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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

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B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

#book two: sky spoilers #book two: sky #b2:s #tdp spoilers #viren #harrow #rayla #runaan #callum #claudia #soren #lujanne #moonshadow elves #aaravos

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albatris · 3 years

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happy (possibly very late) storyteller Saturday!

does anyone in the rental car cast have any opinions on vampire literature? oh, does the Garble mean that vampire stories as a whole are slightly different?

thank you for the ask!! :D I am very very late responding, whoops

also I'm so sorry this turned into more of a ramble than I've done in months, I swear I did not mean to subject you to this, I'm mortified

ooh, this is an interesting question, and not something I've put too much thought into yet!

in particular, "does the Garble mean that vampire stories as a whole are slightly different?" - I hadn't even considered this and now my brain is doing a whole spiral thing which is fun (genuinely)

I will say on the topic: I hadn't intended for it! the Garble has existed for hmmmm 800 - 1000 years, ish, so in real world terms a lot of vampire lore and literature predates it! but it's quite likely that it has influenced some more modern (relatively speaking) takes on vampirism which could be fun to explore in the story c:

also this has made me think about, like.... the nature of the Garble does mean it began as just a single regular human ("doctors hate him! local dumbass finds one fucked up trick to achieve immortality!"), but the original Garble found a way to outsource its murders to other people while still reaping all the benefits for itself, and grow a whole stupid hivemind system that basically runs itself

whereas perhaps with previous instances of people in the same situation it would all just stay contained in that one person on a much smaller scale, and resulted in a more traditional "undead" vampire existence for that person after a while

so, like, a combination of misunderstanding ordinary human phenomena and a few rare instances of genuine undead vampires would contribute to the existence of vampire lore and vampire literature - then at some point the entire system just fucking FLIPS due to the Garble finding a way of expanding and outsourcing and bringing living humans under its influence, and a Lot Of Them, who as vampires end up markedly different in appearance and behaviour and physiology and vibes to those more traditional undead vamps. unless in very very specific cases (cough Ethel cough)

which might result in, like, a REALLY odd shift in vampire lore at some point, and perhaps an odd shift in the way people represent vampires in literature too

HM. LOTS TO CONSIDER. thank you for making my worldbuilding brain happy ahaha

anyway!!!! opinions on vampire literature!!! sorry it took me so long to get to the first part of your question fdhgjkdfg

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I will give you the opinions of the vampire members of the cast because that's what I'm vibin with. I'm sure Quinn has some Opinions too though lmao

so, I've entertained the possibility of Riley being something of a vampire literature/film/media-in-general buff, mostly just because she finds it entertaining to see all the different takes and twists people have on vampirism :P she's Riley, so she'd have some Strong Opinions for sure. and probably an ever-updating ranked list of which stories are most accurate

for the most part she enjoys vampire fiction, I think! the scary fucked up horror vamps are her faves in a sort of morbid self-deprecating way ("haha hey it's me!")

Alex's opinion on vampire literature is that it's the worst. do NOT ask Alex about vampire literature unless you want to be trapped into hearing an unbearably miserable three hour rant

and like Alex KNOWS it's being petty. but still

it despises ~sexy vampire romances~ the most I think, but to be fair Alex is also aroace so there's multiple reasons for that. but also, yeah, it irks Alex to see vampirism being portrayed as cool and sexy and mysterious in a way that's meant to be appealing and attractive, like. none of this is cool and sexy. this is not cool sexy angst. this is horrible nightmarish surreal angst 24/7 that makes you super depressed and anxious and not want to get out of bed for a week. sexy vampire tropes make Alex super fucking uncomfortable

another sore spot is any vampire literature dealing with like..... themes of morality and humanity and anguish........ like. no, fictional vamps are not allowed to be sexy and fun. but they are EQUALLY not allowed to be miserable and monstrous and full of symbolism. perhaps they are simply Not Allowed

like, moral crises and misery and questions about the nature of humanity are things Alex struggles with on the daily, and seeing vampirism all turned into some big important symbolic moral lesson or just kind of..... woven into some dramatic angsty spectacle for people to fawn over. giving it some Deeper Meaning or revealing some meaningful truths about life or whatever. idk

humans always try to make vampirism into a Whole Big Thing to entertain other humans, be it tragic or symbolic or sexy or whatever else

it's rough, kinda

n like. logical Alex does Get It. bitter jaded petty Alex is like "fuck you. vampirism fucking blows. that's it. end of. stop making a stupid song and dance about it"

on that note, Alex would be fucking furious to learn it itself is, in fact, a vampire in a novel about vampirism

idk about Nat lmao. he canonically has enough vague knowledge of Twilight's terminology that he occasionally feels the need to awkwardly clarify that when he says he's both a vegetarian and a vampire he means this in the "I'm a vampire who makes killer salt and pepper tofu and hasn't had a hamburger since he was fourteen" way and not in the "I'm a vampire that refuses to drink human blood" way. just so there can be no misunderstandings and no unfortunate surprises when he inevitably just fuckin drains a guy like a capri sun

but yeah, neither human nor vampire Nat has ever really been one for reading OR for horror stories, which a lot of vampire literature would count as. he doesn't have a lot of opinions like Riley or Alex do. he's just kind of like "well, books about vampires sure are a thing that exists!"

that being said he DOES have personal beef with any stories portraying vampires as exclusively fancy formal hoity-toity rich folks who live in fuck off giant mansions. he himself is a broke unhinged gremlin of a man who lives in a shitty apartment and works in a petrol station. most of the vampires he knows personally are in similar boats (with varying degrees of gremlinry, of course)

anyway thanks for coming to this behemoth of a ramble! I hope u have a nice day!

#a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears #Alex Does Not Like Being A Vampire #like a lot of vampires don't particularly like being vampires but alex is on a whole other level #alex spends as much time as possible trying to not think about the fact that it's a vampire #so most of its beef probably stems from not really grasping why anyone would want to think about #vampires for fun or leisure lmao #re: vegetarian nat #i mean he does need to like. drink human blood in order to not fucking die. but it does make his morals seem kind of odd #like. nat fuckin straight up violently eats a guy then like an hour later yvonne offers him some beef jerky and he's like #oh no thank you i can't eat that for personal ethical reasons <3 #like i have described a lot of nat's moral compass as like. robbing a bank at gunpoint. stealing a getaway car. then following every #single road rule and speed limit perfectly #like. ok. you do you. but what??

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yanderepuck · 4 years

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The mansion in the 21st century

For the sake of our sanity we are going assume they are all still alive in the 21st century since we don't know when everyone was turned (just that Will was first)

We're also gonna pretend that Sebas is still around(I don't think he'd accept being a vampire???? But for the sake of this he's gonna be here)

Arthur is his full whore self and is with guys and gals. He put the bi in bitch

Leonardo is also bi(historically there's no record of him ever being with a woman)

Imagine the shit posts on social media

Arthur has an Instagram and he posts about everyone's life, even using their names, but no one takes it series

A few times a week Arthur does something called "where is Leonardo sleeping today?"

Vincent uses tiktok for art

Theo has been able to get in contact with more artists all over and be able to sell their art. It's made it a lot easier for him and even though it's a lot more work he enjoys it

Dazai is also a shit poster, only he asks weird things that keep you up at night

But Dazai also publishes short stories. Probs has a blog.

I could also see Dazai basically running an animal shelter in the back yard. He gives off Disney princess vibes. Only it's like ducks, a bunch of birds. A horse or two and some sheep.

Will has probably moved back into the mansion since everything he has done has been forgotten by society.

He finds it odd how kids in schools study is plays and have to analyze it. He's just like "everyone's gay and every other line is a dick joke???" But he still doesn't speak normal.

LEONARDO GOT BACK INTO PAINTING.

Leonardo and Vinc would both have a tik tok and Instagram to show off their work and their hella popular

Isaac wanted to keep a low profile, but since the internet isn't face to face with people, he's able to publish his findings without having to actually deal with society. He's just social awkward okay

Sebastian also has a blog. He calls everyone his roommates and he's like "you'll never guess what my roommate did today"

Arthur collects mugs.

During that Italian hand meme, everyone paid more attention to Leonardo to see how often he does it

He does it too often and he doesn’t realize it

At some point Dazai HAS yelled “DO IT FOR THE VINE”

He was probably yelling at Theo

Want to know whats really dangerous?

Shakespeare learning modern slang

No one in the mansion knows what he’s talking about in the first place. Then suddenly he goes “For never was a story of more woe. O bard Alexa, play us Despacito”(I will not take credit for that. I remember reading that phrase LONG ago)

Isaac says “Me” “Same” and “Mood” a lot

He sees garbage on the ground and goes “It’s me”

Dazai is into anime don’t @ me

Also. Napoleon is also bi as all hell

Drunk or not him and Sebas have made lip contact at least once

Imagine what Mozart could do with music now.

He still loves his piano. Nothing is better than physically playing an instrument

He probs went viral for a hot minute when Arthur posted a video of him playing piano

Comte is even more of a tired mom.

HE’D SO BE A PINTEREST PERSON

You know how people make board for their friends?

He does that with everyone in the mansion

I honestly know nothing about Jean and Napoleon. I’m sorry for their lack of content. Plz add things for them.

Imagine everyone playing Mario Kart

Not every week because they all have lives outside the mansion. But at least once a month they have a game night

None of them are really TV people. They’ll watch movies but that’s about it

They’d all watch documentaries on themselves, and point out everything that is wrong, and even be like “where the fuck did they get that from?”

Because I have watched documentaries on him. Often a Da Vinci documentary will mention was arrest with sleeping with another guy. The rest of the guys are waiting for him to call that bullshit and he’s just sitting there eating popcorn.

Meanwhile Will is in the back like “Eyy! Me too!”

“Did that really happen?”

“What? Me getting arrested? Yeah”

“No, well yes, but did you sleep with another guy?”

“Yeah”

“Was he worth it?”

“I don’t know which one their talking about”

Chaotic bisexuals everywhere

Arthur however has watched the BBC Sherlock series.

Arthur and Dazai would probs watch the most tv out of all of them.

I say this cause Dazai would be into anime and Arthur got hooked on NCIS

Arthur write quite a bit of short stories that he’s gotten published

Will would love that goddamn Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. I hate that movie with a passion

Also, I can’t imagine how many jokes they’ve managed to come up with about Leonardo DiCaprio to Leonardo.

If Arthur and Mozart can stay up for days with coffee, imagine what an energy drink would do to them

All of them in modern fashion???? HOT DAMN

Will likes the Titanic

I see Theo being the one that’s into MARVEL and DC movies

Imagine showing Vinc Bob Ross

Leonardo and Isaac are Tony Stark(Ironman) and Bruce Banner(Hulk)

Everyone in the mansion is into conspiracy theories .

Comte himself is a conspiracy theory

One night Napoleon is like “Guys. Look. Aliens” and they all watch conspiracy theory videos.

It’s the one thing they can all agree on that they have in common

Vinc and Leonardo also enjoy pinterest because of all the art/crafting/diy things they find.

Arthur 100% listens to ebooks

THE MANSION IS A POKEMON GO GYM. But they aren’t all on the same team so battling can get serious some days

They all still have pets

Honestly. At any point in time, not just modern. They made fun of each others accents.

Lets be real. Will would end up liking anime too

SNapchat filters on the guys?? The dog filter on Theo??? Flower crown on Vinc??? Face swapping everyone with everyone???

One of them is bound to have a candle obsession and I want to say its Comte. Only he buys them and doesn’t burn them. Sebas ends up slowly taking candles from the stash and burning them in a few rooms.

The music room smells like chocolate but Mozart can’t find the candle.

Leonardo's room is even more cluttered. He has too many hobbies.

Vinc making his own paint??? I’d love.

Theo and Arthur cried a little when their favorite bar shut down.

Masterlist

#this is a long one but i know its gonna have a second part #there's no way i'm done with the guys in modern day #too many possibilities #also sorry about no Napoleon and Jean #I don't know their personalities at all #I only interacted with NApoleon in isaacs route #and i've never interacted with Jean #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #cybrid #ikemen series #plz add your own hcs #i like to read them

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

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@slythnerd this came through as a submission and I can’t seem to write a little thank you fic to it without it trying to alter your message. You are an absolute sweetheart for sending this in, thank you. I’ll be sure to be passing this sweetness on to others and keep the game going. Meanwhile, I think you’ve been reading and commenting on Crest of the Wave over on AO3 (I really hope it’s you, the name is similar and the icon is the same). So, hopefully, that means you’re enjoying the Eskel/Lambert/Cahir relationship developing there (and don’t worry, Cahir has one more bad chapter then it will be on the up for a little while). Anyway, here’s some idiot boys.

They met at a fancy dress party Jaskier was hosting. Geralt had invited Lambert and Eskel, knowing they’d get a kick out of dressing up. Sure enough, Eskel was there as a domesticated werewolf to Lambert’s cheery vampire. It was fun and silly, they were messing around with Geralt (wrapped in toilet paper and calling himself a mummy) when Eskel’s head whipped to the side as he spotted something.

“Well hello!” His eyes were zeroed in on a dog on a harness who was happily sat by a man talking to Jaskier. “I have to go say hello. That’s a German Shepherd.”

Naturally, Lambert followed too, intrigued. If someone was so fond of his dog he brought him to a party, he couldn’t be a bad person. It was probably exactly what Eskel was thinking too.

“Lambert! Eskel!” Jaskier waved at them. “Come meet Cahir.”

“We just had to, especially as he seems to have such a handsome companion,” Eskel replied and offered his hand to the dog who ignored him.

“Please don’t fuss him,” Cahir asked softly. It seemed a bit rude but Eskel nodded with a small apology.

Despite the odd start, the three of them seemed to really hit it off. To the point that they agreed to meet at Jaskier’s coffee shop for a drink. It was within walking distance for all of them and it was a place they were all familiar with. Plus, Jaskier could act as a chaperone of sorts to keep things going well. Because it wasn’t like Lambert and Eskel were very subtle about their interest in Cahir. But not everyone was keen on the idea of being invited into an existing relationship as a third.

On the day of the coffee date, Lambert and Eskel piled into the coffee shop a little early, keen to make a good impression. It also meant they got to watch as Cahir arrived, a dog in tow. Interestingly, Jaskier didn’t even bat an eyelid at the fact he had a dog in his coffee shop which was something he usually didn’t tolerate. In fact, he seemed to pretend the dog wasn’t even there, scanning Cahir’s bottle of sparkling water without so much as a glance to the dog.

“We were expecting one handsome companion,” Lambert grinned. “You brought a friend.”

“Yes, well-” Cahir shrugged and looked at his dog.

As far as coffee dates went, it was easy and great. Eskel did shoot a few longing looks to Diesel, wishing he could make a fuss. But Diesel was aloof and so well behaved, ignoring everything in the cafe that wasn’t Cahir. Maybe, with time, he would warm up to them. Which was a heady thought, the idea of Eskel wanting more time with Cahir.

That evening, he and Lambert had a lot more talking to do and they were both relieved they still very much wanted the same thing - namely, Cahir. So they made plans for more dates which were dog friendly. So they went to parks, to outdoor exhibitions, wandering around town too. Diesel was there with them, stuck to Cahir’s side. He was so well behaved, he was even allowed in shops which impressed Lambert to no end.

The only odd thing was that Cahir didn’t always call him Diesel, sometimes Dizzy which even sounded like Dezzy. It was weird but neither Lambert or Eskel commented on it, just happy that they were getting along so well. They even invited Cahir back to theirs for dinner from time to time. Even there, Diesel sat by Cahir in his black harness, looking regal but still not giving Lambert or Eskel the time of day. They still had hope that it would change.

They were back at Jaskier’s coffee shop, Geralt sitting by the bistro area and chatting while Lambert, Eskel, Cahir and Diesel were sat in a corner, quietly chatting. Of late, Cahir had looked a little more tired and drawn, more keen to stay local for their dates. Out of the blue, Diesel started whining and barking softly, dragging at Cahir’s arm. He was insistent, tugging until Cahir looked at his dog with a sigh.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said and got up, making his way to the counter, Diesel glued to his side, all attention on Cahir. A quick exchange with Jaskier and Cahir was allowed into the staff room behind the counter, Jaskier following him in. Even more bizarrely, Geralt took up Jaskier’s spot behind the counter to serve customers.

A little while later, Jaskier emerged, giving Geralt’s shoulder a squeeze before approaching Lambert and Eskel.

“Cahir’s not feeling great. I’ve ordered him a taxi. He says he’s really sorry to bail on you like this.”

Which was weird as fuck but there wasn’t much they could do. Cahir’s barely touched water bottle sat on the table, condensation dripping down its side.

“Does he want his drink?” Eskel asked, not know what else to say.

Jaskier picked it up with a tight smile. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

With that, he returned to the staff room, leaving quiet disappointment and confusion in his wake.

The next couple of dates were better, Cahir apologised for the coffee shop incident and assured them he was alright with a “just one of those things” wave of the hand. Then he cancelled another date, saying he wasn’t having a good day. It was worrying, especially when he had been looking a little under the weather before.

“Why don’t you come over?” Cahir had asked them. “I don’t feel like going out but the house is getting too lonely.”

With that, Lambert and Eskel had an address, a date and time. The excitement at seeing Cahir again, especially in the comfort of his own home was great. They knocked on the door in the evening and were surprised when Cahir opened the door looking drawn and greasy.

“Sorry, come on in.” He was in a thick hoodie and comfortable sweatpants, Diesel by his side, looking alert.

“You make Diesel wear a harness at home too?” Lambert asked.

“Denzel.”

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a glance. They had been convinced the dog was called Diesel. Maybe that’s why Cahir shot them odd looks every now and then when they talked about the dog. Stepping in, they gave Cahir a hug and, as much as it pained them, ignored his dog. There was a soft, low bark from within the house and suddenly, there was another German Shepherd bounding in.

“That’s Diesel. You can play with him if you want.”

Jaw dropping, Lambert looked between the two dogs. “You had two all along?”

Now it was Cahir’s turn to stare at them like they didn’t know. “Yes? They need time off too. They can’t work around the clock.”

It seemed there was a whole realm of miscommunication and Eskel sank to his knees to greet Diesel who seemed all too happy at the attention. It was Lambert who finally asked in a small, hesitant voice, “Working?”

Looking between Lambert and Eskel, Cahir looked a little constipated. “You did realise they’re service dogs, right?” The embarrassed silence gave more answers than words could have. “Ah.”

What followed was a rather awkward conversation, including moments of embarrassed giggling.

“Did you not see the bracelet I wear?”

“I thought it was some cool piece of jewelry, was waiting for you to explain its significance.”

And, “What did you think happened at Jaskier’s?”

“My initial thought was an affair. Or that you’d shit yourself.”

The bracelet was pulled off Cahir’s wrist, and passed to Lambert and Eskel to inspect. They read the words on the metal in silence. “Epilepsy?”

That all too familiar shrug was their reply. “I was doing okay then got a new doctor who decided that the meds I take were too strong, given that I’d been coping so well of late. So he changed it. Which is why I’ve not been doing so great.”

Right on cue, Denzel yipped and yowled, nudging Cahir’s hand. With an apologetic glance at the two, Cahir sank down to the floor.

“You might want to go into the kitchen. There’s drinks in the fridge. I’ll come grab you in a minute.”

Not knowing how else to respond, Lambert and Eskel walked into the kitchen. One glance over their shoulder showed Denzel bell crawling closer to Cahir and pressing under his hand until fingers curled into the fur on his neck.

That night, Lambert and Eskel stayed up late when they got back home, reading up all they could. There were a lot of questions they wanted answers to, easily admitting that they knew squat about epilepsy other than what the media at large occasionally depicted it as. It was a steep learning curve, one that wasn’t a one night of research kind of thing.

“You don’t have a bathtub?” Eskel had asked one evening, Cahir lying in his lap.

“Can’t exactly use it. Almost drowned the last time I tried to take a bath.”

The first time they saw Cahir have a fit, it wasn’t as terrifying as anticipated. In fact, Lambert felt quite calm, all things considered, as he sat by Cahir’s back while Diesel was at his front and Eskel had volunteered to get drinks. When he returned, he say quietly with Lambert, shoulders pressed together in silent support. It was the first time they sat with Cahir like this but it most definitely wasn’t going to be the last.

#eskel/lambert/cahir #eskel/lambert #lambskel #Lambert #eskel #Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach #service dogs #tldr: lambert and eskel are dumb while cahir has epilepsy

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

wake me up inside-- vampire!michael

My contribution to the wonderful michael appreciation fic week started by @sadistmichael. This really challenged me with the trope I chose and for writing non-binary reader and I enjoyed every minute of it.

Word count: 2505

Warnings: mentions of blood and blood consumption (in a tasteful manner, ha) but it’s not explicitly acted upon, a human/vampire pining, emotional, hints of sexual tension

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

I have plans for a part 2 so this is just a feel for the storyline, let me know if you’d like part 2! Enjoy :)

• • • •

Michael feels a slight tickle under his nose. Absentmindedly, he uses his long finger to itch the small scratch but his nail is met with the black cottoned fabric perched across the lower half of his face. He rubs his nose anyway, but with a slight irritation that he can’t simply remove the mask.

It’s a new world and in this time period, Vampires are mandated to wear masks to help prevent them from feeding off humans. The smell of blood isn’t as potent but it doesn’t stop the smell entirely. He quite likes the masks if he’s being honest, it adds to his easily acquired edge of the typical vampire-esque persona. Dark, mysterious, and cryptic.

He nods to the other vampires he passes along the sidewalk, their eyes hold the same brightness as his. Human eyes are more of a duller color whereas Vampires are five times as bright. The predators have to lure their prey in somehow.

The constant thuds of passing hearts has become a monotonous drone in his ears, a never ending metronome and a constant reminder that the heart inside his chest is hard as stone. He hasn’t had a pulse in over fifty years, he’s an empty shell with a never ending desire to feel full.

As he’s about to pull out his ear bud to drown out the beating hearts, there’s one that is fluttering like a hummingbird and an overpowering sweet, ambrosial scent filters through the small fibers of his mask. It causes him to drop his ear bud and stumble in his path. A couple of Vampires walking by give him a side eye glance at his behavior; Vampires are never clumsy.

The beating hearts around him slip away, all he’s concentrated on is this one heartbeat, it’s so erratic and flighty he’s curious to what it belongs to. And that smell? His fangs throb with desire as his curiosity gets the best of him and he follows the sound and scent.

He pushes past humans and Vampires alike, ignoring the annoyed and frightened looks as he touches shoulders. The abnormally accelerated heart rate becomes closer and closer until he’s standing outside the door of a small cafe. Michael presses his finger to the door ever so slightly and the aroma nearly makes him keel over. His sea glass eyes zero in on the object of this little hunt of his and it’s you.

You’re sitting at a small table near the back, flipping through the pages of a very large hardcover book. The way your heart was beating confused him. The jagged jumps almost indicated a worrisome health issue, Michael had thought you were about to have a heart attack but here you are, reading a book smelling like the most sinful bouquet of flowers.

Michael doesn’t notice the stares of other patrons in the cafe--he’s the only vampire in here--until the man behind the counter clears their throat.

“C-can I help you?”

Michael is frozen in place for a moment longer, your entire being astounds him and he wants to find out exactly why that is. The surrounding hearts shift back into his ears but yours is engraved in his mind because it’s the loudest and most dominant. He shifts his gaze to the small man behind the counter and Michael moves forward.

“An elderberry tea, please,” Michael orders the first thing off the menu he sees and waves his card over the terminal with ease.

Michael watches the man make the beverage quickly, handing it to him in a pink cup and saucer. He’s impressed the man doesn’t flinch at the ice cold touch of Michael’s fingers. With his attention still on you, he picks a seat that’s a few tables away from yours but you’re still immersed in your book, completely oblivious to all surrounding activities.

For the rest of the afternoon, Michael observes you in a way that’s not noticeable to the human eye. He’s thankful for his heightened senses for that.

He observes the way you touch your lips as you read, your eyes alight with whatever words are on the page. He memorizes the shape of your lips already, the curves and subtle plumpness stirs something in him that he can’t quite place. Michael becomes transfixed by every small action you do, the way you bite your lip, or touch your cheek. Even the way you shake your leg leaves him reeling and guessing what it is that leaves him enthralled.

Time has become null and void to him now but he’s surprised at how fast it’s gone because the next thing he knows, you’re standing up breezing by him. Michael is stunned at your scent, his fangs throb but that other stirring is back. He closes his eyes, concentrating on his breathing.

Leaving his tea untouched, he follows after you quickly but not quick enough because you’re already in your car zooming down the main road. Michael hopes to see you again soon, whoever you may be.

****

A few weeks have gone by and each day, no matter how hard Michael tries to fight it, he finds himself in that small cafe being captivated more and more by you. He wonders what your job is, how you’re constantly here reading with copious amounts of coffee. Michael concludes that must be the source of your racing heart, the caffeine rushes through your body. He’s become so attuned to the sound, he hears it when you’re not even in his vicinity.

One fateful day, he plucks up the courage--again is odd because he could have anyone he wanted with a simple look and smooth lilt of his voice--and introduces himself. It’s a stormy day so all of the tables are filled with occupants seeking solace from the rain.

“Hello, I’m Michael,” he introduces politely, his voice muffled behind his mask. “Everywhere else is full, do you mind?”

You look up at him and he’s waiting to see the fear in your eyes, he’s the only Vampire in here, but it doesn’t come.

“Sure, please,” you indicate with an offered hand to the seat. “Crowded in here, huh?”

You’ve thrown him off again. Human and Vampire interaction are limited, and any type of romantic relationship is vastly frowned upon for the fear of being bitten and sucked dry still hangs amongst the humans. Yet here you are, friendly as ever, treating him as if he weren’t some mythical monster come to fruition.

“More than usual, yeah,” he chuckles. “What are you reading? I’ve seen you with that same book everyday.”

“Oh,” your cheeks are colored red and Michael can smell how delectable your blood is. “I’m an editor and this is one of the books I need to finish.”

“Can you tell me about it? Will it be a New York Times bestseller?”

“If i say so, it will be,” you smile slyly before diving in about the plot.

You both stay in the cafe until close discussing the book and he walks you to your car with a promise of seeing you the next day. Michael smiles behind his mask as your heart skips a beat at the promise.

More weeks go by and Michael finds himself becoming attached to you fairly quickly. You’re still mouthwatering to him, but he’s fallen in love with your mind and quick wit. You question why he buys the elderberry tea but never drinks it. He points to his mask and you frown.

“Between you and me, I wish you could take the masks off. Vampirism isn’t that strange, you have those bars you go to, right?”

Michael squints at you.

“You know about those?” he asks. Blood Bars are where Vampires go to pay for a drink of human blood. There’s blood bags or even the all too willing humans who crave the bite of a Vampire. The whole scene is full of erotic taboo.

“My friend wanted to go for their birthday,” you shrug, and Michael is filled with white hot rage imagining you at a place like that. “But then they got sick so we stayed in instead.”

Michael’s anger subsides as fast as it came. He never wants to imagine you at a place like that, where he knows other Vampires would undoubtedly fight for a bite of your neck.

“That’s good. Don’t ever go to one,” he warns. His slender finger traces the rim of his teacup.

“Have you ever been to one?” you implore leaning forward on the table.

Memories flash in his mind of blood bags and the sexual acts he’s experienced in many of the rooms that are always available. He’s always left satisfied.

“A few times,” he responds cryptically and you snicker at his obvious downplay.

Later on, when he walks you to your car he nudges his fingers against yours. With every nudge he links your fingers together in a completely innocent yet electrifying way. He’s thankful it’s dark out because if anyone were walking behind, you’d look like a completely normal human couple.

You open the door standing against it, staring up at Michael with a question in your eyes he desperately wants to answer. He’s become so attuned to you that your want and his desire is the same. One kiss. You’re caught in his eyes as he leans forward but his mask is an ever annoying presence so he settles his forehead on yours instead.

Your skin is blazing against his own, being this close leaves him even more tempted for a taste, a bite. That new yet familiar stirring is back as he breathes you in, breathes in your excitement and nervousness. It rolls off you with each shaky breath as he lifts his other hand to cup your jaw. He’s left burning and aching for you in a way he’s never felt in his entire existence.

This moment lingers and Michael doesn’t want to break the spell as he caresses your cheek. His desire and your desire ripples to the surface. What he would give to pull you close, crush his lips against yours, but instead he tilts his head so his mouth is by your ear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, kitty,” he purrs in your ear. You visibly shudder.

“Kitty?” you laugh breathlessly.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” he sighs, his voice tickling your ear, “you kill me more and more. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

****

Michael didn’t see you tomorrow because he was in dire need to quench his thirst. He hadn’t realized how far behind he got on his hunting or frequenting the Blood Bars until his best friend, Luke, commented on the dark pallor under his eyes.

On his way to the establishment, he left a note on your windshield explaining his absence but not without sneaking a glance at you in the window. You still left him awestruck by your attractiveness.

At the Blood Bar, he traces the bag in front of him while Luke is flirting with the bar patron, his incisors gleaming in the low light. Michael feels full but he’s empty without being in your presence.

Then, to his horror, he hears your heartbeat and the sweet, sweet aroma of your scent. Michael whips around to find you standing in the doorway with a mask on your face. Michael growls as he’s instantly by your side before you can blink, he’s slipped his mask back on as to try and lessen your potent aroma.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses grabbing your wrist harshly.

“I wanted to see you,” you gasp in shock at his abrupt appearance.

“You shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous.”

“Why?” your voice becomes defiant now and he can see your feeble attempt of trying to break free from his tight hold. “Other humans are here. I wore this so I could fit in.”

“You won’t fit in because you’re too mouthwatering,” he grits through his teeth then lifts you in his arms. He races to the furthest bedroom in the place where he hopes your smell won’t reach others of his kind. He has you pressed against the door, your heart hammers against your chest, eyes wide.

To Michael’s complete shock, you’re laughing. You always leave him dumbfounded, making him guess what it is that always leaves your heart racing. You’re a peculiar human.

“What are you laughing at?” he growls pressing against you, his hands rest on the door on either side of your face.

“You seem so free here, I like it,” you lift your fingertips to pad under his eyes, “you look better.”

“You drive me crazy. Take this ridiculous thing off, let me see you.” he pulls your mask down. He groans at the rose shade of your cheeks, he can sense your arousal and desire and it drives him even more crazy. “There’s my kitty.”

His fingers trickle down your shoulders, brushing over your collarbone and down your chest. He feels the spike of your heart beneath his fingers as he continues down to your hips where he pulls you against his own. This is the most he’s touched you and he never wants to stop, you leave an ever burning scorch on his fingers, he cocks his head to the side.

You’re breathing is erratic at him so freely touching you. You want to grind yourself against him as your arousal becomes more and more apparent and you’re lost in his eyes. Tentatively, you lift your hands to his mask, fingertips brushing the tops of his ice cold cheeks.

“Can I take yours off?” you ask shakily, slipping your fingers under his mask. Michael’s hands slip behind your lower back, he knees your legs apart. A small squeak escapes you at the slightest form of friction from that movement.

He nods and you pull it down slowly. The fabric falls to the floor between you and you’re hypnotized by his beauty. His lips are pink and full surrounded by the softest beard you’ve ever seen. All you want is to kiss those lips, see if they really are that smooth.

“Wow,” you exhale letting your fingers explore his cheeks. “You’re gorgeous.”

“That’s you,” he smiles, eyes dancing before they close as he breathes you in by your fingers. When his eyes open again he inches closer, your fingers knotting in his hair until he’s a breath away from your lips. “Can you do something for me?” his breath blows across your face, it’s such a fresh, cool smell you hold your breath.

��Anything.”

“Say my name,” he whispers.

“Michael.”

Then his lips are on yours, your breath escapes you in a gasp as you feel his kiss shiver through your whole body like a bucket of ice water has dropped on your head. It’s overwhelming, it’s oh so pleasurable. His tongue is controlled over yours, in excitement you grind yourself against his knee and it makes you whimper at finally feeling him on your sex, even if it is just his knee.

“You’re going to be screaming my name.”

• • • •

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#michael clifford writing #michael clifford imagines #vampire!michael #michael writing #michael 2020 #michael fic week #michael clifford #5sos writing #michael vampire au

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spartanguard · 4 years

Text

even death won’t part us now (2/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

rated M | part 1 | AO3 | 3.9k words

A/N: I was going to post this update yesterday but *life*. We really get into the story, though—I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again to @optomisticgirl for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair for her amazing art; and to @kmomof4 and @cssns for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

say what you will about Glee, but Darren Criss’s version of this song is amazing

part two— the air is humming, and something great is coming...

2020

The sun was setting on another day, just like it had for the last 5000-plus. At least, Emma figured the number was up there; she’d stopped counting around day 4,588. Which was really an absurdly long time to count considering her days were no longer numbered, but old habits died hard, even if she never would.

She’d accepted that fact somewhere around day 4,040, which ironically was her 40th birthday. But instead of dealing with gray hairs and wrinkles and aching joints, she was still in her 28-year-old body, fairly spry and with exactly one white hair blended into her blonde. (Not that she could see it in the mirror anymore—or, you know, anything—but she knew it was there and that was all that mattered.)

She knew she’d finally settled into her new life when she was looking forward to drinking the deer blood she had at home and not longing for chocolate cake like she had the past several birthdays. Well, she still wished she could eat it—real food didn’t digest properly anymore—but the blood sounded just as good.

“It probably took me about that long to come to terms with it, too. Longer for your dad,” her mom had told her about the revelation.

That had been another epiphany: that the kindly undead couple she’d somehow ended up on the doorstep of—David and Snow Nolan—were her parents. Her actual birth parents. You know, the ones she’d been looking for her entire mortal life? (Had once dreamed would save her from one shitty foster home after another until she finally gave up hope, and instead turned to counting the days until she moved again?)

As it turned out, they’d been attacked and turned shortly after she’d been born—which apparently had been in a backwoods cottage in Maine that her grandparents had owned—and were taking her to the hospital for checkup after the fact. They didn’t trust themselves to face their new reality while also in charge of an infant (an infant with delicious-smelling blood, no less—creepy, but true) and so finished the journey to the hospital, but left her there alone.

Coming to terms with that had taken 1,187 days. There would have been lots of tears, were any of them able to cry; but instead, there was just a lot of emotion, which Emma had never dealt well with. But she was getting better. Who knew the kind of personal growth one could achieve after death? And it was a good lesson in how to handle (or not handle) things should the son she herself gave up ever manage to track her down.

(She looked—once, before she was turned. All she’d been able to find out was that he ended up in the foster system, too. She just hoped he was having a better time of it than she did. Well, had—he’d be an adult by now, wouldn’t he? Damn.)

So. Anyways. Sunset. Which Emma was watching from the roof of their building, which had become something of a refuge for her over the past 15 years. She had her own bedroom, but after so long on her own, being an adult suddenly under the same roof as her parents (who, despite being physically younger than her, still acted like her parents) was a bit stifling at times.

It wasn’t much, but it was her own space: she’d cobbled together a tent with some reclaimed tarps, filled with gently-used cushions, and on nice nights, would bring out a sleeping bag and let the lights and sounds of the city wash over her. It had been overwhelming at first—she kind of envied that her parents only had to deal with forest smells when they turned, and not the incredible everything of New York—but it had dulled over time, which she probably should have expected; it had only taken her a week or so to get used to the smell the first time, right?

That’s to say—the overwhelmingness did; she learned to tune things out and let them fall to the background. But her senses themselves were the sharpest they’d ever been, consequently making her even better at her job than she’d been pre-death. Having ethereal beauty compared to a mere mortal easily drew in most of her targets; her preternatural sight, hearing, and strength made it pretty simple to track them down and subdue them (she loved it when they ran); and she’d found out they were extra willing to comply with her demands when they were down a bit of blood. (It probably was connected to the whole your-sire-can-control-you thing but it didn’t last once they’d recovered from the blood loss and it kept her from murdering random ne'er-do-wells on the street; the lower a body count a vampire kept, the better.)

On a normal night, she’d be getting ready to catch another skip: either gussying up for a honeytrap, revving up her old Bug for a stakeout, or trying to track them down on Tinder while binging Netflix in the background (they kept up on technology...for the most part; she still wasn’t sure what a TikTok was). One thing a lot of the stories leave out is that it takes a long time to build up the kind of wealth and decadence you see with old vampires; even Emma’s parents still had to work, 40-odd years into this thing (David was an after-hours vet and Snow taught night school) and their townhouse was not rent-controlled.

Of all the vampire media out there, their existence was far more What We Do In The Shadows than Twilight.

(Emma had always preferred comedy anyways.)

God, she was really getting sidetracked tonight. Anyways. No one was working because it was the anniversary of her being turned—her rebirthday, so to speak—and her mom was very much Leslie Knope when it came to anniversaries, but especially this one, given that it marked them finally coming together as a family.

That, and they were all going to get drunk.

“My class is a bunch of assholes this semester—I need this,” Snow had gushed earlier that week, grading papers behind their blackout curtains. (Vampires didn’t sparkle, thank god—at least, not without the help of glitter—but they were dangerously susceptible to sunburns, so the whole pale thing was accurate.) “And David—you’ve worked every weekend the last month; they can definitely operate without you for one night.”

“I put in for it a month ago, dear,” he tutted as he gathered the laundry, placing a kiss on her cheek as he went.

They were definitely one of those nauseatingly cute couples, so it was a good thing Emma’s gag reflex was dormant. And, though she’d never admit it, she was a bit jealous that they’d been able to find—and keep—something that had evaded her her entire mortal life, and likely would for her afterlife, too.

Every now and then, a flash of blue eyes blinked into her vision; the same pair she’d seen on the night she transitioned. She still wasn’t sure they were real, and her parents genuinely knew nothing when she’d asked, so she never did again. The fact that she hadn’t ever seen them again, despite knowing just about all the vampires in this part of town (for better or worse), had her pretty convinced it was a mania-induced hallucination. But damn, was it a good one.

“Emma, are you ready?” Snow’s voice pulled Emma from her daydreams (nightdreams?). “It’s time to go,” she shouted—not loud enough to annoy the neighbors, but enough for Emma to hear.

“Coming,” she replied, then took one last glance at the night sky. Maybe there was something different in the stars? She didn’t know; she just had this feeling that something was going to change tonight.

She brushed her hands down the skirt of her light pink dress; it wasn’t what she’d usually wear, but since this wasn’t her typical honey trap, she’d borrowed a dress from Snow. It was definitely sweeter than her taste, with its pastel color and A-line skirt, but just cut low enough to not be demure. Her high ponytail fell somewhere in between. Her fangs would probably take it in another direction, but it’s not like she was going to pose for photos—she only just showed up in those.

In a moment, she was back in the house, grabbing her purse and joining her parents (who equally straddled the line of sweet and seductive; it was a vampire thing).

Out of nowhere, a flash of light blinded her. “Seriously?” she cursed, blinking away the temporary blindness, only to see her mother holding a Polaroid camera. That was the one thing that could document them; thank god the hipsters over in Greenwich Village had clung to them.

Snow just grinned and shook the picture while David lectured, “It’s not like we got to see you off to prom or anything.”

“Yeah, but are you going to do this every year?”

“Yes,” Snow stated matter-of-factly, smiling at the photo before setting it aside. “Now come on; there’s a bloody mary calling my name.”

“Where are we going?”

“That new underground club at 43rd and 10th. Figured we should try it, and it should be trouble-free.”

‘Trouble’ meaning the Aurum coven. Emma still hadn’t figured out the reason for this centuries-long blood feud, but she did know that she’d been dragged in on the side of Coroza, under a woman named Cora; turns out Walsh had been one of her cronies. And it normally wouldn’t affect her, save for the fact that her parents were turned by someone in Aurum (led by the mysteriously mononymed Gold) and that had dangerous implications, not to mention the rising tensions between the two groups as they began to encroach on each other (and each other’s feeding grounds) on the Upper West Side.

“You sure? That’s awfully close.” 43rd had become an arbitrary border between the two factions, and there had been more than a few skirmishes while people were on the prowl for a midnight snack. She’d had a couple close calls of her own while tracking down skips in the part of town, but had somehow managed to evade notice.

“It’s on our side of the street,” her mom shrugged in response and grabbed her purse.

(Why one side couldn’t just move to another part of town, Emma didn’t know, but she was definitely aware of how stubborn vampires could be. And she wasn’t going to move; there’s no way they’d be able to get a place like this anywhere else for a reasonable price.)

She’d hardly gotten out the door when a familiar scent caught her nose—and not necessarily a welcome one: Graham.

“Uh, hi, Emma,” he stammered, while giving her a shy yet adorable grin.

“Hey,” she answered back, not meeting his eyes—and instead finding Snow’s, who was intently studying the sky. Snow had been trying to get the two of them together for at least 10 years, and while Graham was a great guy, a good friend, and handsome to boot, Emma had never been attracted to him like that. A fact that seemed to keep falling silent on Snow’s ears despite her enhanced hearing.

(His blue eyes were pretty, but they weren’t the pair that kept haunting her.)

Given the sudden awkwardness that settled over the group—because that was apparently something you had to deal with whether you were dead or alive—it was up to Emma to break it. Not that she had any skill in that department.

“Alright, uh, let’s go,” she said with little confidence, and set off towards the club, with the others falling in behind her; Graham stayed close and if she wasn’t mistaken, attempted to put an arm around her, but she walked a bit faster to avoid his reach. The bar was only a few blocks away, which they could normally cover in less than a minute, but they had decided to blend in with the crowd tonight; it was nice to be normal every now and then.

But still—every now and then, the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck rose, and it had nothing to do with Graham’s proximity. Something was coming; she just didn’t know what.

That wasn’t for her to worry about tonight, though. Tonight was for fun and drinks and dancing. And once they got to the darkly-lit club, that’s what she focused on for the next hour or so—

—Until her gaze locked with the blue eyes from her dreams.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Killian took a deep breath as soon as he exited the jetway—and immediately regretted it. He didn’t know why he expected LaGuardia to have changed at all in the past 15 years. Despite all the reconstruction, it still smelled the same: of old coffee, questionable sushi, and stale humans. (The latter was a double-edged sword: despite eating shortly before he got to Heathrow, there had been a few delays before takeoff and he was feeling rather peckish now, although nothing here seemed appetizing. Which was probably something he had in common with mortals at the moment.)

He didn’t know why he’d assumed that he might have been routed through JFK this time—why would he think Gold would care enough to properly welcome home his best operative from abroad after 15 years?—but he tried to push that ire to the back of his mind as he summoned an Uber.

At least the delays meant he landed just as the sun was setting; his previous plan had been to hang around the terminal until dusk, so at least this prevented any awkward encounters with some overtalkative Midwesterner on their way back to Cleveland. Signs pointed him to the ride share lot, and a gentleman named Marco was waiting to take him home.

On the ride into the city, he marveled at how New York always seemed like a living, breathing thing, constantly evolving and changing. He could still sharply remember the dusty bustle of the town more than 200 years ago, the sound of carriages running over dirt and cobbled streets. He’d watched as the city grew, sprawling both across and beyond the Manhattan island and up into the sky, the smell of horses and people and sweat replaced by the acrid stench of exhaust (although, even his extra-sensitive nose had gotten used to it in short order).

So it was both surprising and not to see how much the city had changed even in the last 15 years, most noticeably in the skyline: the Twin Towers were still fresh in everyone’s memory when he’d left, so to see the new One World Trade Center in their place was a bit jarring. But the sun still glinted golden off the skyscrapers the same way; pedestrians still hardly waited for the crossing signals to give the okay to go; and though he wasn’t in a yellow cab, a language barrier still lay between him and his driver.

Cash tips were understandable to all, though, which Killian handed over once they’d arrived at his apartment building on 34th—the Chelsea side. He’d owned his flat since the building was constructed, which was fairly impressive, but did require him to occasionally change the name on the paperwork lest anyone notice anything suspicious.

(Someone had figured out at some point that it was helpful to have an ally in both the Social Security office and the DMV; Archie and Jefferson traded off every 20 years or so in order to help create revolving identities for the members of the vampire community. The name on his ID at the moment was Kyle Johnson, and during the past 100 or so years since he’d been required to have one, he’d also been Killian James, Ian Joseph, and—though he had to admit, he’d picked this one just to see if he could get away with it—James Hook.)

And thankfully, he’d had a reliable roommate for the past 80 years. “Honey, I’m home,” he called out after braving the still-shaky lift to the top floor.

“About bloody time,” Robin called back from the couch. “You know I had dinner ready for you before you left?”

“Ha,” Killian answered. “I’d hate to see what that looks like after all this time.”

“Oh, I let him go. And good thing, too—he ended up writing Hamilton.”

Killian had barely poked his head into his musty bedroom before he returned to the living room. “You didn’t actually have Lin-Manuel Miranda in here, did you?” To most people’s surprise, Killian was a bit of a theater nerd; the West End was great, but he was looking forward to catching up on Broadway again.

“No. But maybe that’s a good strategy if we want to get tickets.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

His stomach grumbled in agreement.

Robin chuckled. “There’s a bottle in the fridge you can have; figured you’d be hungry when you got back.”

Killian tossed his luggage in his room and emerged again. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?”

“Maybe a few times over the past several decades.”

He downed the bottle quickly; the black blood market never gave the best stuff—considering the type of mortals who would be willing to sell their blood for money and didn’t qualify to sell plasma—but it hit the spot in a pinch, and every now and then had something good. This definitely wasn’t, but it sated his thirst long enough to take a shower and wash the airplane off of him.

As he stared at the fogged mirror with nothing looking back at him, rubbing his palm over his permanently well-trimmed scruff, he realized he hadn’t yet checked in with Gold. Even if he’d spent the last decade-plus doing the man’s bidding from abroad, it was still easy to forget about him.

Well, mostly—until he glanced back down at his blunted left wrist. Then it just brought ancient memories to the surface, as fresh as the day they’d happened, no matter how many centuries had intervened.

Which reminded him: he was still missing something. He shot off a quick missive to Gold as he pulled some clothes out of his depressingly dated closet (having left anything more modern in a consignment shop in London), managing to put together something vaguely timeless. But before he dressed, he turned his attention on the nightstand drawer.

He slowly pulled it open, though he knew what would be inside: his hook, as sturdy and sharp as ever, with its well-worn leather brace. Sure, he had a fairly modern prosthetic hand—one that TSA didn’t mind so much—but the hook had come first, and was definitely his preferred artificial appendage. He hadn’t meant to go so long without it, but then again, he hadn’t expected his London assignment to take so long.

(Although, 15 years to him was roughly the same as 2 or 3 to the average mortal.)

Slipping on the soft leather was like greeting an old friend (well, another one, albeit he’d known this one longer than Robin). And snapping in the hook settled a part of him that he hadn’t realized had been adrift all these years. It didn’t fully still the odd sense of anticipation he’d had ever since he landed, but he definitely felt more at ease.

With that settled, he finished dressing and then headed back to the living room and flopped on the sofa next to Robin. “When did we get a new couch?” he asked indignantly, inspecting the unfamiliar upholstery.

“As soon as you left.”

“And what was so wrong with the previous one?”

“It was from the 70s! It was hideous and uncomfortable and you know it.”

Killian could only sigh; Robin was completely right.

“Anyways,” Robin continued. “We’ve plenty of time to argue about furniture but very little to decide what we’re doing tonight.”

“Why? What’s tonight?”

“You arrive back in North America for the first time in a decade and a half and you think that’s not a reason to celebrate?”

“Well, I was in Toronto a few years ago.”

“Still the Commonwealth. Doesn’t count. What do you want to do? There are quite a few people anxious to see you.”

Well that’s good for them, he thought, but he wasn’t so sure of the same. The time away in the UK had definitely made him reconsider some of his connections back here in the States; getting away from the drama with Coroza had made him realize how petty he found it all. Though he’d never be completely extricated given that Gold was his sire, he’d definitely be alright with staying distant from the other frivolous disputes.

(And after spending a bit too much time in Brighton—particularly with some headstones bearing the name Jones and some rather divy taverns that were still somehow open all these centuries later—he wished more than ever to be free of Gold’s influence. Alas.)

He supposed he could placate them for one night, though; it’s not like he was going to sleep anyway. “Are there any new clubs to check out?”

“For you—plenty. For all of us...aye, there’s one that’s just opened up about...10 blocks away? Ish?”

“In which direction?”

“Up, but kind of midtown so it should be in the clear.” Meaning no one from Coroza would be there.

“Sounds fine, then,” he replied; after so many years, every club started to feel the same, but he was willing to give it a shot.

It wasn’t long before he found himself dressed in a waistcoat and slacks that were trendy a decade ago, hoping his hair was styled appropriately (he stopped caring about 130 years ago), and waiting outside the apartment building of Robin’s girlfriend Regina.

“Jones, it’s the 21st century; why do you still have a fish hook on the end of that arm?” she greeted when she emerged from the tower, with a young vampire behind her.

“It’s nice to see you too, Regina,” he tossed back. They’d known each other for well over a couple hundred years and this was just how they communicated. Nodding at the young man, he continued, “Who’s this?”

“This is Henry; he’s new.” The statement was matter-of-fact enough that Killian knew she wouldn’t say anything else. But he seemed friendly, albeit nervous, and Gold never complained about new vampires on their side—just Coroza.

It didn't take much for him to immediately think of Emma. His thoughts had drifted to her more than he cared to admit over the past years, wondering if she’d acclimated or if she’d burned out. It was definitely odd that such a brief encounter had left such a lasting impression, but at the same time, it had taken him well over 250 years to get over his first love; he was a romantic at heart, even if that heart no longer beat.

He of course said nothing about it as they continued on; if no one had discovered what he’d done that night by now, he was content to leave it that way. There were other ways of him finding out if she was still around, such as—

—Such as the green eyes staring at him from the other side of the club, barely a minute after he’d entered it, freezing him in place.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading, friends! let me know if you want/don’t want a tag! @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda

#cs ff #cssns20 #cs vampire au #even death won't part us now #my ff #cssns 2020

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cornholio4 · 4 years

Text

A Different Sort of Field Trip Fic

@cap-is-bi

This was based on a prompt on Tumblr by a user called Cap-Is-Bi and I hope they appreciate this.

It had been about a year since he had all silently cut ties with Tony Stark, he had been excited about getting the new suit and telling his classmates that he had an internship with Tony Stark. Most especially Flash Thompson didn't believe him.

However it all changed within a few weeks when he decided to look into more about the Sokovia Accords, he heard them mentioned on the news and how they were affecting the Avengers somehow. He read more into it and was stunned by what he had read. The Avengers would only be allowed to be deployed and allowed to help in a situation if an UN Accords panel deems it necessary, he could understand the principle of the idea but what if the Panel were too busy debating when the Avengers were urgently needed?

The articles said it was in response to not only Ultron but also the Battle of New York and Washington, were the governments really blaming the Avengers for stopping aliens and fascist terrorists? They talked about Iron Man was leading the support of the Avengers but Captain America went renegade on the Accords after a battle where Iron Man helped lead a squad to apprehend Cap's supporters in a german airport but the failure led to the capture of the culprit behind the bombing at the Accords signing.

Tony jsut said that Cap was going crazy; did he lie to him to take him to another country to apprehend people for just being Heroes?

The article talked about how the Accords affected Superhumans and how they would have to be tracked and registered, any Superhuman causing crimes would be sent to the prison known as the Raft indefinitely. Was Tony going to make him sign and follow orders like a good soldier?

This caused a huge broken pedestal towards Tony and he was still going over it when he felt into a portal. He was shocked to encounter many different Spider people from different Earths so it seemed that the Multiverse was real! Apparently these multi dimension vampires were hunting people with Spider powers so they were banding together to stop them. Most of them were Peter Parkers as well!

He met up with versions of him who looked like his Uncle Ben and the guy from Seabiscuit and a guy looking like his late dad as well as the guy from the Social Network. They were a trio and they could see he was down about something. He explained about the Accords and Tony and others patched in saying the Tony Starks of their world done the same thing; support any Superhuman laws while turning into a near villain himself. They promoted arrests without trials and laws as well as harsh conditions while also hiring super villains to catch them. More often than not the Registration Acts were defeated and Tony suffered. Some worlds reached a compromise but a lot of them had Tony manipulating Peter to support him at first.

Peter was in shock and horror and his rage towards Tony grew, it intensified when a glitch in his suit caused from a fight activated the Instant Kill Mode of the suit. Did Tony really put that into his suit.

He was in fury as when it got too damaged, he began tearing into it but the Peter Parker who looked like his dad said he could have a spare suit of his. After the Inheritors were defeated, they went back to their Earths with Peter wanting to have another adventure like that again.

But for now he would stay close to the ground.

In his new suit he began helping people as he usually did and was happy to address people with cameras. he told his class and Aunt May that he quit the internship due to his fury about something Tony did. They didn't pry too much, Flash still thought it was an excuse but he didn't care and Aunt May was disappointed but knew Peter had to have his reasons.

Peter was more than happy to find, share and like Anti Accords posts and articles. He had began ghosting both Happy Hogan and Tony (mostly Happy though) before blocking their numbers entirely. He focused on his schoolwork, hanging with his friends and being a true friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. He found the alien weapons dealing gang and their leader the guy in the Vulture suit. He managed to stop them but it turned out that he was Liz Allan's dad. She had to move with her mum and he was sad and a bit guilty about her having to go.

They had an amicable last conversation with Liz telling him that she hopes to see him again sometime and she was hoping that he would be her date for the homecoming dance. Poor Liz and her family...

He had to keep moving forward and deal with more stuff he finds. Whenever he saw criminals part of the anti Superhuman terrorist group the Watchdogs, he was more than happy to go at them and destroy their masks. There were footage of him trashing anti Superhuman bigots like the Watchdogs and when there were people with cameras, he was more than happy to give anti Accords words when asked.

He actually met up with Steve Rogers who was in hiding and he was more than happy to share his stories with Peter when he could contact him with the secret number he gave. 'Queens' and 'Brooklyn' as they gave their nicknamed themselves.

At this time support for the Accords were going down thanks to reports of the heroics of Captain America and his team underground, it was theorised they cease to be soon. Especially since Thaddeus Ross the biggest supporter of the Accords in the US Government, got himself suspended from the Accords Panel (which he acted like he ran) and from his position as Secretary of the State. He was expecting to face charges for the dozen squad he sent into countries without asking to try and apprehend Cap and he gotten into big fights with the Secretary of Defense. Ross kept going to his old military allies for help and was acting like he was in charge, the Secretary of Defense kept overruling him and telling that he is supposed to be their representative to the UN and other countries and not running military operations.

Inside anonymous sources he found said that Ross was trying to save face and stop the fall of the Accords but it seemed he burned many bridges with his arrogance.

However at Midtown he was dreading for a while, his class' field trip to Stark Industries. He didn't want to go but Aunt May convinced him to go by saying he could still appreciate the science there and what were the odds that Tony Stark would want to go out of his way to meet a former intern of his.

Peter stayed silent about it but figured that Tony may have forgotten about him, he hopes so and if not then he would probably be too busy as well.

There came the day and his class were on the tour and given their access cards, they got in and Peter was starting to enjoy himself seeing the work of the Stark Industries scientists. There were comments from Flash about Peter used to be an intern here and asking he got fired but he ignored them. When they were allowed to look around a display room Peter then saw through a door Happy Hogan who recognised him and did not look happy.

Peter groaned as Happy walked up to him and whispered "there you are, Tony found out that you would be with your class coming here and asked me to escort you to see him. Do you have any idea of how much trouble you caused? I spent so much time trying to contact you when Tony had been asking me about the reports you sent in and I had to tell him that you hadn't sent anything in a while. You kept ignoring our class and blocked us, Tony was beside himself when he saw that he could no longer track the suit he gave you and to see you in the new suit..." Happy was sternly telling him.

Peter was growing mad when learning that Tony was tracking him using the suit, "If Mr Stark wants to see me then he can come and see me himself. I thought you would have been glad to not have me bother you anymore." Peter whispered to him more harshly than he was intending.

He walked off to continue looking at the displays to Happy's shock as he made a call.

Later the class were stunned and excited to see Tony Stark there but Peter just groaned. "Long time no see Mr Parker, you had been ignoring my class ever since you just quit one day without warning. You think we could have a little talk to renegotiate whatever made you quit?" Tony said to Peter coming up with a big smile and Peter just groaned, the class being stunned by this but Peter just glared.

"Can we make it quick please." Peter said flippantly leaving them stunned as they went out the door. Peter looked up to Tony with a glare as he tried to smile at him.

"Can I first start by saying how are you doing as you caused quite a scare with you ignoring our calls. Plus what happened to the multimillion dollar suit that I gave you? Or where did you get your new digs?" Tony asked trying to look friendly.

"The suit got trashed fighting vampires from another world and another version of me gave me the new suit." Peter replied blandly and Tony gave a face showing that he did not buy the story one bit.

"Okay Mr Smartass can I say about learning how socially active you have been online, apparently you were more than happy to join the Anti Accords groups on social media as well as go after groups such as the Watchdogs. Apparently my advice on staying close to the ground didn't stick." Tony said disapprovingly and Peter scoffed.

"I am sorry that I don't support regulations that blames the Avengers for aliens invading or if there are terrorists about to commit mass murder. Sorry that I don't support regulations that thinks Superhumans should be tracked and thrown away without a key or any hope of seeing a lawyer if they seem like they step out of line. Sorry that I want to stop bad guys who claim they are protecting the country from Superhumans while causing damage and more than happy to invite criminals and former HYDRA thugs." Peter told him bluntly and Tony sighed.

"Peter these issues are more complicated than that and you are too young and immature to be involved in it. I had to work hard to protect you from the Accords people wanting to go after you and wanting you registered and tracked as well..." Tony told him and Peter snapped.

"So I am an exception, I get to be an exception so I can continue being your loyal soldier? Apparently you wanted a soldier and not someone standing up for the little guy. I am glad the Accords are going the way of the dinosaurs and that you can't have me tracked with a suit that you built an instant kill mode into." Peter snapped at him and Tony paused.

"We will have to talk about restarting the 'internship'." Tony said with air quotes but Peter shook his head and scoffed at it. "I am serious, you will have to start playing ball again or else I will tell your Aunt May..." Tony said only to be interrupted.

"I have been meaning to tell her myself but you tell her then I will tell her that the trip you brought me on was jsut so that you could use my as a soldier in a fight I should not have been involved in. That you lied to her and kidnapped me so I could be your weapon to capture Captain America for you, that you had me fighting on the wrong side of a war." Peter replied as he went back through the door.

"Son, come back here right now! You don't get to walk away from this!" Tony shouted shocking the class and Tony blinked, obviously forgotten about the class there in his anger.

"Sorry I don't want to hear anymore of you reprimanding me for speaking out against the Accords online. Telling me off for thinking that people shouldn't be locked up human rights forgotten just for having powers! That you were bullying me for sticking to my morals." Peter shouted faking tears in his eyes, he didn't want Tony to try and spin doctor this on the spot.

Tony sputtered and notices the looks that his class was giving him, Peter was being comforted by Roger Harrington who glared at Tony while saying "Mr Stark, I don't want you to be harassing my student for the rest of the trip. Be rest assured I will be calling his Aunt May about this."

Tony left wondering about what to do about this and Peter knew he would be getting questions from his classmates but he had a victory against Tony and if he tried to go after him as Iron Man, then well he has some special friends...

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rokutouxei · 4 years

Text

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 5 OF 22

It’s not on purpose.

Theo isn’t intentionally testing her determination or anything of that sort. He just can’t wrap his head around her persistence.

He doesn’t purposefully make himself hard to contact to shrug her off. It’s just that he’s not as fond of social media as the next person. Sure, he does have accounts for the biggest names in the industry—Instagram, Facebook, the works—but he doesn’t use them regularly, or posts on them at all. The easiest and more surefire way to contact him, really, is through the usual, plain old messaging app on the phone, or maybe through a call.

(And he’s not so sure about giving her his number so suddenly.)

He doesn’t give the most roundabout answers to Arthur’s questions to keep her hanging. He just doesn’t want Arthur sticking his nose in business that isn’t his to begin with. He doesn’t find any reason to tell his coworker anything about their book exchange, even if—after Arthur’s admission—this entire friendship began with his orchestration.

He’s not doing it on purpose.

He knows how easily this could lead to understandable frustration. Maybe even the vague feeling that maybe he’s only attending their little book exchange sessions at the Grove because she gets Vincent to tell him. Maybe she won’t have the patience for him. Maybe she’ll just drop it.

But she doesn’t.

And that makes it even more confusing.

“Why are you taking this so seriously?” Theo asks one day, after they’ve handed the next week’s books to one another. He’s looking at her with a stern gaze, as if calculating every minuscule twitch on her face.

She only shrugs her shoulders and looks up at him innocently. “I’m having fun, aren’t you?”

As if the extra steps he’s making her take are not wasted time. As if she sees that she’s already slowly melting ice. It’s not that Theo is shunning her—but it’s safer like this, keeping her at a distance. Theo has his own priorities, and all arrows point to Vincent. The least he can do is make sure the books he lends are good; make sure he has the appropriate insight to bring with him. And she, in turn, sends every pass-the-message text (to Arthur, to Vincent), leaves all the notes in between lent and borrowed books, shows up to every meeting with that unbeatable smile on her face.

And in truth, Theo isn’t sure where this is going. Theo isn’t sure what she’s going to do to him, why they’re doing all this. But for now, he’ll just let her keep on doing this. For now.

They just both have a good feeling about it.

There is a certain art of choosing books to recommend to people. There is, of course, the matter of having a certain level of being well-read, as choosing from a hundred books allows more elbow room than choosing from ten.

But she knows better; there is more to it than just that.

If there’s one thing she is absolutely sure about the world, it’s that books—fiction, nonfiction, poetry, name it—all have the ability to bring people elsewhere. It’s magic she wishes she could have in real life. Sneak in between the pages and find yourself transported to an entirely separate timeline of the universe where these things happened. Slip a hand at the center-point and find yourself in a different world, where things are different.

Wouldn’t that be amazing?

But it’s not just about the bringing into, but also the bringing with—what do the books carry with them that will be useful to the reader? Which of its commendable qualities will match the receiver? Is it its storytelling, the way it weaves each character through their growth and journey? Is it the message, the core of it which it carries throughout the text through every plot point that happens? Is it the imagery, the space between the real and the imagined, where the infinite possibilities exist?

This is the tender part. This is the part that feels the most raw.

Romance has never been at the top of her priority list. She’s no newbie to it, but it’s just never been the most important thing in her life. It’s never been on the list at all. Getting into a relationship, the dating scene, being romantically attached to people—she understands the joy of it, she’s definitely dipped her toes into the water, but it isn’t what she wants right now.

She figures choosing books for people is the closest she can get to that feeling for now.

It’s not only Theo, of course—sometimes Arthur asks her for some recommendations too, and sometimes Dazai does, as well. To her it’s nothing more than a way of showing her affection, a little, “I had you in my thoughts,” as she matches a book to its recipient. It becomes more than just another title, not just another author.

She clutches the book Theo’s lent her for the week close to her chest as she crouches in front of her bookshelf to browse her own collection. She thinks, matching their theme to her heart: which book would best suit Theo’s needs? Which things might he benefit from hearing?

Pulls a book out from the shelf and wonders—which one would grace his life with a little bit of stardust?

That week, Theo asked her to “lend me the book you wish everyone would read at least once”—and when she answered with “no, that’s impossible, I can’t lend you 39 books at once?”—he clarified, “the one you’re still coming to terms with.” And that’s a really odd way to describe a book you’d want everyone else to read—Theo himself knew that—but somehow it made perfect sense to her, and the week later she hands him the small bound book.

She had passed onto him Neruda’s Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair.

An interesting choice, really, for that book to have fit under the said category, but Theo’s stopped trying to make sense of the surprises she brings up for him at this point. The book isn’t really lengthy—this particular volume is less than a hundred pages long, and it only took Theo a good hour to go through the contents, even while relishing every word of it. (She does the opposite, speed-running every book as fast as possible, because she “can’t be patient about what happens next”, a concept he cannot understand—“The book is not leaving, why don’t you enjoy what is written?” “I can’t wait! I need to know!”)

It’s not a complicated book.

But it sure has complicated feelings.

So he kind of understands why she had chosen that one.

Theo has a complicated relationship with love. Not that he’s had any sort of traumatizing past relationship or a lingering resentment for an ex, but there was just something about the concept of romance that doesn’t sit…right with him.

It’s not that he doesn’t know what it is, he does. There are books he loves—books he is very thankful for having found in this lifetime. There are food he loves, food that fills his stomach with warmth and makes his heart flutter and makes him feel like maybe world peace is achievable, and it’s in a spoonful of this creamy sugary pancake after all. And most importantly, he loves his brother very much; would like to see Vincent do great things in the future, or, if not that, then at least be happy, and live the life he wants to live—that’s what love is, isn’t it? To enjoy something wholly for what it is, and what it does to you. To want the best for a person.

His problem with love is he doesn’t know what to do with it.

In the same way that he still loves his parents even if they don’t understand why he’d go through such lengths for Vincent. In the same way that he still loves the people who’ve left him behind in the past, friends, old lovers, even when his heart was still pouring. And isn’t that what love is? To love something wholly for what it is, what it does to you, to forgive it of its mistakes and shortcomings?

Even when the cost is yours to bear?

What to do with a love that can live in his heart when the other no longer wants it?

Theo reads Neruda’s poetry book once. And then reads it again. And then reads some of his other books for good measure.

It’s pretty common to find Arthur walking around the campus with his hands in his pockets and the many eyes of adoring (or maybe loathing) girls on him—for all the understandable reasons. Today was a little different though, because he is outside the Arts Building in the late afternoon, reading some sort of a flyer.

“Arthur!”

He hastily keeps the flyer into his bag as she jogs up to him. “Hello, little miss. Nice to see you around.”

“What’re you doing here?” she asks, trying to peep into his bag.

Arthur, instead, pushes himself off the wall that he’d been leaning on, smoothly slipping his arm around hers. Months of friendship had gotten her used to him being touchy; she lets him. “Labor of love. Walk me back to the bookshop?”

She’s not surprised, but she asks anyway. “Are you on your shift?”

“It was an important errand to run, no need to be so incensed,” he says, half-laughing. “Let’s go back before your boyfriend has more than words for me.”

Pinching Arthur’s arm, she quips back: “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Why, that’s exactly what he told me! You know you don’t need to keep it a secret from me.”

“You’re the absolute worst, Arthur.” The two of them fall into an even pace walking down the sidewalk. She relies on the silence to get them there, but there is something about the biting intrigue that snags her. “…What did Theo say?”

Arthur smirks. Openly. “Curious suddenly?”

“He doesn’t exactly talk to me about things like this,” she huffs. “It’s just books and literature with him.”

“That just means you haven’t cracked him.”

She pouts. “You’re not supposed to need to crack people.” She tugs at Arthur’s sleeve, insistent. “C’mon, tell me. He has to have told you something, right?”

Confidently, Arthur says, “Theo tells me everything.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I suppose my information is subpar, then, so why should I—”

“Arthur!”

“Yes, yes, okay,” he says, finally relenting. “He won’t say it to your face, but he really enjoys spending time with you, little bird.”

Her face lights up like a little sun. “Really?”

“Oh, dear. Whatever will he feel, ratting him out like this—”

“Please, we all know you do not care because we are your source of entertainment,” she says, elbowing him. “…I was doubting it, honestly, but that’s a relief.”

“He never stops talking about your book club, actually.”

“No way.”

“Always masked in a complaint, but always about it all the time,” Arthur says, watching the smile grow on her face. “You’re a good influence on him, at least he’s not brooding away in a corner all day long. The customers have enjoyed his new, refreshed presence. All the lovely girls coming in now, what a joy.”

She squeezes his arm as they round the corner. “Why do I feel like this is going exactly according to your plan?” Arthur does not attempt denial.

Theo does not stop asking for poetry books.

Only because he knows that even if she doesn’t voice it out loud, she’d want to lend him poetry books anyway. She, on the other hand, changes genres every week. Poetry, nonfiction, YA fiction, children’s fiction. She jumps from Ariel to A Little Life to The Girl Who drank the Moon to On Earth we Were Briefly Gorgeous. She has so much to say and so much to ask.

It’s just about driven Theo insane.

(It’s a good thing he enjoys her company.)

He won’t admit it, of course, but he shows up anyway. He frowns at every text she sends Vincent but he’s there. Every single Saturday. Reads every stray fast-food receipt note she slips in between the pages of the books she returns. Spends time on the books she lends him.

Ah, what did he get himself into?

Whatever.

Today, he’s brought with him Kerouac’s On the Road because she asked for a book that made him want to go away.

“Why am I not surprised that you brought me a Kerouac?” she asks while taking the book into her hands. She always holds them so gently. “His style is so interesting, though. Is it a shame to admit I’ve only read his poetry?”

“Only a little,” Theo says, but he’s joking because the corner of his lip is curled up ever so gently.

She flips the book to read the summary at the back. “Beat Generation, huh.”

“They wrote about liberation,” Theo says, sounding somehow defensive of his choice of a book. “Gritty and maybe even sloppy writing, but they wrote about freedom. Breaking the norm, finding yourself, facing the reality… doesn’t that fit your criteria of making one want to go away?”

She turns to him curiously. “Have you ever wanted to go away, Theo?”

He doesn’t turn to her. “I’m more the kind of person that stays.”

“Well, being a househusband isn’t bad work,” she comments, to which Theo snorts. “You know, I’ve really found that you have some sort of… classical, helpless romantic kind of aura on you.”

That makes him turn towards her. “What.”

“I mean, the books you’ve lent me—they all have some sort of romantic quality to them, you know? No matter how serious they get. I’m still recovering from A Little Life, you know.” She laughs. “Plus, all you’ve been asking me to lend you is poetry. Have you perhaps changed your mind about poetry?”

He narrows his eyes. “I don’t see how that makes me a romantic.” He sighs. “I didn’t think lowly of poetry, it just wasn’t my priority,” Theo clarifies. “We agreed to let the borrower decide the genre of the book but you’re so insistent on poetry that I’d rather take what you have instead of asking for something else. You’re pretty annoying when you’re insistent.”

She doesn’t deny the fact that she’s always saying about how she already has a poetry book to lend him every week. “I’m not annoying,” she says, pouting. “Geez, Theo, all you need to do is be honest and say you love poetry now and it’s because of me.”

“Is this a cause of yours? Getting people into poetry?”

But then, the banter stops. She falls silent for a moment that feels too long. Theo feels like he has to take back what he says, when, “Yes, something like that,” she says, softly. “They’re like love letters to the universe, I think they’re great.”

“That’s an interesting take.”

She frowns. “Do you not like love letters?”

Theo shrugs. “They’re classical.”

“That’s a non-answer,” she huffs. Holding her palm upward to the sky in a gesture, she says, “I just think they’re neat. It’s like a different experience in every book, every collection. You ever get a feeling that some poems find you, instead of the other way around? Like you were meant to find it at that exact moment?” Theo lightly shakes his head. “Really? Maybe you’ll experience it with some of the stuff I give you.”

He doesn’t know what’s hiding behind that serious expression, that other reason she’s so attached to poetry that she isn’t quite ready to say yet. He can feel it though. He doesn’t have the right to ask yet.

Instead, he raises his eyebrow and says, “You seem awfully confident.”

“I’m planning to make you read hundreds and hundreds of them, so it’s just a matter of numbers,” she says with a grin. “C’mon. Have any of the books I’ve given to you at least had a poem that resonated with you?”

And Theo pauses. Resonated, that’s a heavy word, it carries a lot with it. One could wish what they create would resonate with a lot of its consumers, whether that’s paintings or poetry or philosophies, but it’s not an exact art, and sometimes it’s all just a question of luck. Theo hesitantly shakes his head. “Not that I can think of,” he says. Thinks of the lines he’d copied out of the books to be remembered later. They were good lines, but hardly ones that resonated.

She hums, not sounding too put down by his answer. “Well, that just means we have to keep looking, right? I hope today’s at least gets some emotion in your face, Mister-Statue-Face-With-No-Feelings.”

“Hondje… What did you just call me?”

That day, he gives her his phone number.

She doesn’t know why everyone keeps asking her about it.

Sure, she had a crush on him, but it was really only entirely out of aesthetics. There was no denying he was hot, but he’s rather rough on the edges and has a rather sharp personality to be someone would want a boyfriend out of. Really, at this point, all she wants is to hang out with him and maybe reads some of the books he reads. Again—she doesn’t have space for distractions right now.

But everyone keeps asking her about it. Non-stop.

When she goes to the bookshop and Theo is at the back, Arthur comes up to her and asks her how The Friendship is going—as if it were something more special than just your regular old friendship. Most of the time she doesn’t know what to tell him, because somehow all he ever says to her after hearing about it is a small hmm like the answer didn’t quite fill in what he wanted to hear. Well, Arthur, sucks to be you, but you’re not hearing what you want to hear, she says to herself. Arthur’s a secret sucker for romance, the playboy that he is, and she’s not giving him a show.

But it’s not just Arthur. Vincent, too, asks her regularly. And considering she spends a good amount of time in the café he works at, the questions aren’t exactly that avoidable. She’ll order her drink and a pastry and Vincent will go, “is Theo being nice to you?” or any other variation of that sentence. (Somehow that feels like Vincent knows Theo is just mean in general, and that’s a kind of relief she doesn’t know how to explain. If his brother thinks he’s regularly mean, maybe that’s really just who he is, and also kind of forgivable.) Of course, she can’t exactly tell Vincent that Theo isn’t being nice to her, but oppositely, Theo isn’t really being mean to her either. He’s tolerating her every attempt to annoy him—or really, not annoy him, just hang out with him—and he hasn’t pushed her away exactly, so it must be going alright, right?

Of course, Dazai is curious as well, despite his earlier misgivings with Theo. (Dazai’s had bad experiences with business majors and romance in the past.) He’s not as persistent as Vincent and Arthur, but every chance he gets—say, an offhanded remark about a book or the bookshop, any little topic he feels he can reasonably steer towards the direction of Theo—he does ask. He asks in the way a friend would be curious of a new relationship—it is one, just not romantic, she insists—all full of worries for said friend. She appreciates this in many ways, because she knows Dazai can give her advice that will be very valuable to her. Still—the attention the thing pulls is kind of ridiculous, to her.

It doesn’t end with Dazai though, and at this point, it’s just going to be a long laundry list of people who are looking for gossip between her and Theo when—there really isn’t any. Despite being a literature major, she’s actually part of the campus’ local astronomy club, because why not? Stars are neat and she can’t quite catch up with the rest of the astrophysics majors that is actually with her, but the stargazing with the telescopes definitely makes it worth it. It’s just that Dazai is friends with their club head for a reason or another—a graduate student in astrophysics, Isaac Newton, and when Dazai knows there really isn’t any much harm, he runs his mouth, so—Isaac’s asked her at least once about Theo as well. Luckily Isaac is more on the awkward side—and they really aren’t that close quite yet, club aside—so he asks once, sees her reaction of despair and exhaustion, and never asks again.

She wonders if Theo gets the same barrage of questions as she does. From Arthur, for sure, but—Theo doesn’t exactly talk about other friends of his. Maybe they just haven’t gotten close enough for him to bring them up. Besides, whether or not people ask him about them or not, he’s sure that he already knows about the little crush—he’s just playing at it. Playing for what, she doesn’t know, and somehow, she’s fine with that.

That was all it was ever meant to be, anyway—a passing crush, a nice face, a sight for sore eyes, something to fall back on to refresh herself after long days of pushing her mind to the limit, working herself to exhaustion.

He was meant to be a breather, not a distraction.

To be friends is more than enough.

She screams into a pillow and grins.

#the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

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crystalwillow · 4 years

Text

Against All Odds, Part One

Pairing: James Whitmore x Lillie Jones

From: The Vampire Ball series on the Love Sick mobile interactive game app

Characters Backgrounds: James Whitmore is a magic professor at the prestigious Karnsein University, a school for the upper caste members of society. But they aren’t just ordinary upper caste members, they are vampires and witchers. Lillie Jones is an ordinary human, a lower caste member of society and works a normal mundane 9-5 job to help the man she believes to be her biological father pay the bills to keep the lights on, and her mothers medical bills to help her get the best care that can be given. When her mother sadly passes away she receives an invitation to Karnstein and as much as she tries to ignore it, she has no choice but to enroll. There she becomes the main target of a host of attacks from a mysterious Masked Man. Very soon after meeting James Whitmore she feels some kind of attraction to him. When the two venture away from the university to a town full of werewolves to fix their totem which helps them with their transitioning, James and Lillie discover they feel so connected because of a magical bond put on some ancestors many years ago, but Lillie’s ancestor wished not to marry James’ ancestor so now the magical bond sits in their bloodlines, waiting to be acted upon.

What this is: This is an AU of the story where I’ve taken out the magic that James has in being a witcher, and put the two characters in a more modern and accepting setting. James is not a professor, but an influencer, just like Lillie is in this AU. I know it’s not Choices, but I need to take a break from writing so full on for Choices characters until I’m ready to continue on with my AU’s (3 out of 4 of which are Ethan Ramsey), and just write for other pairing I like from similar apps to Choices. I will make a separate subsection for them in my masterlist so if you enjoy them you can find them at any time

Word count: 5.5K

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It had been two years since Lillie Jones had taken the dive into the deep end of life and brought the camera she had been saving for during the entirety of her teenage years hit record, then edited that video and posted it on social media. She hadn’t expected her first ever video to go anywhere far, so when it went semi-viral and she was getting calls from radio stations and offers to appear on national TV daytime shows, it was a lot for her to process. But now, it was as if it were second nature for her, she had a wedge of experience under her belt and was happy she had taken the dive. She was currently in the back of a taxi making her way into the heart of New York for an interview with a well esteemed magazine. But it wasn’t a solo interview this time, there was going to be another social media influencer there. After many minutes of car horns honking, and being jolted about like a salad being tossed in vinaigrette, Lillie paid her taxi driver and collected her things, heading inside the building with a pep in her step. Once she was inside she was greeted cheerfully by the staff upon arrival and escorted to her dressing room backstage to get ready. After about an hour of being there she was called onto set but stopped in her tracks behind the cameras as she stared at a gorgeous man with free flowing short brown locks of hair and a smile so white, she could have sworn it was visible from space.

“Miss Jones?” A voice said next to her bringing her back to the present moment.

“Who’s that?” she asked the lady standing next to her in a hushed tone.

“That’s James Whitmore. Our other interviewee for this take.”

“You mean… I’m being interviewed, alongside… him.”

Lillie started to internally panic and turned on her heel running out of the room and into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind her. She had never been good around men she found attractive. She always managed to put her foot in her mouth, stutter too much and just make a complete fool of herself. It was the main reason she’s single, not that she could complain, she had her 2 pomeranians, Jasper and Rose to keep her company. And in the bedroom she had become such an expert at pleasing herself, she was convinced nobody else could learn so she just shrugged it off and didn’t even bother looking for love.

“Miss Jones, we need to start this interview to stay on schedule.” the same voice from before filtered through the door.

“Uh, it’s okay. Go ahead and interview James without me. I’m feeling a little queasy.” Lillie called back as she turned the cold tap on, wetting her hand before splashing the little droplets from the end of her fingers onto her face.

“What’s going on?” a muffled male voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Mr. Whitmore! Ah, n-nothing major. Miss Jones is just feeling a little sick. We’ll commence the interview in just a moment.”

“Miss… Lillie Jones. Correct.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry, just give me two mi-”

“Not necessary. Let me speak to her.”

Lillie swallowed harshly as there was shuffling outside the door, not only was she hiding from this man to avoid making a fool of herself. The hiding had turned into the very thing that was making her a fool. She jumped as a sharp knock rapped at the door.

“Miss Jones. Or Lillie. Can I call you that.” James asked and waited for an answer.

“L-Lillie is f-fine.” she stuttered back.

“Are you going to open the door so we can speak face to face?”

“No.” she squeaked out quicker than she probably should have done.

James gave a low, rich chuckle from the other side of the door. “It’s the looks right?”

Fuck. How did he know? Did he clock her staring but she just didn’t notice?

“Look it’s okay. I’d be nervous around me too. In fact, I am… nervous around myself.” he admitted openly.

Lillie stared at her reflection for a few more seconds before unlocking the door and opening it a crack. James sighed and asked to be excused and not followed for a moment before slipping inside the bathroom and shutting the door. Inside her found Lillie looking at herself in the mirror as she played with her hair, trying to position it right.

James stopped in his tracks as and watched her.

“Wow.” he gasped quietly.

Lillie froze. “What?”

“You- You’re even more beautiful in person. I-” James blushed furious at the realisation of what he had said as Lillie made eye contact with him in the mirror and cocked a brow at him. “I um… follow you.” he said, clearing his throat.

A small amused smile graced Lillie’s features and she suddenly didn’t feel so awkward anymore. “You. follow me?” she asked.

“I do.” James admitted.

“Wow. and here I am not even knowing who you are.” she chuckled as James faked being offended.

“I know my looks are… intimidating.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“But. Don’t let them turn you into every other girl I’ve met. Because at heart. I’m a nice guy.”

“Every other girl?”

“Running from me because I come across as a self centered jerk.”

“That’s not why I ran.”

“Then why did you? … Run that is.”

“Because… Because I got a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time and it’s terrifying.”

“Is running from that feeling and hiding because you’re scared the best thing to do?”

“Yes. No. Maybe… I… No. No, it’s… it’s not.”

James chuckled that low, rich chuckle again and it sounded so much better not filtered by a door that Lillie found herself squeezing her thighs together as she softly bit her lip, looking at him. James caught her looking and she looked away with a furious blush.

“Now. if you’ve finished hiding. I believe we have an interview to do?”

“I…. guess we do.” Lillie smiled. “Sorry for freaking out and making you run late.”

“It’s fine. I only have leisure time planned after this until The Met Gala tonight.”

“You’re going to that?!”

“I am. Don’t tell me that a pretty face like you wasn’t invited.”

“Of course I was. If you watch me, you’d know. Now unless that was a lie…”

The two laughed as they walked back on set and had microphones attached to them. The next hour passed smoothly with the energy between James and Lillie, light and playful as they did an interview for the magazine and filmed a Q&A video for the magazine’s YouTube channel. After returning the mics and gathering their belongings, The two headed outside, closely followed by their managers and waited on the sidewalk for their cars to collect them.

“So uh… Lillie?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I… get your number?” James asked as he shyly held his phone between them.

Lillie gave a smile and took his phone entering her number. “Let me guess. You’re going to get a picture of me off line and add it through edit later.”

“Actually… I was going to ask if we could take one together.”

“Now?”

“If you’re not opposed to it, that is.”

“Of course not. We can take a picture.”

“Awesome! Could you take it?!”

Lillie laughed “Tell me when you’re ready.”

James eagerly positioned himself behind Lillie. “Is it cool if I kiss your cheek?”

“I… sure!”

James lightly pressed his lips to Lillie’s cheek and she smiled as she took the photo.

“There.” she smiled, handing James his phone back.

“Thanks. You’re awesome.” James grinned as their hands grazed against each other.

It was clear there was a spark between these two, the energy on the part of the street they were on was so strong they hadn’t realised their cars had arrived. Until they heard their names being shouted. They pulled apart and shook their heads as if breaking a spell and both flushed bright pink.

“So I’ll um.. Hear from you soon?” Lillie asked as she stopped at the door of her car.

“Yeah. Real soon hopefully.” James smiled back, then the two headed off in opposite directions to get ready for The Met Gala later that night.

Around 8pm that evening Lillie’s phone rang with an unknown number and she answered putting it on speaker as she got her hair and makeup done.

“Hello?” she said

“Lillie! It’s James.”

“James, hey! You’re on speaker phone by the way. I’m having my hair and makeup done.”

“Ha, no sweat. You are too. I’m having last minute alterations made to my suit.”

The two spoke up until the moment they had to leave and make their way to the event and when she arrived, Lillie smiled brightly as she waved to the camera’s and people gathered around the event. She made her way along the red carpet and stopped for interviews and for the press to take their pictures. She was in the middle of posing for pictures when she heard her name being called from her left, but she remained professional and focused until she was let go and turned to find the source of her name being called when she spotted James waving at her.

“Hi!”

“James, hey!”

“Twice in one day huh?”

“Small world.”

They looked at each other before bursting out in a fit of laughter. James took in Lillie’s appearance once they had stopped laughing and whistled lowly.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” He complemented

“Thank you! You’re looking quite dapper yourself.” Lillie smiled.

Once they had finished outside and were in the building where they had a little more privacy, the two wandered around together in deep conversation until James was called away to talk with some very powerful looking people and she was left to her own devices. She mingled throughout the night by herself but at some point snuck outside for some fresh air as she started to feel faint from how hot it was inside. James excused himself from his conversation and quietly followed her, concern filling his chest. Lillie found a bench nearby and sat on it, heaving in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. James sat next to her and stared ahead, waiting to see if she would speak, but when she didn’t he took it upon himself to do so.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to her with a concerned brow raised.

“Yeah. Just… getting a bit stuffy in there. I needed some air.” Lillie explained with a small smile.

“You sure?” James asked

“Yeah.”

The two sat in companionable silence before James spoke up again.

“Lillie?”

“James.”

He chuckled a little at her beaming face. “What’s it like to kiss you?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry it was… a stupid question. I should-”

“James, wait.” Lillie grabbed his arm spinning him back around and closer to her so their chests almost touched. “Why don’t you find out? I mean… I’m right here aren’t I?”

“Are you giving me permission to..?”

“Yes. James, I am.” She whispered with a smile.

Suddenly, nerves were all James could feel alongside his heart hammering in his chest. This was it, he was finally in a moment where he could kiss his year and a half long internet crush. He couldn’t fuck it up. His eyes felt heavy as they closed slowly whilst his lips connected to Lillie’s. His mind and stomach simultaneously bursting with joy and doing metaphorical backflips. Her lips were even softer than he imagined and dreamt of, they tasted of his favourite snack, salted caramel popcorn and it mixed perfectly with the small traces of wine left on her tongue. He was so absorbed into the moment he hadn’t noticed a few cameras flashing around them until he pulled away and softly opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto Lillie’s bright emerald orbs gazing up at him and the smile on her face. He felt giddy and like he was back in school again, sneaking off from a party to kiss the pretty girl he had a crush on. Except this time, he knew it was a serious crush because if this woman walked away and he never saw her in person again his heart would shatter.

“Wow.” He sighed and a small smile, his hand naturally connecting to Lillie’s cheek and brushing a stray strand of hair away.

“Did I meet your expectations?”

“You surpassed them by a long shot.”

Lillie giggled and the voices of the shouting press and other media outlets filtered through.

“James how long has this romance been going on?!”

“When did you two meet!”

“Does this mean you’re no longer single Mr. Whitmore!?”

“Lillie Jones. Are you only going after him because of money!”

Lillie stopped in her tracks, the look in her eyes scared James so much he took a step back as Lillie turn towards the reporter.

“Excuse. Me.” She asked through gritted teeth.

“Well James Whitmore has been in this game longer and has more money at this point. Is this a money motive love?”

“One. I don’t think it’s any of your business or your right to ask such insensitive questions. Two. If you’re even having to ask that question you clearly haven’t researched me well enough to know that I don’t need to chase romance for money motives because I’m sitting on a healthy 6 figure bank balance from all that I do from modelling to YouTube to 8 days a month I work at my local animal shelter! So… Maria. I suggest if you want to keep your job, you think before asking such insensitive things. Because next time you might not ask someone who is as nice as I am and willing to let you go with only a warning to NEVER ask me something like that ever again.”

The rest of the press diverted their attention away from the situation as Lillie stepped back from Maria and back over to James.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” James said and Lillie giggled as they headed back inside the gala.

The rest of the night went by smoothly and Lillie and James once again bid each other farewell outside and headed in separate directions.

The next morning greeted Lillie in the afternoon as she awoke with a hangover and a bunch of missed calls and texts from people. Groaning she trudged to her kitchen and took out a ginger juice shot and backed it in one, wincing at the spiciness, before turning around and heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Once she had taken care of that, she grabbed her phone and placed an order for food and watched the TV as she waited for her order. She stared at the screen and zoned out the the point where when her doorbell rang it scared the living daylights out of her. She rushed to answer it, however when she opened the door, it wasn’t her food delivery that greeted her, but a concerned looking James.

“Oh James! How did you-”

“Get your address?”

“Yeah.”

“I bugged your manager until he gave in.”

Lillie groaned. “Now he’s gonna hate me and keep going on about it at our meeting across town tomorrow.”

“Sorry. But you weren’t answering your phone. I thought maybe it was off because of the tabloids.”

“The tabloids?”

“Have you not seen yet?”

“I’ve literally just turned my TV on and put it straight onto netflix.”

James winced.

“What?” Lillie asked curiously.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Lillie moved aside letting James in and closed the door behind him. “The living room is this way.” she said walking forwards and James followed her.

Together they sat on the couch and James turned on one of the channels that reports on “hollywood drama” just as a segment about them came on. Lillie zoned in on their every word.

“Next on The HollyTrend, is she Pennsylvania’s Princess or just an uncouth, foul mouthed demon from hell. Last night at The Met Gala, Lillie Jones and James Whitmore were spotted by some paparazzi, sharing what seemed to be a very intimate and steamy moment together. But just seconds later, Lillie Jones snapped at a member of the press at a seemingly innocent question. When asked if the kiss they just shared was a PR stunt, Lillie turned on the paparzo and snapped at her in a very undermining tone. I can say one thing for sure here. And that is, James if you are dating her, get out. And get out now!”

Lillie couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and even though he was holding her hand. It wasn’t enough to comfort her from the lie and harsh words she had just been called. She ripped her hnd from James’ and rushed into her bedroom, locking the door behind her, climbing into her bed and letting the tears fall.

“Lillie, wait!” James called just as the doorbell rang. He sighed and answered it, taking in the food order and finding Lillie’s kitchen, placing the bags on the side, then going to the door which he heard slam shut and knocking gently. But the only thing he heard in response were muffled sobs.

“I just hate this job sometimes!” she yelled. “No mom, you don’t understand, I put myself out there. They see me as knowing what I was doing and inviting this kind of thing into my life!” the pain in her voice ripped at James’s heart as well as he mom’s on the other end of the line.

“He’s here. He came by to show me so I wouldn’t be alone when I read a paper or something I think. … He is. He’s a great guy. I only met him yesterday mom, I wouldn’t be able to tell if I’m in love yet! … Yeah, he’s a great kisser. MOM NO! DAD DON’T LISTEN TO HER! MOM! MOM!”

James knocked again as Lillie placed her phone on the bedside table as she realised her mom had hung up the call. She sighed heavily and got up to unbolt it. James entered with a small smile.

“Your food came. I’ve put it in your kitchen.”

“Oh. Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

James sat on the edge of her bed. “So you like locking doors huh?”

They both chuckled at his attempt at a joke. “Shut up.” Lillie giggled lightly kicking his leg.

“What? Are you gonna say it’s not true?”

“...No.” Lillie replied as she playfully rolled her eyes.

“What have you got planned for today?”

“I’m filming a vlog and a batch of about 7 videos for my channel.”

“Can I help?”

“Don’t you have a schedule of your own?”

“Trying to get rid of me now? Miss Jones?” James smiled mischievously, before launching himself at Lillie and attacking her with tickles.

“Ahh! James!” She laughed trying to push him off, but it was no use, he knew what he was doing and tickled her until she tapped out to catch her breath, lying next to her on the bed.

“That was fun.” He breathed heavily.

“Yeah.” Lillie responded in the same way.

As they laid catching their breath, in the middle of them, their hands brushed. They turned their heads and Lillie smiled at James whilst he blushed furiously from the slight contact.

“James?” Lillie asked, curiosity in her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Be honest. Do you… have a crush on me?”

“What?! Nooooo. I just think you’re very.. pretty. A lovely woman. Uh…” he said, blushing bright red and truing his face away. Was he seriously being that obvious that she could tell he had a crush.

“James. I’m not stupid. Last night you wanted to know how it felt to kiss me. Today you came to warn me about the tabloids and held my hand as I watched and listened, then just a few moments ago you attacked me with tickles just to get me smiling again. There’s only one conclusion here.” She said and James sighed defeatedly.

“Okay. I’ll admit it. I do. … have a crush on you. I have for a while.”

“How long?”

“Hm?”

“The crush. How long?”

“A little over a year.”

“A little over… wow.”

“I’m not a stalker! I promise!”

Lillie laughed loudly at his outburst. “I never said you were.”

“No. But I just want to make it clear that I just think you’re extremely beautiful, caring, funny and down to earth. I love watching your videos where you give back to your community by helping all those charities. The looks on the kids faces, or the gratefulness from the people working the food banks when you donate ready made hampers…”

Lillie zoned out and listened to him, looking in his eyes and realised that he didn’t just have a crush, he was deeply in love with her and she didn’t even know him.

“... but my favourite thing that you’ve done by far, would have to be delivered care packages to the homeless. It just truly shows what a lovely human you are. And the tabloids don’t know shit about you if they want to call you an uncouth, foul mouthed demon. Because you aren’t. You aren’t Pennsylvania’s princess either. You’re Lillie Jones and if that’s not enough for them, they can go fuck themselves.”

Lillie sniffled and reached for a tissue to dab away the tears in her eyes, gaining James’ attention.

“Did I make you cry?”

“Don’t worry. These are good tears!” Lillie chuckled as she wiped the fallen tears from her cheeks and blew her nose. “It’s just… you’re… you’re amazing.”

“I know. But thank you.” James grinned.

“You’re also way past a crush and deeply in love with me and haven’t even taken me on a date yet. I call that quite rude.” She joked.

“When are you free?”

“What?”

“When are you free? I’ll arrange a date. You and me, no cameras that aren’t our own, unless they belong to fans.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Deadly so.”

“Um… give me a second.” Lillie said, grabbing her planner from her desk and flicking through the pages. “I’m free on a Thursday 2 weeks from now.”

“Awesome. Keep that day clear. I’m going to make it the best day of your life.”

“I’m holding you to that, Mr. Whitmore.”

They chuckled and headed back downstairs, into the kitchen where Lillie ruffled through her bags and pulled out her food.

“It’s almost cold.” She sighed, turning around to get a plate from the cupboard, whilst James sat on a bar stool across from her.

She put the food on the plate and set it in the microwave to heat up and heard her phone ringing from in the living room, where she discarded it on her way through to the kitchen.

“Can you watch my food? I should get that.” She said running off and James chuckled as he rose to his feet and stood by the microwave.

As James looked through her drawers for the cutlery, Lillie raised her voice in anger making him worry about what the phone call was about.

“...NO MARK BECAUSE IF YOU KNOW ME AT ALL! AND I MEAN AT ALL! YOU- NO I WILL NOT CALM DOWN WHEN YOU’RE TELL ME TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE! UGH! THIS IS ONE TIME TOO MANY MARK, YOU ARE FIRED! EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!” Lillie shouted then hung up angrily throwing her phone on the sofa and letting out a scream before heading back to the kitchen.

James was drinking a glass of water as she walked in “you… don’t mind do you?” He asked.

Lillie looked at him, somewhat dazed “huh? Oh! No. You’re fine.” She waved and plopped down onto a stool.

“You wanna talk about it? Things sounded pretty intense.”

“They tend to be that way when your now, ex-manager, tries to break any new friendship or relationship you try to make work over and over again.”

“Let me guess. That was about the tabloids and me?”

“Got it in one.”

Lillie sighed as James placed her plate in front of her. “I’m not that hungry anymore, do you wanna share this with me?”

James was about to protest when his stomach grumbled loudly. “Oh I… yeah.. okay.” He smiled and grabbed another fork from the drawer and sat next to her.

Later in the afternoon, Lillie was wide awake and ready to start filming sit down videos and the end to her vlog.

“So what’s the first sit down video?”

“A get ready with me. I haven’t done one in a while, so I need to bring my makeup down from my room, set up on the coffee table and film away.”

“I’ll sort your ring lights for you.”

“Thanks James. You’re amazing.” She smiled and found herself naturally pecking his cheek before skipping off upstairs, whilst James stood frozen in his spot.

“She kissed my face.” He whispered to himself before shaking from his daze and getting the work on sorting Lillie’s ring lights.

Lillie came back carrying a decent sized box with all of her makeup and tools in it and started setting out the basics on the coffee table.

“That’s a lot of makeup.”

“It takes a lot to go from textured to flawless.”

“I prefer you textured.”

They looked at each other before bursting out in laughter again. It had only been a little over 24 hours since Lillie had met James but she felt so comfortable around him, and she hadn’t put her foot in her mouth once. She could be 100% herself and he didn’t judge a bit.

“Do you want to be a guest in this video? Or would you prefer to sit and watch?”

“I’d like to watch. I find it calming watching you do your makeup.”

“Aw. You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’m ready, could you hit record for me?”

“Of course. In 3… 2…” James motioned one with his finger then nodded as the camera started recording.

“Hello my little Lilypads, welcome back to another video! And today, we’re going to be getting ready together. Now the look I want to show you this time is one you can use for date night. You know how I do it here, I will be showing you a dressed up and dressed down version of this look so… let’s get it!”

James watched as Lillie spoke to the camera as if he wasn’t even there. He was transfixed with how she seemed to work so quickly whilst talking to her audience. He silenced his phone as texts started coming through, and mouthed a quick sorry to Lillie. She smiled at him subtly and carried on with her makeup.

“You’ve all probably seen the tabloids by now about me and a certain someone, and are wondering if I’ll address it. Which I will, it just won’t be in this video. Because this is a get ready with me, not Lillie's bitching sesh.”

Off camera James suppressed a giggle and shook his head as he smiled whilst Lillie put the finishing touches to the dressed down version of the look.

“Now this is, ladies and gents, the dressed down version. It’s soft, a little playful, subtle with the glitter.” She stood up and got closer to the camera to show her eye shadow. “Now if it’s a night out with the girls. You’re going out for a meal, then hitting the club for a little bit, to dress this delicate little golden number up, all you need to add is some navy blue or black eyeshadow and white eyeliner, which I will show you how to do, right now.”

A couple of hours later Lillie had finished 3 sit down videos and her vlog, and was not getting ready to film a last minute video with James. They had both taken to their social media pages to ask for questions and were having dinner, allowing enough to roll in.

“How many questions are we answering?” James asked.

“As many as our hearts desire.”

After dinner, James and Lillie watched some TV whilst they let their food settle then they set up the camera in front of the sofa and worked through the questions, some were funny, some were rude and addressed so, whilst other were just normal questions any curious person would ask.

“... OOO! This is a good one. It’s from Lillies_Angels. Does James have any pets of his own? He seems like a cat kind of guy but I could be wrong. From Charlotte.”

“I don’t have any pets, but I have adopted a baby elephant, who I try to go and see once every two months. I named him Winfred, after my father. It’s also my middle name, so he is technically named after both of us.”

“Really? Wow. Thanks for that question Charlotte. I hope you and the girls are doing okay, it’s been a while since we spoke, let’s talk soon! … Okay, one more question from your side James and then we’ll wrap this video up.”

James scrolled through the thousands of questions he had in response to his post until he found one that made him chuckle. “Okay. I’ve put you under pressure in this video so I think it’s only fair I answer a similar question.” taking a deep breath he read out the question. “Do you ever think Lillie will like you back as much as you like her? You’ve been pretty vocal about wanting to meet her over the last few months.” He blushed as he locked his phone and placed it aside on the table. “I.. don’t know. Is the honest answer to your question Sam. I am just thankful for being blessed enough to have this moment come. She knows that I have a crush on her now, but I’m not trying to rush a love story. Love stories take time to craft and make. If anything more were to happen between us, I’d want it to be natural and unforced.”

“Plus, he is taking me on a date Sam. so you needn’t worry. But sticking to what James is trying to say. We won’t be a couple to continuously post every couple thing we do on social media, if we become more than friends. I think we’d share milestones and highlights from vacations maybe, but anything else, I’d like to think we’d keep that private.”

James smiled and answered Lillie’s statement and Lillie wrapped up the video before James got up and pressed the button to stop recording.

“Okay 4 sit down videos complete, 3 to go and then I can hit the hay before waking up tomorrow and looking for a new manager.” Lillie said as she took a deep breath to center herself.

“I admire you even more now you know. You work so much harder than I thought. I thought you filmed one video a day every day for a week, but you film in batches like this?”

“What and you don’t?”

“I don’t. Actually. I film 2 videos a day, 3 days a week. And vlog whenever I feel like it. On top of that I model for Hugo Boss, Dior and BooHoo Man. But you do so much more.”

“It’s not a competition James. We each have our own limits and boundaries.” Lillie smiled.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” James sighed checking the time. “Woah is it really that late?”

Lillie yawned as she looked at the clock on the wall and saw it read 11:48pm. “It must be.”

“Are you going to be okay to record on your own now? I’ve got a flight to catch in two hours. I’m going to Italy for a photoshoot.”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’ve only got a bake with me, a clean with me and a wine and chill to film. So I’ll be fine. You head home and grab your things then head to the airport. I wouldn’t want you to miss your gig.”

They stopped at Lillie’s front door and shared a hug before James pulled his coat on. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

James smiled and gave her another hug before walking out of the door and descending the steps.

“Oh and James?!” Lillie called out.

He spun on his heel and looked up at her “Yeah?”

“Thanks for checking on me and … spending the afternoon helping me out. I… Thank you.” she smiled

“It’s no problem. Anytime I’m free, if you need me just call.” James replied.

And with a small smile and wave to each other he headed off towards the taxi rank not far from Lillie’s house, Lillie closing her front door, locking it and turning on her security system before heading back to filming more videos.

#not choices #love sick interactive game #james whitmore #lillie jones #love sick vampire ball #love sick james whitmore #love sick lillie jones #vampire ball AU #james whitmore x lillie jones #vampire ball mc #james whitmore x mc

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

Photo

Summary: After centuries together, an unexpected astronomical event occurs that causes the Earth to slowly be absorbed by the Sun. As the end of the world draws near, Dracula and Agatha spend their final moments together. Embracing their love in an otherwise chaotic conclusion. *Warning: Major Character Deaths*

Rating: T (M is if I choose to release the alternate ending)

Ship: Dracula/Agatha Status: Complete

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: This is a rather dark, but romantic one shot. Yes, I know the sun wouldn’t do this, but for story purposes and how the Sun played an important role in Dracula, it seemed fitting. I hope you guys like it (or find some sort of appreciation since, well, two major character deaths). Might consider releasing the M rated ending that goes along with the picture above. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy! -Jen

When We Collide

In reality, something was bound to happen eventually. As the years wore on, the planet had become more and more of a wasteland punished by mankind. Overpopulation. Pollution poisoning the very air needed to flourish. The sands of time had been emptying away for decades. Centuries. The only surprise was how quickly everything came crashing down.

Agatha carefully examined every dress hanging from the rack in her closet. Her eyes studied them, feeling the fabric between her fingers. Humming a nameless tone, she finally decided upon a dusty blue summer dress. It felt fitting all things considered. A smile graced her features as she took it down and began to change.

Colonizing on other planets had been a failed task. For a few decades, a select few had been sent to live on Mars. But the experiment only lasted for so long before the leaders of the world and scientific communities pulled the metaphorical plug. Earth proved to be the only habitable planet. A place that too soon would be just as lifeless.

She decided to leave her hair down that day. Usually how she always wore it. No silly updos or complicated styles. Just normal. How she liked it. How Dracula liked it. Smoothing out the creases on her dress, the former nun exited the room, closing the door one last time.

The television was on in the living room programmed to the news. Her eyes flickered briefly to the screen, taking in the images of panic broad-casted across it. Even with less than twenty four hours left, some people still seemed to have hopes of escaping. Hiding. While others just wanted nothing more to add to the mayhem and disorder. She turned back around, paying no mind to it as the sound of footsteps pulled her attention away from the distorted screams.

"You look utterly exquisite."

Dracula smiled broadly as he strode over and took her hand in his. She was unable to suppress a small chuckle when he brought it to his lips and kissed the top gently. How gentlemanly of him. Letting her arm fall back to her side, she looked her husband over. Well-groomed, as he always was. For a moment, a wave of sadness fluttered in her still heart as she gazed into his dark eyes. Even though she'd known him so well for centuries, she couldn't bear the idea of being apart. But she quickly pushed past that, not wanting to upset him too.

"You look quite presentable yourself." And she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Always have a way with cleaning up nicely."

The Count smiled before a flash of recognition crossed his features. "Oh, I got you a little something." Agatha watched as he hurried back into the kitchen only to return with a bouquet of fabric lilacs. "I know they aren't the real thing," he admitted as she took them. "But you can't find live flowers nowadays."

"They're beautiful," she smiled. "Thank you."

Dracula walked over and turned off the television just as the sounds of gunfire and screams vibrated through the speakers. He made his way back over to her, reaching down to interlock his fingers with her free hand. She felt his cool skin against the rising heat of their very home. The hot temperatures didn't bother either of them. Their flesh void of blisters and burns. A vampiric perk.

"I was doing some deep thinking this morning," Dracula began. "About where we should go? I thought about the shore, but it'll most likely be crowded. People are throwing parties. An interesting way to celebrate the end."

"I've never been one for parties." She admitted, squeezing his hand. "Where else?"

"The old abbey is out of the question for obvious reasons." He glanced down at the watch on his wrist-a gift from Agatha from years ago. "Fylingdales Moor in Scarborough? It'll be a walk, but we have all the time in the world." The vampire snorted at his morbid joke. "What do you say?"

Agatha pondered his words before giving him a smile. "It's a good thing I have my walking shoes then."

When the word broke out about what was happening, the media ate it up alive. Theories. Conspiracies. Not a place, person, or thing was safe from being blamed. In the end, no one knew exactly why it was happening. Why the very star that provided so much for life was now about to extinguish it all. The outcome was simple, the Sun was absorbing the Earth at record speed. As it turned out, the damned thing was really deadly to vampires after all. Oh the irony of it.

The earth and its vegetation surrounding the little manor Dracula had built for the two of them had grown brown and dusty. As the sun's rays drew closer, everything had begun to wilt away. Agatha tried not to look at her garden, at the ruined flower beds she'd put so much effort into. Even the vegetables she'd tended to-all of the produce she gave away for free at the farmer's market-gone.

"You always had the prettiest roses," Dracula said, breaking the silence. "I don't care what the judges at the festival said. You should've let me take out Mrs. Robertson when I had the chance."

"Murder is not the answer when winning a competition." His wife stated, rolling her eyes. "Besides, she was old. I would've had an eternity to beat another."

Dracula visibly flinched and Agatha felt a pang of guilt. He had, after all, promised her the world. Enteral life. Immortality. And yet, she felt truly fulfilled. Her experiences, her memories, how she treasured them. It was for those reasons she was at peace with what was coming. Agatha only wished Dracula felt the same.

"Dracula," she began. "I think we should talk…"

"No," the vampire said abruptly. "We agreed that today was going to be a good day. Let's not ruin it with such discussions." Agatha sighed in defeat as the man pulled her along. "Remember our trip to Sweden?"

"You mean the one where I refused to let you feed off an innocent Swedish man and thus you were unable to successfully pick up the language?" She smirked at the memory. "If I recall correctly, I believe you called our innkeeper a 'rotten potato'."

"You're lucky he didn't kick us out," Dracula remarked. "We would've been forced to sleep on a pile of rotten potatoes then." He couldn't help but smile at the sound of Agatha's laugh. "Quite frankly, I don't know how I've managed to put up with you for so long. You can be quite domineering you know."

"If it weren't for me, you've been lost a long time ago," she countered. "You're lucky to have me around, Count Dracula."

He met her eyes, his mouth curving into a genuine grin. "I suppose I can't argue with that."

Besides the sound of their footsteps, the environment around them was quiet. Many of the animals had succumbed to rising climate change. As water sources dried up, the creatures that depended on them died too. Agatha distinctly recalled walking by Whitby beach one afternoon to find that much of the shore had been covered with decaying fish carcasses. The smell was almost so unbearable that her stomach lurched. There weren't any visitors that day, or even the week that followed.

"We really should have reconsidered going back to Transylvania," Dracula stated, breaking the silence. "It would've been nice to see the castle again. Or even Hungary?"

"Yes, because we had the greatest time in Budapest." Agatha replied, giving him a look. "No, England has been our home for so long. It seems fitting that we stayed here. It's nostalgic."

"You and your sentimental nature," he husband scoffed. "Sometimes I wonder if you reverted back into your human form."

"And would you still love me if I had?" She questioned, studied his face carefully. "If I was human?"

"Even if you put a stake to my chest and called me a despicable beast-which, I might have, you've done in the past, I would most certainly." The vampire smiled and took her into his arms, kissing her softly. "You were always my most promising experiment."

"You and your elegant way with words." Agatha smirked, rolling her eyes. "I should have worked with you on that. But it would've taken away from that charismatic charm of yours."

"Are you mocking me?" Dracula asked, a brow cocked.

"Just merely stating a point." She answered, reaching down to once again reclaim his hand. For a second, her eyes glanced up towards the sky noting how scarlet it'd already become. "We should hurry. I'd like to enjoy the fields before it's too late."

It was odd that despite the millions of people who called England their residence were not out and about. Not once since they'd left their house had they come across another person. Not that they were complaining, both Dracula and Agatha wanted privacy. And as they approached the rolling hills of their destination, the vampires stopped.

"This looks like a lovely place." Agatha said, turning to Dracula. "Wouldn't you agree?"

The elder vampire's face had fallen void of emotion. He let go of his mate's hand and stared upwards, the corners of his lips turning downwards into a frown. Agatha forced a smile as she watched him, trying to hide her own disappointment. The air was getting hotter and they both knew their time was closing in.

"I lied to you."

At first, Agatha wasn't quite sure if she heard him right. It was an odd statement, something she hadn't expected. When she tried to catch his eyes, he didn't meet hers. Instead, he continued to look off into the distant as if deep in thought.

"Dracula…" She said hesitantly, reaching out to grab his arm. "What are you talking about? What do you mean you lied?"

The man merely sighed, pinching the brim of his nose before finally finding it in him to face his wife. "I promised you forever," he exclaimed. "From the moment I turned you, I assured you that I would make you last. Bond together for eternity. But this," he wildly motioned at the sky. "Is not what I meant."

"No, you're right…" Agatha began, moving closer. "It wasn't what either of us expected. But my dearest Count, you did give me a full life. Centuries that I would have otherwise never had." She reached up, resting a hand against his cool cheek. "I'm not upset or scared about what is to come. I'm not alone. I have you, don't I?"

"Well yes," Dracula agreed, still grimacing. "But now I've doomed us to becoming nothing more than ash-if we are lucky to become only that."

"Then let us become ash, or particles, or whatever else happens when we burn," she murmured. "If this was what life had intended for us, then in the end, I'm glad I was with you." Agatha chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Funny to think I wouldn't have agreed to that those many, many centuries ago. Back at the convent. You remember yes?"

"How could I forget," he smirked. "What a feisty personality you had as a nun."

"We went from wanting to kill each other to wanting to die together." Agatha sighed, gazing deep into his eyes. "Irony has truly followed us throughout the years. But I wouldn't change a second of it. Not a moment." The ground around them began to smoke, but she ignored it. "Do you love me, Count Dracula?"

"More than I'll ever be able to comprehend." He answered, pulling her close. "You, my beloved, have always been my true bride."

The air was scorching now, a blinding orange glow radiating from every direction. The skirt of Agatha's dress was now encircled by a brilliant ring of red flame. She didn't seem to notice though as she pushed herself up to kiss Dracula on the mouth hard. His arms wrapped around her as he held her close.

"Don't let go." she whispered, allowing her eyes to close for one last time.

"Never," he answered. "Not in a million years."

And together, as the mighty star drew in closer, the lovers were pulled into the Sun's welcoming embrace. Forever lost in their eternal love.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #When We Collide

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spacebabe51 · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on 1991 Dark Shadows

You guys asked for it, but I warn you, I'm stupid long winded. I’ll spare you the long intro I was originally gonna tack onto this post because it’s already way too long. Basically this is just my thoughts on Barnabas, Victoria, Willie and Julia and why and where I think they fail to capture the audience’s attention.

So let’s start in the obvious place; Ben Cross as Barnabas Collins. Now. I have a lot of sympathy for pretty much anyone who tries to take on this role: Jonathan Frid just has this unhatable quality to him, which makes the ill-advised nonsensical hypocritical B.S. that spurts from the character of Barnabas Collins like a fountainhead somehow forgivable. It would be really hard to give this role to anyone and maintain that odd mix of unlikeable and endearing. Ok, now that I’ve said that I can say this: I don’t like him. I don’t like this Barnabas.

It’s not because he’s young; I understand why that choice keeps getting made, although I disagree that it’s essential. The original show does go in narrative circles pretending that Frid/Barnabas is much younger than he looks or just avoiding the subject altogether. A young actor can play Barnabas; a hot actor can even play Barnabas; and I’ll grin and bear it as long as he’s entertaining. Cross is not entertaining. I don’t know if it’s fear of doing something wrong or if he watched the original Dark Shadows and saw Frid hamming it clutching a rubber bat to his throat and said “couldn’t be me”, but he will not emote and it absolutely kills the character for me. Barnabas is a lot of things in his first few episodes on the show. He’s suave, he’s scared, he’s unhinged, he’s mournful, he’s triumphant, he’s cruel...but one thing he never is is boring. Even when he’s standing around looking off into nothing and reciting long verses of meaningless prose, we’re engaged. Frid, after all, was a trained Shakespearean actor. Staring into nothing and reciting prose is what he’s best at.

Another thing Frid is is visually nervous; he was out of his depth on a vampire soap opera as well as constantly at a loss to remember his lines, and it shows; in ways that somehow endearingly make the character seem lost and out of his depth in a new time and in a fate he doesn't enjoy. All Cross ever really shows us is suaveness; stillness, and a vaguely constipated expression. He isn’t nervous. He seems calculated. It makes scenes like the one near the end of the pilot way more terrifying. He goes from telling Vicky the story of Josette and Barnabas’ love and her death to savagely beating Willie with nearly the same facial expression and inflection; he comes across as a cold blooded sociopath more than an unhinged impulsive killer. There isn’t much humanity to him, and that makes him hard to root for, either as a villain or a sympathetic monster.

Joanna Going’s Victoria Winters:

Hey, what a surprise! I actually don’t hate her. At least, I didn’t at first. Now, Vicky is a fairly easy character to cast- because let’s face it, she’s a pretty textbook example of a gothic romance protagonist. You know, the kind that are always running away from houses on book covers?

But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to find someone the audience will connect with and like. The protagonist needs to be a little something more than a blank slate, which is something the original character suffered with, (not in the first season, but in every subsequent one) Going’s Victoria seemed at least a smidgen more self-aware and spunky(?), which is refreshing. Or, at least, I thought. And then episode three came along and suddenly she was 100% on board with Barnabas’ gross stiff romance. So never mind, scratch all that. The actress is fine for the character, but the character is still being sold a bill of goods by the writers.

Jim Fyfe’s Willie Loomis

Let’s get to the real meat of it, shall we? I have to first say that I am probably not qualified to talk about this, being fairly neurotypical and knowing little about the state of representation in the media for intellectually disabled individuals. Secondly, I have to say that I have at least some respect for Fyfe for being one of the few people to go against the grain and actually act on this show, and he is slightly less boring to watch than a lot of the others, if...not in a pleasant way. In any case I don’t think we can blame what I’m about to talk about on his acting per say.

That said...uh...there were some, ahem, bad choices made in terms of Willie’s character. And yes, of course I'm talking about coding him as intellectually challenged and then treating it like a joke, or a character flaw (?). In fact the more I think about it, the worse it gets. Now this is just conjecture, but the choice to cast Willie as conventionally unattractive and intellectually challenged, in order to, I guess, justify or explain the dislike everyone has for him, is incredibly bad for any goodwill the show already isn’t trying to establish among the rest of it’s main cast. Karlen’s Willie, by comparison, is set up as a scumbag from long before Barnabas arrives. He harrasses women, steals, lies, starts fights; etc. Even in the “House” movie, we get a few seconds of him being gross towards Maggie to imply this is normal behavior from him. The most we see Fyfe’s Willie do is be kind of surly and annoying at a bar where he’s already been denied service. He seems more like a guy who isn’t good at social cues, and who is just genuinely sick of being pushed around for no good reason. If Dark Shadows had for some reason decided it wanted to do a story about inequality and social stigma in the midst of it's vampire fever dream, then fine, but that's not what this is; It’s almost like the show wanted to rely on his looks and supposed “mental insufficiency” to make the audience dislike him. He seems more like Collinsport’s long time scapegoat than a drifter who came into town to start trouble, and combining that with the coding paints a very dark picture and makes the already emotionless Collins’ family seem pretty terrible. (and I won’t even go into the whole “Barnabas beats Willie and then two episodes later they’re best friends” thing here because there aren’t enough expletives in the world for it) ALSO also, and this is nit-picky, I have a problem with the fact that Fyfe can’t pick an accent. Sometimes he seems to be trying to imitate Karlen’s Booklynese, sometimes he sounds vaguely Southern, sometimes he sounds like he’s trying to impersonate Goofy...it’s very distracting. Not more distracting than all the other terrible things, but distracting.

Barnabas Steele’s Julia Hoffman: As anyone who follows me knows, I sort of worship Grayson Hall, so I almost feel bad saying I don’t like someone in this role, because, duh. For me, there will only ever be one Julia Hoffman. Is that gonna stop me from saying it? Hell no.

Steele’s Julia suffers from nearly the exact flaw Cross’ Barnabas does; an inability or unwillingness to emote in any fashion. Add on, however, a nauseating lack of chemistry with any of the other actors, and you have a recipe for eyes glazing over by act two. I think, honestly, the biggest flaw of trying to recast this show is this; Dark Shadows is, essentially, a play. It was a troupe of mainly theater actors, working in close proximity, live, on a shabby theater-like set. When you strip away those elements and add in true soap opera people and plots and camera angles, you lose that magical experimental, campy, electric element the original had. I know I’m talking more vaguely about the show now and less about Steele’s Julia, but honestly there's not much to say about her? She doesn’t come across as particularly clever, or bold, or any of the things that made us root for Julia when we were pretty sure she was on the fast track to getting killed her first few weeks. She just sort of meanders through plot points and talks like she’s controlling a ventriloquist dummy somewhere offscreen. She’s not interesting, and when it comes to Julia Hoffman, psychiatrist, blood specialist, hypnotist, fake historian, etc, that’s the worst thing she can be.

If you've read this far, thank you! I would love to hear you guys' thoughts, whether you agree or disagree or think I missed the mark entirely. I'm only on episode 6: I'm going to continue watching, purely out of obligation since they're taking the show off Amazon Prime at the end of the month, and I may make some memes/follow up posts when we get to Angelique, 1795, etc.

#dark shadows #ds #dark shadows 1991 #91 dark shadows #barnabas collins #ben cross #jonathan frid #Victoria winters #Vicky winters #Joanna going #alexandra moltke #willie loomis #jim fyfe #john karlen #Julia hoffman #dr Julia hoffman #Barbara steele #grayson hall #dan curtis

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jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

shawn meets... | ann (again)

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm.

AN: this is the last chapter of this series. i’m reviving goth gf.

previous chapter

ann’s origin story | ann’s playlist | masterlist

Ann looked very different than she did at the awards show. Shawn almost didn’t recognize her as he watched the live camera footage at his front door through. There was no longer a short black bob, instead it was long, dark hair with red streaks. There was also the all black get up that reminded him of Ann in college. She was different, but not.

He pressed the speaker button. “Ann?”

She jumped at the sound. “Uh… yeah? Annalise Flores, LMHC, LMFT, uh… MD? Shit, what else do you want?”

“Mm, do a dance,” he requested.

“Fuck off.”

Same old Ann. With a grin, Shawn went over to the door and opened it. There stood Ann, decked out in a black jacket, leggings, and platforms. Her style hadn't changed all that much when she wasn't working. Shawn let her in, watching her move. Just something about Ann made everything feel familiar but foreign at the same time.

"Well… this isn't the Toronto apartment," she said, looking around at the massive open space, the open windows and chandeliers. "How many homes do you have now?"

"What, just because I'm famous now, you think I have a bunch of houses?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Ann raised an eyebrow, and he gave in.

"Five. Two in Canada, two in the States, and one in London."

"I fucking knew it," Ann said, grinning. "You've really made a life for yourself, huh?"

Shawn was humble and waved it off. Then he led her to the island in the kitchen, sitting her down on one of the stools. "Anything to drink?"

"Water, please?"

After getting her a glass, Shawn took the stool next to her. He watched her face, trying to detect any hint of… well, anything. But trying to read Annalise Flores's general energy was never an easy task. Maybe she really was a vampire.

The thought alone sent a weird pit down Shawn's stomach. He decided to fill the silence.

"So, where to begin?" he said.

"Do I really need to ask what you've been up to?" she replied.

"Nah, I wanna hear about you. Catch me up on the whole six years."

She chuckled and set down the glass on the counter. "Nothing truly exciting. Work, school… more school."

"You're a therapist now. When did that happen?"

"A few months ago," Ann said. "I worked at a few practices here in LA while I completed my Master's. I recently got an office, so now I can have in-person sessions. I'm just building my clientele, and debating whether or not I wanna go for a PhD."

"That's awesome." Shawn couldn't help but grin at those pieces of information. He knew how hard Ann worked when they were in college, and she was playing it off like it was no big deal. But she made her dreams come true. "So, Bella is one of your clients? Any other names I might know?"

Ann shook her head. "That's confidential."

Now it was Shawn's turn to give her a look, but she didn't budge.

"I'm serious! Unless the client mentions me or signs a consent form, I legally cannot disclose that."

Well there go all the cool stories that could have been shared. However, Shawn did not run out of things to talk about.

"I saw you in a video," he said, a knowing grin on his face. "Spending the day with goths?"

The two of them looked at each other. Ann's eyes widened a little bit, clearly didn't see that coming.

"I lost a bet," she started, and Shawn laughed. "Seriously! A friend of mine saw Anthony Padilla's post on YouTube, and then we bet on a soccer game, and the forfeit was for me to email about the ad. Somehow, I got in and… I actually really enjoyed the interview."

"It was so crazy to see you out there in cyberspace," Shawn said. "After, I don't know, four or five years? It's like the only thing that changed about you was your hair. Speaking of which… hair?"

Ann sighed, playing with the ends of her colorful locks. "One: privacy. Bella wanted me onstage with her and I had to be working. My social media has blown up a little bit with her followers, and I've been getting a lot of client applications. Two: I have to look professional, yet casual for work, and I did not want to cut my hair or give up fun colors."

"So you bought a wig?"

"I bought a wig."

It was amusing, but it also made so much sense. Ann was always private, and the chance of being recognized in public now that she was linked to a wildly famous YouTuber must have been off putting. Shawn could only imagine the amount of traffic going through Ann's office as well.

"Oh, and I owe you an explanation for the other night," she added.

Shawn tilted his head. "Huh?"

"I was impatient and snappy. I shouldn't have been like that because it's you. Being a shrink can get exhausting, on top of the event we were at. So I apologize."

It's you.

"Oh, don't even worry about it." Shawn waved it off. Then, as a passing thought, "Could you be my therapist?"

Ann breathed out a laugh, looking down at her lap. "If we didn't have the history we do, maybe…"

Perfect segue.

"Can we talk about that history?" he asked.

"What is there to talk about?" Ann asked in response.

It was an odd thing to say, for a therapist. She had to know how much there was to unpack regarding the break up. Maybe she just wasn't thinking about the past the way Shawn did. Ann was the one to end things after all.

"I just missed you for a while, that's all," Shawn admitted.

Ann raised her dark eyebrows. "For six years?"

"Well, you were the first person I fell in love with. I've dated people since then, but everyone has a permanent soft spot for their firsts." He felt a little put down. It only confirmed how confident Ann had been in ending the relationship.

She was looking at him as she played with the ends of her hair. Her expression was unreadable. "You're saying that while you were out in the world making your dreams come true and being pulled in every direction to meet the demands of that life… you found time to miss me? And time to be sad that we were broken up?"

Shawn took a moment to process that. Then, he admitted, "I cried a lot at every hotel I stayed at. The first few months on the tour bus were hard, because the nightmares came back for a little bit." He also wrote a track that was on his first album, but that was something else entirely.

"That's very impressive." Ann shifted in her seat. "I have quite a few clients in the same industry. Plenty of them are spread so thin that they don't have time to healthily process anything that might be going on in their personal lives. I have clients that are grieving things that happened years ago. But you? It looks as though you timed your grief."

"I didn't intend to," Shawn said, rubbing his neck. He wasn’t expecting this kind of response. Maybe he was talking to Ann the therapist as opposed to Ann the ex-girlfriend. "It just happened when it happened. I learned that I can't put my all into everything when bad things happen. Worse things happened that made me take some time off altogether."

"Things like what?"

A look of surprise appeared on Shawn's face for a moment. The death of Brian wasn't exactly a secret, but it seemed to only reach the corners of Shawn's online fanbase. While it has been a year since the sad event, it was still hard for Shawn to be the one to break the news.

"We're talking about us," he told Ann. "Did you even miss me?"

She sighed. "A month after you left college, I heard you on the radio. Everywhere, all the time. People on campus asked me about you, thinking we were still together. You did a fucking Calvin Klein shoot like, six months after we broke up. Do the math."

Every word gave Shawn an ounce of relief. He smirked a little bit at the last statement.

Ann went on. "It was like karma. I broke up with you, and then the universe put you everywhere to remind me of my decision, asking me if I regret it."

There was a pause. But Shawn had to know. "Do you regret it?"

"No."

______

taglist: @someoneunimportantxx @shawnsunflower @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @chillingbythesea @iloveshawnieboi

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x oc #shawn meets fic #no one will read this and then the next series will be confusing oh well #im writing for me at this point alkhdglkf

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