water he can’t drink, and food he can’t eat?” 

“I brought them for you. I knew you would need them on the journey.” His answer comes off as thoughtful, but the explanation still doesn’t sit right with you, surely there can be no rational reason as to why he was so ready for your escape.

“You expect me to swallow your perfect timing? That you just happened to be in the right place at the right time, ready to play the role of saviour-”

“Who said the timing was perfect? It has been anything but ideal,” Yoongi growls cutting you off. “I have been trying to get you back ever since I learned that you were taken. But we have limitations that prevented me from just storming his castle. A vampire can not enter the home of another without permission. I tried to get you, believe me I did. While you were trapped inside for five years, I was kept outside for just as long. But I have always been prepared to leave with you at a moment's notice.” 

You were ready to continue your argument again just as he was to finish, but one of his last reveals disarms you with an all too unpleasant fact. “H-how long did you just say?”

“Five years?”

“No... that’s not possible, I can’t remember more than a few months.”

“Prin- your highness.” Yoongi catches himself as you turn to panic.

“Please don’t tell me that he held me for years.” You panicked whispers become sobbing pleas, you would gladly take the lie now. The thought of more tortures of imprisonment lying just below the surface of your memory is enough to make you want to do away with your entire past. Blindly tossing it all away and building it all anew, if only it worked that way.    

“It’s been years, I’m so sorry, but you’ve been with- you’ve been missing for half a decade.” 

“Why? Why would he take that too?” You whisper stand up clutching the scar on your neck, the mark you thought to be the first was likely a only a sequel to many. How many more lie hidden in your skin, healed and masked his blood?  Feeling a pull to leave, you stumble towards the mining shaft’s entrance, unable to take another minute beside a monster who could do the same. Yoongi grabs you from behind, wrapping his hands around your waist to prevent you from progressing any further outside. You strain against him determined to go back out into the open air.  “No, let me go.”

“I can’t do that, your highness.”  

You turn into him pushing against his chest as you shout. “Let me go Yoongi.” He doesn’t stop you from shoving, or cursing him out. He just stands there holding tight as you take out your loss on him. 

“If I were to do that his hunters would find you,” Yoongi warns. “Is that what you want? Because I’m not ready to lose you to him again...” The last of his sentiment drifts off as if he’s said too much. His grip loosens to the point where you can slip away. As much as you want to turn out and run towards the sun he’s right, you can't risk losing another five years or maybe more. He nods down to the bed roll abandoned on the ground. “You should get some rest, you’ll need it for the journey tomorrow.” 

You obey, taking the bedding and lantern, wandering back farther into the cave and further away from the vampire. Slipping off your boots you find the cloth you had wedged in earlier caked with blood. You glance over to your nocturnal companion seeing if the reveal had any effect on him, but he’s already lying down, his back towards you, paying no attention. Desperate to dispose of the temptation you hold the two strips of fabric above the lantern flame. Fortunately they are dry enough to burn, leaving only ashen traces of the linen scraps. You redress your wounds with more fabric from your garment, but before curling under the blankets for the day you take one last precaution. With numerous broken branches littering the floor of the cave, you take the most jagged and sturdy, tucking in by your side. The sharp twig is not quite a stake, but a better defence than nothing at all.

...

Even after travelling all day and night with little rest it takes an age for you to fall asleep, not because of the hard ground, not due to the pain in your legs, nor the questionable motives of your new guard, but the knowledge of who you’ll see once you do. Although Taehyung’s blood has lost control of your physical movements, his hold on your mind is still tight. You know you’ll see him when you drift off, but your exhaustion is unwavering and your need of rest undeniable.  

It seems like only moments after you close your eyes that you’re reunited. He lies there beside you back in his castle, with his own eyes closed, his face content with a small smile as though he’s just fed. But on this night, something’s different. You finally feel as though you have the power to fight back against him. The stake you had stolen from his collection, and promptly lost to the forest, found again by your side. You’ve always wanted this moment, taking vengeance on the one who put you through hell. Even if it is only a dream you’ll embrace it though reality.

Mere inches away from his chest your hand is stopped by his. His eyes fly open and he tackles you back. “Killing me won’t grant you freedom, it won’t stop others from coming for you.”

“Then let them come,” you sneer back at him. “For any life without you Taehyung will be a vast improvement, no matter how short or perilous.” 

There’s a quizzical look on his face, his thumb pushing into your palm trying to get you to realise the stake, “Wake up your highness, it’s not what you think.” 

You are pulled from the dream to find yourself with your pitiful excuse for a weapon in hand. Pointing it at Yoongi’s heart as he hovers over you. You drop it quickly, and attempt to slide out from beneath him out of fear of retaliation. “I thought you were him.” 

He places a heavy hand on your shoulder preventing any further retreat on your part. “I figured that to be the case. Do you have these dreams often?” His tone is not angry, but concerned.

You relax with his understanding, “Every night, he made sure it was so.”

“I know it won’t mend the past, but I’m sorry... for what he’s done to you.”

“I’m sorry I attacked you...” 

“I can’t blame you for that,” Yoongi admits with a curling smile on his lips. “If I looked at myself and saw Taehyung I would respond in the same manner.”

You let out a small chuckle, leading to a surprised expression on Yoongi’s face. His smirk soon turns into a sad smile. “I want you to know, when you are with me, you are safe. No one will feed from you, no one will touch you, myself included.”

...

You wake to the sound of a raven in the early evening, the deep croaks of the bird carrying through the mine. Keeping your head down you glance with narrowed eyes to spy on the vampire who currently ties a small roll of parchment to the leg of the dark creature. It waits patiently on his knee until the knot is firmly in place, letting out another loud cry once Yoongi’s hand retreats. 

“I suppose you’ll be wanting more then?” Yoongi takes his index, and presses it down onto one of his sharp teeth, allowing a bead of blood to form on the tip. The raven then takes his finger into his beak and tilts his head back as it feeds on the red droplets. You start to gag at the sight, alerting Yoongi to your awakened state. The bird takes flight as your escort gets up to check on you, but as he comes closer you draw back. He pauses after his first couple steps, and asks from a distance instead. “Are you alright?”

“Why did you feed it your blood?” You heave again at the thought, but with little in your stomach there is nothing to come up.

“He’s delivering a letter for me. The blood is his reward; it keeps him healthy, but it also allows me to convey where he needs to go and who he needs to find.” 

“It’s disgusting.”

“The raven is more than happy to take it as payment for his service. But I know of what you mean, when the exchange is done improperly...” Yoongi pauses as another wave of nausea overwhelms you again, “Forgive me, I thought you were asleep, I didn’t know you would be watching.”

“What were you sending?”

“Notice to my clan. I left my surveillance post, they will wish to know why.”

“Will that be a problem?” You hadn’t considered groups other than Taehyung’s, but if you can avoid interaction with them all the better.

“No, returning you home will be a greater blow to Taehyung. He has likely built a dependence on your blood and without you he’ll be left in a far weaker state. We might finally have a chance to diminish his hold on the region.” Yoongi takes a brief glance to the entrance and starts to pack away his supplies. “You should ready yourself to leave. The sun is almost down.”

You climb out from your bed roll to find that in the night the blood had seeped through the new makeshift bandage. Yoongi clenches his teeth, and makes another offer. “Please just let me heal them, you'll only need a drop.”

“That’s one drop too much.” You move back unsure if you should be more worried about Taehyung’s men tracking you down, or the more current and looming threat of the vampire in front of you. “Is this going to be a problem for you?” “No,” he confirms, however there’s a slight hesitation in his answer. “But you should go wash up before you lose all daylight, there’s a river just down hill.” He takes a kerchief from his pocket and places it on a rock between you. “You can have this if you’d like. I don’t have any bandages to offer, other than the treatment you find so distasteful.” 

You reach out and grab it. “You won’t be getting this back.” You eye him darkly. 

“That’s fine, just go clean them off before others who may be nearby take note of your aroma.” You observe him with caution, hesitating to pass by his threatening mouth to get to that of the cave’s. “Unless you want to stay and watch me eat.” He comments as he pulls out another soft flask which he carries in his jacket. You cringe as he holds in what is likely a stolen meal.

“What?” He fires back at your critical glare. 

“Do you drain all your victims into wine skins, or just those you wish to save for later?”

“The one who gave me this was not my victim. They were willing to part with it.”

“Willing?” You scoff. “I find that hard to believe. Are you sure you did not slip them some of your own blood first?”

“No I did not, but if you have a problem with how I conduct my feedings you only have yourself to blame.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Now hurry, so we can make use of this night.”

You do just that, darting past him you leave the mine heading down to the river in the fading sunlight.

...

As you return Yoongi is already outside and packing the horse. With his back to you he pulls an apple from the saddle bag, and the horse turns his head towards the treat with it’s mouth open and reaching. He pulls it back and away from the creature, “I know, I know this should have been yours, but you’ve had enough grass and she needs food. Do you mind sharing?” You watch as he rubs his steed behind the ear and it gives up on it’s want for the fruit. “Thanks, next one is yours, I promise.”

“Am I to thank you or the horse for my meal?” You call out to the vampire.

“You may thank him if you like.” Yoongi hands off the apple to you as you approach.

You can’t help smile as you stand in front of the massive and beautiful stallion letting him smell the back of your hand before you reach you pet the star on his forehead. “What is his name?” 

“Horse...” Yoongi admits. 

“Horse? Surely you jest. Why would you not give him a proper name?”

“He went for so long without one it just stuck.” Yoongi responds as he tightens the girth of the saddle. “What would you have named him?” 

“I’m not sure, but certainly not horse. You poor beast, first he deprives you of a suitable name, then an apple.” You take a few bites but with your stomach still queasy and unable to take anymore, you give the rest to the poorly named steed. Once the bridle and tackle are secure you mount up despite the instant outcry from your legs. You find Yoongi watching you, taking notice but remaining silent. You’re grateful for his lack of discourse, not wanting to have to explain the tenderness of your ass and thighs owing to yesterday’s travel. 

Regrettably, the aches become worse, and after only a couple hours of riding you’re barely able to stay upright. If Yoongi’s arms weren’t circling around you to keep hold of the reins you would have slid to the ground long ago. It seems that he’s no longer able to disregard your comfort though.  “Are you well?”

“Relatively speaking, yes.” You whisper holding in a groan.

“Relative to what?”

“Relative to a week ago.” To your time with Taehyung. You grimace further with each mounted stride.

“I think your scale is skewed. We’ll slow for a bit. Though you might think differently, I have no desire to see you in pain.” He slows his steed to a walk and dismounts, letting you lean back as he leads the horse forward. 

“This is nothing I promise. We should keep the pace up.”

“You wish to be rid of me so soon? Even if it causes you agony?”

“Yes.” Your short reply is enough to make him pause for a second, his face splitting into an open smirk before he continues again.  

“Though I appreciate your honesty, the horse could use a break too.” Yoongi chuckles darkly. “You’ll have to learn how to hold that tongue of yours again once you return to court.”

You take in a sharp breath as a chill runs down your spine. You’ve been so focused on what you are running from you haven’t given thought as what you are running too. “Do you know much about my family, about my life back home?”

“Some.”

“You said I was the last remaining heir. There must have been a time when that wasn’t the case.”

“Your brother...” Yoongi explains, his gaze fixed on the road. “He passed away a few weeks ago. He was very ill, had been all his life.”

You take a deep breath as you register the news, but it’s hard to properly grieve when you can’t recall what you lost. “I wish I could remember-” 

Yoongi must be taking pity on you as he delves further without your prompting. “You loved him very much, but you weren’t as close as you would have liked to have been. His ailment was unknown to many and it prevented him from spending much time with you.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Because you told me.” He whispers, finally meeting your eyes again.  

“Wh-what else do you know? Will you tell me?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Give it time and you’ll remember on your own. His hold won’t last forever.”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t say more.”

“Because I don’t want to give you a false sense of your past, only to find out later that it was different than I thought, than I hoped. Your affection for your brother was obvious, but with other focuses of your adoration I cannot be sure. So please do not ask much of me. You’ve gone through enough, I have no wish to plant false regard for things you did not actually love.” While Yoongi continues to look up to you his expression takes a sudden shift. His nose lifts into the air and takes a deep breath, before his head snaps back at the road ahead. “Humans... four of them.”

Your heart leaps at the prospect, but Yoongi cuts your anticipation short. “Don’t get too hopeful. They are currently trying to conceal themselves on the path ahead. I doubt their motives are well intended.” He reaches up to tuck a lock of hair that had fallen out from your cap. “Stay on the horse and keep quiet. I’ll deal with them.” 

“But-”

“For your own safety, please do what I ask.” 

The trees growing around the road are thick and dense, your eyes dart between the trunks in hopes to catch movement, but with the forest cloaked in darkness you have little ability to find anything. Minutes pass and just as you are about to question Yoongi, you spot a man with tattered clothes lying in the middle of the dirt road ahead. Thinking he might be a victim of the others mentioned, you make an attempt to dismount. But Yoongi holds your hand firmly on the reins, while he calls out to the casualty. “The wounded traveller? Do people still fall for that?”

There’s a moment of silence before a man emerges from the forest to the left. “You’d be surprised,” he responds, while two more appear on the right. 

The destitute wayfarer on the road gets up and dusts himself off. “It’s a shame you didn’t fall for our ploy, it’s much easier both for us and those who do, so much less blood.  You look to be worth the effort though. I’m sure we could fetch a pretty penny for a steed like that.”

The four close in ranks and advance. Yoongi stays by your side, eyeing their approach, he gives a warning. “For your sake, I hope there will be no blood involved.” 

“Is that a threat?” One of the highwaymen asks. “I should like to see how you plan on besting us without a blade. 

The man closest to you, with a dagger drawn, reaches out to grab hold of your leg. “Come down off the horse lad. There's no point in putting off the inevitable, it’s ours now.” In spite of his weapon you ready to kick the man off, but before your foot can lay into him his grip is torn away. In the blink of an eye Yoongi is on the other side of the horse forcing the assailant  to his knees with an arm behind his back. There’s a loud pop from the thief’s shoulder, resulting in a cry of pain. One of the other bandits charges to free his ally, his sword ready. Yoongi succeeds in dodging the initial thrust of the steel, and with one hand takes the saber, turning it instead on it’s owner. Your vampire escort issues another caution with the point at man’s throat. 

“If you would like your friend to keep use of his arm then I suggest you all back away.” While the disarmed thief retreats backward with his hands in the air, the rest are frozen in place refusing to move. “You think I jest?” Yoongi’s grip tightens while his captive lets out a shout. The little effort used on the vampires part to make the man submit finally prompts his fellows to take two steps back. “I swore to my companion that no one would touch them on this journey. You’ve made me break that promise, and I am not pleased.” There’s a deep growl to his voice that sends chills through even you. “I should take this limb in payment, and maybe one from each in your party too.”

“Yoongi....” You whisper in a low tone.

He turns back to you with a slight smirk. “But you are lucky, my friend prefers mercy. It’s far more than you deserve.” Yoongi lowers his head muttering into the bandits ear. “I’ll tell you what. You may keep your arm, but you and your men will abandon your camp, head south and keep walking. You will tell no one of us, and if I ever come across your path again I will not hesitate to act on my threats.”

Yoongi releases the man allowing him to scramble away as he clutches his shoulder. The other three support their injured cohort as they run off. 

Yoongi takes hold of the horse from the ground once again, leading you off the road. “Their camp it’s just this way. They might have had some supplies which will be of use to us.”

You only nod in response unsure of what to say, after what you just witnessed. The first humans you had interacted with in years, and here they intended to rob you. 

The smoke of their smouldering fire draws you in. Yoongi’s hunch was right, they had a good deal of useful items. Rations for you, along with spare changes of clothes. He fills a bag and ties it on the saddle, leaving their stolen riches along with the blade behind for someone else to find. 

He mounts up behind you again, carrying on forward for some time before speaking again. “Are you well your highness? You’ve been very quiet.”

You give him another nod, while chewing on your lip. “Why south?”

“That’s where my own clan’s territory lies. If they try to pull something like that again they’ll regret it.” He shifts in the saddle behind you, “Back there, I-I didn't scare you did I?”

You fall silent again, unable to confess he somewhat had, but also that the terror of your fellow mankind outweighed his by far. You fear the idea of having crossed them alone. They would have taken advantage of your mercy, who knows where you would be now if it weren’t for the self-proclaimed guard at your side. 

Yoongi seems to take your lack of answer as confirmation of his worry. “I needed them to see me as a vicious monster, had they not backed off I would have had to become one. I’m sorry you had to witness the threat but it was necessary. I needed to terrify them for their sake and yours. I promise didn’t intend to frighten you, only to keep you safe. ” 

...

Coming close to the break of day you find rest this time in a small abandoned house. The windows shuttered completely to prevent even the smallest stream of light from entering. Unlike the night before Yoongi doesn’t light the lantern. It’s so dark inside that he has to lead you to an empty space of floor for you to rest on. He takes a couple steps away, giving you some space before settling down himself once again between you and the door.

“I’m not going to run, you’ve made your point, or I should say the thieves did.”

“I don’t rest between you and the exit to keep you here, but to stop others from entering,” Yoongi explains. “These spots I’ve scoped out, I am not alone in using them. They are how my kind travels, some might have found different places to rest away from the sun, but I can tell that others have used this location. Don’t go examining your surroundings too closely, you might not like what you find.”

Now thankful for the darkness, you take your bed roll from Yoongi. “Rest easy,” he mutters as you climb in between in the blankets.

“Not likely,” you whisper back. “But thank you.”

Unfortunately you are correct, your sleep is once again disturbed by Taehyung. You catch a glimpse of his face before you're surrounded by him. The darkness holds you in a suffocating grip, your mouth slowly filling with blood. You struggle trying to breath reaching out to take a hold of anything that would pull you out. 

A hand grabs on to the side of your face, another on to your arm. Finding the shine of Yoongi’s eyes once you're able to open your own, you gasp out to him begging for some sort of relief. “Can’t see... can’t breath...”

He picks you up only to set you back down on the floor a second later. There's a click and the front door opens to reveal a narrow shaft of sunlight. A single beam a couple inches wide, but it’s enough to dispel the darkness inside. Your eyes start to water, blinded by the light, but it’s far too warm and comforting to deny yourself the sight.    

To your disgust there’s a lingering taste of blood in your mouth. Reminding you of the shackles that still bind you to Taehyung as it continues to overwhelm your senses. Yoongi’s voice flows from the darkness just to the side of the door, his eyes glowing like that of a predator’s. “I think you might have bitten your tongue in your sleep, your highness.” 

He’s right, you find a sore spot as you press it to the roof of your mouth. You make an attempt to focus back on the sun. You sit there in silence letting your breath and heart return to a normal rate. All while Yoongi’s eyes continue to watch you, burning in the darkness. He apologizes for his gaze, but does not withdraw his attention, “Sorry but it’s been so long since I’ve seen someone bask in the sun. I’ve forgotten what it feels like myself...”

“How long?”

“I lost count around the century mark, but it’s likely been double that.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Yes, but I understand. Immortality is a large price to pay, and every monster must have an equal weakness.”

“But I suppose, not everything it repels is a monster.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow as if he’s hiding a small smile in the darkness. “Dare I say, that sounds almost like a compliment?”

“Merely an observation,” you whisper, but your words trigger something inside you, a pain and longing which you can’t explain. “Yoongi, what were we to one another before...” Before Taehyung interrupted your life. “Please I know you don’t wish to speak for me, but I need to know your view of what we were.”

“We were friends, just friends.” He responds but you're not convinced, just friends do not wait outside the home of their enemy for five years. Just friends don’t put their entire life on hold for another. Just friends aren’t overwhelmed with the desires that seem to be returning to you now.

You’ve seen this expression on him before, you know you have. On the edge of your memories lies a dark cavernous stone built hall, one in which only you and him resided. You find him crumbling under the weight of what he is and what he’s lost because of that. Fragments of your words and his surface in your mind.

“You are not a monster Yoongi, I do not need saving from you!”

“If not from me, then at least from my kind. I cannot give you the life nor the safety which lies here... You would be better off if you forgot me entirely.”

You remember your wish to comfort him, to embrace him and prove that he has not lost everything because of what he is. With the recollection fading, falling from your grasp, you panic out of fear of losing the brief moment of memory. Closing the door you move towards Yoongi, the only focus you have of your previous life, hoping the scene in your mind might continue.

“I don’t need saving from you,” you mutter, blinded by the rapid loss of light, reaching out in an attempt to find him again. 

He takes your hand and holds it, his cool fingers trailing soothing lines over the mark on your palm. “If not from me, then at least from my kind,” he responds, following the path of your dialogue from long before. “You remember our last meeting?” 

“Only a fraction of it. I remember wanting to...” To confess to him, to kiss him, that was your past self was leaning towards. You thought well enough of him to desire an intimacy with one who feeds on others... that can’t be right. But even now you can start to see the appeal your younger self cared for. His soft touch on your hand, his calming presence, and protection, those are not qualities of a monster. And in the memory you were worried that he would reject your affection, that he would be the one to pull away, not you. “Did you ever desire to be more than friends?”

His eyes grow wide at your question, but his stance remains the same. “You know I will not answer that.” 

“But this is regarding your feelings, not my own!”

“I will say no more of us. I’ve told you far too much already.” He leaves the topic at that, directing you to your present state instead. ”There’s a few more hours before sunset... do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

You shake your head and move to sit with your back against the boards of the wall. Your reply is slow to come, and muddled with the first gasp of tears. “I can’t...” The prospect of closing your eyes again is too terrifying.

Yoongi comes to sit beside you, as he continues to hold your hand, his other arm wraps your shoulders as you let out the pain. A couple of hours ago you would have pushed him away out of fear, but with the spark of your past self craving his presence, who are you to deny the support it needs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I have to keep my view from you. I don’t want to add to the damage that has been done.”

“There is not more damage that could be done. All I have to remember is a few months spent in agony and terror. How can I find comfort or rest when that is all I have? I have no knowledge of who or what made me happy, or of what dreams chased away the nightmares.”

“An adventure,” Yoongi mutters, his head bowed to the floor as he concedes with another part of your past. “You always dreamed of having an adventure.” 

You let out a broken and weeping scoff, crestfallen that your ambitions to learn more only exposed a further divide. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Your parents were overprotective, because of your brother's condition. You were forced to keep to the castle, you just longed for something different.” His thumb rubs along the back of your hand as he holds it. 

“But I don’t feel like one to see the risk of adventures as desirable.”

“You’ve been through much since then, fear has a way of changing what we want. I will admit I wished for you to be more careful back then, but never at a cost like this.” 

“I don’t know if I will ever be that person again...” You draw your knees to your chest letting your head lull to the side and onto him. 

“That’s okay,” His arm grips you tighter, as his face lowers to the top of your head. His lips briefly brush against your hair, before his cheek comes down to rest, taking their place. “That’s why I’m taking you home.” 

...

[ladeaeveld]

Notes on Tevinter Nights

I finished reading Tevinter Nights not so long ago, so here is an overview of what is happening in Thedas. There is probably nothing particularly new since I'm a bit late to the party. However, I find such overviews convenient to refresh my memory when needed. Perhaps it will be useful to someone else!

This overview was meant to be short, but there were so many interesting details... now, it is huge.

Also, since I’ve read the translated version, any help with wording clarifications is greatly appreciated!

The post is under a cut due to Tevinter Nights spoilers (and length).

Global events

- There is a war between the Qunari and Tevinter.

- Three branches of the Qun do not agree with each other. The Antaam, the military branch of the Qun, attacked Ventus and continued the invasion without the permission of the other two. It results in faster progress of the invasion as the other two branches were a moderating influence on the Antaam. The Ben-Hassrath holds a neutral position.

- In Tevinter, the Venatori are still a problem.

- Smaller countries like Rivain and Antiva are under serious threat of the Qunari’s invasion.

- The heads of the Antivan Crows, eight Talons, held a meeting to join their forces, protect Antiva, and withstand the Qunari's invasion. The meeting was disrupted, and four out of eight Talons were murdered. New heads of the Crows will be chosen soon.

- The king of Nevarra is on the brink of death. The Mortalitasi, who have always had great power in Nevarra, continue to interfere in politics.

- All the Grey Wardens were summoned to Weisshaupt.

- We were introduced to a considerable amount of characters from the guild of treasure hunters, the Lords of Fortune.

- Regarding the Inquisition, little is known. All external issues of the organization seem to be handled by Varric Tethras. He gives quests, monitors their implementation, hires new people.

- One of the Executors, or ‘those across the sea’, showed up in the flesh. Solas said they are particularly dangerous and cautioned against interacting with them.

- By now, many have heard rumours of the Fen’Harel’s cult.

Minrathous

- A demon or something far worse is imprisoned under Minrathous. With the help of the Venatori, it is now unsealed (will probably be sealed again later). Yet, to awake it, some blood-magic ritual must be performed.

- The creature was sealed with eight blood-bonded enchanted clay disks. They showed a long and thin four-winged dragon rising from the dark waters.

- It is said that ‘demon’ is not the best word to describe this creature. It is something ancient and mighty, unnamed, something that will subject to god only.

- This ‘demon’ was a part of Corypheus’ plan of making Tevinter great again. According to this plan, Minrathous was to become the cradle of the new world. If Minrathous had not surrendered to Corypheus, the ‘demon’ would have left the city no choice.

- Most of the population of Minrathous could have perished as a result of this creature awakening.

- Enchanted predators and monsters resulting from magical experiments seem to be common in Minrathous.

Elven experiments

- In Nevarra, under a mountain with three asymmetric peaks wrapped around each other, there is a dwarven thaig. This thaig is called Hormak, and it was lost to the darkspawn hundreds of years ago.

- In Hormak, Grey Wardens have found elven halls, where experiments on living were conducted. And it is quite lively in these halls now.

- There is a huge pool with a greyish fluid that reeks of brine. It creates hybrids.

- There were different types of hybrids: darkspawn with other darkspawn, animals with other animals, darkspawn with animals, and even a centipede and a Grey Warden hybrid.

- When a hurlock stepped in the greyish fluid, it was enveloped and then transformed into a drake and a hurlock hybrid.

- The transformed Grey Warden said that the fluid affects ‘them’ (sentient races?) differently. To be transformed, it is not enough to touch it. The fluid should get inside the body.

- All over the place were large repetitive bas-reliefs depicting ancient elven. There were three types of them. The first one showed majestic elven kings and queens with reverent supplicants. The second one showed elven mages healing sick. The third showed big aravels, drawn by herds of hallas, going to distant mountains (one of the mountains had three peaks wrapped around each other).

- Later, those bas-reliefs were described differently. On the first one, elven rulers were arrogant and despised their subjects, who seemed to be in great terror. On the second one, mages weren’t healing sick, but on the contrary, they were injecting corruption into bodies. On the third, a halla had a strange rounded body and very long and ridged horns, and an aravel had bars on its windows, which made it look like a cage.

- Somewhere at the entrance of the halls was one more type of repetitive bas-reliefs. It showed three figures: a supplicant, a priestess, and a monster. On each subsequent bas-relief, a supplicant and a monster were different, while the priestess remained the same. It seemed that with each subsequent bas-relief, her grin grew wider.

- The experiments are directed by some will, which is referred to as a female. ‘She’ is not yet there, ‘they’ are waiting for ‘her’.

- Symbols of horns of a halla are present on each column in the halls.

- According to bas-reliefs, there are twelve such places in total.

The Inquisition members and allies

For completeness, this part should have included information from the comic, but I tried to avoid that.

- According to Tevinter Nights, Varric and Charter remained in the ranks of the Inquisition.

- Charter mentions her lover, Tessa.

- Vaea and ser Aaron show up but without a clear relation to the Inquisition.

- There are two mages, Vadis and Irian, who saved a peaceful Qunari settlement called Kont-aar from an agent of Fen'Harel, thus keeping the chance of subtle peace between the Ben-Hassrath and Tevinter. The Ben-Hassrath returned the favour by directing said mages to Kirkwall, to a certain dwarf, where they intend to go after seeing Val Royeaux.

- Sutherland and Company are still loyal to the ideals of the Inquisition.

- Quentin Calla, who was a bearer of the enchanted clay disk for a while, provided the Inquisition with some information.

- Philliam, a Bard!, (formerly) Sister Laudine, and Brother Ferdinand Genitivi, with the help of the Lord of the Fortune, Mateo, accepted and completed the quest from the Inquisition.

Fen’Harel and the red lyrium idol

- The red lyrium idol's adventures ended. It is now in Solas' hands, or at least he says so.

- There are three descriptions of the red lyrium idol's appearance. The first one, made by the dwarf, the Carta assassin: two figures, too thin to be dwarves, caressing each other. The second one, by Mortalitasi: two lovers or a god mourning the sacrifice. The third, by Solas: crowned figure comforting another one. (Note: I remind you these are not exact quotes but a translation of the translation, and nuances might have been lost.)

- Some qualities of the idol: red lyrium weighs more than the usual one; the idol is liquid inside; it reacts to other lyrium.

- The idol created or revealed a ritual blade.

- Solas calls the idol his.

- The Mortalitasi recounted the events in the Fade in which Solas took a form of a giant wolf the size of a high dragon. He had burning eyes like those of a pride demon and wings of fire which later resolved themselves into lesser demons. The Fade is called his natural home, and it is said spirits serve him gladly.

- Solas pays special attention to the actions of the Inquisition.

- Members of Fen'Harel's cult would rather die than be captured.

- The ritual the Dread Wolf performs already affects the Fade.

Random interesting facts

- The Qunari slowly cut down a part of the Arlathan Forest.

- The Ben-Hassrath are said to know the most about Solas’ actions.

- Among four killed Talons was Giuli Arainai, Eighth Talon, and this might be a good time for Zevran to show up somehow.

- There was a lyrium crystal that produced a light with shades of green and yellow in Hormak.

- Dorian no longer has slaves, only hired labourers.

- Josephine sent Dorian some good Antivan wine. :)

- Vaea now possesses a healing artefact, which seems to be able to heal anything except death.

- There is an example of a dwarven metal prosthetic of a leg, which does not seem to restrict movement in any way.

Since I’ve read Tevinter Nights after the last Dragon Age Day... - Evka became a Grey Warden and did rescue the next one!

- The hunger demon that turned a person into a werewolf in the village called Eichweill was not completely defeated.

- It seems those elven artefacts do strengthen the Veil, after all.

- The Randy Dowager is Ferdinand Genitivi. Five scarves fluttered in shock out of five.

⠀

This is all for Tevinter Nights for now. I did not include plenty of curious facts, probably enough for another post. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

If you have any corrections regarding facts, or grammar, etc., don’t hesitate to DM me! Or you may leave a comment in my ask box if you want to stay anonymous.

Thank you for the attention, and have a nice day!

[sparrowsfall]

@themechaneer​ :

“Found m’ on the beach. I asked around, everyone I talked to told me told me the closest thing to a vet this place has got is you. ‘Specially if the patients avian.”

There’s a hint of a smile, laughter watered down by worry more than anything as he extends the small bundle he’s holding towards the priest. He’d been quick to wrap the tiny creature in a rag he’d had on him, surprisingly clean of any of the usual motor fluids and grime that tended to find his person. It hadn’t taken much to ascern there was some sort of break to the bird’s wing when upon approach the bird hadn’t taken to flight. Instead had chirped in a most distressed way, and had tried its best to hobble a safer distance from the apparent monster seemingly intent on its capture for undoubtedly nefarious purpose. At the time he’d winced in sympathy, had cooed even as the panicked bird had tried for his fingers, hissed, spread only the one wing out as far as it could stretch it’s tiny body, puffed up it’s body in what Joel was sure would been an impressive threat display. Were it not for the wing it kept very intently tucked protectively against itself.

Service in the army as a field and trauma surgeon had given him enough confidence to pick up, and inspect the bird himself for further injury. But not quite enough to begin treatment when inspection had revealed some very notable discrepancies between the broken arms he was used to, and, well—- a wing. A bent one at that. A consultation had clearly been needed. Somehow he hadn’t been all that surprised when sources had collectively pointed out John as his man. As the island’s ‘father’ he did seem inclined toward nurturing.

“As a surgeon I know my stuff but this— is a bit outta my depth. Gonna help me doc?”

     “ Oh my---... ”

Even with hands as large as his own, John is surprisingly tender as he takes the tiny bundle of loggerhead shrike into his warm and waiting palms. Senses that are not only restored but enhanced are an asset even in these most unassuming of scenarios. Were it not for his ability to smell the copper of drying blood, he might have otherwise missed the burst fracture seam hiding just beneath a drape of black feathers. A blessing, even if he has to swallow back the saliva now collecting on his tongue --- this tiny creature would hardly sate him, anyway.

The butcher bird’s head is gently pinched between two fingers, just along the bottom curve of the little grey cheeks fluffed in fury. A most threatening display that earns a sympathetic chuckle from the priest. “ Oh--- I know, I know, you’re very fierce. ” He’s mindful to apply only a slight amount of pressure, the bare minimum to ensure that the bird’s head remains still, for the safety of both the small predator and himself ( no one wants to find their fingers on the receiving end of that TINY but MIGHTY beak ). Eyes scour over the shrike’s body for any other wounds. Then, inspect the tense and shaking wing. He peeks under the rag to get a better look at the injury, and draws in a hiss through gritted teeth.

“ Ah, poor guy. That looks like it hurts. ” The priest is by no means a veterinarian, nor does he claim such a title. But after many an observation and practicum in his youth, then continued decades of volitional practice --- Well, he knows a thing or two. Gathering the��thin cotton corner and pinching the cloth back between his other fingers, he uses the opposite hand to unfurl the damaged wing slowly. Cautiously. Just enough to take a look at the underside, pointing out the raw and worn joint to Joel with his free thumb. “ I’m glad you brought him to me. It’s a compound fracture --- See that uh, that bit of bone poking out on the underside? That’s his elbow. ” A click of his tongue, a shake of his head as he folds the wing back into its odd place. “ He must have beaten the hell out of himself trying to get away from whatever broke his wing. He’s not going to be able to fly as well as he used to. But uh--- I think I can fix it so that he might manage short distances. He’ll be comfortable, either way. Not as efficient, though. ” 

     With a step back, he props the rectory’s screen door open with his shoulder, keeps his new feathered patient close to his chest. “ Come on in. You can, ah, watch if you like. Shouldn’t take long. ”

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 22: Lose - Keen Of The Green Chap.2: Hack Up A Ghost Or Two

Kwan’s always been the kinda guy too clean up others messes, you could say he was the teams mother hen, but this was kinda ridiculous. But at least he wasn’t cleaning up after his teammates for once.

Casper High was much more used to Danny and his general.. weird, now. To the point that people would give him random ghosts -usually plants, Whisps, or Blob ghosts- they found. Or if they were getting chased by or spotted a ghost people actually ran to him. The real surprise and improvement was that the teen wouldn’t run away from ghosts now, which everyone was in agreement he had been doing to try to ‘hunt’ the ghost in private, and would actually just eat what people brought him like it wasn’t as absolutely weird and messed up as it was.

Though seeing the switch flip in him between random Highschool senior loser to predator, if someone did manage to lead a ghost to the teen, was freaky and even rather scary. Some folks watched purely out of morbid curiosity others in some odd attempt to be supportive of the local monster. His friends were the only ones who seemed genuinely unphased. Which did make some wonder just how long this had gone on for, if the boy was born like this, or the really unpleasant thought that his parents messed him up.

He didn’t like that stuff being questioned though so no one did. They just treated him like they had before excluding the, probably odd and messed up to anyone outside of Amity, support of his oddness.

No matter how used to this they were though, Kwan was honestly not prepared to walk into Fenton throwing up chunks of a ghost into the school toilets.

Kwan blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times before finding something to say after opening the -unlocked, what was Fenton thinking?- bathroom stall door. “Ate too much or something? And Fenton, for future reference, for the love of everything, lock the door”. Fenton predictably flips him off over his shoulder while hacking some more.

Kwan sighs, muttering, “why am I always the one to walk in on this stuff”, and walks over to the teen. Kneeling down and rubbing Fenton’s back like he does for his bros when they drink way too much. At least he made it to the bathroom. That was something. Todd literally never did. It was to the point he was banned from drinking heavily at anyone’s house other than his own.

Fenton grumbles, “you-”, hack, “-just have really bad luck”.

Kwan nods, agreeing that might be accurate, “well I’m not sure if this should be more or less embarrassing for you or me”.

Fenton makes a few gagging noises, “too sick to-”, hack, “-be embarrassed”. Which again, Kwan will admit is fair. Vomiting into a toilet, especially a public one, was always embarrassing but no one really thought about that in the moment. Especially if he couldn’t even be bothered to lock the bloody door.

After a bit Fenton sits back on his heels, arms on his knees, and looks to Kwan, “ugh, probably gonna get sick a bit more before it’s outta my system”. Kwan gives him a probably rather pained cringy smile at that, though noting how the whites of the smaller teens' eyes were pale green; which he doesn’t think has been something anyone has seen before. Maybe Fenton was actually sick? “Getting what out of your system?”.

Fenton rubs the back of his hand over his mouth, scowling down at the green smeared there, before actually answering, “ah. Well”, readjusting and shaking his head while mumbling something about him probably deserving some answers for this shit. Which while Kwan doesn’t actually think is the case, he still would like to know. Finding out things about Fenton has become kinda a fun game. So he keeps his mouth shut and lets Fenton continue, “so I had -let’s call it ‘breakfast’- things didn’t smell right but I’ve barely had any sleep and do I really care? No. I’ve drunk rotten milk before. But now I’m pretty well positive someone went and ecto-poisoned the NeverWoods or something”.

Kwan blinks, well that was a dick move. Sure the NeverWoods produced a lot of ghost plants and the Whisps and shit but that was cool and the things were cute. He even had one of the little blob guys as a pet, Fenton had nonchalantly given him food for the little guy. Which was weird ‘cause he had been nervous the odd teen would try to eat his pet or something when he found out. Like how some people ate rabbits and horses. Shaking his head a little, “so... so this is more, uh, food poisoning than anything else?”. Fenton shrugs but holds up a finger and leans back over the toilet; promptly throwing up again. Fenton grumbling after hacking a bit, “I’ll be fine”.

Kwan believes that, when is Fenton ever not okay? “Eh, this is as good an excuse as any to skip health”. Fenton chuckles a little, “your fault for putting it off ‘till senior year”. Kwan just shrugs and gives an agreeing, “yeah”, but hey, at least it was easy.

Kwan speaks up again as Fenton’s just been leaning over the toilet hacking and make other sounds the jock was more used to hearing late at night than mid-morning, “I'm guessing that whatever was done to the woods ain’t good for all the ecto there?”.

Fenton hacks a bit more, “no man, obviously”, spits into the toilet bowl and turns to look at him, “if I can’t handle it in my system then they certainly can’t”. Kwan frowns, “well damn”, speaking back up at Fenton rolling his eyes and turning back to the toilet, “so... what we gonna do about it? I take it goth girlfriend isn’t going to take that lying down, especially with you hacking into a gross ass toilet over it”, making a point to chuckle, “though hunter girlfriend might approve of it”. Pretty well everyone called those three friends of his his girlfriends and boyfriend, largely because it was funny. Fenton predictably moves his arm back to shove him over. Him banging the stall door open as a result and just letting himself land on the ground -kid was strong alright?- just as Dash and Dale come in.

“There you are man! We’ve been looking- hey is that Fenton?”. Said teen just groans, it sounds more out of annoyance than sickness though, even if he does throw up again.

Dale chuckles, “well looks like someone’s losing their lunch, or breakfast really. Or did he just spend the whole night drinking”, and smirks.

Kwan gets up and closes the stall door to give the kid some privacy. “More like got second-hand poisoning. Someone went and poisoned the NeverWoods or something like that”. Both other jocks scowl immediately. Dash snapping, “oh that is so not cool”. Dale nodding in agreement, “we should pummel whoever”.

That gets a chuckle from inside the stall, “I’d place my bets on the G.I.W., my folks ain’t the type”, followed by more hacking and spitting sounds, “and Val knows better”. They all know that what he means by that is that she wouldn’t go poisoning a place she knows is something of a ‘hunting ground’ for her friend. That girl hated ghosts a lot but not enough to go getting a living person -humanity questionable or not- sick. And his parents really were the more ‘shoot their heads off’ type. Kwan hums, “see now this sounds like a good excuse to go ransack their compound”. Dash and Dale immediately grin meanly, “oh Hell yeah. we’ve been waiting for an excuse to do that”, which as true. The whole town hated those men. For a lot of reasons. Everything from blowing up buildings to murder attempts to trying to tax them for the ghost problem; plus, the town all agreed they were way too violent with ghosts. Even Valerie/Red did.

Fenton grumbles, “this town is insane”.

Dash rolls his eyes, “says the guy who eats ghosts”.

“The fact that none of y’all even-”, hack, “-treat me weird over that now is part of the insanity”.

All three boys make waving off motions at the door, “eh, we love and support our local monster”.

“Then why do you still shit-kick me?”.

Dash smirks, “got an image and norm to maintain. Highschool hierarchy to uphold, Fenton”. They all hear the teen grumble back, “you know normally, sheep don’t go around poking wolves”. They decidedly ignore the low-key sorta implied threat of him eating them; everyone knew by now that the kid wouldn’t actually do that. Alpha predator or not. Even if he probably could.

They can hear him flush and get up, opening the stall door seconds later. His face looked practically flushed a kinda sickly green, he glares at them anyway, “if you’re really gonna do that then you have my full support and involvement”. That makes the three jocks grin and cheer. And all it takes to get Fenton’s three friends in on it was dragging Fenton over to them and blurting out that the G.I.W. poisoned him. Which they oddly seemed less surprised and more just fed up about.

[sp00kworm]

A Den of Iniquity (Part 5)

Pairing: Dracula/Count Dracula/Vlad Tepes x Female Reader

Warnings: Death, Murder, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Violence, Vomiting and Adult content.

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Part 1   Part 2     Part 3   Part 4 

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Anne’s ability to remain sober was yet to be seen. Dracula felt amusement ripple through him as his shadowed fingers moved along the walls of her basement home once again. She was asleep in front of her sofa, sleeping off the night shift she had just finished. The sun wasn’t up yet this late into the winter, and so, Dracula’s powers were not weakened by the threat of the sunrise. His smoke curled from the shadows, rippling in a wave down the walls, collecting on the floor like a pool of liquid nitrogen, cold and churning. The vampire’s form took shape within the rippling cloud before he reached within to produce the Van Helsing’s family book. The cracked leather back contacted the coffee table with a dull thump and Dracula turned his red eyes on the sleeping form of Anne. She didn’t stir. The vampire opened the book to the front page as he reformed into a human shape, his gloved fingers peeling free a page of her notebook silently.  Dracula took her pen from the table and penned out a message in old cursive just to spite the woman’s eyesight.

 ‘Perhaps we can talk about the mysteries of the darkness once more in the morgue? This evening.’

 With a curl to the end of his name, the vampire tucked the note inside the front cover and closed the book carefully, admiring the old cursive of Abraham’s writing as he made sure to place it in front of her. The vampire snatched the whiskey from her hand and replaced the lid before moving to tuck it away in her cabinet once more. He paused as he peered inside at the three other bottles. He looked at the label of the bottle in his hand, contemplative of such a desire to drink, before he replaced it in her cupboard and left in a rush of cold mist, trickling from her window over the small garden and out into the night once more.

Anne woke up with a start. Her neck burned with agony from being laid against her armchair, her head pressed back against the side of the headrest. With a groan, she raised her head and clutched at the back of her neck, trying to rub some blood flow back into the region. The sunlight was harsh against her eyes. She’d forgotten to close the curtains again when she got home. Anne looked at the window, glaring at the sunshine as she untucked herself from the armchair and glanced at the heavy, coffee table in front of her. Her blue eyes widened with disbelief as she gazed at the leather cover of her family’s Vampirology book. It was laid beside her empty whiskey tumbler. In a rush, she grasped the book from the table and cracked open the cover.  A piece of paper skittered free, flopping onto the side of the armchair. Anne scowled as she plucked the paper from the armrest. Vladimir. That damn Vampire had been in her home once more. She read the cursive and scoffed before angrily slamming her book down onto the coffee table.

“That fucking vampire.” She ran her fingers through her hair, huffing and puffing to herself as she stormed over to the window and looked though. It was open. She slammed the window shut before balling Dracula’s note into a small ball and throwing it at her desk in the corner of the lounge. With a growl she kicked the armchair before taking a deep breath and picking up the balled-up note and rereading it. On the back there was a carefully written date and time.

 It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. The King of Vampires knew where she lived anyway.

 The packets of cigarettes weren’t really a good substitute for the drinking, Anne figured out as she stood on top of the hospital roof, by the huge incineration chimneys. The incinerators were not burning, so she was free to smoke up on the roof for a while.

A rush of wind made her shudder before a smooth voice spoke behind her, “It is a beautiful night.” Dracula purred from above her. She pushed away from the wall and took a long drag of her cigarette as she looked up at the vampire who hung from the bar fixings of a satellite on the roof. A creature wrapped in its own wings morphed into the shape of a man, covered in a dark coat. He flopped from the bar yet landed like a predator, gracefully on his feet, his black coat hiding his form, wrapped around him tightly. Anne tapped the end of her cigarette, flicking ash onto the floor as she watched the monster walk across the roof, his heeled shoes silent against the concrete.

“Maybe for beasts like you. I’m fucking cold.” She took another drag of her cigarette and ignored the vampire as he loomed over her, stood inches from her back.

Dracula grinned with fangs, “Those sticks will kill you, hunter.” His voice curled in her ears like a dark promise.

“I’ll be dead with the liver cirrhosis first.” Anne stubbed the end out against the bricks before she dropped the end into the wall mounted ashtray, “What do you want, Dracula? Weren’t we meant to meet in the morgue?”

 Anne turned around into his chest and scowled at the closeness, looking up at his human face with distaste. A pale face was framed with dark hair which twisted with a mind of its own. His eyes were human-like, the dark brown almost black as he rubbed at the pointed facial hair on his jaw. The vampire’s hands stretched out between the two of them, and his fingers uncurled to reveal a single glass vial.

“Your blood?” Anne looked at the vial suspiciously, “What do you want me to do with it?”

Dracula’s other hand disappeared behind his own back before Anne gasped. A smoky hand revealed itself, her blade clutched in his hand. The vampire grinned with a hiss, mocking her as he tossed the weapon behind himself.

“Do what you want with it. Try and find a way to kill me. Seek cures for your diseases or simply drink it. I care not.” He hissed at the sight of her crucifix and flicked a finger, watching the silver melt from her neck before he continued, “Consider it a payment in blood for your…help.” He drawled the word before dropping the vial into Anne’s outstretched hand, “May its mysteries unravel swiftly, Doctor.”

 She wasn’t fooled. Dracula wasn’t an idiot. He wanted her to have his blood for a reason.

“You’re a creature of lies, Dracula. I’m not an idiot. I know when I am being made fun of.” Anne eyed the blade behind his imposing figure, “You must know, that after six hundred years, there is no return from the damnation of death you have chosen?”

Dracula looked at her, his eyes bleeding to red as the wind whipped at both of them, “The blood is the life.” He offered before he stepped back towards the shadows, his body melting into them as he flashed white fangs, “Perhaps you can find the answers of that life?” He laughed as he disappeared, not a trace of his red eyes or white teeth left in the shadows of the hospital as Anne rushed for her blessed blade.

The vial of blood was cold in her hand and she looked at the label with her glasses perched on the end of her nose. His office number was penned over the sticky note.

 The vampire watched the moon as he soared over the London rooftops, contemplating the foolishness of his own actions. Perhaps, he had just handed the key to his demise to a Van Helsing. The last descendant of the line. The last one that could kill him. There was a secret in his own condition. What he was could not be changed, he was too steeped in blood for that, but perhaps he could find the key to saving someone? Death wanted you. It wanted your life, but your soul would be damned, slipping through his fingers to hell if he did not act before the creature sought to take you. To condemn a person to darkness was for them to never be the same. A walking corpse and a shell of a person, filled with the desire to drink, sin and kill. He remembered, vividly, the feeling of your spectre on top of him and wondered if that was the future as he opened his wings and swooped down towards St.Paul’s Cathedral. His claws gripped at the tip of the spire on top of the dome. The night was loud beneath the building, taxis beeping still in the streets below. Humans never did truly rest anymore. Dracula peered at the stars with hellish eyes and watched the clouds roll over them, a cold fog dripping over the buildings around him from the drop in temperature.

 Dogs barked as he soared away from the cathedral, his wings spread as he caught the frigid wind and climbed higher over the city, gazing down at the orange streetlamps glittering below. It was a beautiful place, full of life even at a late hour. He compared his previous knowledge about London to its current state and purred at the delightful tastes of the humans scuttling below. People from all walks of life. Thinking of the taste of blood made him hunger for it and the vampire circled slowly towards the night time clubbing scene as he thought on the words of Death. Her death. As he landed, he felt his wings fall back into a coat and looked at the entrance to one of the rock bars. A man was outside in the fresh air of the side alley, looking up at the sky. His arms were covered in gooseflesh as she shivered in the cold of the November air, his vest clearly not the correct choice for the weather. Dracula watched from the streetlamp as he pulled his phone from his pocket and began typing something on it. The vampire walked across the road, his dark eyes flashing as he turned his influence on the man, churning his thoughts with desires he never knew he had until the darkness played with them. The man turned his head and opened his mouth as he looked at the vampire walking towards him.

 Dracula peered down at the young man, “Good evening.” Hypnotism clouded the man’s eyes as he reached to brush a finger over his cheek, nail dragging against the skin.

“Your place or mine?” He asked as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

The vampire pressed him against the alley and covered his eyes before feeling the heaviness of hunger in his gut and the sharpness of his own teeth, “Here is fine.” He muttered as he exposed the man’s neck, holding his legs open so it would appear like a tryst in the alleyway if anyone were to walk past. His gloved hand muffled the scream that escaped the man as he bit into his neck, hard and deep. Blood spurted over his tongue as he lapped at the wounds, sucking harshly before it started to flow by itself, the artery spurting violently from the damage of his teeth. His stomach ached with fullness as he tore himself away and licked at the wounds, looking at the puckered flesh as he cleaned the neck completely clean. Dracula took his scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around the man’s shoulders and neck, hiding the damage as he tucked him close to the alley entrance and slipped into the shadows once more.

“You will remember nothing of this. Go home. Sleep.”

A moment later, the man awoke with a groan, clasping his neck and head in pain before he shivered and pulled the shawl of the scarf tighter around himself, hailing a taxi from the side of the road. The vampire licked blood from his chin as he turned down a side road, the feed not helping to clear his mind any.

 “I’ll be home tomorrow morning, Drac. Sue said she’d come in and check in on you early and I filled your bowls.” You looked at your cat and sighed. He was sulking, tucked up on top of the cupboards again out of the way, “Be good!” You tugged his tail and dodged his paw before you picked up your overnight bag and headed towards your door. You locked it and tugged the handle before descending the stairs and heading towards the pavement. There, parked up on the curb, was a slick black car. The tinted glass slid down smoothly, and Vladimir poked his head out of the car, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he smiled at your approach.

“Somehow I’m not surprised by the BMW.” You joked as you looked at him through the window. He was dressed in a heavy turtleneck jumper, his hair tied back with tight jeans ironed to perfection. Vlad open the door of the driver’s seat and shuddered in the cold.

“It was more money than I expected to pay.” He opened the back of the car with a press of a button and huffed, “I think the dealer got most of what I paid.”

“Imagine that being your only concern.” You laughed and rolled your eyes, “It is a gorgeous car.” You complimented as you put your bag in the back and walked around to the passenger seat. Vladimir made no move to open you the door but simply climbed back inside and pushed the stick into gear as you clipped your belt into place.

“Let us go, then. I have a few things for us to do.” He pulled away from your home and shop with a spin of the wheel.

“Does that list include the movies you promised?” You glanced around at the interior of the car.

“But of course!”

 His home was as grand as ever, though devoid of any extra staff this time. You looked at the wood to carpet floors and sighed. It was a dream home. You looked at the curtains and rugs and smile at the change from red to purple.

“Did you get new curtains because of me?” You asked as you pulled your coat free and felt your hair. It was raining outside, in a typical November fashion, and you made sure to hang your coat a little closer to the radiator on the stand, so it would dry and not smell too musty from the rainwater.

Vladimir tugged at his jumper and decided it was dry enough to not change before he replied, “I might have changed them. I decided royal purple was more fit for a woman of your stature, madame.” He dipped to take your hand, kissing it like a prince before he laughed joyously and twirled you under his arm.

You were a little overwhelmed with the treatment and blushed at the attention as Vladimir spun you towards the stairs.

“You can put your bag in the guest bedroom.” Vladimir pointed to the top of the stairs and turned his finger to the right, “It is the door to the right of the bathroom. Second door on the right.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled and took your bag handles in your hand before climbing the stairs to deposit your things in the guest bedroom.

 It smelt of fresh roses. Fresh Tudor roses sat in a vase on the vanity by the window. The soft scent wafted across the fresh bedding and permeated from the curtains that were drawn over the window. It was dark now outside, the winter making the days incredibly short. With another inhale of the fresh smell, you placed your bag on the bed and smiled around at the décor. It was all expensive. Real wood and shined wax surfaces with rich coloured walls. There was even a canopy bed. You pulled the ties from the sheer curtains and watched them fall with a grin. It was a room fit for a princess. You took your toiletry bag from your satchel and walked to the vanity. It was cleaned and lined with intricate glass bottles, made for expensive oil-based perfumes. The toiletries in your bag paled in comparison to how much the Egyptian glass bottles must have cost Vladimir. The stopper was hard to pull out but when it popped free you hummed at the smell of the Myrrh based perfume. You looked at the oil inside and frowned as the liquid dripped up to the edge of the bottle. A drop of oil clung to the corner and you pressed your finger to it before dabbing it against your neck. Another drop followed it. It dripped, floating upwards before dropping back into the bottle as though it had never defied gravity. You took the stopper and tapped it back into the bottle before dabbing the oil on your neck, a dot behind each ear and one on each wrist. It was a heavy smell. A light scent of cinnamon mixed in with cardamom behind a heavy base of Myrrh.

 Vladimir was sprawled out on a large sofa in the lounge, his feet up on a stool and his fingers playing with the buttons of his remote control for the television. You smiled as you entered the room, playing with the corner of your top before you sat in the spare seat next to him, tucking your feet under yourself as you looked at the television. He’d been passing the time with dramas, though his phone on the cushions told you he hadn’t been bothered for actually watching what was playing. Vladimir held his arm up off the cushions and curled the fingers of his other hand. For a moment, you were apprehensive, but you were quickly swayed by the idea of a hug, and scooted along the cushions before letting Vladimir tug you close, hugging you to his side as he offered you the television remote.

“Guest’s choice first, my dear.” Vladimir let you take the remote and ran his fingers over your hair before lowering his nose beneath your chin, “Did you use a perfume?” He asked as he tucked cold fingers under your chin, swiping it over your skin before sniffing at the smell on his hands, “Myrrh is expensive. A good choice.”

Embarrassment coloured your skin, “It smelt nice so I…”

“I’m not mad. They are made for using.” Vladimir cooed before he watched you open the various streaming services he had.

 “What was it that you wanted to watch?” You asked Vladimir as he pushed your drink across the coffee table and handed you a menu for take-out.

The business owner hummed, “There was a film.” He opened his hand before pointing to the screen as you scrolled over a film, “That one. About…Ah yes. The monster and the woman. Apparently, it won awards, no?” He asked as you clicked open the film for him to see.

“It did win a lot of awards, yeah.” You confirmed as he settled back against the cushions, his arm wrapped around you firmly, holding you against his side as you pressed play, “What do you want to order?” You asked, holding out the menu for him to see, “Chinese?”

“I’m not hungry. I had a business dinner before three o’clock. Order what you want, my dear. I’ll pay for it.” He offered as you hummed, “I have heard that the chow mein from there is good.”

You laughed at his pronunciation but nodded none the less, “I think I’ll get that then.” The menu had the number on the back, and you rang to order before returning your attention back to the movie that Vladimir had requested be put on. It was about a mute woman and her fish god lover. You quickly became entranced, warily pressed up against Vladimir as his hand circled your waist.

 The blood pumping against him was a temptation he was now very able to resist. Hundreds of years meant he could control himself. It was a short leash, and he felt the urge to simply feel the crunch of bone and meat under his teeth intensely. His leash grew a little shorter as he ghosted his fingers over your wrist, feeling the thumping of a nervous heart underneath the skin. Dracula’s ear perked at the door and he took the excuse to escape the blood and flesh that felt so divine underneath his fingers. He heard you pause the movie and cursed that you were listening.

“Hi. Chinese delivery.” The driver offered him the bag of food.

The vampire smiled thinly, “Thank you.” He gave the man a twenty-pound note, “Now please take your multi-tool and cut your arm.” The words were carried on a heavy breeze, thick and laced with temptation. The delivery man’s eyes went cloudy, unfocused as he tugged a swiss army knife from his pocket and flicked open the blade. The vampire watched him cut the skin and hissed through his teeth, opening his mouth as the man held his arm higher in the air, letting blood fall from his skin. Dracula shuddered as he opened his mouth to catch the stray drops. He licked the skin with a cold tongue, smearing pink spit in his wake as he sucked fast mouthfuls of blood into his mouth, thankful all the curtains were drawn to hide him.

 “Have you got enough money to pay?”

 The vampire released the wound and licked the blood from his mouth, his meal settling in his stomach. He licked a drop of blood from the plastic bag handle and wiped at his mouth.

“Have a good evening, sir.” He spun his index finger and watched the delivery driver nod and disappear back towards his car, blood dripping down towards his fingers, “I’ve got enough don’t worry.” He clinked some coins in his pocket and closed the door as the driver pulled out of his drive and onto the street. He grabbed a tissue and wiped his face. There was only a small trickle of blood and he sucked at his teeth before he went to the kitchen to fetch you a plate and cutlery.

Vladimir smiled under your gaze as he entered the lounge again, “I got you a few things. I didn’t know whether you would eat it out of the box?” He placed the plate and cutlery down followed by your food.

“Thank you. You’re sweet.” You cooed at him as he sat back down, “Oh. I think they spilt some sauce on the box.” You grumbled at the splodge of blood on top of the plastic box. He felt his heart sink a little before you simply wiped it away with a curl of your nose. Dracula smiled as you tucked into the food, settled back at his side as you ate quietly. He restarted the movie, feeling relief flood his system as you didn’t question the mysterious red substance.

 The beast purred at the idea of the next meal being you. His gripped your thigh gently to ground himself. You were not a meal to be eaten and wasted. He wouldn’t throw you at Death’s feet.

 After a movie named ‘The Others’ you both decided it was getting to be late. You looked at the clock and hummed against his side, fingers curling into the black jumper over Vladimir’s chest. It was a fine make, expensive wool soft under your fingers, and you smiled sleepily up at him as he adjusted you, sitting you in his lap, your thighs either side of his own. It was intimate, but you found your heart soaring at the contact and at the idea of where it meant you both were with each other.

“Are you tired, my dear?” He asked softly, his nose pressed to your ear before he leaned down to kiss your shoulder, the smell of Myrrh intoxicating.

“Mmm.” You hummed, fingers playing with the ends of his beautifully wavy hair, the dark, black locks slipping through your fingers like snakes.

“Would you like to rest now?” Vladimir made a pleased noise at the attention to his hair.

Your fingers paused in his locks, “I’d like a shower…If that’s alright?” You asked quietly.

“That is more than fine.” He nodded before letting you stand up, his cool fingers lingering against your hands as you stood, “You know where the bathroom is, yes?”

“First door on the right. I know.”

“I’ll bring you some fresh towels.” He promised as you left the room, closing the door behind you.

 The vampire felt his stomach churn with an unknown sensation, the memory of you against him, burned into his skin like a fever.

 The water was hot against your skin, soothing the ache in your back from working at the counter the whole day serving tourists. You rubbed at your skin with the minty smelling soap, enjoying the tingle of peppermint over your skin as you washed the lather of soap away. The wet room was slate and sparklingly clean. The glass fogged and you turned in the spray, admiring the chrome shelving and posh soaps and shampoos Vladimir had carefully lined up. A need burned in your stomach, but you ignored the temptation to stir the fire smouldering down there as you turned and swiped at the fog over the glass. Vladimir’s cool hands would make a better job of sating your desires. You were quick to dismiss the idea and turned back into the hot water. That was until the door creaked open behind you.

“I have brought you towels.” Vladimir spoke from the door before pausing, watching your skin disappear as the swiped area of the glass fogged back up, slowly making your form disappear from his view once more, “Forgive me…” He spoke loud enough to just be heard over the harsh spray of water, “But you are beautiful.” Vladimir complimented as he placed the pile of fresh towels on top of the toilet lid

 Burning water did not cool your skin as you listened to his voice. You turned under the hot water as you listened to him step closer to the shower screens. You heart thudded in your chest, shaking your hands as you took a step closer to the glass as well.

“You are radiant.” Vladimir purred, “Gorgeous like a goddess. Something to be worshipped.” You looked at the figure beyond the foggy glass and watched him place his hand against the screen.

All of a sudden, you managed to find your voice, “Is that what you say to them all?” The words were half choked in your throat, but Vladimir heard them all the same.

“I have only said those words once before…and she is gone now.” He promised. You could feel the agony in his words and you glanced at the glass before wiping away the condensation to reveal his face, intense eyes looking into your own, despite not being able to see you until a moment ago, “She is dead and no other has ever…filled the hole.” He pressed his forehead to the glass. His dark eyes shimmered with a colour you had never seen before he smiled and turned away from you, “I will leave you. I apologise for being so forward.”

Before he could leave, you opened the shower door and grabbed for a towel, hiding your body from his eyes before he could see you again.

 “I…I don’t.” Your mouth seized as his eyes turned darker, a smirk curling on his lips as he admired you, even hidden behind a towel.

“Won’t you let me see you?” Vladimir whispered, “Won’t you let me worship you?” He asked as he came closer, his hands reaching to cup your waist as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart thundered underneath his touch, “I don’t know if I should let you.”

Vladimir’s nose pushed under your chin as he smelt the heavy scent of the Myrrh perfume still clinging to your damp skin, “And why not? Why deny yourself such pleasure?”

You reached for his hair again and pushed it away from his cheek, “Because I don’t feel like I know you.” You confessed, “I don’t know who you really are.”

Vladimir looked at you, your faces close, your noses brushing together before he leaned down to place a single kiss to your lips.

 Together, you melded against one another, hands clutching each other at you deepened the kiss a little. He pulled away as quickly as the feverishness began.

“I can tell you. Soon, I will tell you everything.” He promised as you looked at his handsome face. His eyes were wet, red at the corners before he hugged you tightly, “I…I think I feel something deeply for you. I understand this is a lot.” He confessed to you in a rush, shuddering against you as though he was crying.

“I…” Your mouth was dry, “I think I feel the same, but I don’t…I can’t explain it.” You whispered against his jumper.

Vladimir pushed his fingers into your flesh, as though you were going to disappear, “I can’t either.” He agreed, “But I know that I want to be with you…However you want me.” The man fell to his knees, “I am your servant.” The man’s hands grazed up your legs, slowly, dragging cold lines behind his fingertips as he looked up at you, hair falling over his eyes and cheeks.

You reached for his face with a soft smile, “I don’t want a servant.” He let you tug him back to his feet, “I want an equal.”

Vladimir’s lips met your own in a crush of passion, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he held you as close as he could manage, his arms moving from your face to clutch your body close.

 “Do you think you could love a monster?”

“If that monster loved me, I could.”

 The sound of an alarm sounding woke you up. It was loud, a persistent beeping noise against the drowsiness in your head. It was sharp and ear piercing. You rushed to find your phone at the noise, rustling in the duvet to find it. After a moment, you opened your eyes, and found the phone on top of the nightstand. You silenced your alarm and groaned into the room as you tried to force the sleep from yourself. The room was silent now. You dragged your phone from the stand and squinted at the time before rolling over and realising you were alone. It was nine in the morning and Vladimir was nowhere to be seen. You sat up with the sheets and looked down at yourself. You were naked yet there was no ache in your body. There was no mess either. Nothing had happened. You remembered laying on top of Vladimir, kissing him between tales from his homeland as you listened and learned. The tale of the beast in the castle. The River Princess. The fog in the hills. All of it fascinated you. You’d listened to the sound of his voice, late into the evening, tracing patterns on his skin as he rumbled with laughter.

 The bedside table rustled as you placed your hand on it. You frowned and gripped a piece of paper. It was labelled with your name. You unfolded the paper and looked at the note inside. Vladimir had an early meeting to attend. A sadness curled in your chest as you sat up properly and peered at the grandness of Vladimir’s own bedroom. You got out of the bed and walked over to his vanity before frowning. All the mirrors were covered in black silk, hidden out of view. You pulled back one of the sheets and looked in the floor standing mirror. It was in good shape yet old, like an antique. Your own face looked back before you re-covered the mirror. There wasn’t anything different in Vladimir’s room until you caught sight of the great portrait on the old chimney breast. A painted man looked down at you, a sword laid across his lap. You looked at the sword mounted underneath the painting and gazed in awe at the sharpness and magnificence of them both. Wondering if he was a collector, you took one of Vladimir’s red robes from his door and tied it around your waist before venturing to get some breakfast.

 Dracula hissed as the door closed, blood spurting from his mouth, his latest meal laid in the soil next to him as he purred, claws slipping further into the earth as he listened to you move. The sound of silk over skin made him gurgle again as he closed his eyes, wishing that the night could replay over and over in his mind.

 ‘I know you have gone home but thank you for spending last night with me. I adored it. Will I see you again soon?’

You smiled down at your phone as you paused eating your lunch inside your shop. You replied with a witty comment and waited for his reply before going back to your lunch, thinking on the way Vladimir’s hands could hold you in other ways. Your brain skittered into the gutter for the rest of the afternoon.

 Anne held the glass slide in her hand as she tried to comprehend what she was holding in her hand. It was beyond what she had seen before. Nothing compared. No disease had such virulence nor the ability to do what she had seen from Dracula’s own cells. His lymphatic cells were an amazing thing to watch, simultaneously killing and repairing the red blood cells, making them immortal. The blood she had originally was just as active now in her hands. She’d injected a rat with a small does, just to see what happened. The beast had appeared unfazed initially. Slowly, it had died off, its legs stopping working before she did the kindness and put the animal to sleep. It hadn’t died from the drugs. She ended up having to take the creature’s head off. Immortality. The rat was impervious to chemicals and drugs that could kill. It was an amazing thing, but Anne wasn’t swayed. She knew what the blood meant, and what it was capable of. A constant state of death and life. A curse upon those who were infected with Dracula’s blood. Damnation from God. Rejection of the light was not curable. She needed to tell the vampire that. He was beyond the help of mortals. Damned forever. He could live as a hunted beast or die by her hands.

 “A frown makes you look older.” Dracula rumbled from underneath her. Red eyes opened in her shadow and Anne jumped backwards as the beast slid from her shadow and coalesced into a physical form. The shadows swirled into the human form of Dracula and Anne levelled him with a look of contempt.

“Has six hundred years taught you no manners?” She huffed as he drew the vial of the vampire’s blood from her coat and held it up for him to see. There was a little more than half left, “I wanted to tell you about this.” She tossed the blood back at the vampire.

Dracula caught the vial and took the top from the vial, smelling his own blood before he stuck out a pointed, long tongue, a mouth full of pointed teeth opening wide as he took his own blood back into himself.

“What did you find, Anne?” He asked as he tucked his hands into his pockets, licking blood from his bottom lip.

“Everything I expected to find. Your own cells are killing themselves and then repairing at a rate that is explosive. You shouldn’t be moving at all.” She huffed, “Though I suppose you aren’t alive. You’re a monster. A walking corpse.” Anne took a holy blade from her sleeve and watched as the vampire’s hair waved over his head in a mind of its own.

 “You raise a blade to me after I gave you the answer to eternal life?” Dracula’s voice boomed off the concrete of the rooftop, “After I gave you the answers to everything?” He snarled as his hair covered his face, blood red eyes burning through the strands as he took his hands from his pockets and watched the hands grow and shift into snarling curls of shadowy monsters.

“I raise my blade at a beast and a monster. A creature that has killed for fun, enjoyment and sport. You enjoy all of this. You enjoy playing with people like a game!” She hissed at him as she drew a long sword from her belt. A sword and a dagger. Dracula’s mouth opened up the sides of his face as he faced the hunter, eyes peering from a moving creature of shadows.

“This is the face of life!” He howled at Anne, shadows bursting from him as dogs howled at the night sky below.

“You are nothing but corruption and death!” She shouted back, her feet planted firmly on the floor as the vampire hissed and spat across from her. Without another thought, she sent a small blade flying towards his red eyes. The shadows moved into two pieces, and the dagger flew through him before she was upon him with blessed steel. Her swipes swished through nothing but air as Dracula soared into the sky above her and dived, great clawed talons scratching at her face. Anne launched her dagger at him as he climbed once more and grinned at the vampire howled, blood spurting from his grey skinned side.

 With a growl, she watched the vampire soar into the night sky, escaping with her blade lodged under his ribs. The night sky was littered with cold looking stars, clouds rolling over the moon as she watched the bat wings disappear behind the church and rooftops. It was a moment later that she looked at the scratches on her arms and the trail of wet saliva over one of them. Dracula had tasted her blood. He knew her plans, or at least pieces of them. She cursed the beast as she got to her feet, sheathing her old sword before collecting the holy throwing daggers from the rooftop. Anne tucked her coat back around her weapons and looked at her ward watch which was clipped to her pocket. Her shift started in an hour. She had enough time to return home and clean herself before she had dead bodies to look at and examine.

“I’ll finish my family’s work, Dracula…” She opened the stairs, “Starting with that new toy of yours.” The stairwell doors closed with a resounding slam.

[monstersdownthepath]

Spiritual Spotlight: Tanagaar the Aurulant Eye

Lawful Good Empyreal Lord of Night, Owls, and Watchfulness

Domains: Animal, Darkness, Good, Law Subdomains: Archon, Feather, Moon, Night

Chronicles of Righteousness, pg. 25

Obedience: Find and observe a mouse or rat from no more than 30 feet away. Continue watching the mouse, unseen, for 100 breaths. Catch the mouse and release it in an area where owls hunt. Benefit: Gain a +4 sacred bonus on saving throws against effects that would hinder your sight or hearing.

Oh my god

After all these years, after all this searching, we’ve finally found it. We’ve found an Obedience that justifies carrying around a Sack Of Rats! It’s a miracle!

Anyway, this Obedience is ironically somewhat difficult to perform if your DM is being a stickler about it. Note that you not only have to find a rat--which means if you’re using a Sack Of Rats, you have to release it and then relocate it--but you have to watch it while being unseen. While one may assume that “unseen” simply applies to the rodent in question, the linguistic gymnastics we tend to pull here at Monsters Down The Path LLC to cheese Obediences sometimes works against us, and in this case “unseen” may not simply apply to your prey, but anyone. If your DM applies this additional stipulation, I hope you’ve got a good Stealth mod! And a good excuse about your weird behavior.

While Tanagaar isn’t exactly an evil guy, he’s not especially well-known, and your weird prowling may get some raised eyebrows. The good news is that as a Lawful Good deity (and an Archon at that), the number of times you’re likely to be sent into Evil territory to subtly work among them is 0, reducing your chances of needing actual excuses about why you’re skulking around like a cat. If, for whatever reason, you want to keep your worship of the Aurulant Eye under wraps, simply being a catfolk, kobold, or goblin is a good enough excuse.

Next comes catching the vermin and releasing it in an area where owls hunt. Simple enough in almost any environment but a desolate stretch of empty desert, winter wasteland, or subterranean cavern, as owls are very widespread, to the point that this Obedience could simply say “release it into the wild.” The biggest problem is refreshing your rodent stock, an issue that goes largely unaddressed in other Sack Of Rats Obediences because those usually require the death of any small critter, and this one specifically requires rodents. Better take up rat catching as a hobby or frequent the local pet store, I guess!

The benefit is more amazing than it looks at first glance, because Monsters Down The Path LLC’s patented Linguistic Gymnastics is here to point out that any effect which could impair your sight or hearing is blocked, even if that effect is SECONDARY, such as against powerful spells like Sunburst or against afflictions like Blinding Disease. Having your senses stripped from you is always bad, even for a short time, but the fact this benefit applies to “any effect” that would “hinder” your sight or hearing means it works on everything from having dust blow in your eyes to an enemy’s Greater Shout, and it can potentially give you an edge against dozens or hundreds of other effects which tack on sensory abuse as a bonus effect, making it a fantastic bonus at all levels. It even applies to EVERY saving throw instead of just Fortitude!

Boons are gained slowly, typically achieved once you reach 12, 16, and 20 Hit Dice. Followers of the Empyreal Lords, however, can enter the Mystery Cultist Prestige Class at level 8, which grants them their Boons much quicker! Entered as early as possible, you gain the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Mystery Cultists MUST take the Celestial Obedience feat, NOT Deific Obedience.

Empyreal Lords do not grant the typical Evangelist/Exalted/Sentinel spread (and cannot enter those classes), instead having only one set of Boons granted to their followers regardless of their class.

Boon 1: Forest Dweller. Gain Calm Animals 3/day, Eagle Eye2/day, or Deeper Darkness 1/day.

Oh, interesting! Never seen Eagle Eye here before, and it’s actually a good spell! ... sort of. It creates a magical sensor above you, upwards to 400ft+40ft/lvl, from which you can see as though you were there and rotate your viewpoint around freely. It’s more or less to give one a birds-eye view of a battlefield, akin to someone playing an RTS with an over-the-field viewpoint to make commanding armies easier, though the birds-eye view is also very, very useful for spotting threats to a small group of people (such as the party) that they cannot see from the horizontal plane.

Also, needless to say, but having a safe way to see the surrounding terrain from several hundred feet above it can make navigating towards a destination or landmark much easier. With a 1 min/lvl duration and 2/day availability, you can be the party’s aerial lookout without ever actually leaving the ground and putting yourself in danger, and the sensor itself is invisible as well if you fear flying enemies. Eagle Eyes isn’t useful at all inside enclosed environments, and in fact cannot be used to spy into the floors above you unless you have line of effect, but if you want to peel inside, say, the Evil Wizard Tower without alerting them via the use of a familiar or similar, go crazy.

Calm Animals causes up to 2d4+CL HD worth of animals to become docile and harmless for its duration, but for it to actually work on a group of animals, they all must be roughly the same type (i.e. a pack of wolves) and cannot be further than 30ft apart. This isn’t really a problem, as using it on a bunch of angry animals usually means you’re hitting a pack of scavengers or predators you’ve angered, and its generous scaling means that it’ll be useful at all levels of the game whether you need to slow down a charging pack of raptors or just one big T. Rex--wait a T. Rex has how many hit dice? well, scratch that particular idea I guess. unless you get lucky with your 2d4 roll. Still useful. The big problem is that it’s completely useless against anything that’s not an Animal, and if an Animal suddenly receives the gift of sapience--even temporarily--the spell has no effect on them. That makes this spell useful for traveling through the wilds (or, rarely, stopping the charge of an enemy warhorse), but not for much else.

Which leaves Deeper Darkness, the spell which hammers your party just as hard as it does an enemy. Creating a 60ft sphere of absolute black can send chaos through the ranks of more or less any foe, because if the area was already low or dim light it becomes supernaturally pitch that not even darkvision can pierce it! Not even yours. Cutting off your party’s ability to see is just as crippling for them as it is your enemy, so be sure to have some method to actually take advantage of the shroud or you’ll end up swinging at empty air or, worse, swing at allies. While it’s good for making an escape, Obscuring Fog is way better, way cheaper, and doesn’t take away your magical flexibility.

Boon 2: Owl's Eye. You gain darkvision out to a range of 60 feet. If you already have darkvision, increase its range by an additional 60 feet.

Wow! Boring! But useful for more or less everyone, since not needing torches or a light source when skulking around in the dark or keeping night watch makes it less likely you’re spotted by some prowling predator or sadistic dungeon-dweller, but it’s noting spectacular or even particularly noteworthy. I appreciate that Tanagaar extends existing darkvision outwards, but it’s rare you’ll actually need more than 60 feet unless you’re actually adventuring in an open area after dark.

It’s a decent Boon, but it’s also insultingly easy to replicate with existing spells or cheap items (such as a Wand or Potion of Darkvision), making its impact a little hard to appreciate.

Boon 3: Hunter's Edge. You gain Sneak Attack +3d6. This increase to Sneak Attack damage stacks with Sneak Attack damage you may have from other sources. Whenever you deal Sneak Attack damage with a piercing weapon, you deal +2 points of damage per Sneak Attack die.

huh hey that’s pretty good

hey aren’t you supposed to be Lawful, Tanagaar? Not that I don’t appreciate a little bit of pragmatism among the forces of Good, but stabbing someone in the kidney from behind seems kinda underhanded, doesn’t it? Then again, so does summoning flocks of owls to gouge out enemy eyes or appearing before them as a terrifying phantasm to gently coerce them into surrender. Even Law knows when it needs to fight dirty, I suppose.

Not that you HAVE to, mind; with how easy it is to set up a Sneak Attack (you literally just have to be flanking), you don’t have to be particularly sneaky. Just standing across from an ally and stabbing someone in the throat when they turn away from a brief second deals +3d6 damage to them, which is already good before you take into account that, actually, it’s 3d6+6 because Tanagaar superdupercharges your Sneak Attacks with +2 damage per die! Even NOT having SA to begin with is still adding a flat +6 damage to your attacks that stacks with all your other damage modifiers, but having SA available beforehand--such as by being a Rogue, a Ninja, a Slayer, or one of the rare archetypes to hand it out--is especially viable because Hunter’s Edge stacks with ALL other sources. Have +5d6 from your class already? Now it’s 8d6+16 damage.

It’s even tastier if used on a ranged weapon, but make no mistake, it’s still pretty damn nice just at its base regardless of your build... unless you’re a Mystery Cultist, which is aimed mostly at casting and doesn’t get anything particularly martial-aligned until later levels. Classing into Mystery Cultist also means that your Sneak Attack is unlikely to be at all impressive (you may reach 6d6, but certainly not the impressive 8d6 I proposed), but the only other option is waiting for this ability to kick in at level 20, which is simply unacceptable. Aside from that, the only real problem I have with this ability is that it specifically works with piercing weapons... and since Tanagaar’s holy weapon is the kukri, you actually miss this Boon entirely if you stick only to his weapon of choice, and your god actively discouraging you from using any of their sacred aspects isn’t a good look for anyone!

You can read more about him here.

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut later.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

__________________________________________________________

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

Gifts reflect those who give them.

“Are you sure about him?” Tomura asks when Twice insist in the new recruit he found.

“Yes! He wants to meet you, he said something of speaking to you about a deal. Something important.”

Tomura thinks about it. Usually, this kind of decisions are shared between all of them, since he likes to think about the rest of the league as his allies more than his subordinates, respecting their points of view on many subjects.

One could think this is a matter of scheming or something like that, but in reality, it’s just about loyalty. He values choices and determination more even than he value their quirks.

He is a leader, not a boss. By giving them freedom, he gets their trust in return.

“Dabi?”

“I’m down with whatever you decide.”

“huh…Mag- where is Magne and Toga anyway?” He asks annoyed when he notice their absence.

“the girls went to the store.”

“all of them?”

“Yup.”

Tomura groans, rolling his eyes irritated.

“I asked little doc. if she could bring some mochis. I want something sweet.” Spinner points as he prepares himself a sandwich.

“little doc.?” Tomura asks incredulous but the rest of the league seems uncaring of his concerns.

“Some sushi would be good too.” Compress comments playing with a coin between his fingers.

“Not big on fish.” Dabi ads.

“this is a very good sandwich.”

“Give me some.”

“some nigiri maybe.”

“huh…we were talking about meeting a new ally.” The leader points boringly, trying to get the attention back to the original subject.

“We need to find a place to meet them in the meantime.” Spinner says, chewing the sandwich.

“I’ll speak with Giran about it.” Points Twice.

“Good.” Dabi answers and Tomura isn’t sure if he is talking about the plan or the little chunk of sandwich in his hand. “I’m going for a cig. Wanna come, Spinner? Dabi asks, a cigarette already hanging from his lips.

“Yep. Let me grab a Jacket. It’s too cold outside.”

“Hey, Shigaraki. We’ll be watching a movie. Today is romcom day” Twice says, pointing the tv with the control, as he sits in the couch by Compress.

“I need to search for something. Where is-“

“she left the laptop on her desk.” Compress points the main bedroom where her desk is.

“huh…Thanks.”

Tomura decides to stay in the bedroom, since is quieter. He’s searching for his master Doctor, somewhere where he can find him or talk to him, but to no avail, so instead he concentrates in reading the latest news about heroes and what not, time passing by without him noticing it or paying much attention to the sound that come from the living room, when soft steps getting closer make his head turn.

She walks to him, carrying something between her hands, a soft smile adorning her face as she answers something Spinner asks from the kitchen, before turning her head to him.

“May I interrupt you?”

“not really.” He says before spinning in the chair.

She laughs lightly, rolling her eyes.

“I brought you something.” She says, “I don’t really know if you like this one in particular, but I like it, so I hope it’s good enough.”

He stares at her smiling face. A true smile, sincere, honest, and serene and something squirms tightly withing him at the gesture. His eyes open wide and lips part in sincere surprise.

“I thought it would be weird if everyone got something from the store except you.” She adds nervous, a hand rubbing the back of her neck.

Pretty when she smiles like this. A thought that slips quietly between the walls of his mind.

Is nothing like the playful hostility she displays when they play chess or videogames (the last is more like a childish stunt, since she totally sucks at videogames, but she tries her best. He can give her that.) She smiles truly happy. Her eyes closing in a joyful arch, her cheeks rosy and lips showing her pearly teeth as she tends him a can of energy drink he didn’t asked for.

He knows the feeling…he’s not stupid, but that doesn’t make it any less surprising.

The stupid attraction growing inside of him like a wild infection.

Maybe it has to do with her buying something for him without him having to ask, or the fact that since they began playing chess regularly, they had been talking more about common safe ground like movies, games, books and what not, just to discover that she loves tacky horror movies too and is a big fan of the book trilogy his favorite videogame is based on.

The notion of what she thinks of society and the heroes imprinted in his mind word by word. Her mind aware of the injustice and the nature of hero violence.

Just like him.

Maybe is that for once a girl (a pretty one) is nice to him without wincing at his face like he is some kind of feral animal in need of a cage.

He is the monster everyone paints him to be, and yet she treats him…

Like a person.

“huh…thank you.” He states taking the can with three careful fingers, a close-lip smile stretching across his face in response.

She continues delivering everyone’s errands around the house, before heading to the kitchen to make some lunch, chatting about a recipe with Magne, leaving him sitting in a corner of her room, looking at a can of his favorite energy drink.

Chapter 8

[fanficshiddles]

Predator to Prey, Chapter 3

After Loki had captured his sacrifice for the night, he carried her back to the cottage.

The wolf was still hanging around, curious about what was going on. But she was hanging back, staying by the warmth of the fire. She watched as Loki carried the girl kicking and screaming inside.

But the wolf didn’t move from where she lay, her ears were pricked and she listened to the noises that came from the small cottage. Screams, pleas, moans – from both the girl and Loki.

While the wolf was a little intrigued, she stayed put where she was.

-

In the early hours of the morning, Loki saw the girl out. As most of them did, she ran off as quickly as possible.

He smirked as he leaned against the door, he looked over to the fire and noticed the wolf was still lying there, curled up in a ball because the fire had gone out.

Frowning, he slowly made his way over. The wolf sat up suddenly at his presence, looking at him with curiosity over his blue skin.

Loki crouched down to her level. ‘You can come inside you know, if you want somewhere warm to sleep.’

The wolf lowered her head and lay down again, as if telling him that she was staying there. Loki sighed and stood up, he pointed to the fire and used his Seidr to light it again. Then he tossed on a couple more logs that would keep it going till morning.

The wolf looked satisfied with that and let out a big sigh. Loki went back inside, but left the door open for her. Just in-case she changed her mind.

But later in the morning when Loki’s form was back to normal, he noticed the wolf had disappeared. He did wonder where her den was, if she had a pack or was alone. If there were more wolves like her…

The next few days went similar, the wolf continued to visit each afternoon and Loki noticed she liked to spend the night there now, by the fire. So Loki made sure to keep it going for her.

When Loki received his next sacrifice, the wolf was once again by the fire while he courted the girl inside. 

-

Loki had pinned the girl to the wall by the neck and was scaring the life out of her as he fingered her roughly, making her cry and beg for him to stop because he was being too rough. When Loki momentarily let go of her, she made a run for it.

She ran out of the bedroom towards the door, which Loki left open in-case the wolf wanted to come in, but the girl skidded to a halt on the wooden floorboards because standing in the doorway was the magnificent wolf. Looking incredibly intimidating as she made the cottage look tiny from her mere presence there.

The wolf lowered her head and started snarling at the girl. The girl started backing up, but she backed right into a firm object, that object being a cold Jotun Loki.

Loki chuckled wickedly and leaned down, she could feel his cold breath across her neck. Making her shiver even more than she already was in fear. ‘Don’t make any sudden movements, or she will pounce.’ Loki purred softly.

The wolf took a step, widening her stance and making it look like she was preparing to do just that.

‘P… please…. Call her off.’ The girl whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘Oh, darling. I can’t do that. You see, she’s not mine. She’s a free spirit. But you can either come back into the bedroom like a good girl, or take your chances trying to get past her.’ Loki said as he then strolled back into the bedroom.

The girl’s heart was pounding as the wolf kept snarling, eyeing her up. The girl then decided to take her chances with Loki instead and bolted back into the bedroom.

Instead of going back outside, the wolf just lay down by the door. It was warmer inside, even with the door open. And the rug was comfier than the hard ground, too.

A few hours later, the girl came out of the bedroom, her clothes torn and hanging off her. She went to leave but stopped in the middle of the room because the wolf was sleeping right by the door. Loki watched from the bedroom with a smirk as he folded his arms over his chest, wondering what she was going to do to get past the big bad wolf.

The poor girl slowly tiptoed towards the door, she was just passing the wolf when she suddenly snapped towards her ankles, making the girl scream as she ran out the door, not looking back.

Loki threw his head back with laughter. The wolf stood up and stretched, then went to leave.

‘Wait.’ Loki called out, the wolf stopped and looked round at him. ‘You don’t have to leave, you can stay inside. It’s nice having some company.’ He added with a shrug.

The wolf looked outside, it was a chillier night, then she looked back at Loki. She made her decision and lay down again just at the side of the door. Making Loki smile.

‘Let me just make an adjustment, so I can shut the door and keep heat in. But so you can open it whenever you like.’ Loki said and made his way over towards the door. The wolf just watched from where she lay, she was getting more used to him being close to her.

Loki flicked his wrist towards the door, making the handle into a different shape that would be easier for the wolf to open with her mouth.

‘Is that ok?’ He asked.

She looked at the handle and flicked her head up once, which Loki had come to learn meant yes.

He smiled. ‘Good. I’ll see you in the morning, if you’re still here I’ll cook you some breakfast.’ He said as he went off into his bedroom.

The wolf watched him disappear, then lay her head down and closed her eyes for a good sleep.

-

When Loki got up, he found the wolf had moved and was now lying flat out on her side on front of the fire place. He smiled, glad that she felt comfortable enough to lie like that and to come further into the cottage.

As he took out pots and pans to make breakfast, it startled the wolf who had been in a deep sleep, she jumped up with a snarl, slightly disorientated. Loki just paused and looked over at her with an eyebrow up while she had her slight snarling tantrum. Then she looked at Loki and calmed again, remembering he wasn’t a threat.

‘Hungry?’ He asked, putting on bacon, eggs and sausages. Suspecting she would like whatever he cooked anyway.

The wolf licking her lips was enough of an answer for him.

As he cooked the food, the wolf went over to the door and opened it easily thanks to Loki’s slight handle modification. He raised an eyebrow when she disappeared outside. But she returned rather promptly and kicked the door closed with her back foot, making him chuckle.

‘A dog that can let herself out to the toilet.’ He said with a grin.

The wolf growled at him as she sat down nearby to watch. He looked over and laughed.

‘Sorry, don’t like being called a dog?’

The wolf growled again in confirmation.

‘Noted.’ He nodded.

He filled a plate of food for the wolf and put it on the floor for her next to the table. Then he sat down with his own. While he was munching on some toast, he looked at the wolf. ‘I’m guessing you don’t have a pack?’

The wolf licked the plate clean before sitting down and looking at Loki. She wiped her mouth with her paw and then just stared at him.

‘I don’t have a family. Not really, anyway. I was adopted when I was a kid, told a lie my entire life and brought up to fear what I was. I was told that the Jotuns were monsters.’ Loki sighed and looked at his hand, turning it blue momentarily. He noticed the wolf look at his hand then back to his face.

‘I don’t know what you are, truly, because you’re no ordinary wolf. You’re intelligent, more intelligent than the average one, I mean. If you do have a loving pack out there, you’re lucky.’ Loki wasn’t sure why he was opening up to the wolf like he was, there was just something about her.

Having her company was nice. Even just having her around was oddly calming. She was certainly making his usual boring day to day life more interesting... 

Which is why he was rather disappointed when she disappeared mid-day and didn’t come back.

That night, she still didn’t return.

Loki was hopeful she might make an appearance the next day, but there was no sign of her at all.

[when-they-write-stuff]

42 + 43 with a worried Derek?

“No more stupid stunts, please?” & “You scared the shit out of me!”

- -

First of all, Stiles would like to say he didn’t agree with Derek’s definition of ‘stupid stunts’. And second of all, falling out of trees really hurt.

See, Stiles hadn’t planned on being in a tree that Saturday night. He hadn’t woken up that morning and decided “Hey, you know what’s a good idea? Climbing up a tree and then proceeding to fall out and break two bones. That sounds like a wild time.”

That thought never crossed his mind. You know, like a normal person.

But then Derek proceeded to swing through his window and notify him that the latest Beacon Hill’s threat was a flock of gargoyles. And Stiles was the bait.

He loved his life.

That all was how he ended up being in a tree. Stiles wasn’t sure why he thought it was a good idea to climb up there when gargoyles could fly, but it was the first thought that had crossed his mind when he was running through the preserve for his life. So yeah, there was that.

Gargoyles had wings. Stiles decided to remember that next time Derek made him the bait. 

He would like to say that in his defense, Stiles had been watching Tarzan earlier. And when he went out into the preserve that night, he might’ve been thinking about how cool it would be to be able to swing from tree to tree. Not like that influenced his later decision or anything.

Okay, it might have.

“You’re the bait,” he muttered, swinging his baseball bat back and forth as he walked. “You’re always the bait, Stiles. But don’t worry, we’ll all still consider you the token human and call you fragile when things come down to it! But how do you feel about risking your life every other weekend anyway? It’ll be fun!”

Stiles didn’t think this was fun at all. 

Up until today, he hadn’t even known gargoyles were a thing. They most certainly weren’t supposed to be, thank you very much. Gargoyles were supposed to be stone figures that sat on top of creepy old buildings and didn’t move. But instead, they were giant creatures with leather wings and sharp claws that screeched like dying cats when they attempted to kill someone.

Stiles learned that first hand.

When they were attempting to kill him, that was.

“Derek!” he shouted, really wishing he had laid off the curly fries that summer as he ran through the seemingly empty forest. “Derek, you furry asshole, now would be a good time to come to this token human’s aid!”

Stiles didn’t know where the hell the wolves were but if he died out here tonight because they were being lazy, he was so going to come back and haunt them all.

The moment he managed to duck out of the gargoyles’ sight, the first thing Stiles saw was a nice, tall tree. His dad had always told him if he was running from predators, the best thing to do was climb the nearest tree, so Stiles took off toward it.

He didn’t really stop to think things through.

It was only when he was about fifteen feet off the ground that Stiles remembered gargoyles had wings, he was really bad a climbing, and currently, he was all alone.

Still though, the moment he saw beady yellow eyes and sharp fangs, Stiles did the first thing that came to mind. He jumped toward the next closest tree.

It was then that Stiles remembered he wasn’t Tarzan either.

When Stiles hit the ground, he heard something crack. He cried out and curled his fingers into the dirt, feeling the pain like a punch to the gut. Faintly, Stiles heard the sound of the gargoyles and their screeches growing louder and mentally braced himself for the claws about to tear through his back.

Except then finally, Stiles heard the sound of sharp howls cutting through the night. He let out a sigh of relief and went limp, trying to think of something other than the pain currently curling through his gut.

Derek reached him first.

Stiles could hear the sounds of the other wolves fighting, but then there was a presence by his side and he didn’t need to look over to know who it was. Derek touched his arm and then snarled, pulling back.

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah, Sourwolf, that usually happens to humans when they remember they can’t fly.”

“Is it bad?”

Stiles shifted and then hissed. “I think I broke something.

“A bone.”

“No,” Stiles said. “My face. Yes, a bone!”

Derek muttered something that Stiles didn’t catch and then swept an arm underneath his legs. Before Stiles could react, he was being picked up off the ground and pain crashed over him once more. This time, he wasn’t able to hold back a shout.

“Derek, you asshole, put me down!”

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“No, I’m continuing to lay on the ground. Derek, that hurts! Put me down!”

Of course, Derek ignored him. Stiles would struggle if he could but he’d really rather not hurt anymore, so he just stayed limp in his arms. Derek growled something to the rest of his pack and then turned away but at that point, Stiles was sweeping in and out of consciousness.

His everything hurt.

“Stay with me, Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles huffed a laugh.

“I’m not dying, asshole.”

“No, you’re not.”

“But maybe I could be. Cause dude, I hurt. Like a lot. Can I just be dying instead?”

Derek only growled in answer. Stiles laughed and then gasped, everything turning black for a long, painful second. When he came snapping back to reality, Derek was setting him in the Camaro and Stiles let loose a loud whine, feeling like his bones were grinding together.

“Stop it,” Derek said. He looked visibly bothered by Stiles’s sounds of pain. Stiles only made louder noises and went boneless in the seat.

Derek shot him a glare as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Why the hell did you climb a tree?” 

“It was the first idea that came to me,” Stiles groaned. Derek looked even more irritated.

“To escape from monsters with wings.”

“I never said it was a good idea.”

“Dammit, Stiles,” Derek said, stepping on the gas. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Is that a compliment, Sourwolf?”

“No more stupid stunts.

“Then maybe you should stop making this token human bait,” Stiles rasped. He kept one arm wrapped around his side although he was pretty sure that was doing nothing to help with the pain. Derek glanced sideways for a moment and then sighed, reaching over and placing a hand on Stiles’s knee.

Almost instantly, the pain started to lessen.

“You know,” Stiles said. “Maybe we could just skip the hospital altogether and go to the loft instead? I trust your, uh, splinting skills, dude.”

“That’s not how you fix a broken rib.”

“Oh, is that what you think this is?”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek growled. If Stiles looked over, the man’s face was startling pale and his fingers around the steering wheel seemed to tremble slightly. Stiles grinned despite himself.

“Dude, are you worried about me?”

“No.”

“I’m not dying,” Stiles said. “Seriously.”

“You could have been.”

“From falling out of a tree?”

“If you hit at the right angle,” Derek said, eyes flashing. “Yes.”

Stiles felt his smile slip away. He glanced back toward the road and the rest of the drive to the hospital was a silent one. Stiles already knew what was awaiting him; a lecture from Melissa, a call to his dad, and the ultimate (possibly life-threatening) grounding.

Probably.

Derek came around the side of the Camaro and Stiles sighed as the man picked him up again. With one of Derek’s hands on his arm, some of the pain was leeched away, and he didn’t feel like he could black out this time. He still winced every time Derek jostled him too much though.

The man seemed to notice that.

“Sorry,” Derek said. Stiles smirked up at him.

“I forgot I wasn’t Tarzan.”

“What.”

“How cool would that have been?” Stiles said, mostly to himself this time instead of Derek. “If I could have jumped from tree to tree? Dude, I should totally be Tarzan. Just drop me off on a deserted island with a bunch of gorillas for a year or two.”

“I think you’re in shock, Stiles.”

“Naw, dude,” Stiles said. “I’m just saying. I wouldn’t need a baseball bat if I was Tarzan.”

The man looked down at him, shaking his head. Stiles grinned.

The moments between the waiting room, Melissa coming into view, the foretold lecture, and waking up in a hospital bed were all a blur. Stiles felt woozy when he came back-to and the first thing he noticed was that his dad wasn’t around yet. The second was that Derek’s head was on his lap and he was pretty sure the man was asleep.

Stiles froze and stared at him. Then, as if he was trying not to wake a sleeping bear, he shifted a little. But of course, that was just enough.

Derek startled and his eyes snapped open. The man went rigid and then relaxed, blinking tiredly for a moment. A shiver ran down Stiles’s spine as he was fixed with a red-eyed gaze.

“You don’t speak of this to anyone, Stiles.”

“Oo-kay, Softiewolf.”

Derek blinked at him again and then pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. It looked kind of adorable. Like a mouse had made a home in the middle of it.

Derek raised a brow. Stiles stared back until he realized all of that had slipped from his lips. In a panic, he clapped his hands over his mouth. But Derek only looked a little amused.

 “You’re drugged.”

“I am not.”

“Stiles, you just told me that my, and I quote, ‘bunny teeth would appropriately suit a mouse living in my hair. Because both of those things are adorable and they just make sense.’”

Stiles stared at him. He didn’t remember saying that.

“Just because you don’t remember saying it doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

“Dude, stop reading my mind!”

“I’m not reading your mind,” Derek huffed. “You just happen to be thinking out loud.”

Stiles glared at him, deciding he no longer wanted Derek to be his caretaker. Derek sucked. He wanted his dad even if it did come with an eternal grounding.

“Your father is still on a shift,” Derek said, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. “He should be here in a few hours.”

“Oh my god!”

“Not god,” Derek said. “Just a werewolf.”

“Stop it,” Stiles said miserably. “You’re not allowed to have jokes. Mind reading grumpy werewolves aren’t allowed to have jokes.”

Derek’s face softened. He reached out and touched the back of Stiles’s hand, black lines starting to creep up his arm. Stiles sighed despite himself, practically melting into the touch. Derek shook his head.

“No more stupid stunts, Stiles. Please.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You broke two ribs.”

“I was trying not to get killed,” Stiles mumbled. Derek’s face tightened a little and he almost looked… guilty?

“No more stupid stunts,” the man said. “And no more bait.”

“No more bait?”

“We’ll use one of the betas. Or Jackson.”

“They won’t like that,” Stiles said. Derek only chuckled and squeezed his hand a little tighter. The man actually looked sincere. Stiles didn’t know what to do with that.

“I’m the Alpha.”

“Wow, dude.”

“They’ll do what I say.”

“Sure.”

Derek rolled his eyes and removed his hand again. There were no more black lines creeping up his arm, though, and Stiles didn’t really hurt anymore. He just felt tired now. Tired and a little brain heavy.

Maybe he was drugged.

“You are,” Derek said. Stiles grumbled something dark and the man only chuckled, pulling the blankets up to Stiles’s neck. He was a little woozy but he could’ve sworn gentle fingers traced down the side of his cheek before pulling away. But maybe it was the drugs.

“It wasn’t,” Derek said softly. Stiles tried to look at him but his eyes were heavy now too. Derek leaned back as Stiles let them flutter closed.

He might do a stupid stunt once and a while, he decided, if it got him this kind of special treatment. But then the last thing he noticed before going unconscious was Derek growling. Then the man leaning closer, breaths warm on his face.

“Don’t you dare.”

Stiles laughed himself back to sleep.

- -

Okay, this one was super fun. I feel like “No more stupid stunts” is something Derek says to Stiles 24/7 so it fits them perfectly! Thank you for the prompt, nonnie <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer