#everybody got that? someone hold me (accountable)

[starlitcrows]

smolbin is real...

[chrollohearttags]

This is for when you come back. I believe you've shared this guy before, but to me this is this is so musician!Eren x influence!YN. They would do a whole Scream homage to start off one of Eren's new music videos; it would be so hot that they make their own "scary movie" with one of the handheld cameras once the crew starts packing up 🫠

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7ForeG/

omg babes I definitely saw this and was saving the best for last (just in time to start off spooky szn too!) thank you for this!! 🥹🫶🏾 (side note: I’m so sick of Jordan’s ass! He gets finer and finer every time I see him LMAO 😭)

content warnings: voyeurism, knife play, blood mentions, rough sex, breath play, mask kink go brr 🫠🫠, choking, roleplay, recording, squirting, slapping

we gon call this our lil bonus upload for day one! 🤞🏾or rather the appetizer for day one.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

“Hnghh!—oh my God..”

muffled whimpers seeped from between your lips as a hand lie dormant across it, attempting to cover up your cries. Faint tears streamed down your face as the bright illumination of a camera lens beamed down at your face. It was such a beautiful sight, one too sexy not to capture. Eyes narrowed in a fucked out haze, plump breasts jiggling about from the confines of the latex bustier that had now been torn from your skin and your entire body being jolted around and impaled on that thick cock, thrashing around inside of you..makeup and hair all disheveled. The cause?

“C’mon..smile for the camera, princess. Show me how much you love getting fucked like a little slut.”

the deep voice hissed at you through gritted teeth, in a hushed tone and behind the concealment of a mask. And not just any kind..the infamous Ghostface one worn in the hit movie franchise, Scream. Behind it however, was a very familiar face. One smiling from ear to ear as he bared his weight down and pinned you to the mattress left on set of the music video that had just wrapped up filming. A chiseled six pack, diamond crucifix and perfect physique hovering over you..such a befitting and rather fun end to a day of hard work. It wasn’t often that you got to join your rapper husband when he comes to record music videos but he personally asked that you not only come along but be his co star. Starring as the damsel getting caught by the so called reaper who should by all accounts, be frightened but instead…winds up getting intimate with the masked assailant! Covered in blood and tousling around. When you saw your man in that get up, chest and abs all out with his tattoos slicked in oil and black jeans on, you lost all composure and sense of professionalism. So just as the camera crew was gathering their equipment, he snatched you up, took you back to the bedroom used to shoot the infamous scene, closed the door and continued his work.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby..they might hear us. You’d probably like that, huh? Let everybody watch you get this pussy pounded..right here..is that what you want?”

the words sounding off in your ear, but your mind became so blank, you could barely even concentrate. So for good measure, he’d pat your cheek twice and resume clutching your throat. Whilst letting his thumb rest between your lips for comfort. He’d carefully hold that camera in place, being sure to capture every moment. Honestly, he was committing to the bit quite well. Taunting you, teasing at your clothes with the kitchen knife he was brandishing and eventually popping the strings of your thong and cutting off that corset..even laughing at you as he forced you into another orgasm. Slapping you around a little and all. Especially when he held his hand over your mouth, causing you to grasp at his arm for breath… “yeah, she likes that, huh? You’re squirting, baby..” “..yes! It feels so fucking good.” it was so insanely hot yet so scary! It was that rush, combined with the very likely possibility of someone hearing or catching you guys in the act that had you so fucking turned on! Jolting around whilst getting drilled into the mattress, (y/n) pawed at those abs but it was of no use. So you settled on folding those legs back and occasionally wrapping those arms around his back, digging your nails into it. “I’m bout to come, daddy! Fuck..” “..I know, I know…I can feel how tight that shit is. Get your nut, baby. It’s alright.” Peering down at you with that camera, ready to capture that pretty little O face. Heaving and crying, you’d release a loud shriek as his thumb circulated your clit. You didn’t last another five seconds after that and before he could even pull out, you were drenching him in another puddle of fluids. A mix of your whimpers and his chuckles filled the room as you convulsed.

“Too much, huh?”

teasing whilst tapping that cock against your folds, as a means to drum out more..without so much as a word uttered, you’d push him back and try to feign off the sensation. Needless to say, it was a dangerous game coming to work with your boo! Running a thumb underneath the cloth, he’d finally hoist that mask and underneath was that strikingly handsome face. Tugging him down with your palms pressed to his cheeks, you’d feed him the sweetest kisses you could muster. Because regardless, he always knew how to keep the thrill and excitement alive.

“What do you say we get a couple more angles, baby? I think we need to redo that last shot.” “I think we need to get out of these people’s studio before we get hit with an indecent exposure charge.”

causing an eruption of laughter between the two of you..that was until knocking and faint footsteps could be heard out of the door, prompting you both to turn your heads with the quickness. You’d agree and hop up, scrambling to gather your clothes.

“But that bring that mask with you. I think we need to get more footage.”

[bygiornogiovanna]

Bro, hear me out,

Bucci squad after unintentionally or intentionally saying something to piss off the reader and reacting to them saying "SORRY I CANT HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD"

I KNOW THAT QUOTE IS FROM SOMEHWERE ELSE BUT PLEASE BARE WITH ME HERE ID LOVE TO SEE THIS WRITTEN IN ONE SHOT FORMAT OR WHATEVER FORMAT YOU CAM DO FOR THIS GAMG MADE UP OF TEENAGERS AND FED UP ADULTS

YOU HAVE MY REGRETS

-ANON

THIS IS SO FUNNY I'M LITERALLY DYING

I apologize profoundly for how long this took. I've been busy and i kind of forgot about this account

ok here's how i think they'll react

Bucciarati

You liked stylish things, that's one thing everybody knew. And you would go feral if somebody insulted that;

Therefore, Bucciarati knew exactly how to get on your nerves whenever you got on his;

"At least I have a sense of style. For someone who's obsessed with that topic, dress better" he said rolling his eyes and the moment you processed what he said, the glare in your eyes said everything;

After a few seconds, you came up with the best reply that would surely make him cry;

"SORRY I CANT HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD" you yelled, acting like you couldn't hear a thing;

The other guys were also present at your...argument? and they immediately burst into laughter. Even Abbacchio was smiling;

Meanwhile, Bruno was flabbergasted. He never heard you say such things and he was so shocked that he started laughing. He couldn't bring himself to be offended;

"Excuse you?" he said, raising a brow. "You heard me, manwhore! I fucked your dad!" you continued and the rest of the room started laughing again. What was this, a comedy show?

"Is it fine if I call him to ask him?" Bruno smirked, taking his phone out.

Abbacchio

You and Abbacchio didn't argue often due to him not responding to your yelling, making you calm down and talk normally;

However...This time he was not in the mood to hear you complaining about him not doing the dishes, especially since he was talking with the guys;

"Stop ignoring me, shithead!" you yelled. "If you talked less or started saying things that could actually captivate my attention, I would." he said calmly and you felt your ears burn with rage;

"OH, I'M SORRY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD" you screamed after a few seconds, and the whole room went silent;

Abbacchio's brows furrowed and everybody laughed at your reply, except Giorno, who stopped when Leone glared at him. "What are you laughing at?"

"Hey, shut the fuck up, you're agruing with me, not with Giorno!" you said, bringing his attention back to you;

"You are arguing with yourself, so shut up. I'll deal with you later."

Narancia

You and Narancia were in a relationship and also in a never-ending competition. Everything between you two was a competition. From who got the groceries first to who made the best cookies;

So, naturally, when you heard Narancia discussing about how he was better than you behind your back, you were fuming;

"You motherfucker, learn to wash your boxers then come at me!" you yelled while slamming the door open;

"Huh?" Narancia was taken aback by your yelling, as were the others. "You heard me fucker!"

"At least i wear lingerie so you can wash something." he replied almost instantly and you were beyond shock. The AUDACITY he had. Without thinking about what you were about to say, you yelled:

"OH, I'M SORRY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD"

The guys burst out in laughter and Narancia was literally flabbergasted. He looked so shocked and, in a few moments, he jumped at your neck;

By the terrifying look in his eyes, while he was holding your jaw locked with his hand, you realized that you touched a soft spot;

"How dare you talk about that scumbag as if he could ever catch your eye."

Fugo

It was pretty easy to piss off Fugo, so you two argued every day. You loved annoying people, you found it so funny when they got all worked up over nothing, so you naturally annoyed him for fun. Simply because you found it entertaining;

One day, while the boys were over discussing who knows what, you innocently went to Fugo and asked him the most stupid and useless math question ever: How many angles does a triangle have?

The boys gave you a look and, before you could say something, Fugo snapped. "Are you kidding me? Are you this stupid? How dumb can you be? How is it possible for you to ask me that?" he yelled and you frowned.

"I'm genuinely curious! Why are you being so aggressive?!" you said, trying to be offened. What made your question even more stupid was that your major was mathematics;

"How did you even finish financial analysis?" oh no. He did not just say that! You were now offened and, without thinking, you screamed at him:

"OH, I'M SORRY, MY DUMB EARS CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD"

At that, everyone but Fugo laughed out loud, while you stared at him angrily. The boy had no reaction, except:

"Get out of here before I rip your neck off, we'll talk about that later."

Giorno

Unlike Fugo or Narancia, Giorno wasn't easy to annoy and he never saw you as a competition. You only argued once in your entire relationship;

You were in his lap while you and the boys were at a terrace, hanging out as usual;

Somehow, the discussion shifted to how the boys wanted their significant other to be and, after Fugo said he'd like his to be quiet, Giorno made a comment about how you were never quiet;

It wasn't a remark, he loved your loud side, but he honestly wished you weren't that loud, especially in public;

So, after the conversation moved on, he called your name a few times and you ignored him. "Cara, why aren't you talking to me?";

"OH, I'M SORRY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD" you suddenly said a little louder and your table went quiet;

After a second, all of them, except Giorno, started laughing while the other people gave you looks;

"That was extremely unnecessary, tesoro."

Mista

You two were the loudest, most annoying couple ever. You two were always bickering, always saying dumb jokes and always, but always laughing louder than you should;

It was a funny thing. If people saw you two arguing, throwing insults at each other, they would think you two were the biggest enemies;

You were over at his house, waiting for the others to come for dinner. You were placing the plates down, when Mista suddenly made fun of you:

"You can't even place some plates without looking stupid." he said, giggling softly at the annoyed glare you gave him. "No answer, hun? Cat got your tounge?" he kept going after you returned to placing the cutlery down on the table;

You kept ignoring him, but he continued to make fun of you and, after a few minutes, you were fuming, so you yelled at him:

"OH, I'M SORRY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD!" Mista fell quiet and stared at you;

"Is that so?" You weren't sure what was going to happen next, because in his eyes he had a mix of surprise, anger and...desire?

"I was not expecting to hear this when I entered, but hello to you too." Bruno said while he was standing in the door frame;

Mista went closer to your ear before all of the boys entered and whispered:

"Wait until they are over, you might have something to prove after."

[mediumgayitalian]

previous chapter

———

“Take the exit here.”

“How come?” Nico asks, dutifully putting on his blinker and merging into the right lane. “We’re not even at half tank.”

Will clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, not for gas.”

A pause.

“Oh, Solace, you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nico throws his hands up, ignoring Will’s screech of both hands on the wheel, I value my life! “There is no possible way you have to piss already. You had half a slushie!”

“...Well.”

“William Andrew Solace, I swear to God.”

“I got distracted!” Will cries, eyes big and round as he pouts. “The Abstract Iron Centaur is a monument, okay, I forgot what the point of the rest stop was for.”

Nico groans. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to go to medical school. You’re going to forget a scalpel in someone’s lungs, or something.”

Immediately, he knows this is the wrong thing to say. The sheepish grin vanishes off Will’s face, replaced with something despairing, before it’s hastily shoved back on.

The winding road finally gives way to the advertised rest stop, partially obscured by a Welcome to Georgia sign with a modernist-style image of a peach that annoys him for no reason. We’re glad Georgia’s on your mind. (False. Georgia is never on his mind, except for how Will can’t say Georgia without slipping into his accent and Nico has to take that golden opportunity to mock him. And then die.)

“Right,” Will says finally. He forces a laugh. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then gets out of the car without so much as a word.

Nico watches him go. 

“Well,” he mutters to himself. “Shit.”

He waits in the car as long as he physically can, which is anything between thirty seconds and four business days. A glance at his watch informs him it’s closer to two minutes. 

He kicks a stone across the parking lot, debating the implications of searching for his friend. It hasn’t really been that long, so he’s not sure it’s socially appropriate, and then he wonders when the hell he started caring about being socially appropriate. They are friends, after all, because in a group icebreaker question about siblings in seventh grade, Nico had growled none, on the account that she was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten and Will had laughed, brightly and morbidly, and said hey, my brothers were murdered, too! Twinsies! and killed the vibe rather brilliantly for literally everybody else in the room. 

He gives into his impulse eventually, striding onto the surprisingly soft grass and looking, halfheartedly, around the spacious grounds (he’d decided searching the bathroom would be a touch too far). His mission gets sidetracked, however, because the heat is less oppressive under the shade of tall, weeping willows, and there’s a small breeze, and he is struggling to shove his various musings into the Repression Box where they belong. 

Will, starts one of said musings, has been acting weird as shit long before he showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

It had started around January? If he had to guess. But Will is always kind of weird in the winter, so he hadn’t thought much of it, just offered to break into his house more often so he didn’t feel too suffocated. The usual. But the strangeness had persisted through the spring – the sudden drops in mood, the hair-triggers to clam him up. Both of which are usually a Nico thing. Will, more often, just shoves all his negative emotions down to the bottom of his soul until he gets one half-mark wrong on a test and sobs himself sick about being useless while Nico stands guard outside the bathroom door, agonised, unsure how to help. And then the two of them never talk about it again. 

Over the last few months, things have been a little less balanced. 

“Hey.”

Nico jumps. Will stands slightly, shoulders still hunched slightly, but definitely less cagey than earlier. He holds out a cup of coffee Nico recognises as from a vending machine.

“Hi,” Nico says softly, smiling tentatively. He takes the coffee. It’s black, and too hot, just how he likes it.

“You are going to stain your teeth,” Will observes, as he always does.

“Bite me,” Nico responds, following the script.

A genuine smile pulls at his face.

“You ready to get back on the road?”

“Yep.”

They fall into step in their hike back to the Jeep – Nico hiked farther than he meant to. Will’s flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt of the trail is a familiar sound, and it eases some of his own tension, putting a bit more prep in his step. When he glances quickly over, Will is breathing normally, shoulders slack, much calmer expression on his face.

“You should let me drive,” he says as they approach. “You’ve been behind the wheel since practically dawn; maybe you should take a nap or something.”

Nico shakes his head, waving a dismissive arm. Frowning slightly, Will acquiesces, climbing back into the passenger side.

“I’ve had two coffees and half a slushie,” he explains, resting his hand on the back of Will’s seat. He cranes his neck behind him, careful of the family walking an unleashed dog as he pulls out. “I’m good forever.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you,” Will points out.

Nico pauses. 

“...True.”

He hadn’t realise Will had noticed, actually. Although he supposes it’s not too surprising – Will has known him a long time, Will is observant, and Will generally enjoys lecturing people about anything he can get away with, up to and including their general health and safety. Nico, in all his bad choices, is a favourite target of his. He can probably recite his solo midnight speed driving from memory.

“It’s just –” Will stops, waiting until Nico’s safely merged back on the highway before continuing. “It’s three and a half hours ‘till we get to Atlanta, Neeks, and it’s already three-thirty. We’ll have to stop again for food, probably, at one point, and we’ll have to stop for food, soon, and who knows what the traffic will be like –”

Carefully passing the person going sixty in front of him, finally breaking into open road, Nico takes half an eye off the road and digs through the centre console.

“– I mean, if it’s bumper to bumper, then what? It’ll be rush hour soon, shit, I shoulda planned for that, shit, do we have a jerrycan? We should have a jerrycan, remind me to get a jerrycan for the trunk –”

Finally catching sight of the CD he’s looking for (and barely managing to swerve and avoid a massive pothole that would have for sure cut their trip short, but he managed, so take that, Reckless Driving Lecture Will that lives in his brain, who’s God now), he hands it to Will. Still actively stressing about literally nothing, he opens it, polishing the disc on habit and sliding it into the slot without so much as pausing. 

Nico smirks. 

Yeah, maybe he knows his friend, too.

“– I mean, just blankets and a first aid kit is not enough. Really, we should have some provisions in there. Oh, and rope, ‘cause what if we get stranded in the mountains –”

The radio clicks as it reads the disc, then, suddenly and without warning, the stereo rumbles with heavy bass and pounding beat.

Will cuts himself off. “Hey, is this –”

Nico smirks wider. He chances another look away from the road, just in time to watch a magnificent smile break across Will’s face, wide and a little crooked, showing all his molars – a real one, the one he gets when he’s caught off-guard, the one that makes his hands fluttery.

“You’re playing In The Zone!” he exclaims, laughing delightedly. “Without complaining!”

Bingo, Nico thinks. 

“Technically, I didn’t play shit.” He gestures at the empty CD case in Will’s hand. “You’re just like a hermit crab. I hand you things, you hold them.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no bite to the command, smile still stretching wide. If Nico looks, he can see the tiny snag of his barely crooked front tooth, but he doesn’t look, because he doesn’t care about that, obviously. He has his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, fully focused.

Obviously. 

They do get into disgusting traffic. Will is distressed about it, up until someone cuts them off so closely they both nearly actually and genuinely die, and he is immediately lit up in a rage so incandescent Nico wonders if he will ever be able to look away from straining biceps and a clenched jaw ever again. More distantly, he wonders if and I hope you get three consecutive aneurysms and your family leaves you to fucking rot in a hospital bed, you leprous shitdick will be on loop in his head for the rest of time. He kind of wants to put it on a shirt. Will’s linguistic talents should be studied. 

“Stop thinking about it,” Will demands, socking him (hard! What the shit!) in the shoulder. His face resembles, quite exactly, the shade of the setting sun. “Purge it from your memory.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nico responds, smirking.

“I wasn’t –” A pause. Nico bites back a snort. “Cutting people off is just so rude.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean! I mean.”

“Indeed.”

“If it was – an ambulance, or something, I would understand, but he cut us off just to get immediately stuck in the same traffic! I don’t understand the point!”

“Truly the behaviour of a leprous shitdick,” Nico agrees. His grin starts to genuinely hurt his face, but he ignores it in favour of snickering.

Will sinks into his seat, pulling his hoodie over his eyes. His ears, as usual, stick out a little, and they’re red, too. Nico nobly resists the urge to flick them. 

“I hate you.”

“I think you’re quite attached to me, actually. After all, I’m not a –”

“If I hear the word leprous come from your mouth one more fucking time, di Angelo, I’ll give you leprosy. For real. I’ll find it.”

Will probably could find a vial of pure leprosy somewhere, actually, so Nico shuts up. (He’s seen Will’s weird vial collection. Most of it is just, like, various bacteria, he’s pretty sure, but Will is kind of morbid and Nico knows his sense of humour is garbage because Nico’s sense of humour is garbage, and there is a reason they’re friends, and if Nico found a vial of leprosy somewhere he would keep it, too. Can leprosy be vialed? Who knows. Will, probably.)

Once he’s sure Nico is not going to tease him anymore about his temper tantrum, or at least for the moment, he turns back to his book. Every so often, he looks up, observes the three miles per hour they’re crawling, and sighs, loudly and lengthy to himself, muttering something about railway systems and zoning laws and government incompetence. Nico doesn’t ask. He was free from the jail that was history and geography lessons last month. He is determined to learn absolutely nothing for the next six months, at least. 

“I’m paying for the motel or hotel or inn et cetera,” Will says, randomly. 

“No,” Nico replies, easily. 

Will reaches out, calmly, and pinches him on the thigh. Nico does not yelp indignantly because he is a Man, and can handle Will’s weirdly pointy fingers.

“You paid for gas.”

“Yep.”

“And you have car payments.”

“Mhm.”

“And you bought Dunkin’s.”

“True.”

“Nico,” Will says exasperatedly, “this whole damn trip was my idea. Let me pay for shit.”

“I enjoy wasting my father’s money,” Nico counters, and Will pauses, considering. “Come on, commie. I know the idea of spending a banker’s money on stupid shit pleases you.”

He knows he’s starting to win, because Will sighs in a very particular way that Nico has identified as why am I letting this dumbass get away with this again, says, “Spending money is capitalist, Nico,” and turns, begrudgingly, back to his book.

Poorly hidden behind the pages, he’s smiling.

Nico tallies his victory.

The traffic finally eases by around eight o’clock. Victorious, surely, except that they’re still quite a ways from Atlanta. He considers getting off at one of the various exits promising shelter, and in fact decides he is going to, but for some reason, his hand never drifts to his blinker. Never turns the wheel slightly to merge, never eases off the gas. He keeps going, an going, and going, music playing softly, stars beginning to shine through the darkening sky.

Beside him, Will lets out tiny puffs as he exhales, even and sluggish.

“You are a grandmother,” he whispers fondly, shaking his head. In the quiet of the road, interrupted only by the whipping whipping winds – he should have pulled the roof back up when they were stuck, shit – and odd flash of headlights of a passing car, he lets himself soften, sighing back against his seat and easing up slightly on the gas.

Will glows, faintly, in the moonlight.

It’s funny, ‘cause he’s a sun child. Nico has teased him about it for years, in fact; his hair, his bright blue eyes, his stubborn clinging to his aesthetic of wannabe surfer boy. The gold ring he wears on his thumb, the sun pendant that rests on his heart. Swathed in yellows and blues and golds, all the time, with a sprinkling of bright green and neon orange just to remind everyone that yes, he is red green colourblind, and no, that will not stop him from making fashion choices. 

But the silver suits him. It softens him, instead of washing him out, reminding Nico that the sun shines white. The low light casts gentle shadows on his face, too, drawing attention to his strong brow and straight nose. 

Forcing his eyes back on the road, where they should have been the whole time, Jesus, he notices the giant green Downtown Atlanta sign, and follows its arrows. The first exit he sees, he turns, getting lost three times before he finds the hotel that was advertised.

Pulling into the largely empty parking lot, he shuts off the car, then turns to Will, screwing up his face. He has to wake him up, at some point. Obviously. Unfortunately he cannot simply melt into the shadows and reappear in a hotel room. As awesome as that would be, with his luck, he’d pop into an occupied one, and that’d be a whole host of problems. 

Deciding he’ll actually get them a room first, he heads inside, speaking quietly with the desk host.

“Single or double?” they ask pleasantly, voice similarly lowered for the hour.

“Uh,” Nico says, “double?”

The host pauses, eyebrows flicking up at his hesitation. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nico flushes. He adds, belatedly, “Please.”

Eyebrow raised in amusement, the host reaches into a drawer and pulls out two sleek key cards, tucking them into a little envelope thing and handing them over. “Room 409,” they say, nodding towards the elevator. 

“Thanks,” Nico responds, and walks out the door. He realises, as he exits, how much of a general failure he is at communicating with people who are not Will, and considers climbing through the window of his sixth floor room out of sheer embarrassment. The realization that he does not have the skill to drag Will up there with him is the only thing that stops him.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, once he’s gathered their bags and some of the red has faded from his face, “we’re here.”

Will hums a little, voice gravelly. Nico’s lip quirk up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“‘M sleepin’ jus’ fine.”

His accent is so, so heavy with sleep, and it’s just – God, he wishes Wil hadn’t trained himself out of it. In Nico’s professional opinion, Will should talk like that all the time.

Authenticity, and all that.

“C’mon, Will.”

After another minute of coaxing – which Nico indulges purely because he knows for a fact Solace will have no memory of it in the morning, in any other circumstance he’d poke him awake – Will uncurls enough to stagger to his feet, stumbling as he gets out of the vehicle. For his own safety, Nico wraps an arm around his narrow hips, guiding him up to the room. 

“Mnhgh,” he mumbles, the second the heavy door closes behind them. He walks two steps to the nearest bed, face plants in the middle of it, and starts snoring, feet hanging off the end, one flip-flip still stubbornly clinging to his foot.

“Dork,” Nico murmurs. He gets ready like a normal person, tugging on a sleep shirt – might be an old one of Will’s, actually, because Nico certainly never bought a Shania Twain concert t-shirt – and wrapping up in the wonderfully plush blankets. “Goodnight, Will.”

He gets a snore in response. He burrows deeper into the covers, smiling, drifting off to the sound of his best friend’s rhythmic breathing.

———

next chapter

[the-owl-house-takes]

I absolutely hate the argument that Luz can be excused for her actions and people have no right to dislike her just because she’s neurodivergent. I struggled immensely in school both academically and socially in large to my own “neurodivergence”-can I just say I hate that word-but I was never so stupid as to think about bringing live animals and fireworks inside my school. The fact that Luz, the 14-year-old daughter of a veterinarian, saw a bunch of living, breathing animals and thought-‘yeah, I’m gonna use those as props! My book report is gonna be so cool! I surely can’t just use rubber snakes!’ Which probably why they were so damn aggressive! Because snakes only really bite and attack when they’re threatened, or stressed, or pissed off! Which really does not paint Luz as being a very caring or thoughtful person!

“But that’s the point! She needs to get better and she does!”-No she absolutely fucking does not. Instead of realizing that she can’t just run away and live in fantasy-land, the show again and again reaffirms that Luz can do no wrong, everybody else never should’ve felt angry about her reckless idiocy-because that’s what it is, idiocy-she gets to live out her little fantasy world and do whatever she wants. The way the show acts like the principal giving the summer camp pamphlet was some horrible evil thing, how could anyone do that? B I T CH LUZ IS FUCKING LUCKY that she weren’t expelled or arrested! She brought EXPLOSIVES WITH THE INTENT OF SETTING THEM OFF INSIDE A SCHOOL BUILDING. In an area of mass shoring fears and schools prohibiting anything can looks like or emulates(even if it is just a foam sword or something), Luz really should’ve just taken two seconds to think to at least leave the fireworks. Course at 14 I would think that a person who have the common sense for that to never be a thought.

And no, “neurodivergence” is not an excuse. It pains me when characters in media doing stupid shit and senseless(especially when it gets on the audience’s nerves) gets pinned on having autism or ADHD like it makes it okay, and that the character can’t be blamed or held accountable for it. Why do people hold those with these conditions to such low standards? When this happens, it feels like people are saying, “Yeah, this could’ve easily caused grievous bodily harm or death but they’ve got anxiety and autism, so we can’t be mad, they couldn’t possibly know better because they’re simply not on our level, they’re too stupid to understand!” Hell no. Stop giving excuses! The “I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor” attitude does not work in court!

And maybe if they understood this and actually challenged Luz on being very episodic on learning her lessons and that she did in fact run away to avoid consequences of her actions and reality won’t bend to her interests and she can’t treat everything like it’s a fanfiction instead of beating the dead horse with another dead horse about how Luz ““““helped”””” Belos when all she did was teach him one glyph and got used as bait by someone who she KNOWS tricked her. By that logic Lilith is just as responsible for Belos meeting the Collector as Luz is. Yeah she’s 14 but did it really have to stretch through the entirety of season 3?

Because season 3 is where I officially knew that Luz hadn’t learned a thing. The way the show frames the art teacher giving Luz the side eye like it’s wrong for her to distrust the kid who used the art supplies-that she probably paid out of pocket for-to infest the school with spiders and snakes and then would’ve blown it up if she hadn’t gotten sent to the principal’s office is so out of pocket. She has every right to view Luz with suspicion! People don’t tend to like others who make a mess in their areas with their stuff, shocker. I’ve already said a bit about the summer camp thing, but seriously, a summer camp that teaches teens about mortgages, how to manage a bank account and checkbook, do taxes, etc is literally the best thing Luz could’ve gotten out of that situation. She would’ve learned something many people complain wasn’t taught to them at a young age AND would’ve met people who she could easily befriended. Yeah, it’s boring and Luz probably would’ve checked out of the situation but it’s better than juvie! Also boring stuff is apart of life, it’s part of the way we can live the way we do because everything is easier said than done. Also with Camila, it’s a dumb retcon to have her not understand anime or Luz’s interests in Season 1 and 2 but a secret nerd who just got put down by the man in season 3. Like, Camila had to make a change with Luz, because 14 is not far from 18, and if Luz did do something stupid that ended up being a crime, she could very well be charged as an adult.

Then the whole ‘I just wanna be understood!’ Luz, honey, you’ve been surrounded by people who understand you and don’t get mad when you mess up, even if it’s spectacularly. Your girlfriend literally immediately told you she essentially wanted to spend the rest of her life by your side right after you got revealed as a liar which you promised you wouldn’t do anymore. Your best buds have always been on your side even when you’ve gone behind their backs. Your mom was sending you to that camp bc she had too, even though she originally believed it would expose you to kids with similar interests that could be befriended. And again, her hands were tied, because you were being reckless to the point of danger. But oh wait, it’s all okay now because you’re ‘understood’.

Not finding that happy balance where you can express yourself but not act like an idiot or endanger yourself and others, just some vague ‘understanding’ by an anonymous ‘them’. Do you mean everyone, all the time has to understand you the way Camila, Eda, King, Willow, Gus, Amity and Hunter do? Because that’s not how real life works.

And this isn’t a character hate-though I do hate the way Luz was finished-this is on the writers for not going through with the themes of Fantasy Vs. Reality they had going that could’ve taught Luz that balance and management; which in my personal opinion, would’ve been a better arc for a person with ADHD.

-

[butchsophiewalten]

For the character opinion bingo can yuo do felix..

This fucking guy. I have such a torrid relationship with this character. I've spent a lot of time joking about actively hating him, just because (especially back in 2021, when I first got into The Walten Files) there was such a gross oversaturation of these terrible, bland, thoughtless interpretations of the character. Like so many people saw this really interesting sort of character, and watered him down into something that was more personally palatable and sympathetic for them.

I don't know. Felix is so uninteresting when you don't hold him accountable for anything. I remember a lot of people trying to pin the responsibility for his actions onto the other people in his life, chiefly Jack, because they sympathized with his personal struggles and wanted to woobify him into a character who had never really done anything wrong. Which is such a shame, because that sort of wishy-washy attitude a lot of the fandom had taken towards his actions really soured me on him for a while. And that's not fair, because he's a genuinely fantastic and really interesting character.

I've always loved Felix when it comes to canon depictions of him, y'know? Because it's so free of that kind of Fandom Baggage. Even the good fandom Felix content has to bear the burden of that baggage a lot of the time, and it's worsened for it. But it's like, man, I always forget how fucking fascinating Felix is until we get some Fun New Canon, or someone in the fandom writes or draws something really good, and then it all comes back to me. I'm dying to see more of this character. I really want to get further into his head. I want to see exactly the depths of depravity he's willing to go to save his own skin, and I want to see how he justifies it to himself all the while.

I think a lot about his Formerly Positive relationships with other characters, too, because I think even before things went bad, Felix was always pretty self-centered. Very upbeat and overfriendly to the point where it seems, very obviously, like he's compensating for something. I think he cares a lot about what people think of him, but doesn't necessarily value other peoples' opinions. I think he very genuinely thinks of himself as the smartest person in the room, but is chronically resentful of everybody else in his life for outsmarting him. I really love the idea of everything with him being this sort of paradox. He's so self-deprecating, thinks so little of himself, but would move hell and high water to avoid actually changing and improving anything about his life. He's always so sorry, when he does something wrong and it blows up in his face, but the last thing he'd ever be willing to do is try and do better next time. He treats every tragedy that befalls him as some terrible innevitability he's subjected to, instead of the natural consequences of his own, controllable behavior.

I've already said I think Jack was a bit of an emotional anchor for him, in a way where Jack was this sort of representation of a Successful, Fulfilled man, so Felix really craved validation from him. He would always try, with varying degrees of success, to be on Jack's good side, because having Jack tell him he had done a good job made him feel that much closer to being the Pinnacle of Success he imagined Jack to be. And in this way, Jack was sort of dehumanized by Felix from the very beginning. Jack, in many ways, stopped being Felix's friend, an important person in his life, and started being this idyllic representation of a Good Man that Felix both resented and desperately clung to.

I think about this idea a lot when rewatching Guilty and hearing Felix try and justify his actions to himself through the lens of how Jack would feel. He had to bury Edd & Molly, because Jack would be devastated to see them like that. He could never do that to Jack, his best friend. Jack would be devastated. That's why it has to be a secret, why Jack can never know. He's doing good, he's protecting Jack's feelings. It's such a fundamental disconnect from the reality of the situation, and it feels to me a lot like he's projecting this imagined idea of Jack Walten onto the circumstances to soothe himself, and in the process is denying the real Jack Walten his autonomy in the situation. Jack doesn't get to be told what happened and decide for himself how to feel, Felix gets to decide how Jack would probably feel, and act on that instead.

Imagine for a moment, this same situation, but involving something much less terrible and serious. Maybe Jack has a nice vase in his house that he likes and is important to him. Maybe one day, Felix comes over and, when Jack is in the other room, accidentally knocks it on the floor, and it shatters. Felix, imagining how upset Jack would be to know his favorite vase was broken, sweeps it discreetly into the garbage, and plays stupid when Jack asks about it later. Now, Jack: 1. Never gets the closure of knowing that happened to this thing that he valued so dearly. He never knows if it was stolen or misplaced and is in one piece somewhere out in the world, or if it really was broken, and he should give up trying to recover it. 2. Never gets to decide what should happen in the aftermath of this vase being broken. Maybe he, too, was just going to sweep it into the garbage. But maybe, beforehand, he would take the opportunity to mourn this broken thing before it was out of his life forever. Or maybe he'd try to glue the shards back together. The point is not what he does, but the fact that he was never given the chance to decide what he would do.

I'm worried that last paragraph might come off as pretty patronizing. The point I'm trying to make is just that I don't think Felix really considers Jack as an autonomous person, and that's a really interesting part of their dynamic to me that I think is relatively really underutilized.

Apparently I have a lot to say about Felix Kranken. There's a lot more I could say, but this post is so fucking long already, holy shit.

[hanasnx]

babe it's okay bc dick grayson IS over 6 foot and he has a long cock (i saw it!!!!) 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

wishing i was his sunshine gf who he spoils rotten 💔💔💔💔💔 he always makes jokes about how he's almost a glorified sugar daddy, but you always rush to reassure him you don't care about the money (he knows lmao) and im so sorry for this but, dick grayson has a voyeurism kink, a somnophilia kink and an arm kink bc he likes it when you cling to his arm like a koala to a tree.

he always gets home late after patrol, and seeing his pretty girl in any way is what gets him going, so he just couldn't keep his hands off you. you woke to your underwear being on the ground, and with his fingers in you 🤭

he always a spends a fucking FORTUNE on you whenever you go out, but he never lets you see the price tags. like my dude RUSHES to cover them so that you don't worry your pretty little head off <3 he started doing that after you told him "if you keep spending so much on me, dickie, you're gonna be in debt by the time we've been dating for like- a year!" so he's very cautious now. can't have his pretty girl worrying about that of all things! especially when you're as rich as him, i mean, all of things he buys is barely a dent in his bank account..! as long you let him touch your pretty pussy while you sleep, wash his hair (!), and be his sunshine, he'll be fine !!!!

(im literally so obsessed w him 😓)

baaabbbeeeee stopppppp

(me when someone says “arm kink”)

behold. elite arms for your arm kink viewing pleasure courtesy of a one dick grayson

☥ i think i saw somewhere that he was canonically 5’10 and that’s good and all, still very tall like i won’t deny it. i just feel like he has crazy tall energy.. and i’m a fool for “glow ups” and growth spurt trope. like in the first season he was shorter than everyone, and then second season he’s taller than everybody like 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i can’t get enough of it. he’s got like 6’2 energy to me

☥ thank you for telling me about your headcanon kinks for him bcos i’m still trying to delve deep into his psyche over here. still trying to figure him out, my sexy little human rubik’s cube

“he likes it when you cling to his arm” is soooo real. like where other couples would hold hands, you hold his arm. feeling his muscle under your palm 🫠

☥ when he realizes you’re awake, he whispers over the wet sounds of your pussy, “shh, baby, go back to sleep… just couldn’t help myself. be done soon.” he coos, and you’re so groggy you hum in content, adjusting further into his warmth while he’s toying with you.

☥ “cant have his pretty girl worrying” PLEAKBSLWBEME

“as long as you let him touch your pretty pussy” HFSLDHSLKCJS IM SO 🔥🔥🥵‼️

the fact he’s fucking loaded fr. he doesn’t like to flaunt it really.. a silver chain for himself here, an expensive motorcycle there… he’s very cautious with it. never liked the mansion life, too big too lonely. the apartment guy, the city guy,… unless he’s with you. then he feels like he wants to step it up. especially bcos he wants to fuck you that night after your luxurious outing

[1-800fandomqueen]

And I Will Live Forever

Vladislaus Dragulia x fem!reader

Part One

WC : 16.2K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Mentions of violence, canon-typical, this fic follows the chronological events of Van Helsing (2004). Everybody lives AU! because I am first and foremost fruity, and want to slum it with Dracula and his wives.

If there are any more warnings to be added let me know!

Story Notes :

For reader's bride dress, I imagine the "Melora White Maxi Dress And Collar" but with a very light blue gradient.

All sentences in this formatting are flashbacks from part one.

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

‘He was truly my dearest friend, albeit a little strange, I owed everything to him.’

You wait on the steps of the Monastery, seeing the horse approach from across the courtyard, your dearest friend, Gabriel - The Great Van Helsing - was returning from France today. He had been sent on a mission to capture and bring back Dr. Jekyll, alive. But word sent the day before his return showed that he would be returning empty handed. You walk down the stairs to greet him as he slows the horse and dismounts, “Gabriel!” arms tossed around his stiff body squeezing until he moves to return the sentiment. After you deem the hug long enough you let go, quirking an eyebrow at him, a slight frown overtakes your features, “You know how much trouble you’re in right?” You’re immediately met with a sigh and an eyeroll, Gabriel beginning to walk away.

“I don’t understand how you managed to mess this up, the Cardinal is extremely angry.” furiously pacing yourself to keep up with his long strides, the brim of his hat pulled low to hide any sort of expression upon his face. “Van Helsing are you even listening to me? The Cardinal is going to throw a-”

''I don’t give a damn what Jinette thinks, I got the job done didn’t I?” his tone unwavering and final, holding the door to the monastery open for you, following after. You decide not to answer as you walk through the glittering hall, making your way down to the confessional, standing in front of it as he enters. 

You waited outside the door, the conversation between Gabriel and Cardinal Jinette fading in and out with the fluctuation of their volume, the Cardinal remaining the loudest. You hated the way that Jinette spoke to him sometimes, Gabriel never failed to provide results, and had done everything in his power to fulfil every deed given to him by the church.  He was good at what he did, that was undeniable, but he was truly a good man at heart. 

He was the only reason you were allowed to stay within Vatican City, having shown up on the Ministry doorsteps only a few years after he did, you however were significantly younger when you did arrive. You’d been abandoned, living in the streets, when a rowdy group of men chased you all the way to the doors of the church. He had immediately come to your aid and ever since then he had somewhat taken on the role of the older sibling you never had, convincing his superiors to allow you to stay within the ancient building. He always had this air of guilt surrounding him whenever interacting with you, claiming that you reminded him of someone he once knew, but never explaining further than that. 

He taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself if the situation ever arose, he made you carry a small vial of holy water and a collapsible stake on your person at all times, telling you that you never know when you may need it. He was your only companion besides a friar named Carl, who was somewhat closer to your age, a madman when it came to inventing. 

Hearing the scrape of the sconce as the Cardinal opens the secret door, you slide into the booth next to Gabriel right before the metal gate slams into place, quietly taking your spot behind your friend as you begin the descent down into the order. You listen as the Cardinal gives the same spiel about being the last defence against evil, zoning out as you watch the monks move about the place. You snap back into focus at the sound of the projector whirring alive, Jinette giving Gabriel his newest assignment. “We need you to go to the east, to the far side of Romania. An accursed land, terrorised by all sorts of nightmarish creatures.” You watch Van Helsing's face go slightly pale as the image changes, an even more grim look taking over the one that usually resides upon his features, “Lorded over by a certain Count Dracula.” 

You slightly zone out once more as you study the painting, you can hear Gabriel speaking but are unaware of what it is he’s saying. You can’t help but feel a strange mixture of happiness and sadness take over your body as you look upon the man - The Count - in the image, you could swear to all that was holy that he looked familiar. Like you’d met him before. 

You’ve decided by what little of him you could see, that he was still undoubtedly handsome. Slightly taller than you, possibly 6-foot, dark hair, and shockingly blue eyes. 

You don’t notice the looks Gabriel throws your way, the realisation hitting him that you're lost at the sight of the photo. 

When the Cardinal changes the image projected, you rejoin the conversation, looking up to lock eyes with your friend, giving him a wary smile as you fight off the sudden emotional pit forming in your stomach. Listening as Jinette lists off members of this royal family, watching as Gabriel becomes starstruck at the sight of Princess Anna, giving him a smirk and a hard elbow to the ribs, him responding with a slight stomp onto your foot. 

You stop listening again when the insignia of his ring is mentioned, the pit returning to your stomach as you walk away to find Carl. You find the aforementioned man yelling at someone in a pedalling machine, gasping slightly as the person on said machine is electrocuted. “Carl what are you doing?” you’re met with a few mumbles of “Almost had it,” and “Maybe next time,” as Carl shuffles towards you, giving you a small pat on the arm and a crooked smile. He turns his attention to Gabriel as he approaches, automatically beginning his line of chastising and questioning. You follow as Carl begins putting things into a bag for him, Garlic, Holy Water, amongst some weapons. After he causes a viscous fluid to erupt into sparks upon the ground, you giggle as he turns with his inventors' goggles down, magnifying his eyes to a ridiculous level. He gives you a sour look, “the air is thick with envy” he says, rolling his eyes and walking away as you continue to giggle. 

He shuffles around to grab more weapons, going on about some substances that can emit light equivalent to the sun, telling Gabriel to use his imagination with it. “No Carl, I’m gonna use yours that’s why you’re coming with me.” “Oh hell be damned I am!” letting out a dramatic gasp as you clutch your chest, “Carl! You Cursed! Monks aren’t supposed to curse.” You watch as a smug grin takes over his face, leaning in close to you as if to tell a secret, “Well actually I’m still a friar, I can curse all I want. Damn it!” giving you a wink as he shuffles back to his original spot. 

“The Cardinal has ordered you to keep me alive as long as possible.” he continues, about to walk away before you grab his sleeve, “Wait, what about me? I want to come along as well.” You’re met with a stern look, the both of you completely ignoring Carl's mumbles about not being a field man as you follow Gabriel out of the Laboratory, “No, that’s entirely out of the question.” “Why not? I want to come to Transylvania, I’m always left behind when you go on missions. You know I get bored easily!” “You’re always left behind because you don’t have the training to go on missions, it’s highly dangerous-” You stop him once more, “You trained me Gabriel, remember?” cutting him off as he goes to respond, “You’d rather let a friar, who has no fighting experience what-so-ever join you versus someone who can actually hold their own?” Giving him the best pout you can, “Please Van Helsing, let me come with you.” applying a slight shake to the arm still in your grip. 

He doesn’t know what comes over him, whether it be the determined look in your eye or the idea that maybe he could use you as help if all went south, but with a strong reluctance coating his words, he agrees to let you come along. 

‘It was the longest trip of my life, a battle through storms and cold only to be put right in the face of death.’ 

You were tired, aching, surrounded by an angry mob when the first one swooped in from the sky. 

The woman, Princess Anna, yelled for everyone to run inside, to find shelter, as Van Helsing shot at the circling Vampires, while Carl was leaning against the wells’ edge, whimpering. You follow the woman as she takes off running - right after landing rather promiscuously on top of Gabriel - eventually shoving her down a cart as two out of the three vampires reach for you. 

You pant for breath as the sun comes out, everyone in the town coming out with it. You walk towards your friends, reaching for the stake sheathed at your side as a noise emits from the well. You scream as the sun goes back behind the clouds and the orange haired vampire bursts up, grabbing Anna by the shoulders. The black haired one not far behind her, not even looking at you as she grabs you and tosses you through the roof of one of the houses. 

You lay there for a moment, paralysed with pain and fear that overtakes your whole body. You snap to attention as the door in front of you bolts shut, muscle memory leads your hand down to your stake sheath, only to find your weapon missing, cursing as you realise you must have dropped it somewhere along being thrown into a building. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Anna, the woman dropping to your side to check on you. You’re about to let her know you’re okay when all of a sudden the orange-haired vampire lowers herself from the rafters of the house. 

You point up weakly, eyes going wide and letting out a yelp as Anna immediately stands and turns to come face to face with her. “Hello Anna” she hisses out, completely dropping and transforming into her regular facade. You do have to admit, she is rather pretty. “Nice to see you too Aleera,” words doused with Venom. You make a move to help her, but when a sharp pain shoots throughout your whole body as you lean forward, you have no choice but to flop back down to the ground. “Did I do something to you in a past life?” Anna backs up slowly, the Vampire, Aleera, following her every move. “Don’t play coy with me, princess,” somehow teleporting to be in front of Anna, “I know what lurks in your lusting heart.” “I hope you have a heart Aleera, because someday I’m going to drive a stake through it.” You watch with bated breath as Aleera literally smacks Anna out of the window, then turns to gaze down upon you. 

She tilts her head at you, studying for a moment. A look that almost resembles recognition passes her features before she dives out the window after Anna. “Fuck.” you murmur, beginning to wiggle your limbs as you try to fight off the searing pain travelling through your body. When you’re able to move once more, you make your way out of the house, down the stairs and through the door, like a perfectly sane person, grabbing a large shard of glass from outside, watching as Anna bursts into another home. 

You weakly run, limping every step, attempting to follow her in case she needed what little assistance you could provide in your current state. Bursting into the house to see the two Vampires over her, mouths gaping open, fangs sharp and extended, their faces taking on slightly demonic forms. You watch as they suddenly scream, twisting and writhing as they turn back into their winged counterparts, flying out of the house.

You offer her a hand, no words passed between the two of you, only pained smiles and grateful expressions, lifting her up as the adrenaline leaves your body, limping out into the street with her. Walking towards the church where your friends sit on its steps, you pass by Gabriels’ hat, turning and grabbing it for him, gently brushing some of the dirt and snow off of it. Bringing it to him and sitting down, you’re met with concerning remarks from both him and Carl, hell, you’d be concerned too if you also saw your friend be thrown into a roof from 40 feet in the air, but you were just too tired to form any words. Letting your head thump back against one of the top steps as an angry crowd of Translyvanians forms around you. 

You’re thankful when Anna jumps to your defence, the revealing of Van Helsings’ identity forces the crowd to back off. You raise your head at the mention of a drink and somewhere to stay, muttering a ‘yes please’ before you slump back against the stairs. Feeling arms come around both your sides, both Carl and Gabriel help hoist you up, supporting your weight as you begin your trek to where Anna was staying, at the old Governors’ house. 

You can’t help the strange sense that washes over you at the sight of the building. 

“But soon, the final battle will begin, I must go and find out who our new visitor is.”

‘It was a restless night, full of aches. Visions of you and a man dancing through your head, along with visions of great pain and sorrow.’

‘Don’t do this Gabriel… Please let go of my wife.’

You could hear screaming, a woman falling through a window. Great agonising pain filling your senses ; grief, sadness, anger, all equally coursing through your veins. 

‘I’m sorry… But you broke the oath.’

Flashes of a happy couple pass through your mind, ending as you turn to be stabbed through the heart by Gabriel-

Shooting up with a gasp, feeling every bone in your body protest at such movement. You take heaving, gulping breaths, the fear seizing your muscles making it hard to intake oxygen. You can feel sweat running off you in rivulets as you try to equal out your heartbeat. What did you just see? This hadn’t been the first dream you’d had of this scenario, with Gabriel killing you, you’d had a dream eerily similar to this one when you first met him all those years ago, except in that one you were the woman falling through the window. 

Bringing up a hand to wipe absentmindedly at your forehead, trying to cease what you assume is a river of sweat. It’s only when your hand comes back covered in a fluid that’s smelling and stringing to your skin, it’s within that moment when you’re able to register the low growling do you look up, and come eye to eye with a werewolf. 

It pounces the second you look at it, giving you only a moment to roll out of the bed and scream as loud as you can. Dodging as best you can as the creature lays havoc to the room you’re in, ducking for cover as leaps for you, watching it crash through the window. You turn as your room door is opened, Gabriel looking in with features clouded by fear. He calls your name, coming around to rest his hands upon your shoulders, “What happened?” “Werewolf,” a shaky hand coming to point towards the shattered window, “Went that way.” Grabbing you by the shoulders he directs you to a ripped up armchair sitting in the corner of the room, sitting you down and handing you your stake, huh, where did he find that? “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” 

You don’t stay, waiting a few moments after he’s left to get up. It’s only when yelling and crashing resonates from downstairs do you hurry your pace. You arrive at the sight of Gabriel running out of the estate and Anna standing in a catatonic state, staring off in his direction. Disregarding the broken window, you already have a feeling of what broke it to begin with, you turn to Anna, gently grasping her elbows and directing her attention to you. 

“Anna? What happened?” lifting one hand up to her neck, gently tilting her head from side to side, looking for any signs of pain or damage. “Are you alright? Did it hurt you?” That seems to do the trick as her glossy eyes fill with more tears, finally spilling over as she looks at you, “My brother. It’s my brother.” You say nothing, cooing slightly as her tears fall faster, pulling her into a hug. “He’s going to kill him.” Words murmured into your shoulder. “Who’s going to kill who, Anna?” “Van Helsings’ going to try and kill my brother.'' And with those words she takes off out the door. 

You grab a pile of fabric off the back of a nearby chair, knowing that the cold would be too severe for what Anna, and yourself, were currently wearing. You saddle up the horse you came into town on, going off in the direction of several sets of footprints. When you approach where Anna and Van Helsing stand in the graveyard you catch the remnants of what was undoubtedly a heated conversation. “He has taken everything from me. Leaving me alone in this world.”  You quietly dismount, grabbing the blanket you brought and throwing part of it over Annas’ shoulders, slightly startling her with your sudden presence. You say nothing as you resume your previous embrace with her, watching as Anna all but crumbles into the affection. 

“To have the memories of those you have loved and lost is perhaps harder than to have no memories at all.” his words spoken with a guilty glance towards you, an unexplainable rage filling you at the idea of whatever he could possibly be implying. “Alright, we’ll look for your brother.”

“It was obvious that Van Helsing was wary of this man, but when he turned to me I felt no fear. He looked at me in what could only be sheer reverence, and I felt my mind settle.’

The Castle was looming, with electricity zapping to and fro from the top tower. Hanging behind as to give Anna and Gabriel some time to talk. If the fate of Anna's family wasn’t at stake you would take the time to poke at his lovesick behaviour, but until everything was over you held your remarks at bay. 

Entering the dusty manor, pushing cobwebs out of your way, the three of you make your way into a room filled to the brim with sacks hanging from the ceiling, reminding you of very slimy chrysalides. “Have you ever seen these things before?” you aim your question towards either of your company. “No. What do you think they are?” Both of you turn to Gabriel, “Offspring.” “What?” spoken at the same time. “A man with three gorgeous women for 400 years-” “Yes, vampires are the walking dead, it only makes sense their children are born dead.”

Pushing your way through to reveal a grand hall filled with even more of the pods, electricity crackling down the hall and into the room you are in. Watching as the pods begin to pulse and wiggle. “Van Helsing don’t-” exclaiming in exaggerated disgust as he sticks his hand into the sack, throwing the slime substance out of his way. 

“So this is what you get when Vampires mate-” not given the time to finish his sentence as it comes to life, both you and Anna screaming out in disgust. Another blast of electricity barrels through the room, bringing with it a shiver up your spin and the jolt of a static shock. The three of you run as they begin to drop from the ceiling, faintly aware of voices coming from somewhere above you.

Despite Annas’ pleas, you watch as Gabriel exits out of your covered spot, entering the desolate hall once again to begin shooting at the vampiric offspring still flying around the room. He looks up somewhere in the room, a slightly smug look upon his face, “Now that I have your attention.” A giant winged creature falls from the sky and begins to pursue your friend. The gust of air it brings knocks over decorations, items falling all around you. You don’t even register Anna rushing up the stairs behind you, nor the beam and chandelier falling after her, blocking anyone from following. You do, however, register the doors at the end of the hall slamming closed, locking you in here with Van Helsing and the creature. 

Crouching down next to some crates, watching as the creature swoops down, turning into a man. Turning into the Count from the Cardinals’ slideshow. “I can tell the character of a man by the sound of his heartbeat.” A deep accented voice lilting, “Usually when I approach,” clapping his hands together in a slightly off-rhythm staccato, “I can almost dance to the beat. Strange that yours is so steady.”  Hands ending their sporadic clap as he continues to walk forward, all noise ceasing except for crackling of electricity.

When Gabriel drops down and stabs the man you can’t help the sadness that fills you. A strange sense taking over you, making you want to walk over and kill your best friend where he stands. “Requistat in pace” words uttered with an arrogance. You stand up, beginning to make your way towards them, “Hello Gabriel,” freezing in your steps. Did he know this man?

“Is this your silver stake?” pulling it out of his chest and tossing it over his shoulder. “How long has it been, 3- 400 years? You don’t remember, do you?” “What exactly is it I should be remembering?” The two of them begin to slowly circle around one another, “You are the Great Van Helsing! Trained by monks and mullahs from Tibet to Istanbul, protected by Rome herself! But like me, hunted by all others.” 

“The Knights of the Holy Order know all about you, It’s no surprise you would know about me.” “Yes but it’s much more than this” the man laughs as he takes a step towards Van Helsing, the two coming full circle. “We have such history, You and I, Gabriel. Have you ever wondered why you have such horrible nightmares, horrific scenes of ancient battles past. Horrific scenes of betrayal? Would you like for me to refresh your memory a little, a few details from your sordid past?” You shuffle slightly, the heel of your boot scraping across a loose tile in the floor, drawing the attention of both Gabriel and the Count. 

He gazes in disbelief. Freezing for a few moments before taking delicate, hesitant, steps towards you. You knew that you should probably flee, run for cover or to your friend, but instead you stayed put, Standing your ground as he approached you. He walks until the two of you almost stand toe-to-toe. An ungloved hand reaches out towards you and you can’t help the flinch that runs through your body, heart rate picking up in fear. He looks pained at your cower, hand still moving to brush lightly against your jaw, freezing cold fingers solidify his true nature to you.

 “Do not fear me.” 

‘I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.’

Words spoken in such a hushed whisper that only you could hear with your proximity. And for some strange reason, you find yourself calming at his words, the fear leaving your still shellshocked system, heart rate slowing. You pay no attention to your friend who’s currently sneaking up behind the man, completely enraptured by the Count. 

He mutters something that you can't quite catch, his hand beginning to drift down your neck, brushing against the necklace round your neck. He picks up the chain and lets it run through his fingers, getting steadily closer to the ring that resides on the end of it. A small silver wedding band that never seemed to tarnish rested along the chain, you had no idea where you had gotten it, it had been in your possession for what seemed forever. It was obviously valuable and you could never seem to part with it, in fear of it one day sliding off your finger during your work you ran it onto a bare chain, deciding to wear it as a necklace. 

Before he can reach the ring at the end of the chain the sound of something clicking into place takes the attention of both of you, him whipping around to grab the silver crucifix Gabriel thrusts into his face, screaming in pain as he makes contact with the holy item. Jumping away as the crucifix bursts into flames within his hand, beginning to melt. He tosses the remains of it away, regaining his composure at a lightning rate. 

“Perhaps that is a conversation for another time.” He takes a few steps back, walking a few feet past you. “Allow me to reintroduce myself, I am Count Vladislaus Dragulia. Born 1422, Murdered 1462.” 

‘Vlad’ rings through your head, the memory of glass shattering and screaming echoing through your mind. You don’t realise that the screaming has become real, Van Helsing grabs your hand and pulls you away with him, still in a dissociative state you don’t realise what’s happened until you both make your escape through a dumbwaiter. 

The two of you make your way to the roof, running into a frantic Anna. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Words rushed to you and her, Gabriel grabbing one arm each and launching off a line, extending all the way over the rushing river below, to the nearby mountain. The three of you speed off, almost making it halfway across before the line suddenly shakes. The werewolf from the house, Anna’s brother, suddenly hitches a ride on the back, sliding a bit before one of its claws slices the line in half, taking you and the half closest to the Castle, down.

You can’t help the deja vu that washes over you as you fall, the freezing cold river below you. The sound of Van Helsing and Anna screaming for you is drowned out by your own. 

You can faintly see the outline of someone looking over the edge of the castle railing, a yell of ‘no’ reaching your ears. The person disappears from the edge, only for a winged beast to take their place and jump from the roof. ‘It’s the Count’ you realise somewhere in your mind, closing your eyes in what could only be described as… relief? Even though your heart was beating out of your chest, deep down you knew you’d be alright. The wind is bitterly cold, nipping at your back, whistling in your ears. 

Until suddenly it’s not. 

Your body smacks into the water, cold overtaking all your senses as your body freezes. You can faintly feel yourself moving, arms weakly flailing to break the surface of the water to no avail. The current of the roaring river continuously pulls you under, giving you no chance to save yourself.

Right before you pass out from either shock or adrenaline you’re faintly aware of being pulled from the water and into the air. You’re held against something much larger than you are. One minute you’re plummeting, falling down and then sinking to your untimely demise and then the next you’re going up, soaring through the air. 

And with that, you pass out. 

~~~

You drift in and out of consciousness. You can remember being placed in front of a hearth, someone’s lap laid under your head, rough fingers running through your hair. Then three sets of hands and whispering voices, belonging to whom you believe were women, placing and pulling different layers of clothes upon you. You heard conversations about a creature and tracking it down, followed by being picked up by something much larger than you, a hood being pulled over your head, and the flap of great wings. 

When you fully wake, it’s to the feeling of flying. Slowly blinking your eyes you try to adjust to the darkness. You realise you’re being carried by a large creature. Pointed ears, flat-bridged nose, and a maw that contained razor sharp teeth. Its wingspan had to spread to at least 15 feet or greater, and had to be at least 12 feet tall. And you realise that it oddly resembles a bat. 

You hadn’t realised it was looking at you. Too busy in your observative reverie to notice the slitted dark grey eyes that had snapped your way. The large bat lets out a strange rumble when you make eye contact with it, beginning its descent. You’re laid down on what you assume is grass, watching as the creature soars back into the sky, transforming midair. That’s when you remember the last few hours of your life; officially meeting The Count, and all the strange emotions that came with the introduction, all of the rage, anguish, and nostalgia. And the fact that he had saved you, throwing himself off the top of the castle to rescue you from the river. 

He drops back down to the ground with a certain grace and elegance to his actions, slightly bowing with a hand outstretched for theatrics. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was doing it to lighten the air, immediately throwing you a smile and small chuckle as he does it. You can’t help the smile that overtakes your face as well, accepting the hand he offers you, pulling you off the ground. Finally taking in your surroundings, you realise you’re standing in front of a semi-dilapidated building. It looks to be a small fortress of sorts, surrounded by mountains on either side, along with the faint sound of a rushing river a great distance below you. 

“Where are we?” words muttered, turning to gaze at him. 

“Poenari.” 

‘He can lie and claim to be a hollow man all he wants. But when I finally realised who he was and what he meant to me, I could see the pure emotion overtake his face, and for once I swore I could hear a heartbeat that wasn’t my own.’

The two of you walked silently through the building. 

The dank remnants of the castle smelled foul; stagnant. The place reeked of death and sorrow, everything was covered in thick layers of dust. The Count walked quietly behind you, offering no explanation as to why you were here. Walking aimlessly through the corridors, footsteps echoing all around as you turn a corner, a loud gasp ripping its way out of the back of your throat. 

The hallway leading to a set of winding stairs was the embodiment of death. Dried blood and half decomposed skeletons line the path,  the stale smell of decomposition lingering in the air. You hadn’t realised you’d stopped until a hand placed itself upon the small of your back, gently pushing you forward. You observe the destruction around you, noticing baskets of mouldy, moth-eaten linens, and cleaning supplies next to some of the skeletons. “Servants.” rings out Dracula’s voice behind you, his hand still upon your back. Coming towards the end of the hall, right before the stairwell, you notice a bare spot. There was dried blood in an outline that shows it obviously pooled from someone’s body, but there was a lack of a skeleton, or any sign that one had been there, at least. “What happened to that one?” pointing down at the spot on the floor. “Agnes was buried.” is all he offers. 

You kept Agnes with you, after all she’d been one of your closest confidants since your mother had died.

He nudges you up the stairs, guiding you through the dark. At the very top of the stairs was a thick wooden door in the middle of a small hallway. At the end of a hallway was a painting. Unlike everything else in this place the painting was spotless. It looked brand new, not a speck of dust on it, like it had been visited often. 

That’s not what captured your attention though. What captured it was that the painting was a portrait of a man and woman. Happy, smiling, loving,

And they looked just like the two of you. 

You step forward, shoes lining up in the dust-free imprint of feet much larger than yours; a well-worn spot. Reaching a hand out, fingers gliding across the woman in the painting, your other hand coming up to brush against your own features. Same hair colour, texture, same eyes, same birthmarks and scars. Her hands crossed gently across her lap, upon her ring finger lay the ring you wear around your neck. 

Gasping, taking a stumbling step back, you whip around to face him. You can feel your heartbeat pick up, confusion and fear starting to take over. “Why-” breath uneven, “Why did you bring me here? What is this place?”

He brings a hand up to the door, pushing it open and stepping back, a slight sweeping gesture to show you go in first. 

“Our home.”

Entering the room, you’re met with what you assume was once a very luxurious room. A dilapidated four-poster bed sits in the middle of the wall that the door is on. The room is stagnant like the rest of the place, but like the painting, free of dust. There’s a dresser, a writing desk, and a gap, from floor to ceiling, jagged shards of glass still remaining around the frame of what was once a window. Torn, mouldy, moth-ridden curtains billow in the light breeze, the stone floor is covered in moss and mould, years of rain pouring in through the opening had made it so. 

In the middle of the room is a dark stain on the floor, a trail trickling from the window to it. You don’t want to believe it’s blood, the colour of it is black, too dark to resemble that which was under the skeletons in the hall, but you know. You know that it’s blood and whatever left the puddle wasn’t human. At the thought you cast a glance over your shoulder to the man who brought you here to begin with, he stands in the doorway, and goes no further than that. You take a step towards the gaping hole in the wall, mindful of any shards of glass on the floor.

You can hear the churning of fast moving water, you can hear the wind whipping in the wind, and as you bend slightly to look out, you can hear screaming. 

“Who are you?” 

“Who I am is of no importance at the moment,” 

“Well everything was lined up perfectly, but now, the Voivode has added a new term to the treaty. Your hand in marriage.” 

“I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.” 

‘He always treated you with a gentle hand, was never harsh, never cruel, and he never-ever raised his voice. You were his wife, and you should never need to fear him’

You failed to notice the dark figure in the corner of your room.

 “Don’t do this Gabriel,” “Please let go of my wife.” 

And with that, he pushes you out the window.  

And then everything went dark. 

You stumble violently away from the window, knees collapsing under your own weight. A firm presence makes itself known behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist, holding you up. Your vision is spotty, head pounding with this newfound knowledge of a past life and your eyes well with tears. You tilt your head up, making immediate eye contact with the man holding you. Your voice comes out scratchy and choked, “Vlad?” as the tears begin to spill out of your eyes. Vlad gives a pained smile as he turns you around and pulls your body towards his. 

The embrace is emotional as you reduce down to nothing but shaky limbs and heart-wrenching sobs. He holds you strongly, there’s not an inch of his body that doesn’t touch yours, and you could swear that in that moment, you could feel another heartbeat alongside yours. 

The sound of sizzling breaks you away from the hug, looking up in time to see a singular tear make its trek down his cheek, burning the skin it slides down. You quickly bring up your hand, sleeve pulled around your fist to dry it before it causes anymore damage. As you make a move to bring your hand back down he moves quick as lightning to hold it to his face, head tilting to place a delicate kiss upon the skin of your palm. “I missed you,” the words are soft, your throat still scratchy. “Not as much as I missed you, my darling” and with that, he kisses you. 

The kiss is soft, yet powerful. With the force of almost 200 years worth of lost time fueling it. Vlad pulls you even closer, if it were possible. You can still hear the light sizzling where tears are undoubtedly still falling from his eyes. His lips are as soft as you remember, his movements still the same as well. The only difference was his temperature, a constant reminder that you were no longer the same. 

A reminder of the reason you were in Transylvania to begin with. 

Before you can say anything, Vlad pulls away from you. His left hand continues to hold you firm at the waist while his right moves from your cheek to smooth over the top of your hair, coming to a stop at the nape of your neck, cradling your head. There’s a furrow in his brows as his eyes flit across your face, “What is wrong my darling? Why does your heart panic so?” you close your eyes and gently shake your head.

“What about Gabriel, Vlad?” 

“What about him?”

“The only reason we’ve come to Transylvania is so he can kill you, Vlad. He’s vindictive and will not stop until he sees you turn to ash before his feet. Oh this is all my fault,-” 

“Do not say these things.” His right hand tilting your head to look at him, “How is any of it your fault, my darling? Fate is not your fault. You were meant to come back to me one day, and now you have.” A delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, “And as for Gabriel. I will handle him myself. Now come, we have somewhere to be.” Taking your hand and gently pulling you back the way you came. 

When you make it outside, there's three women dressed in lavish silks, gossamer, and fine jewellery. You find yourself subconsciously clutching his hand harder when the three women outstretch their arms and move towards you. There’s almost an ethereal echoing coming from somewhere as the women surround you, cooing their praises. Delicate hands with thin, claw-like fingers move across you. One hand pats your hair, another down your arm, with a ghosting touch on your back. The women skit around, their movements are graceful, like a dance of sorts, and you find yourself in a trance like state. 

“Oh Master,” says the red-headed one, who you recognize as the one Anna called Aleera, “She’s just as perfect as you said.” You find yourself blushing at the statement and the attention that’s being showered upon you. Two cold hands scoop up your face to bring you directly in front of the long black haired one, “You are absolutely stunning, my dear.” “Thank you” whispered quietly, your face practically engulfed in flames. 

Casting a glance towards Vlad only to find he’s already looking at you, a gentle smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. The women stop their parade of affection with a singular lift of Vlad’s hand. “Have you taken care of what you needed to?” His voice echoing out with a seriousness to it as he reaches his hand out towards you. “They tricked us with the carriages, master, and escaped with the monster.” You can see the second that the anger forms in his eyes so you pull yourself away from the women to walk towards him, taking his hand and rubbing your thumb upon the back of his knuckles in hopes to sooth him. Your efforts work as he tilts to look down at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“No matter. Van Helsing is heading straight for Budapest anyways. Aleera I want you to go and follow them, Verona you go with her.” and with a gesture of his hand the two turn into their other forms and fly off into the night, leaving just Vlad, yourself, and the black-haired woman. “Marishka, take my darling and get her ready for tomorrow evening.” You hear a quiet ‘yes master’ as Vlad places a small kiss in the middle of your forehead, before releasing you to a now winged Marishka. “Don’t worry my darling, Marishka is a gentle flyer.” And with that you’re lifted into the air. 

~~~

You’re at a glorious castle in Budapest, a summer home, you remember Verona briefly telling you when her and Aleera finally catch back up. She works quietly and carefully to do your hair while you sit in front of the vanity, slightly nerved by the fact that you wouldn’t even be able to tell she was there if it wasn’t for her brushing and pinning your hair, the lack of a reflection startling. She makes small and polite conversation with you, including an apology for throwing you earlier in the town, as she admitted to not looking to see whom she had grabbed before she picked you up. 

“We are truly very excited to have you within our presence, for many years we have all heard stories of you, the heartbreak Dracula felt at the loss of you and your child never truly went away, no matter how we tried to quell it.” Her accented voice lulls quietly through the dim candle-lit room, and you're briefly hit with a burst of guilt and sadness at the idea of them trying to do everything they could to make Vlad feel better, only for him to rebuff their attempts. You can’t help but offer her an apology.

 “What for, my dear? You are here now and that’s all that matters, everything is as it should be.” and with that she finishes your hair, which has been gently pinned to your head, curls looking defined. Before you could say anything else she walks away as the two other brides enter the room. Aleera is the first to reach you, lithe fingers gliding down both sides of your neck as her cold hands come to lay delicately upon your shoulders. “You look magnificent,” words cooed to you, “truly stunning.” Finishes off Marishka, taking a seat next to you on the bench as she leans forward to reach for the jewellery. 

You hear the shuffling of feet, what you assume to be Verona returning from wherever she had gone. When Marishka is finished clipping in earrings for you, you turn your head to find Verona holding a light blue dress in a style much like that of her and the others dresses. It’s complete with gossamer sleeving that opens up around your wrist and trails all the way down to the floor, a form-fitting partially transparent torso and a loose skirt made of a layered sheer chiffon material. “And now for the final touch.”

~~~

You look and feel like a true goddess as the girls lead you down a hall, you’re conscientiously aware of the ethereal echoing that has returned as they giggle while taking you down to the ballroom. The music grows louder and louder as you approach a large set of double doors, half of a masquerade mask is quickly slipped onto your face as the doors are open and you’re thrust into the room. 

There’s hundreds of people in the room, ranging of all ages as you spot children up in the rafters. There’s people dancing, people performing on silks and with fire, and so many other things that it makes it hard to take in the grandeur of the room all at once. You’re aware of how you must look to all the others, jaw dropped and head constantly turning to take in your surroundings. When you turn your head to look back in front of you, you’re met with the sight of Vlad. He’s in his usual clothing, just with a gold cloak tied around his neck, a mask the same chromatic colour to match, with his hand outstretched towards you. 

You wordlessly take his hand and allow him to pull you closer, his hands gently begin roaming, one hand quickly lifting the mask to take in your features before dropping it back down to rest on your face. “You look absolutely stunning, my darling.” A cold kiss pressed upon your lips, “May I have the privilege of dancing with you?” Eyes boring into your own, he quirks up the corner of his lips into an ever arrogant smirk. “Why yes you may.” Words whispered towards him quietly, acutely aware of all the eyes that are upon the two of you. 

Vlad takes your hand and leads you to the spot directly in front of the platform in which a veiled woman stands upon. The rest of the guests clap as whatever piece of music is being played comes to an end, partners taking their places on the dancefloor. You quickly grab Vlad’s arm as a sudden realisation hits you, “Wait, Vlad, I can’t dance.” eyes wide with fear at the notion of making yourself look like a fool in front of all these refined people. He turns to you with a somewhat reassuring smile on his face, “Don’t worry my darling, you’ve danced this dance many times before. You know what to do.” A look of sheer disbelief covers your features, you open your mouth to throw a sly retort back to him but are promptly cut off as the woman on the stage begins a beautiful aria. He lifts your hand up delicately before softly spinning you outwards. All of a sudden you throw your arm out in a slow and graceful manner, the steps of the dance flooding back into your mind. When you spin back towards him there’s a certain look of, I told you so, overtaking his face, as he grabs your waist and pulls you towards him firmly.

He takes off his mask, then your own, before placing a kiss upon your lips. “I told you that you knew it.” as you both fall back into step with the others, “Of course,” smiling at him softly, “How could I ever forget the steps to the music of our first dance as husband and wife?” A puzzled look quickly takes place upon your face, “Is that the same singer?” question asked as you look back and forth between the veiled woman and Vlad. “You’ll find that many of the faces in this room, once unmasked, will appear very familiar to you.” He spins you until your back is to his front, subconsciously tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck for Vlad to place a cold kiss directly over your pulse point. 

The tempo of the music picks up and you, on instinct, fall into a faster spin with Vlad. He dips you in front of a mirror, eyes snapping over to look at your reflection, the way it appears that you’re floating, Vlad nowhere to be found, none of the other guests can be seen either. You come to the sudden realisation that you’re a mere mortal in a room with hundreds of vampires, your mind begins slipping, remembering the fact that you’ve been choosing to ignore to instead relish in your past; Vlad is dead.

An undead creature who never grows old, who feeds on other humans, you realise how temporary your situation with him is in comparison to the rest of his life. This one minute moment in a sea of others that are sure to come, and all of a sudden, your life pales in comparison. You can feel your stomach turning with the sudden acknowledgement, a wave of nausea hitting you. As if he can sense where your thoughts are going he quickly scoops you back up, continuing the dance. “It’s alright my darling,” the hand upon your back quickly sweeping up and down in a soothing gesture. “There’s no need to fear, nothing is going to happen to you, everything is going to be alright.” He stares into your eyes, his own translating the sincerity of his words. 

You feel yourself relax with the reassurance, head coming to rest just under his own, your eyes closing as you gently press your face into his chest. “What’s going to happen to me?” you don’t feel the need to elaborate, as you’re sure Vlad already knows what you’re asking. “Nothing that you don’t want. If you choose, it will be one brief moment of pain, and we can be together forever.” You pull your head away from him, your eyes still closed as he dips you once more, his hand skating up the front of your dress to rest upon your neck. “What if I choose yes?” “Then it would be my honour, my love.” A deep breath taken in, then he screams, dropping you in a blaze of fire as the cape he’s wearing begins to burn. 

You stand up quickly, worriedly making your way towards him before you’re swept off the ground. All the air is knocked out of your lungs as you tumble onto a balcony, slamming straight into a door. Disoriented, you can make out someone saying your name and shaking your shoulders. “Wake up!” You gaze confused into the eyes of Gabriel, as you hear a voice from down below. 

“Gabriel…” his voice is even, words spoken slowly. “Oh Gabriel…” you stagger towards the bannister in time to see Vlad step into the middle of the room, the cloak that he was previously wearing off to the side in a smouldering pile. All the guests have cleared a wide berth for Vlad as he stops and gazes upwards, a certain fear emanating from them. “Oh Gabriel, welcome to my summer palace.” A smirk thrown up towards him before he turns his eyes towards you, giving you a subtle nod as Igor bursts into the room with the Frankenstein monster in tow, screaming his revenge. 

“Now that everything… is as it should be… Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you; Van Helsing!” The hundreds of vampires in the room unmask themselves, faces morphing into their sinister counterparts. The sound of screaming and screeching fills the room as you cover your ears, eyes cinching shut. Gabriel takes this as his moment to wrap an arm around you, pulling you away. You protest, squirming in an attempt to get out of his grip, which only causes him to hold you tighter and lift you off your feet. 

He burst through the door that you ran into, where you’re met with Anna right next to the door and Carl at the end of the hall next to a stained glass window. Passing Anna she grabs your arm, beginning to pick up speed with Van Helsing, causing you to squirm more, “Gabriel put me down!” But the protests fall on deaf ears. He strides with purpose towards Carl, a walk turning into a run. “O-Oh where are we going?” Carl stutters, dropping a device onto the floor, “Out the window!” and before either you nor Carl can protest, you shatter the probably thousand year old stained glass as you jump through. 

As you drop towards yet another river, a light equivalent to the sun fills up the entire palace, shattering all the other windows. The only thing you can think to do as you hurl through the air is to scream for Vlad, worried that he was caught in the blast of light, and then you once more drop into water. 

As you resurface you can hear the echoing of screams in the aether, your head continuously goes up and down as you struggle to get your bearings and to reorient yourself. Once you come up for good you take gasping breaths. Gabriel floats next to you, panting for breath with a certain ecstatic look upon his face, “Carl, you're a genius!” “Yes, a genius with access to unstable chemicals.” 

You watch as a boat with Igor, the Frankenstein Monster, and a few other strange looking creatures depart from the port, Van Helsing furiously swimming towards him, Carl and Anna following after. But you remain still. You can’t help but allow yourself to be consumed by the water for a moment, dropping back beneath the rippling current. The water is cold, all consuming, sending a shiver down your spine. You open your eyes, gazing up to see the moonlight cutting through the water and shining down to where you float. You watch the bones and remains of the vampires sink down to the bottom of the moat, the realisation that Vlad or any of the brides could be amongst them fill you with such an overpowering sense of loss. You clench your eyes shut and with the last little bits of breath in your lungs you scream. The air bubbles out of your mouth, floating upwards, you follow them, still screaming when you break the surface. 

The scream gains the attention of Gabriel, Anna, and Carl, who now hold onto a portcullis that had come down from the castle. Your voice gives out, eyes going blurry with tears, choked sobs making their way past your lips. You hear Anna call your name in a worried tone, beginning to make her way over to you. “Stay away,” voice so quiet that no one should have heard it, but Gabriel gives a sharp “Why?” You lift your head up to look at him, trying to blink the rain and tears out of your eyes. You’re about to say something but you see the half-circular red mark that had welted and scabbed over peeking out of his partially unbuttoned shirt. You’d recognize that mark anywhere. Years of pouring over all the books on the supernatural that you could find in the Abbey, hearing stories from Carl about the creation of monsters. 

Van Helsing had been bitten by a werewolf. 

Sensing your gaze upon the mark he places his hand over it. You continue to stare at him, not saying a word as Anna reaches you to place a comforting hand upon your shoulder. You hear her quietly ask what's wrong, turning to look at her, you see an abundance of understanding and hesitancy in her eyes. Could she know? Know that you felt your allegiances slipping to the other side? It was certain that Van Helsing knew, given by the anger in his eyes. 

You open your mouth to say something when the echoing sound of laughter comes through the air. You’d recognize that laugh anywhere. Three light shadows move through the sky, followed by one large dark shadow. You gasp as all 4 come swooping down towards the water, edges of wings slicing across the surface sending sprays arcing into the air. You watch as Carl and Van Helsing duck, Anna following their actions as well, her hand that was still on your arm tries to pull you down with her but before she can Vlad follows behind his brides, swooping down towards the water and plucking you from the surface. 

He makes a sharp turn upwards almost grazing the portcullis before flying higher and higher into the sky. He then straightens back out as you hang below him, Vlad holding onto you under your armpits as Aleera slows down to allow him to pass her before she places herself directly in front of you. You turn your head to look at her, noticing the ball of dark fabric within her arms. Watching as she unfurls it to reveal a cloak, placing the hood on top of your head before fastening it in place just below your collarbones. When it’s on you she gives a sharp grin before letting out another laugh and speeding up to resume her spot with Verona and Marishka. The wind whips at your back, causing the cloak to wrap around your front, you feel yourself being pulled up and jostled around until you’re almost in a position that resembles a bridal carry. Vlad uses one hand to pull the cloak all the way around your body, nestling you against him. You pull the hood further over your head before wrapping your arms into the cloak, balling it into your fists to hold onto the fabric, you turn your head until the wind is at the back of it, and at no risk of blowing the hood off. 

You shiver from the cold of your wet clothes, from the cold of the rain that is still falling, and from the wind that gets stronger from how fast you’re going through the air, the shivering leads to you being pulled impossibly closer to the creature that carries you, looking up to find sharp eyes already upon you, bat ears swivelling back and forth, listening for any signs of danger or discomfort. You can’t really read his expression, not in this form anyways. 

“How is it that I always end up falling from dangerous heights into water?” giving a half-hearted smile to convey that you’re telling a joke, and that you’ll be okay. You’re not given a verbal response, just a deep chuckle and the slight digging of sharp claws into your back, almost like his little way of jokingly warning you to ‘knock it off’. You let out a small giggle, laying your head against him once more, before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

~~~

‘The peace that I felt, the sense of homeliness within the presence of Vlad and his Brides. The comfort of having these people who loved and cared for one another begin to love and care for me was something that I cannot describe in its entirety to you.’ 

There was no telling how long you were into the flight or where exactly you were going when you woke up. Your clothes were dry and the rain had stopped, although the clouds wherever you were out hovered ominously in the air with the promise of more. You let out a yawn, trying your best to stretch out your limbs while not trying to move so much that you felt like you’d fall. You feel a large hand about three times the size of your own smooth itself over the top of your hooded head before a deep rumbling voice lets out a curt remark of “Almost there.” 

It’s then that you see a large castle, much bigger than Castle Frankenstein or the one in Budapest. It has a bridge that leads nowhere, broken off not even one-fourth of the way across, surrounded by a deep abysmal ravine and peaks of snowy mountains for as far as the eyes can see, offering no way in, and no way out. 

Unless you had wings of course. 

The wives drop down around the halfway mark of the crumbled bridge and Vlad follows suit, dropping down effortlessly, transforming mid-descent, all with you still in his arms. He sets you on your feet slowly as the other three come towards you, their steps almost floating, the ethereal echoing filling the air around you once more. Hands come out to pat your hair and your clothes, various questions being thrown about; Are you alright? Are you cold? Do you need anything? You can’t help but fluster under all the attention, feeling your face grow warm. You go to answer their question before you’re caught off guard by a sneeze, which makes you shiver and bundle back into the cloak. They’re immediately sent into a panicked frenzy, going on about you falling ill from all the rain and cold, mumbles about a warm bath are the last thing you hear as they all disappear towards the castle doors, leaving you and Vlad standing there by yourselves. 

You turn to look at him, only to find him already staring at you, not that you’re surprised. He has this soft look in his eyes, one that you saw many times throughout your marriage in your previous life, there’s a smile on his face and you could swear that there was colour in his cheeks. 

You gaze around at your surroundings and are met with the sight of skeletons impaled on posts lining the bridge, giving Vlad an incredulous look you’re met with a look of sheer innocence. “Well I’ve seen this decor before.” laughing as you speak, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Vlad instantly responds without pause, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders, walking you towards the castle doors. “Oh really? So you’d have me believe that this is the doing of your brides?” feigning ignorance as you gently hit your forehead, “Oh silly me I had almost forgotten that you were married to Verona the Impaler.” sarcasm drips from your every word as he turns his head to look at you from under his brow. 

The walk remains silent for the next few minutes as you make your way inside the castle and begin traversing up the stairs. “Vlad,” met with a small hum, “How did you find this place?” You’re met with silence, watching as various emotions subtly twinge his features. “I didn’t find this place. I was banished here.” He doesn’t elaborate as you come to a set of doors, arm leaving your shoulders to hold it open for you. It opens to an expansive room, with another door in the room that is currently open with gentle wafts of steam billowing out of it. You’re met with the brides, who are finishing up drawing you a bath. You thank them repeatedly, stating that they didn’t need to do that for you, but are quickly silenced as they leave the room, except for Verona. 

“I’ll take your dress for you so it may be cleaned. The water has muddied it.” Giving a nod, you take off the cloak and move to drop it next to you before a hand swoops out and grabs it, throwing it over his forearm. Vlad then moves behind you to untie the laces of your dress, loosening it enough for you to drop it down your shoulders, where it is then promptly taken by Verona who leaves the room soon after. 

You make your way to the tub, trying to throw a leg over the edge in a very ungraceful manner before a hand is quickly placed on the small of your back, stabilising you as you lower yourself into the water that was at a perfect temperature. You move to take off all your jewellery, realising that you’re still wearing your wedding ring on a chain. Taking off the chain you remove the ring, acutely aware of Vlad’s eyes on you, sliding it onto your finger where it rightly belongs. 

“Are we still technically married?” question thrown thoughtlessly, “If I… you know, died.” growing quiet at the acknowledgement of your death, looking down and frowning to yourself. “Oh of course we are, my darling.” A cool hand tilting your chin back up to deliver you a kiss before pulling your head back some more to wet your hair. “Do not think otherwise.” 

You sit in a calm silence as he gently washes your hair before you decide to address what was really bothering you. “So, you were banished? By who?” He’s quiet for a few moments, the only sound in the room being the gently scraping of his claws as he swirls your hair around. “My father.” he says, voice nothing but a whisper, “after you and I died, I had a vision. The Devil had come to visit me to offer me eternal life, on the one condition that I would have to feast upon the living. I didn’t want it at first, I knew you were already gone, and the thought of living eternally without you was too much to bear, but the Devil told me that I’d be able to get you back if I agreed, so without thinking I made a pact with him.” 

Listening quietly as he rinses your hair and moves onto your body.

“When I awoke, I was in our home, in a pool of my own dried up blood. I saw the wreckage of the room and the rest of the estate and had no other option but to travel back to town. I walked on foot until I reached the Village where I was then met with the frightened looks of all the townspeople. When I arrived at the home of my father he was so disgusted by me and the demon that I had become that he had his men clap me in irons and walk me to a door of which there was no return, banishing me to this castle. I laid weak at the very edge of that bridge for many weeks, hoping that someone would come to let me back through, but when it was obvious that no one was coming, and that I was growing hungrier and weaker, I called upon the Devil once more, and he gave me wings.” 

You turn to look at him when the sound of light sizzling reaches your ears. “Oh, Vlad.” Reaching forward, the water of the tub gently sloshing with your movements, you place your hands on both sides of his face, fingers swiping carefully under his eyes to stop the tears before they can cause anymore damage. You pull his face towards you, placing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes and basking in the comfort of his presence. “I’m so sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling.” Leaning forward to kiss him, you move one hand upwards to push the wayward strand of hair out of his face. His own hands come up to cradle your head, smoothing down over the back of your neck. “You would not imagine how torturous of an existence it was without you.” Voice hoarse and deep, his eyes darting back and forth across your face. “I think I could.” Leaning back up to kiss him once more, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You press your lips impossibly closer against his own, letting a soft noise of content escape your throat, that draws a hum from Vlad in return.

“You don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.” Pulling away and giving him the most sincere look you possibly could. The droplets of water on your back had dried and left you chilled, quickly dunking your body back underneath the surface of the warm water while Vlad reached for a very soft linen, gathering up all your hair and gently patting it dry. “No, no, it’s alright, my darling. After the Devil gave me wings I travelled to feast and rebuild my strength, then I went looking for you. Your body had washed up on a bit of shore quite far down the river, the shore was connected to a small alcove of trees and flowers. I buried you there, along with Agnes, where no one would ever be able to bother you.” He finishes with your hair, moving to grab another linen which he holds out across both arms. You take the initiative and lift yourself up and out of the tub, grabbing onto his shoulder for support as he wraps the soft and plush fabric around you, before helping you out. 

When you reenter the grand bedroom you find that a fire has been lit in the fireplace across from the bed, the flames roaring and flickering, filling the space with a comfortable warmth. You also find, to your shock, that your dress is sitting dry on the edge of the bed, cleaned and looking brand new. “Help me with it?” gesturing your hand to the dress, moving towards it as Vlad does the same, continuing with his story as he laces it up for you. 

“My existence trudged by slowly and painfully for many years after that. Even though I no longer feel emotion the way I once did, I can still feel hints of it, little tuggings of yearning or sorrow. I needed something to fill the loss, and that’s when I found Verona. She was a princess, if you couldn’t tell, she had regality and poise and she was stubborn in a way that reminded me of you. Then Marishka, who was a dancer in a travelling show, and then Aleera, who lived in the Village with Anna.” You raise your eyebrows, even though he can’t see it. “I didn’t realise that Aleera was that young.” a taunting lilt in your voice, remembering that you were only twenty years old when Vlad married you in 1460.

He pulls a little tighter on the strings, causing you to gasp and whip your head around to give him a look that simply says ‘Seriously?’  You open your mouth to say something when your stomach lets out a sound that rivals that of the fire blazing in the room, a heat filling your face as you slightly pucker your lips out of embarrassment. He laughs at this, tying off your dress. “Come, let’s get you something to eat.”

~~~

You spend the next two days relaxing in the company of the Brides, the more time you spend with them the more you come to love them. Marishka is witty, Aleera is a gossip, and Verona is a scholar, and their varying personalities make for a refreshing change throughout the day. You had, however, indulged all the girls in stories of what Vlad was like when he was still alive, the wistful look in all their eyes making it hard to deny them anything. You didn’t leave out a single detail, telling stories that made the girls cry, giggle, and blush, saying things that Vlad would surely deny if he was ever asked about them. 

Vlad had disappeared, to where exactly in the castle, you weren’t sure, but you were fairly certain it had something to do with the Frankenstein Monster and reviving the undead children. Even though the girls could keep you distracted you couldn’t help but have that nagging fear at the back of your mind; Van Helsing was still out there, and he wouldn’t stop until Vlad and the Brides were dead. Gabriel is vindictive and persistent, and you’ve seen what happens to those who test him. You’d expressed these feelings to the Brides, who had immediately began comforting you, the ethereal echoing and cooing bouncing off the stone walls as you were hugged and held while you spilled your every thought to them.

When you’d told them that Gabriel had been bitten by a werewolf, they all grew deadly quiet. The cooing had quickly turned into scared whispers that sent a chill down your spine before Verona quickly jumped up, changed, then flew off, presumably to pass this new information along to Vlad. 

“Vlad can control the wolves though, right?” A look passes between Marishka and Aleera, before the latter turns to you, “Only after their first full moon, before that they pose so much trouble.” “We can be killed by stakes, holy water, and other things, but Vlad is the first of us, our master, and he cannot be killed so easily.” chimes in Marishka before also leaving, quickly following after Verona. “There is only one thing in this world that can kill Dracula.” words spoken softly, timidly, Aleera sliding a hand down your arm before she moves to leave. “Can you guess what it is?”

Yes, you could guess. A werewolf. 

~~~

‘The final battle was beginning. I could feel myself being split in two, the half that was loyal to Anna, Carl, Van Helsing and the Vatican was fighting the half that was loyal to my husband, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera.

You had spent the rest of the night alone, sleep not finding you as you retired back to the bedroom, only to pace back and forth, nerves and nausea tearing at your stomach. It was later on during the witching hour when the door quietly opened, a dark figure making its way inside. “Vlad!” Crying out his name breathlessly, rushing to him to throw your head into his chest and your arms around his waist. His arms immediately find their way around you, pulling you so tight against him that there is no way to move, a gentle kiss pressed against the top of your head. 

He bends his knees, one arm lowering to rest right beneath your butt, hoisting you up effortlessly into his arms before walking over to the bed and laying down with you atop him. Your head lays on his chest, yet the room is absolutely silent. There is no noise beneath your ear, no gentle pulsing of a heartbeat, just hollow silence. The two of you say no words, and truth be told you don’t really think any need be spoken. You both understand what is to come, the battle that is no doubt making its way towards you. Vlad just holds you, a hand atop your head, lithe fingers running through your hair in a soothing manner. You feel yourself drifting to sleep, eyes growing heavy. You can hear him mummering to you in a language long forgotten in your dreary haze, making out a few words here and there. 

Another kiss is placed gently upon your forehead as the heavy covers of the bed are pulled up and over you, protecting you from the bitter cold of the castle. And with that, you sleep.

~~~

When you awake it is to the sound of thunder, and the view of lightning and pouring rain. There’s just the tiniest hint of light filtering through the rain, but the ever-prevalent darkness tells you that it’s almost nighttime, meaning that you’ve woken up just before everyone else. You step out of bed, stretching, before making your way over to the door. As you step out you’re met with the sight of the Dwergi roaming through the halls carrying various tools and papers. They don’t speak to you, they don’t even look at you, they just continue bustling down the hall as if you weren’t even there. You go the opposite direction of the Dwergi and make your way down the flight of stairs that leads to the connecting hall of the castle that will lead you to the wing where Vlad and the girls sleep. 

It’s then that you can hear the frantic blubbering of Igor from the main entrance. “How did you- how did you find… it’s impossible!” Quickly peeking out from around the corner of the door, you’re met with the sight of Igor hanging from the wall, blubbering some more as the person in front of him throws a hand around his neck. 

Van Helsing was here. 

You quickly try to think of a way to get around them so you can warn Vlad that they’re here when a loud shriek fills the entire castle, reverberating off the walls so loudly that you have to cover your ears for a split moment. You can faintly hear Igor, “my master has awakened,” and you take that as your moment to quickly sprint across the hall when the attention of everyone is taken by the Frankenstein Monster. 

You run up the stairs, following your instinct of where Vlad would be. You know that usually when he awakes he goes to the overseeing of the Dwergi working on bringing the children back to life, so you run as fast as you can to the Laboratory. Making your way up the spiral staircase that leads to the top of the tower you’re hit with the strangest sense of Deja Vu, ignoring the pit in your stomach that tells you the last time you went up a staircase like this you died. 

The doors open as you approach them, the Dwergi ever diligent in their appeasement of the masters of this home. You quickly stride across the room, dodging sparks and Dwergi before making your way to Vlad in the middle of the room. “Vlad! Vlad he’s here, Van Helsing is here.” words spoken in a panic, eyes wide open as you gasp for breath. You’re sure he can feel your fear, your heartbeat pounding wildly out of control, the whooshing of blood in your ears making it hard to hear anything else. 

His eyebrows furrow before his facial features morph into one of sheer rage, face partially transforming as he lets out an inhuman screech. Not even a split second later, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera appear before you, awaiting word from Vlad. “If Van Helsing has truly been bitten, they will go for the cure, I want you to go and stop them. Stop them and bring the cure to me.” They disappear as fast as they arrive, flying off in a mixture of shrieks and laughs. 

“And as for you, my darling.” Turning to look at you before you promptly cut him off. “No, I’m staying right here.” He protests, but you shut those down as well. “No, Vlad. You remember what happened the last time Van Helsing broke into our home and we were both apart from one another.” The question was rhetorical, and it seemed to garner the reaction that you wanted, Vlad seeming to be in deep thought. He slowly nods his head, but points back over to the door. “Fine, but you stay over there. Out of the way, you forget that you are still human, my darling.”

You wait anxiously by the door like Vlad told you, watching as lightning strikes and fills the room with an eerie green glow. Throwing your arms over your head for some form of protection as you hear a shout of “Give me life!” echo through the room. “One more bolt and my young will live!” You watch as Vlad suddenly becomes enraged, flying through one of the glass windows of the room. 

Moments later Van Helsing drops through the open tower that leads into the middle of the room, setting a few Dwergi on fire as he bursts through machinery. He stumbles as he stands back up, face twisted in confusion and pain, looking around the room. He spots you by the door, in your dress, covered in jewels with your hair done, looking every bit the part of one of Vlad’s brides. He looks betrayed, and for a moment you feel a sharp pain in your chest, wishing that you could say something to him, but before you could even think of what to say, Vlad drops back down, quietly behind Gabriel, sneaking up on him. 

“You are too late, my friend! My children live!” Vlad exclaims, stalking towards Gabriel, “Then the only way to kill them, is to kill you.” Nodding his head with a loose hand gesture, “Correct.” This causes Gabriel to laugh as he moves in front of the window, “Then so be it!” dropping his coat off as the clock strikes midnight. He transforms into a wolf with each toll of the clock as Vlad gives you a quick look before feigning surprise, maniacally laughing. 

“We are both part of the same great game, Gabriel! But we need not find ourselves on opposite sides of the board!” Quickly changing himself as he and Gabriel begin fighting one another. You duck down quickly next to a barrel as they traverse the whole room, explosions following their movements. 

You watch as Vlad throws a board off of himself, walking towards the middle of the room. “You are being used, Gabriel, as was I, but I escaped, so can you!” Before quickly flying off as Van Helsing jumps for him. You gasp as Vlad is thrown to the ground in a sound of extreme pain, revealing a broken wing. Watching as he jumps up to a platform, before falling, rolling over to his side to reveal that he is covered in blood and scratches. Van Helsing extends his claws before dragging them down a pillar in a threatening manner, jumping up to Vlad.

“Don’t you understand?” Backing away from Van Helsing, there’s a very obvious limp in his gait, causing you to step out from your spot, moving closer to where the two are. “We could be… We could be friends! Partners! Brothers in arms!” trying in vain to get away as Van Helsing catches him by the neck. You scream out his name, moving towards him before an arm is quickly gestured in your way, a sign for you to stay away. 

“Did I mention that it was you who murdered me? It must be such a burden, such a curse, to be the left hand of God.” Quickly appearing behind Van Helsing, “All I want is life, Gabriel. The continuation of my kind.” He throws a look towards you before holding up his hand, ring finger suddenly missing, “And perhaps the return of my ring! Don’t be afraid Gabriel, don’t be afraid. I shall give you back your life, your memory.” 

You miss the rest of what happens as a vial is placed in your hand. Snapping your head around your met with Verona, her vampiric face covered in scratches and bloody marks. “Give it to him, we must finish holding off the monster and the girl.” Flying back off to wherever she came from, you turn around right as Van Helsing jumps across the room, pinning Vlad to a piece of machinery, catching him off guard. 

He struggles to fight him off, Van Helsing's mouth getting closer and closer to Vlads neck. Vlad is using both hands to try and keep the werewolf as far away from him as possible, so giving him the cure is out of the option. 

There’s only one thing that you can do. 

Running across the room you’re able to make it to the pair right as Vlad’s arms give out from the effort of keeping Van Helsing away. He goes in for the finishing move but before he can your shoe scuffs against the floor, gaining his attention. He turns around, growling, pouncing on you without even a second look. You gasp as you’re hit, vaguely registering Vlad scream as you fly through the air with the wolf, quickly sticking the syringe into his side as you hit against a pillar, landing limply on the ground. 

Eyes wide open, but not seeing, slowly clouding over as you breathe your last breath, leaving nothing but a corpse on the floor. 

~~~

“No! What have you done!” words screamed throughout the room, Dracula making an ear-piercing shriek as he made his way across to you, pulling you into his arms, gently cradling your head. Cries of pain and shock are heard throughout the room as Gabriel turns back into himself, dropping to his knees before the dead body of his friend. 

Dracula is muttering words to you that Gabriel can’t understand as the three brides come bursting in through a window, one of them grabbing him by his shoulders and throwing him out the window onto the bridge that connects to the mirror they came through. On the bridge he is met with the sight of Anna, Carl, and the Frankenstein Monster slumped against the reflective surface. He approaches, shaking the shoulders of Anna and Carl to wake them up. Anna awakens first, groggily, “What is it? What happened?” placing her hand atop of Gabriels, the fog of her mind clearing away as she realises that Gabriel is crying. “What is it, Van Helsing, what has happened? Is Dracula dead?” He shakes his head, mummering your name quietly. “What about her? Is she alright?” He makes eye contact with Carl who is now also awake, watching as the realisation hits Carl, lip quivering “She’s dead.” Carl says with a finality, hanging his head and also crying. 

Van Helsing places his hand and quietly murmurs the word that will get the door to open before standing up and limping his way through. 

Damn the Vatican, as far as they’ll know, Dracula was defeated.

~~~

“No! What have you done!” words choked out through his injured throat. He lets out a shriek that will summon his Brides to him, running towards you before swooping to his knees, grabbing you, watching as your limbs remain limp, head flopping on a broken neck. He can feel the tears come, feel them burning tracks through his skin but he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s vaguely aware of Verona riding the room of Van Helsing, before all three of his brides drop sadly next to him, all of them holding onto you. Cries echo throughout the room, his pain is their pain, but their pain is also their own, given all the bonding they had done with you over the past few days. 

He places one hand upon your chest, right over your heart, and that’s when he feels one faint, barely-there swoosh of blood travelling through the organ. 

It’s not too late.

Ducking his head down immediately to latch his teeth onto your neck, draining you of your blood. He holds his arm out, feeling a nail slice down his wrist, not sure who’s but it really doesn’t matter. He holds his hand to your face as he continues to drink your blood, watching his own trickle into your mouth. He pulls away from you, leaning his head towards his shoulder to wipe his mouth off, waiting for the cut on his wrist to heal itself, deeming that enough of his blood had been shared. 

You remain eerily still. Not a twitch of the muscles, a blink of the eye, nothing. “Normally there would be a reaction by now.” words murmured to himself, but are met by the supportive whispers and touches of his Brides. “Oh, my Lord.” Verona speaks, running a gentle hand across his face, “It takes some time, you remember how long it was until it took with Marishka. We waited almost all night.” Marishka murmurs her agreement, remembering the words spoken to her when she had awoken to her new life, ‘We thought you weren’t going to make it.’ But she had made it, and surely you would too. 

“Let's move her to her room, master.” Aleera standing up and moving towards the door, “She will be more comfortable there.” Vlad can’t help but agree, moving his arm that wasn’t cradling your head under your knees and scooping you up, making his way towards the door. He walks quietly through the halls, dropping you gently on the bed before making his way to the bathroom to retrieve a damp linen to wipe the blood off with. When he arrives back in the main suite he notices that his Brides have already removed all your jewels and undressed you, finding a soft shirt that Vlad briefly recognizes as one of his own to take the place of the dress you were wearing. 

He quietly wipes down your shoulder where he bit you, small flakes of dry and crusted blood coming off with ease. He then tosses the linen off to the side and takes a gentle seat next to you on the bed so as to not jostle you around. 

Vlad is a patient man, and vows to sit and wait for as long as you may need. 

~~~

You wake up in the room that belongs to you and Vlad. Sunlight shining in through the large windows, filling the room with tiny fragments of rainbows. You turn your head to the side and gaze upon your husband sleeping peacefully beside you, not being able to help the soft smile that overtakes your face. Leaning back down to place a flurry of kisses along the warm skin of his face, giggling quietly to yourself. 

The quiet romanian muttering as he stretches all his limbs at once alert you to the fact that you have succeeded in waking him up, watching as he cracks one eye open for only a split second before it closes again. “It is far too early, my darling.” His arm comes to pull you back down towards the plush surface of the bed, wrapping you up snug against himself. “Too early? Vlad, it's daytime.” “Still far too early for my taste, and besides, you should be getting all the rest you can.” A finger poking gently at your stomach. “It will be good for you both.” 

You don’t argue, cuddling up to him and placing your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

Wait, Vlad doesn’t have a heartbeat. 

You snap open your eyes, the room is no longer sunny, it’s stormy and reeks of death. You’re covered head to toe in blood and Vlad’s dead body is laying in the centre of the room, hand clutching his chest, a pool of blood surrounding him. 

You spin around, breathing, panicking, turning towards the doorway when a hand of claws snatches you up by the neck; Gabriel. He walks you to the window before throwing you out, you fall, plummeting towards your doom, when all of a sudden you stop.

You stop mid-air, something catching you. Turning your gaze upwards assuming you’d find something holding yourself, something that was preventing you from falling, only to find nothing but clear sky. You hear the gentle whooshing of wings, grey clipping through your line of sight out of your peripheral vision. Frantically looking around, slightly panicked you realise that the wings are yours. Looking down at the rest of you only to be faced with the sight of ashy grey skin, hands lifting up revealing lithe fingers with monstrous claws. 

You don’t panic, no, instead you revel in it. Smiling to yourself as you launch yourself into the sky, wings working furiously to move you higher and higher, and you bask in the feeling of freedom that it brings you. You move up towards the clouds, white filling your vision. 

And then you wake up. 

~~~

You open your eyes, overwhelmed by everything you see. 

It’s as if the whole world has changed, everything is so much more clear than it used to be. You can see everything; the intercrossing of the fabric of the sheets that lay overtop of you, the various colours of the flickering flames in the fireplace across the room, the detail of each individual snowflake that falls in front of the window. Turning your vision to the left, finding Vlad sitting on the edge of the bed facing the wall. 

Moving a hand from where it lays across your chest to place it gently on his arm. He jumps in surprise as you snap him out of whatever melancholic reverie that he was in, head snapping around to gaze at you in pure disbelief and relief. He scoops you up into a sitting position as he pulls your torso against his own in what should have been, quite literally, a bone crushing hug. “I thought it hadn’t worked.” words muffled from where his head lays pressed against the crook of your neck. “You were so still for so long, I… Never, never leave me again, I couldn’t bear it.” 

Pulling your head back slightly, Vlad doing the same, the two of you hold eye contact for a moment, opening your mouth to say something you instantly grimace, closing it back and reaching a hand up to grasp your throat, a searing pain now making itself known, a pain that you recognize as thirst. “Are you hungry?” Nodding your head to him at the same time the door to the room bursts open, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera pouring into the room in a symphony of ethereal echoings and giggles. Aleera is carrying a cup of a viscous red fluid which she then hands over to you. “Perfectly aged, to tide you over until we can get to the village.” 

Taking the contents of the cup with greedy gulps, you find that it doesn’t taste as metallic as you would’ve thought, in fact it’s not metallic at all, it’s actually rather sweet. It helps the pain in your throat enough that you can pretend it’s not there, at least until you get some more. The other four people in the room watching your reaction, and as you tilt the cup all the way to the ceiling to try and get the last dregs from it there’s a deep chuckle from Vlad. 

“Don’t worry, my darling, we’ll leave for the village and then you may sate your thirst.” 

The girls grab you, pulling you up from the bed, once the sheet drops you realise that you’re back in your dress, fully looking the part of your new life. There’s giggling and excitement filling the air, and you can help but practically vibrate in place from the joy that’s coursing through your veins. Once you’re up you all prance out the door and into the hallway. 

Vlad watches on in contentment at the billowing of green, yellow, pink, and blue fabrics through the hallway, the four of you radiating sheer joy and happiness. 

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going, but you follow the girls willingly. They lead you to a large room with dramatic arches on the ceiling, and large, sheer drapes hanging down from various spots. There’s a thick stone coffin with no top lying in the dead centre of the room surrounded by tall candelabras and you assume that it’s Vlad’s, which leads you to wonder where the girls sleep. Across the room there’s a carved out arch that leads to nothing but a solid wall, and you wonder what it’s even there for. When Vlad finally does catch up to you he throws his arms out wide, welcoming all four of you to him. When you’re all together you begin to slide across the floor towards the wall, the second you come into contact with it, you seem to almost melt through it, coming out the other side to a room that you remember being in Castle Frankenstein. 

It’s a portal. 

There’s an open skylight in the room that it leads out into, and when the girls begin to transform you know that’s your exit to the village. They fly up, leaving you and Vlad alone in the room, but hovering over the Castle, flying around in circles until you’re ready to join them. 

You stand awkwardly for a moment, turning to look at Vlad. “Um, how do I, you know,” arm coming up to gesture loosely towards the sky. “There’s really no way to explain it, you don’t think, my darling, you just do it.” Transforming himself, lapels melding into wings before he too, takes flight. 

“Oh yes because that advice is so helpful.” mumbling under your breath even though you know that he can hear you still, nevertheless you try to take his advice, willing yourself to fly, closing your eyes tight and balling up your fists to focus. When you hear cackles of laughter close by you open your eyes back up, realising that you’ve lifted through the skylight and are in-fact flying. Your skin grey to match the wives, equipped with claws and teeth of your own. 

You fly in a few test circles before giving a reassuring nod to them all. Then, you all take off towards the village. As you fly, you notice three horses racing through the mountains out of the corner of your eye, your newfound heightened senses allowing you to see miles ahead of where you used to be able to before. 

Upon one of the horses, is someone in a shaggy brown cloak; Carl. On the second, someone with a head full of curls, bouncing behind them with the movement of the horse; Anna. And on the last, someone who wears a leather coat and a hat, someone who with all his training surely recognises the feeling of the eyes that lay upon him as his head turns to look back, someone who notices that there is one more bat in the air than there used to be, someone who ignores this fact as he turns back around and continues on his way.

And so do you. 

~

Originally posted April 14th, 2023.

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today - March 12th, 1974 - Queen Story!

Interview with Freddie Mercury – NME

by Julie Webb

It was clear for all to see that Queen’s Freddie Mercury wasn’t in the best of health. His hair lacked the recent attention of heated curling tongs; a cold sore was erupting above his upper lip; and horror – seems he’d not been able to summon enough strength to apply Biba black nail polish to more than one hand.

Mercury was worried as the camera lens zoomed in on him. He beseeched us to “touch up the picture to remove the cold sore if you can.”

I know it sounds like we’re setting the guy up, but he takes it all in good heart. Why, last time we met he stated he was “gay as a daffodil” – and here he was, willingly holding a daffodil in hand, outside Buckingham Palace. He posed regally, shirt temporarily coming unhitched from his trousers, revealing a hairy chest.

The British tour sapped most of the Mercury energy. Bedridden with laryngitis when it finished, he had just a few free days to repair any mental or physical damage before Queen joined Mott The Hoople on their two-month tour of America.

He is, in short pretty knackered – and if the American tour seems to be happening too soon after Britain, there’s no way he can change things.

I’d like a couple of weeks off, but you’ve got to push yourself. But we’re at a stage in our careers, my dear, where it’s just got to be done. I shall be resting on my laurels soon…”

He stops, considers the last remark and realises he may have said the wrong thing. Hurriedly he comes in with, “To put it another way, I shall try and reap my profits. I’ve worked my ass off these past few months. I’ve worked till I’ve dropped and after a while you physically can’t do it.”

Didn’t he think the British tour was a bit too busy, what with so many gigs included. “Yes it was a heavy tour, but it put us in a different bracket overnight. It’s a tour we had to do and I think now we’ve done it we can do the next British tour on our own terms, exactly how we like.

“With this tour we were booked in well beforehand at semi-big venues and, by the time we came to doing them, we had the album out, we’d got a bit of TV exposure and everything escalated. I think if we’d waited we could have done all the big venues – it’s just a matter of timing. But I’m glad we did the tour when we did. Even though there was a lot of physical and mental strain – so many things to worry about other than the music.”

A situation not improved by the fact that all members of Queen are, according to Mercury, “very highly strung”. Add to that his admitted bad temper. “I’m very emotional. Whereas before, I was given time to make my decisions, now nearly all of us are so highly strung we just snap. We always argue but I think it’s a healthy sign because we get to the root of the matter and squeeze the best out. But lately so much is happening, it’s escalating so fast that everybody wants to know almost instantly, and I certainly get very temperamental.”

“You’ve got to know where to draw the line. But the public always come first – it’s a corny thing to say but I mean it. Lately I’ve been throwing things around which is very unlike me. I threw a glass at someone the other day. I think I’m going to go mad in a few years time; I’m going to be one of those insane musicians.”

It’s at this point that I begin to wonder about Mercury. On stage he lords it around like some old slag. Offstage, he’s vain, camp – yet a nice enough dude.

He just has an unfortunate way with him during interviews, coming out with quotes and stories that are bound to be misconstrued or lay him wide open to mickey-taking. This could well account for some of the unkind press the band have received.

“I think, to an extent, we are a sitting target because we gained popularity quicker than most bands and we’ve been talked about more than any other band in the last month, so it’s inevitable. Briefly, I’d be the first one to accept fair criticism. I think it would be wrong if all we got were good reviews – but it’s when you get unfair, dishonest reviews where people haven’t done their homework that I get annoyed.” Unlike many British bands, they’ve waited until the time was right and are appearing on the same bill as Mott, who will assuredly pull in large crowds.

So the present and the future seem well assured I enquire about the past – like, what kind of family background does a guy like Mercury have?

“Middle-class. Musicians aren’t social rejects any more. If you mean; Have I got upper class parents who put a lot of money into me? Was I spoilt? – no. My parents were very strict. I wasn’t the only one, I’ve got a sister, I was at boarding school for nine years so I didn’t see my parents that often. That background helped me a lot because it taught me to fend for myself.”

Boarding school… if we are to believe stories that circulate about boarding schools – brutish behaviour, homosexual goings-on – well, the mind positively boggles in Freddie Mercury’s case.

I broach the subject…

“it’s stupid to say there is no such thing in boarding schools. All the things they say about them are more or less true. All the bullying and everything else. I’ve had the odd schoolmaster chasing me. It didn’t shock me because somehow boarding schools… you’re not confronted by it, you are just slowly aware of it. It’s going through life.”

So was he the pretty boy who everyone wanted to lay?

“Funnily enough, yes. Anybody goes through that. I was considered the arch poof.”

So how about being bent?

“You’re a crafty cow. Let’s put it this way, there were times when I was young and green. It’s a thing schoolboys go through. I’ve had my share of schoolboy pranks. I’m not going to elaborate further.”

Oh dear. And just when we were doing so well.

📸 Pic: 1974 - Freddie Mercury posing

[midchelle]

what are all the songs different beatles wrote about the breakup/other beatles/the drama on their solo albums?

Possibly non-exhaustive list, let me know if I'm missing any!

Ringo

Back Off Boogaloo (1972) Ringo says it isn't about Paul. It definitely sounds like it's about someone. He was publically critical of Ram and McCartney, and the song contains the lyrics 'Get yourself together now / And give me something tasty, / Everything you try to do / You know it sure sound wasted!' Hmmm.

Early 1970 (1970) This is probably the least bitter song written about the breakup, which I feel makes sense. While there was that incident with Paul in March 1970, for the most part, he maintained pretty good relations with the other Beatles. Nobody was on the verge of starting a blood feud with Ringo. It's Ringo, folks! Everybody likes Ringo.

George

Wah Wah (1970) The fact that he wrote this directly after leaving the band during the Get Back sessions is really all you need to know.

Isn't It a Pity (1970) Isn't it just? Though he wrote this years before the breakup, it takes on a new meaning after it. Not to crib from the YouTube Beatles man, but the fact that they'd been rejecting this since 1966...

Run Of The Mill (1970) They're calling it 'the head BIC of Paul McCartney diss tracks.'

Sue Me, Sue You Blues (1973)

- most litigious Beatle

Paul

Every Night (1970) And thus began Paul McCartney's string of 'my life is shit but my wife is hot' songs.

Man We Was Lonely (1970) My Life Is Shit But My Wife Is Hot (Part 2)

Too Many People (1971) World, here's my album about how great it is to be heterosexual and live on a farm. The first song is about how my old songwriting partner and his wife suck because I'm not mad and I'm actually laughing. People think this song must be covertly cruel because of how John responded, and the haha you're on heroin line is pretty low, but what nobody takes into account is how it's the equivalent of holding your finger really close to someone's face and saying I'm not touching you! I'm not touching you! Hehe. It's annoying. You want to punch it.

3 Legs (1971) This song is really cutting in the same way Paul thinks signing 'piece of cake' as 'piss off cake' is cutting.

Dear Boy (1971) Paul claims this song is about Linda's ex-husband.

What did this man ever do to you besides divorce Linda, father Heather, AND let you adopt her, all of which were great for you? Where's this coming from?

Dear Friend (1971) Dear Friend and Too Many People being released the same year is pretty funny, but nowhere near as funny as Jealous Guy and How Do you Sleep? being on the same album.

Hon. Mention: well what is that 'we believe that we can't be wrong' bit supposed to mean?

John

I Found Out (1970) I've seen religion from Jesus to Paul. What Paul? Oh, you know, Paul.

God (1970) It's delightfully seventeen-year-old-experiencing-a-breakup-for-the-first-time to rank disbelief in The Beatles over not believing in: the Bible, Jesus Christ, the Bhagavad Gita, John F. Kennedy. And I'm all for it.

How Do You Sleep? (1971) It's her. The sexy, weirdly disjointed song that Went Too Far. Can I be honest? This is so tame. And half the lyrics don't even make sense. The cruelty of this song is in how dismissive and impersonal it is rather than anything to do with the actual words. I like to think of Run Of The Mill/Too Many People/How Do You Sleep? as a matching set because they display the individual worst qualities of the people who made them. Respectively: bitchy, annoying, and mean.

Jealous Guy (1971)

I Know (I Know) (1973) [Insert comparison of opening riff of I Know (I Know) Vs. opening riff of I've Got A Feeling] Nice use of leitmotif, Mr. I-hate-musicals.

[t0ast-ghost]

I’m having a bit of trouble with this episode, I mean it’s S2 episode 15 (Trouble With Tribbles). I promise I can come up with a better opening (edit: I didn’t)

It’s the episode in ds9! But without Jadzia Dax :(

- How can Chekov just sit like that

- Spock is not impressed with Chekov’s joke :((

- HEHEHE

- Kirk is not amused with the space station

- “And that gives him the authority.” Spock leans over and whispers in Kirk’s ear

- “What, what what.” Kirk is what-ing all over the place

- CANADA MENTION LOL (finding out William Shatner is Canadian was a fucking jump scare)

- Kirk is like “if you say Quadrotriticale one more time-”

- the audacity of this bitch <3

- “Does everybody know about this wheat but me?” Kirk is so damn lost

- “Is it alive? Can I hold it?” Uhura that looks like one of those keychain Pom poms. I wanna hold one too.

- “Is that an offer or a joke.” “It’s my offer.” “It’s a joke.” I kinda like whatever these two got going on

- Kirk’s greatest enemy… quadrotriticale

- “Ah, My dear Captain Kirk.” “My dear captain Koloth.” What is Kirk on today?

- Why do they pronounce Klingons like that cling- gones

- Is Koloth played by the same guy as Trelane

- Kirk and Koloth wanna hate fuck so bad

- I love engineering just being crazy into their field, they’re all huge nerds about it and I love them

- Spock petting the tribble in the background

- Spock take a tribble, you need to relax

- “Captain, may I ask where you’ll be?” “Sickbay, with a headache.” Get this man a drink or smt

- I love McCoy getting his own little side quest of figuring out how tf tribbles work

- Don’t you fucking date insult Scotty’s ship! THATS TOO FAR

- I love this conversation between Kirk and Scotty. Kirk just baffled that Scotty threw the first punch. “Is this off the record?” “No, this is not off the record.” I’m giggling throughout this conversation

- Scotty’s so happy about catching up on his technical journals

- McCoy and Spock’s fight in the science room. They only call each other sir when they’re fighting

- Kirk got whoopee cushioned by a tribble

- Imagine your chief medical officer is that pretty and you’re normal about it (he’s not normal about it but just imagine)

- MCCOY SAYS “BISEXUAL”

- Kirk, Spock, and Uhura are so miserable while McCoy has just a single tribble as a fidget toy

- “In my opinion you have taken this entire very important project far too lightly.” “On the contrary, sir— I think this project is very important. It is you I take lightly.” KIRK ON THAT BITCH SHIT

- Kirk: Cyrano Jones— a Klingon agent? *laughs*

Baris: You heard me.

Kirk: I heard you.

Spock: He simply could not believe his ears.

- “You can’t deny he’s distrusted this station!” You cannot deny these nuts!

- Kirk says “Au Revoir”

- Kirk has accepted his tribble fate. Him rising out of the pile. Someone got to just throw tribbles at Kirk

- McCoy comes in with a miraculous solution and then leaves to find another.

- “Mr.Baris, they like you. Well there’s no accounting for taste.”

- McCoy’s explaining the grain was poisoned. McCoy sounds more southern when happy.

- It’s not a passing around of admiration, they’re passing around blame lol. They did something bad

- whispering “you gave them to the klingons?” Oh my goddd

- I love everyone laughing and Spock just making this face

Genuinely loved this episode and was laughing throughout it. I am susceptible to tribbles.

Masterpost

Episode written by David Gerrold

[lordgrimwing]

Friends and Family #09

[for Maedhros and Maglor week, hosted by @maedhrosmaglorweek]

“Everybody,” Maedhros’ voice echoed through the cave. “Be quiet.”

Maglor put a hand over Caranthir’s mouth to muffle his whimpering. Fingon hushed the cousins nearest him, scooping sobbing Utrass up in his arms. Celegorm, bleeding from several scrapes courtesy of tumbling down the cliff the rest of them climbed down, held the old mining helmet aloft and tried to ignite the carbide lamp again. Everyone heard the fruitless clicking of the sparker. 

“We’re going to be fine,” Maedhros continued now that he had their attention. 

Six sets of eyes blinked at him in the dark, waiting. Caranthir sniffled again.

“Uncle Fingolfin knows where we went. If we can’t get out, the adults will come looking for us in a few hours. But–” He said, knowing Celegorm and Turgon opened their mouths to object to waiting for rescue– “we’ll get ourselves out before that happens. We didn’t go very far, and Maglor, Fingon, and I’ve all been down here on our own. Celegorm and Turgon, you two need to help us keep the littluns safe so we all stay together.”

“I’m not little!” Curufin objected. This was quickly followed by a thud as he tripped over something and fell.

“I got him!” Eiliaduin assured everyone.

“Thanks,” Maglor said, reaching out blindly with his free hand until he felt someone’s head.

Aredhel screamed. Everyone flinched.

He grabbed her arm. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Maedhros sighed, long-suffering and already weary. “We’re all going to hold hands and go back the way we came.”

“What about the ledge we came down?” Turgon asked. The darkness did nothing to hide his worry. “I can’t climb back up in the dark.”

“Me neither,” Maglor admitted. He was still horribly short in his mind. Even Fingon was taller than him now, and he was 2 years younger. 

“I’ll help everyone get up,” Maedhros said. “Now, come toward my voice and find a hand to grab.”

With a fair amount of shuffling and bumping and narrowly avoiding falls, they came together. Maglor, Fingon, Turgon, and Celegorm caught hold of the younger cousins’ hands, helping everyone join into a line behind the oldest. Maedhros called off everyone’s name to make sure they were all accounted for, then started shuffling slowly forward.

It was rough at first, but with a little trial and error (and Celegorm telling Caranthir to stop stepping on his feet, which the slightly younger boy insisted he was not doing on purpose) they fell into a rhythm. Maedhros described where they should be at regular intervals, warning when the passage sloped down or up again or the ceiling closed in low enough that they had to crawl awkwardly onward.

Before long—though it felt like an eternity to Maglor, blindly following everyone else from his spot in the back of the line—they arrived in the cavern with the dripping stalactites. Splashing through the shallow pool of mineral-rich water, they found the way forward blocked by a rough wall. 

Maedhros felt his way along the stone, fingers searching for the opening they all slipped through earlier. He found it, a smooth hole at shoulder height, just as he began to worry that he wouldn’t be able to or that he’d accidentally led them into a different part of the cave. Relieved, knowing that it was just a bit further now before they’d see daylight, he said, “We’re almost there everyone. This is the last hard part.”

A cheer went up as they all gathered around him, eager to get out.

“Fingon?” He asked when things quieted down. “You go first and help everyone get reconnected up there. There’s a couple side passages up there, and I don’t want anyone to wander off.”

“Right,” Fingon agreed. “Can someone take Utrass?”

After handing the slightly calmer five-year-old off to Turgon, Maedhros hoisted him up and he scrambled into the mouth of the tunnel. 

“I’m ready,” He said.

Maedhros called for another cousin. 

Soon, Maglor was the last one waiting. He reached out for his brother’s hands. They were rough and strong against his own, confident as they cupped together, forming a step for his muddy foot. Maedhros helped him get up into the trees for years like this when the branches were too high for him to reach on his own. If he was climbing the tree to look for fruits or nuts, he always made sure to find a few extra just for Maedhros. He laughed a little at the bright memory.

“What?” His brother asked.

“I just thought about climbing trees.”

Maedhros chuckled under his breath. A private sound, just for the two of them. “I wish there were plums at the end of this.”

“Aunt Anairë brought lots of jams. Maybe she has plum.” 

In the dark, Maedhros grinned. “We’ll have to ask when we get back.”

With that, he lifted him up.

Maglor climbed over the edge, surprised by the relief he suddenly felt at making it out of the deep dark in the cavern. While it wasn’t much, he could just make out the tracest, tiniest hit of light here. It wasn’t visible from below, but now he could see Fingon’s vague silhouette.

“Come on up, Mae,” His cousin said, gesturing Maglor a few feet up the tunnel so there was plenty of room.  

Maedhros reached over the ledge. There wasn’t anything for him to grab onto, and though he jumped and tried to find a purchase for his feet against the stone, he couldn’t get enough leverage to climb up. He landed in the puddle with a splash and frustrated grunt after every try.

“Is he stuck?” Eiliaduin asked, trying to look back at what was happening from her new spot between Celegorm and Caranthir.

“No,” Maedhros insisted. “I’m not stuck.”

He jumped again.

“Wait,” Maglor said after the inevitable splash. “Grab Fingon and my hands this time.”

“I don’t want to pull you back down,” Maedhros worried.

“You won’t!” Fingon quickly interjected. To Maglor he said, “Sit down and press your feet against the wall.”

When they were wedged tightly into place, they asked him to try one more time. He did, and, grunting and straining, they managed to pull him up. The children clapped and the three of them fell together in a pile of relief and exhaustion. Maedhros hugged them both.

After a moment’s reprieve, they stood up and started the last leg of the journey out of the caves.

[majaloveschris]

So many questions which make things be more weird than before. Maybe I'm delusional too and I can't believe this is the true Chris and I liked this guy and had crush for him during 20 years!! And no Octavia neither? If no strike he should be at TIFF so how did he organised a wedding so quickly and change all the plans for take advantage of this free time for get married this weekend? His DLopez friend who decides to turn public, then private, then public again his account when he didn't before. No Lavorgna? His half sister sharing from another place like her cousin and Kiko but if they were here and are only sharing old stuff for confuse people do they don't have anything more important to do than it and just stay off of social media? So private wedding than 5min after several articles with several details. I don't see sense since 1 year to all this circus.

I get you, and I feel the same way. Somehow, it's so hard for me to comprehend this whole thing. One of the many reasons why I believed this was PR is because I thought there was no way that that guy I've been following for years would want to have a relationship with someone like her (I'm not talking about her age). But how could he marry someone whose hands he didn't even want to hold? Don't even talk about the car kissing picture or the Ghosted premiere, Disney. I can't understand.

I also missed Ocatavia, among the others I've mentioned, and it's also really interesting that, as you said, he should've been at TIFF, so there is no way that after the strike started (July 14), they were able to change the date and everything with it. Why couldn't they stick to the original date? I doubt this was it since the article about PH premiering at TIFF came out on July 24, but I'm 100% sure that they (the director, Chris, Emily) had already known by the time it came out for like months.

As you said, his friend's behavior was also really weird, like this whole private, public, private, public, then private switching was something I couldn't understand.

Her cousin and Kiko were posting in real time, at least according to my app. Maybe I get why Kiko wasn't invited or there, but her cousin and half sister? His Avengers buddies were there, but there wasn't enough room for her side of the family. It makes no sense to me. And her cousin's whole family was with the cousin. I get if they just wanted to invite only close family and friends, but I still think that there are a lot of people missing. 

So they got married on Saturday, and on Sunday, Page Six already had the tea. They are so private!

Whether this is real or not, this whole situation is so messy, just like everybody else involved in it, that I don't think it's going to end well.

[dcextremefan]

The Writer - Gotham Knigths Jason Todd x reader - Part 1

Warning: I'm writting the reader as a female character because it's been a LONG time I don't write self insert, but you guys can consider the reader as gender neutral too. And there is some Arkham references haha :3 Hope you enjoy it :)

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

Living in Gotham City is a mix of a lot of things, it can be fun, but also can be dangerous. Night crimes, gangs and thiefs, but thank God that in Gotham City there are still heroes who are willing to protect us from any danger.

I was sitting down while drinking my coffee at Pauli's Diner (Arkham Knight reference hehehe), writting something on my notebook until the waitress came serving more coffee.

"Thank you, miss Jones" you smiled at the blondie lady

"you're welcome, and please just call me Sharon, sweetie. You come here ever since you were a college student" Sharon served coffee

"times really pass so fast and I'm almost finishing my novel"

"That's why you need more coffee, and by the way, havin' a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Sharon asked with a smirk

"aah Sharon. You know that I feel awkward with these kind of relationships ever since I graduated"

"I know I know, darling. If you need something just call me. Oh, and tell your parents that I said 'hi' too"

The waitress left the table, you just needed some more minutes to finish writting, your novel it's a romance between an important angel with a human who is an apprentice of the most dangerous sorcerer on earth (yeah, it's a reference of my Mortal Kombat OCs account), and they have a chemistry between them even tho their romance is forbidden.

The angel is a hero while the human is seen as a villain by the whole society, you were about to finish your novel until some thugs entered into the diner.

"Everybody! Get down" said one thug

You quickly turned off your notebook and hide in your backpack, everyone including you got down on the ground. The big guy who was holding the gun was searching something, or better, someone. He was kicking the tables until he found you.

"found ya. You know why we are here!" said the tall thug

"I-I don't what you're talking about" you answered while stuttering

"liar. There were rumors about you, you just need to give what we want"

One of the thugs who is a female, spotted your backpack and took off your notebook

"this seems to be so important to you" the female thief said

You tried to grab your notebook back, but tall guy pulled you by your hair

"Let her go" the Red Hood has arrived, "You guys have enough courage to taunt an innocent writter"

"Get him!" the female ordered

The thugs started to fight against the Red Hood, none of them were so as skilled as the vigillante, he dodges all their punches and he used his double guns to shoot at them. He impeds the woman and he got her uncoscious. The Red Hood grabs your notebook and give back to you.

"Thank you, Red Hood" you grab your closed notebook

"you know why they were threating you?" Red Hood asked in a serious tone

"I- I have no idea, I was just minding my own business here writting my novel until these thugs came in"

"you're safe now, be careful when you're writting on your computer outside your home"

"I'll listen to your advice, thanks again, Red Hood"

And with that, the Red Hood flies away with his grappling gun, you grabbed your notebook, put it inside in yout backpack, paid Sharon for the coffee and then left the diner.

At the morning, Jason Todd, the Red Hood that saved (Y/N) last night, was helping Barbara with the breakfast.

"hmm so you saved a writter yesterday" Barbara broke the silence

"what?" Jason lifted his head towards the girl

"c'mon Jason, you saved (Y/N) (L/N) last night, a writter of my favorite romance"

"how do you know that?"

"she posted on her writting blog" Barbara showed her phone to Jason, he saw your writting blog. An official page about your books and updates, sometimes you even write about your everyday routine.

"woah, never knew she is that famous. But I don't get it-" Jason got interrupted by Dick Grayson who came along with Tim Drake

"good morning! Who's my favorite little batsiblings doing?" asked Dick with a playful tone of voice

"haha very funny, Dick" Jason elbowed Dick's arm

"you guys saw the (Y/N)'s writting blog?" asked Tim Drake showing his tablet, he is also a big fan of your romance

"yeah, Jason Todd- oh I mean, the Red Hood saved her at the Pauli's Diner yesterday at night" Barbara grabbed Jason's shoulder

"seriously, I started to get jealous of you. I always wanted her autograph" Tim pouted

Jason continued to cut the bread and his siblings noticed his serious face.

"looks like you're not in the mood today. Are you okay?" Dick asked him

"it's weird that last night instead the thugs rob the Diner, they decided to assault that innocent woman for some reason. Quite weird, right?" Jason said

Dick, Barbara and Tim looked at each other with a suspicious look

"and did she say the reason about why?" Dick asked

"no, all she said is that she was minding her damn business while writting her novel" he responds

"but do you remember what the thugs have said to her before you arrive?" Tim ask

"They said there were rumors about her and she just need to give what they wanted" Jason respond Tim's question

"hmm" Barbara thought for a minute and she went to her computer

"what are you doing?" Jason asked

"I'm trying to locate (Y/N)'s through her phone since she posts a lot by it, and you might investigate what's her business" she responded

"soooo... like a stalker?" Tim asked

"no, Tim. Not like that, but if there are rumors about her, I think it wouldn't hurt for us to investigate" Barbara chuckles

Jason sighs while scratching his head and put his hands on his hips

"alright then. Let's do this"

TO BE CONTINUED!

[beeindaclouds]

Request!

My request is if you can write the dsmp or the members you write for with a famous/known idol!s/o, like what would they do and how they handle their fame like even with them faceless or sumn

(if your not comfortable writing this or don't want to at all, it's completely okay! Don't pressure yourself ty!!)

Hallo, thanks for requesting!

This is like a reverse idol!AU from my Idol!DSMP headcanon hehe

Hope you enjoy <3

DSMP dating an Idol!Reader

Includes: Dream, Georgenotfound, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, Quackity, Karl Jacobs, Wilbur Soot, C!Technoblade

Requests are CLOSED

Reader: GN - They/Them

❝ Dream ❞

He's so proud of you

And likes to remind you everyday of how far you've come and how amazing you are

Man's whole twt account turns into a fanpage for you

Like if you're a singer he reminds everyone to stream your music and retweets pictures of you live

You two definetly collab too!

Or if you're an actress he has like threads about all the roles you've done lol

He's a very supportive boyfriend

❝ Georgenotfound ❞

Ok here me out-

He jokingly uses you for "clout" on tik tok

When in reality he just enjoys doing dumb videos with you

He gets shy whenever you invite him to movie premieres of stuff you've been a part of or just have been invited too

So every picture paparazzi has taken of you two always has you two holding hands cause it's his way of comfort

But he also uses this situation to his advantage to post stories and videos on Instagram lol

Like "On a dare at the VMA's" 😂

❝ Sapnap ❞

Man shoves your relationship in everyones faces

Because everybody needs to know just how much he loves you and how happy he is with you

And also how proud he is of you

Like "Look at my partner, their famous and beautiful and amazing and talented-"

He coud go on for days haha

Whenever you're caught out by paparazzi in his hoodies or hats, he becomes all giddy and happy

Whenever you take a pause from you work, you join his streams

There are many clips of you and Sapnap randomly breaking out in songs during streams

❝ Badboyhalo ❞

Unlike the first three, he's the calmest out of everyone

He doesn't make it a big deal about dating you, but still support's you in his own way

Like playing your music in the background during streams or talking about a movie you've recently been in

Chat will from time to time ask about you and Bad is always happy to say how you are and what you're working on if he's allowed to

I think that your fans found out you two were dating because you started posting pictures of Rat and they quickly realized what was happening

But by then you've been dating for almost a year haha

Oh and you definitely have your part in "Muffin", as a special guest

❝ Quackity ❞

Mans smitten for you

Famous or not, whenever you're brought up he becomes all shy

He doesn't talk much about you, because he likes to keep your relationship private, but he's happy to answer a few questions whenever asked

Or whenever you randomly call him while he's streaming and puts you on speaker just so you can say hi to chat

He'll then mute to talk to you and chat chuckles away at his little happy smiles

❝ Karl Jacobs ❞

Out of all people, your own boyfriend questions how he got so lucky

Cute and talented? W O W.

I'd like to think that you two met at a random premiere he got asked to attend and hit it off from there

And from that day on you two always attended premieres togheter

And oh matching fancy outfits!!!

He's also someone who likes to keep you to himself, but it's ok talking a bit about you two

So fans don't get to see much, but appreciate what they get

❝ Wilbur Soot ❞

If you're a singer, COLLAB!

Lovejoy ft. You

And you both help eachtoher with music and lyrics

But also if you're an actress, he helps you get into the role and repeat your lines

For some reason I think you two start testing the waters during your relationship, and post pictures of like specific stuff about eachother being in the same place as a way of giving a hint

It took a whole month for people to realise that "Oh, they're dating, hold on-"

You two had a few laughs

❝ C!Technoblade ❞

Wether you're royalty or simply famous for one of your talents, Techno never let your fame affect him

Sure, he tried to convice you of not dating him cause he may ruin your image

But you also would never let something like that get inbetween what you felt for the piglin

Eventually everyone found out about you two, but they're too scared to talk about it in a negative way

Who knows what the famous blood god would do to them

I ended up not doing everyone, cause I ran out of ideas, but if you want more then I'll think about making a part 2

[moontheoretist]

How views change with time

I used to be the type of Cullen stan that insisted that he must have not known about the abuses, must have been blindsided by the others or something similar, but the one that still tried to hold him accountable for his bullshit. I still think it could be possible to some extent for him to be blindsided by his subbordinates when it comes to more vicious abuses that happened in Kirkwall. But I also no longer think he needed to be blinsided, considering all the things he says. At the time I tried not to take people who speak like him as people who would not react if situation called for it (i.e protect someone from the abuse) or join in on the abuse itself, but now I'm older and I know that talking like that is a sign that he may avert his eyes when he happens to see something he can't reconcile with his views or will try to rationalize it as something that "is ok and must happen" in order to not challenge his views. I've done the same many times before too. Cullen and me are both easily manipulated into supporting bad things. I am often in awe and a bit jealous of Alistair that he was able to see through a bullshit that I was not able to do for years in my life (in regard to church and misogyny I was taught, and many more bad stuff). Hence why I keep comparing them. Cullen is past me, and Alistair is who I wish I was as a child.

It was naive of me to insist that he must have not known. And even if he didn't know, it doesn't excuse his behavior, his words and actions. That's also why I keep saying that DAI is not Cullen's redemption arc. He didn't redeem himself in that game, no matter how much it insists he did. He only started to redeem himself. If you choose to romance him as a mage or any other class you are helping him in that journey. Heck, you can even participate in it as a friend, but as a lover you can have a clear view of everything that is happening. It's not ideal as you should not rely on your lover in the same way you would on therapist, but alas DA world doesn't have any psychologists so it is what it is.

I believe that people like Cullen need others to realize how wrong and bigoted they were. Because I also needed them. There was a time in my life when I was deaf to any voice of reason, just like Cullen was in previous games. At that time nobody would be able to convince us that we were wrong. But with time we were both given the chance to reflect, change and open ourselves to those voices. There is no point talking to people like us when we are not in the place where we can even listen to reason, but we are also a perfect example that some of those bigoted people you know can be reached later in their life and at that time they will need help to properly sort through their bullshit.

Inquisitor and Leliana are perfect for that role. Sadly Inquisitor is not actually given many opportunities to call Cullen out on his behavior (if they're given any). We can only be quiet and encourage him to quit lyrium and even that is not how it should be, because this is not how you handle an addiction. Quitting is necessary for him, because if he doesn't he will still be under influence. And we know that in DA world lyrium makes Templars not only more receptive to the indoctrination after they become the Templars, but also controls them like dogs on a leash and drives them mad, further strenghtening their bigotry. It's not ideal but i's the only way for Templars to become free of the Chantry's influence. Without doing that it's even harder to convince them that mages are not evil beings that were born sinners and will die in sin. Yet even then we have people like Samson who saw through all of it even though the deck was stacked against him. We can't expect everybody to be like Samson who helped mages even before he was kicked out or Alistair who bailed out the first chance he got, but we can hold them accountable, and if possible try to create places where they can heal and unlearn all the bullshit they were fed all their lives. They need it.