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jackiequick · 2 months

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X-Men Evolution — OC 🎸

~ Is this just to fuel my desire for more X-men content? Yes, yes it is. Plus I adore the cartoon I wish it got more traffic because it’s pretty good!

Full name: Hailey Meredith Rose Wright

Nicknames: Hail, Mere, Rosy

Sign: Virgo

Birthday: August 29th

Age: 17-25

Height: 5’5

Parents: Kisa Wright (mom), Charles Xavier (father), Erik Lehnsherr (father-figure)

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Personality: Hailey is a deep thinker, modest, rather picky, analytical, clumsy on occasion, and pretty supportive. However she has a pretty gentle demeanor, kind, very inpatient and soft spoken. She’s often very quiet compared to others, however she doesn’t need to say anything because her behavior and facial expressions say it all.

—Quirks

Fidgets with Objects: Hailey often plays with small metallic objects, like paperclips or coins, subconsciously bending and reshaping them when deep in thought or nervous.

Facial Expressions: She communicates a lot through her expressions, often making her thoughts and feelings known without saying a word.

——————-

Powers: Magnetism. Or as Hailey likes to put it, “It’s like telekinesis but with metallic objects.”

In other words, she can push/pull metallic and magnetic material (ex: attracting a smartphone or repelling metallic robots).

Another instance is bending and manipulating magnetic materials (ex: bending a string of paperclips then reshaping them into tiny hearts or crushing a handful of computers into striking pieces).

Sensing Metal: Over time, she has developed the ability to sense the presence of metal in her surroundings, giving her an edge in unfamiliar environments.

—Personal Skills

Problem-Solving: Hailey's analytical skills make her a natural problem-solver, whether it's figuring out a complex situation or coming up with innovative uses for her powers.

Listening: Her supportive nature and ability to listen make her a trusted confidante among her peers, often helping others work through their issues.

———————

Appearance and Style

—Clothing Style

Casual Wear: Hailey prefers comfortable, practical clothing nothing too tight or fancy use to her sensitive skin. Think fitted jeans, simple graphic t-shirts, tank-tops and leather jackets. She often incorporates subtle accessories like a big hoop earring or bracelets.

Accessories: She wears a locket that belonged to her mother, made of golden marble, so she can always keep it close using her abilities. She has a handful of earrings and rings in a box, often changing up her appearance with multi-hoop earrings or multiple stylized rings.

—Distinctive Features

Tattoo: Hailey has a small, discreet tattoo of a lightings bolts.

Scars: She has a few minor scars from training and past missions, but none are particularly prominent.

Jewelry: She often wears a small sliver nose ring

—Signature Color Combination

Primary Color: Maroon.

Accent Color: Bronze/Brown.

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—Background and History 🖼️

Years ago, during a visit to California for a conference on genetic diversity, Charles Xavier met a woman named Kisa Wright. Kisa, an associate director for the media, was working at the conference, providing information, filming, and reporting back to the editor for the magazine she worked at. She lived in North Carolina but had flown to California a few months in advance to prepare for the conference. Kisa had tan skin, short brown hair, and a darling smile. Charles found her attractive, kind, and intelligent, often watching her work behind the camera.

During the conference, their eyes met several times, sparking a mutual interest. Once the conference ended, Charles invited Kisa for a cup of coffee. She accepted, and they talked for hours at a nearby coffee shop. Over the week, they continued meeting for lunch, their encounters feeling like dates. Charles flirted, and Kisa smiled at his compliments, though he kept some distance regarding his private life. Kisa respected his boundaries, understanding his busy life.

As the week concluded, they returned to their daily routines. A few weeks later, Kisa discovered she was pregnant. Not wanting to burden Charles, whom she assumed wouldn’t want children, she decided not to inform him. Despite attempting to write to him, the letters never reached Charles for various reasons. Nine months later, Kisa gave birth to Hailey Rose.

Hailey grew up in North Carolina, loving baseball, photography, and fashion. She often accompanied her mother to the studio, watching the behind-the-scenes action of filming, interviewing, and high-quality photography. Life was good until her mother’s career demanded more travel, leaving Hailey often staying at a friend’s house.

When Hailey was 16, tragedy struck. One afternoon, while at a friend’s house, police arrived with devastating news: there had been a bus crash, and multiple people were injured or killed, including Kisa Wright. Hailey, in shock and disbelief, struggled to accept the news, despite her friend’s mother’s comforting words. Just moments earlier, her mother had called, promising to see her soon. Now, she was gone.

———————

—Aftermath and Discovery 🔬

Grief and Struggle

Emotional Turmoil: Grief took over Hailey as she struggled with the loss of her mother. A part of her felt responsible, believing that her encouragement of her mother’s career might have led to the tragedy. Her mother’s career had inspired Hailey to consider becoming a photographer, but after such a shocking experience, she refused to entertain that idea for herself.

Coping Mechanisms: Hailey often cried herself to sleep and found solace in her mother's belongings, frequently wearing an old-fashioned jacket that had belonged to Kisa. These items provided a comforting connection to her lost mother.

Support System: Hailey’s friends’ family, being close family friends, took her in and supported her through this difficult time, knowing that Kisa would have appreciated their care for her daughter.

— Discovery of Powers 💎

One afternoon in mid-June, Hailey was visiting an old house near a lake, under the care of her mother’s best friend, Ophelia. The location was serene and a welcome escape from the city’s noise. Ophelia, noticing Hailey’s continued struggle with her emotions, suggested she take a moment to stand in the lake and confront her bottled-up feelings. Though hesitant, Hailey agreed.

Emotional Release: Hailey brought her pens, papers, a blanket, and other personal items to the lake. She removed her shoes and waded into the water until it reached her knees. There, she stood, speaking to herself, crying, and eventually letting out a deep breath before screaming at the top of her lungs. Her scream was filled with confusion, pain, anger, and frustration over the past few months.

Manifestation of Powers: As she screamed, her hands open and heart pounding, Hailey felt a sudden burst of energy and a strange sensation between her fingers. When she looked, she realized her necklace, which had been on the blanket behind her, was now in her palm.

To say the girl was shocked and scared would be an insult to her own words.

“What the..?” She mumbled under her breath.

She couldn’t understand how the necklace had moved to her hand without her touching it…

The next few days, Hailey stayed indoors, trying to forget what happened and not speak about it to her Aunt Ophelia in fear she might want her to experience or explore this newfound discovery. Hailey that she was seeing things, as she tried to stay calm and away from the lake, in confusion and frustration of could possibly have caused that.

She knew that the ocean was full of unknown objects and creatures, but she knew that wasn’t it. She thought she was seeing things. As calm as she tried to stay, it seemed like it wasn’t working, as small items next to her start to wiggle around a bit.

She thought she was going nuts when she pointed to her headset that lay on the couch, screaming for the headphones to stop shaking, but it only made it move even more as she flicked her hands, resulting in her headset to go flying backwards hitting the wall instead. To her relief, it didn’t break.

Ophelia heard the noise and went to check on her, as Hailey hurried to pick it up and quickly pulled herself together, telling her that her headphones accidentally fell. Ophelia just nodded and went back, to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes.

Hailey knew she needed to get out of the house, clear her thoughts and grab something to eat, as she grabbed the extra pair of keys and ran.

—————

Meanwhile at Xavier’s Institute, Cerebro picked up movement of a possible mutant wondering the streets of Upstate New York. Cerebo slowly turned to its analysis on this mutant’s behavior. Xavier assumed it to be Erik, as he knew the man was one to travel, as well as the only other mutant with whom can control metal without their knowledge. That he knows of, that is.

However Cerebo picked it up to be a young female, around 17 years old, who decided to make a run for her after discovering that something different was happening to them. Intrigued and concerned, Charles went Jean Gray to get meet the girl and possibly bring her to the mansion before she can cause any damage to herself or her surroundings.

Jean went and picked up on the girls location, finding her near an empty parking lot, sitting at the curbside picking at her nails listening to music, trying to figure out what to do next. But when Jean tried to carefully confront the girl, she just tried to ignore her and leave, as Jean did her best to avoid any wondering eyes trying to showcase that Hailey wasn’t alone.

Hailey refused to believe her, think Jean was just crazy and stumbled away from her, as Jean tried following her. Hailey found herself in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by objects such as trash, street signs, loose change on the ground and etc.

Jean was trying to ease Hailey and tell her that everything was gonna be alright, but Hailey was scared and uncertain about everything, shouting at Jean to leave her alone as the loose change such as coins went flying and hitting Jean Gray as she tried to block every single one of them.

She didn’t want to hurt anyone or cause an damage, she just wanted to make it stop and yes, Jean was doing everything in her best interest to help her calm down, she could tell that Hailey was impatient and terrified.

She accidentally pushed a coin straight at Jean Gray’s forehead, leaving a small brutal cut. Hailey hissed and winced at the sight, then puffed up her jacket running down the parking lot and into a corner, taking a breathe. However Jean caught up her and with one gentle sigh, she raised her hands in defense in a gesture to showcase she doesn’t want to fight her. Hailey’s hands balled into a tight flaring fist, looking at Jean and took another breath, deciding to give her a chance to hear the women out.

Soon enough, after a few moments, Hailey nodded at the redhead and decided to reluctantly follow her to the school.

There at the school, she was met with plenty of questions and different faces who past her. She saw teens and young adults using their abilities, some were blue, some had crawls and the list went on. Kids running around and others chatting with each other, meanwhile Hailey noticed there were a couple of teens were left to their own devices sitting alone doing an activity.

Jean guided her to entered a room that held a brunette with light eyes sitting down at his desk dressed in a causal suit, while speaking to a young brunette teenager who was wearing a set of deep red sunglasses to cover his eyes. The one with sunglasses stood up from the couch and gave her a kind smile, greeting her, calling himself Scott Summers. The man at the desk wasn’t far behind, genuinely curious and kindly welcomed Hailey, as he said his name was Professor Xavier.

They explained to her about mutants and how they are all different yet unique, that it’s hard however the powers they hold aren’t curses but gifts. Professor Xavier could tell that she was a little shy and trying to take it all in, however he gently encouraged her to try to showcase what she can do.

Hailey hated the several eyes on her, as she requested some space and just have one person in the room. In result, Jean and Scott left, leaving her and Charles to their own devices. Charles slowly turned around to give her his full attention to show him what she believed she can do. Hailey then looked around his desk and reached out her hand to move the small set of paper clips around a bit then pauses.

“Impressive, dear..” Charles said with a soft smile.

She shrugged, “It’s nothing, Professor…it’s uh, been a lot..”

“Ah, I understand. Our machines here picked up on the day your powers first began and sense how anxious you were. And that’s perfectly normal, because it’s a lot to handle. But I promise you, you will get a hang of it.”

“Thank you.”

“Cerebo picked up on what I assumed is your first name, but it didn’t get your full attention..may I asked, what is your name?”

Hailey told him her full name, and who she thought she was. Professor just smiled and nodded, trying to get a sense of the girl, especially due to her last name sounding oddly familiar to him.

——————

—Truths to be found 🗝️

Time went on, Hailey Rose Wright started to live at the mansion with other students, such as Kitty Pride, Rogue, Evan Daniels and others. She was even being treated well and taught to not be ashamed on her newfound skills. When she wasn’t going to classes and training, which often led to her and the others kids teasing Logan and Storm during lunchtime, she was hanging outside on the basketball court.

A few weeks later, a tall man named Erik Lehnsherr arrived at the school, greeting Raven and other students out front before entering the building. He was walking around, wearing a black turtleneck and dress pants, holding a pair of sunglasses. Hailey was sitting next to one of her friends, Ethan, on the stairs writing with her notebook as she noticed the man make an b-line.

“Who’s that?” She asked, gesturing to the man.

Ethan looked up from his notebook and shrugged, “My dad..don’t mind him.”

“The fu-“

“Long story.”

Charles and Erik were in the office, catching up on things, laughing at each other’s jokes, making suggestions to the staff members…among other things of course. When it came to the students, Charles was hesitant about talking about his latest student but Erik was able to sniff it out of him, having hear from Raven about a new student who shared a similar skill set to him. Charles eventually let it rip, telling him about he believes that Hailey Rose in his daughter, because he recalls meeting her mother once during a conference years back.

Erik almost chocked on his drink at the moment and scoffed, trying to hold back a little smirk. Charles didn’t seemed pleased with his response and Erik grunted, telling his oldest friend to take a moment to reflect and tell this young girl that he’s her father. Erik knows from experience how it is not to tell someone your their parents and how difficult parenting can be, but still he tries.

Two days later, Charles requested for Hailey to meet him in his office, for an important conversation. The brunette thought she was in deep trouble, ready to blame it on Bobby if things went south, as she wondered what was so important. But to her surprise, Charles led the conversation with nothing about school or her powers, but onto who she is. He asked if either of her parents are mutants, because the x-gene sometimes gets past on mainly from the father, as Hailey shook her head.

From what she knows, her mother and father were young, as it was a very short relationship that barely lasted a month. And her mother, Kisa, tried to make contact with her father once or twice by sending letters but they never arrived to her father. Charles nodded, surprised himself about everything he was supposedly hearing as he tried his best to explain things. Hailey questioned whether it was important to know this information, as Charles slowly ripped off the bandage and told her what he assumed was the truth.

That he was her father.

Hailey was in shock and disbelief, listening to Charle’s side of the story. He explained how he met her mother, how he cared for her and how brief their relationship was. He didn’t even know that he had a child in the first place and if he did, he would’ve went searching for her. Hell, Charles even told her how he never received any letters from her mother, assuming they got lost in the mail or something. He apologized for not telling her sooner but he would like to get to know her.

The two had a long conversation in that office regarding the situation at hand.

Hailey was skeptical, confused and vastly concerned about the new information given to her. She had no clue who her father was growing up and often asked her mother, as her mother would always say he was a kind teacher and very intelligent, but he was also a charmer who dazzled him that day. But her mother never said anything about who exactly he was.

Somehow a part of Hailey was pleased with the fact that what her mother said was true, and even though it hurt that they both found out now, she was oddly at ease. She got lucky that her father was an understanding individual, who tough a school for children like her and not some mutant-hating-asshole!

It took an awful long time for Hailey to get used to but due to Charles openness, patience and understanding, the two of them too it slow. And if Xavier had to be honest, he was pretty excited about having a chance to be a father to such a kind young girl.

——————

—A Family Of Mutants 💿

Over time, Hailey and Ethan became closer as friends, treating one another almost like siblings. The two were rather loner kids when they started out, rather hanging out by themselves and practicing their skills together. As neither one of them truly wanted to be there at first. Often times, you would find the two friends sitting by the courtyard chatting or binge watching Pixar movies together.

Logan would sometimes find the two sneaking off late nights to the kitchen for a midnight snack or to sit on the porch watching the stars. The two eventually did start interacting with other students such as Petra Summers, Rogue, Kitty Pride, Boom-Boom and the others.

However they often get roped into trouble, like when Bobby, Meira, Cole and Jubilee decided to steal The X-Van for a drive as Hailey and Ethan had to stop them.

It was not fun! Thankfully Kurt was able to lend a helping hand and get everyone to safety.

Even if it was wild, they were a family of friends!

Speaking of families, one afternoon Hailey got home from shopping with Amara and the others when she spotted Charles and Erik sat on the couch alone chatting. She knew her father and Erik were old friends, some may even associate themselves as old flames, especially with Erik staying over a lot more often because of help with the students. But this was actually charming to see. She ushered the group to quietly across the living room, having to hush Kurt and Tabitha’s giggles to do, making their way to the kitchen.

Weeks went on, as she noticed the two got closer every visit. Ethan and her found it oddly enough satisfying to see their parents rekindle their old relationship. Because that meant they would be spending more time together and less time telling the students to go study.

The two friends made a silent promise to act like nothing happened and everything was right in the world every single time their parents hung out together. Other days it was obvious Charles and Erik were pleased to see one another and some days it seemed that they were hiding it very well. But everyone knew if their Professor

“Good morning, my darlings.” Charles said, rolled in one morning into the kitchen to get himself some coffee and smiled.

Hailey sat next to Amara sharing slices of bacon and replied, “Hey, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Bobby exclaimed, “Please no training with Scott! Logan at least makes us play outside!”

Kurt joked, “My tail is itching to go play in the pool later!”

“You just want to be around Tabitha again…” Ethan muttered biting into his toast.

Charles smiled and hushed their voices, “Now, now, children. I know we all plan on different activities for today and we will get to do the. But first Mr. Lehnsherr is coming over to have a language lesson for you all to practice.”

“Why do we need to learn another—ow!” Bobby exclaimed but was cut off by Ethan who elbowed him in the chest.

“You will all need learn to pick up another language besides English, because you never know where your next assignment would take you.” Charles explained smiling before rolling away, “Enjoy your breakfast!”

Some of the students all shared a few giggles and looks watching the professor roll away to his office. It was gonna be a great day!

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— Live Action vs Comic Look 📰

———-

Anyways let me know what you guys think 💭

Pls like, comment and share 🪄

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#x men 97 #x men comics #x men evolution #x men oc #mcu x oc #oc introduction #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #jean grey #scott summers #x men x reader #dadneto #original female character #x men fanfiction

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ichangedmycornyahhname · 1 year

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Spider-man!Hobie Brown x Reader

Side note: I did my best to keep reader gender neutral for everyone 🫶😍. Also made it more friendly than flirty. 😔 sorry y’all. (Basically more platonic, BUT if I make another I may make it romantic.)

Summary: Just reader and Hobie hopping dimensions and taking out bad guys.

Warnings: None? A little violence ig. Just reader and him bickering. Not proof read 🙁 I got lazy as hell.

“Yo Hob, where’s my mask at?” You asked as you watched yourself in the mirror. Your tooth brush sudsy with toothpaste as you quickly brushed at your teeth.

Crashing with Gwen and Hobie was certainly a risky decision to make, but with you always traversing the multi-verses you never stayed anywhere for too long. Which is why you were staying with the two. Well, staying with Hobie. Gwen was currently out on the hunt for a new anomaly, and you were eager to get to work with her.

“Didn’t you leave it on the couch?” He responded as he slipped his ripped leather jacket over his shoulders. The man was already geared up and ready to go. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.” You retorted with the roll of your eyes. You soon rinsed your mouth out with water and tossed your toothbrush into a cup. As you went to exit the bathroom, you took notice of the lack of toilet paper (courtesy of living with two other people), and sighed. “We need more toilet paper Hobie, we’ve already run out.”

He peeked his head throw the doorway, taking a glance at what you had mentioned and laughed. “Ain’t that something. We’ll buy some from a different universe, I’d rather not provide to this crappy economy. Now hurry it up mate, we’ve already got a mission.” You scoffed at his stubbornness as you headed towards the cluttered living area. Per-usual, it was a mess. But you didn’t have time for that now. You dug under piles of junk and gadgets until finally you got your hands on your mask. “Ew..” You grumbled as you stared at the ink stain on the side of your mask. Shooting a look towards Hobie, he only returned it with a grin before pulling his mask over his face.

“We’re cleaning this place up when we get back. Now let’s go.”

The two of you departed, a portal appearing in front of you. The dynamic shapes and colors had grown to be something of a norm to you, though you couldn’t say the same as you hopped through it and shot through the tunnel. It still managed to twist and turn your stomach up.

“I believe this is the place.” Hobie chimed as the two of you clung to a building side. “Ya think?” Hobie only chuckled at your sarcasm, having already grown quite used to it.

The evening sunset was almost as mesmerizing as the large mountain of houses. They followed along a road that spiraled all the way down to where they stood. It was like staring up at a giant version of the Aztec temples. “Sometimes I forget how different these universes can be. Alright Hobie, you know who we’re looking for so lead the way.”

He gave you a pat on the back before shooting out a web and pulling himself in the air. You could only smile at his playfulness and follow his movements, now swinging yourself towards the top of the mountain. The area was vibrant with warm colors, reds, blues, and green accenting the bright gold of the buildings. You’d been to plenty of universes, but none quite as beautiful as this. Smells of food, and seasonings flooded your nostrils, as well as the chattering of the busy streets. “Cool innit? Went here once with Gwendy, was a little preoccupied though.”

“With?” You questioned as you worked your way to the top of the mountain.

“This wild variant of the lizard. He was huge! More of a crocodile I’d say.” His enthusiastic attitude seemed to infect you, another smile creeping it’s way onto your face. “That sounds cool as hell. Yo is that who we’re looking for?” Your eyes widened as your spider sense raised your alert. Up ahead stood a large statue, though unlike usual statues, this one was moving. It worked at ripping a large jewel that stood at the very top of the mountain. Hobie, who had been swinging backwards, spun around, the lenses of his mask widening. Then they narrowed. He pulled his guitar from over his shoulder, holding it in one hand as he swung himself towards the golden statue. “Taking that as a yes.”

You webbed the side of two buildings, tugging at the webbing and slingshotting yourself towards the chaos. “I’ll get its legs, you- do whatever. I know you don’t like to listen.” You huffed out.

“You know me so well, love.” He said as he went to taking out the giant. You went to do the same, now swinging your webs around the statues legs. While at first your idea was working, the giant seemed to have a mind of its own. It ripped the webbing in half, but in doing so lost its balance. It tumbled, falling backwards and heading straight for the edge of the cliff. You tried not to panic, and Hobie was now joining you in stopping the giants potential destruction of the golden city. You worked at making a canopy between two poles, the wide wall of webs ready to catch the giant in its grasp.

Hobie stood at the top of a building, webs shot out to slow the giants fall. He strained, pulling back at the web lines. And it worked. The giant was caught in their web.

The two of you met up, now standing in the orange dirt with a victorious look. Then you glanced at one another. “High five?”

Their hands met, the sound of victory ringing in their ears. “High five. Hell yeah Y/N!” His arm found its way around your shoulders, tugging you closer as he spouted jokes. However, you interrupted, “We still have to clean up when we get back.” Hobie’s jubilant expression turned unamused, and he sucked his teeth sighing at your seriousness.

“We really gotta loosen you up love. Now let’s get this guy back in his universe.” His thick accent made it difficult for you to comprehend at first, but once you did, you nodded. The two of you had completed your mission, unscathed, and with time to spare. You were certainly impressed with your efficient work.

#x reader #fluff #spider-punk #Spider-Man #spider-punk x reader #spider man across the spider verse

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kallie-den · 2 months

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Preyblood

After drinking her prey’s corrupted blood, a vampire hunter discovers who the real predator is as feelings of love and hate for the vampire begin to blur

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As Emily was swallowed up by the club, with all its riotous colors and dancing, pounding music, and sinuous writhing of bodies, she clutched the wooden stake tight in her hand. She hated hunting in places like this. It set all her old military instincts on edge. Watch your six, check the corners, keep line-of-sight to the exits - none of that made any sense in such a chaotic environment. She couldn’t control what was going on around her. It made her feel defenseless.

Emily ran her fingers up and down the stake in her hand, taking a moment to feel the grain of the wood and remind herself of its heft. No, she told herself. She wasn’t the defenseless one here.

She was the hunter. And the vampire nesting here was her prey.

It was a typical enough haunt for a bloodsucker. Dark, sensual, open all night, lots of potential, pliable victims. An ideal hunting ground. This one, in particular, was a lesbian club, and Emily had to grant the vampire a little grudging respect for that. It was the kind of place she might have enjoyed spending time herself if she wasn’t on the hunt. Picking up a girl was a nice way to blow off steam, and what kind of lesbian wouldn’t go for a tall, strong, athletic dyke in a leather jacket and combat boots? Just as long as they didn’t mind that she was trans, anyway.

But that would have to wait for another night. Tonight, Emily could afford no distractions. She was an experienced hunter, but vampires were never easy to bring down. Emily kept her ears strained to hear over the loud music, and she kept scanning the room, searching for the slightest hint of reddened eyes or sharpened fangs. Nothing yet. In all likelihood, the creature was holed up in a private room out back or on the floors above. That was their usual way: a quiet little den, a place to sleep through the day and feed undisturbed at night. So, slowly and cautiously, Emily started making her way towards the back of the club, although she had to struggle to push her way through the tight crush of dancing bodies, made strange and hard to track by the dim, shifting, flickering, multi-colored club lights.

“Hello there, stranger,” someone whispered in her ear. “Are you looking for a good time?”

Without warning, some girl - drunk, probably - was draped across Emily’s shoulder. Emily did her best to brush her off, but the girl was clinging to her tight, entangling their limbs together.

“Hey,” the girl drawled insistently. “There’s no need to be so rude!”

“Not tonight,” Emily grunted. “Busy. Out of my way.”

The girl didn’t budge. Wary of distractions, Emily kept scanning the club. The girl was pressed up to her side, and all Emily saw of her was a shock of long, curly, red hair. Still no sign of the bloodsucker.

“Come on now.” The girl was purring right into her ear now. Her words sounded strange; it was as if she had a hint of some weird, old-timey accent. Maybe she was on something. “What’s the hurry?”

“Looking for someone,” Emily replied. She couldn’t spare the energy to think of a lie.

“Aww!” The stranger made a pouty noise. Emily still couldn’t seem to shake her off. She was surprisingly strong and clingy, for a party girl. “You’re all taken already? I can’t have you?”

“Not tonight.”

“Who you looking for?” the girl whined.

Emily sighed. Maybe if she just answered, the girl would leave her alone.

“Letitia,” she said. “Letitia Clarendon. Know her?”

“Oh!” the girl replied brightly. “In that case, I guess you’re all mine after all!”

A single heartbeat after all the alarm bells sounded in Emily’s head, she felt two sharp fangs plunge into her neck.

Emily didn’t scream. She was far too much of a pro for that. All around her, people kept drinking, dancing, laughing - but the vampire hunter was keenly aware of the fact that she was in dire danger. Emily turned, thrashing, elbowing - but now the vampire was using all her unholy strength, and Emily could already feel the creature’s soporific venom spreading through her body.

With each drop of blood Letitia Clarendon sucked from her veins, the vampire grew stronger, and Emily grew weaker.

“Get the fuck off me!” Emily roared. Mustering all her strength, she managed to wrench her body forward, out of the vampire’s grasp. Emily had time to let out a single gasp of relief, before wheeling to face her foe, stake raised.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Letitia sang. As lights flickered on, Emily saw pale skin, red lips, a wide smile, and blood. “I like it rough, see. And I think I’d like to keep you.”

Emily was ready to strike. She was ready to defend. She wasn’t ready for the vampire to surge forward and kiss her.

She felt the bloodsucker’s lips against her own before she knew what was happening. The vampire was a formidable kisser, despite her grave-cold flesh; she teased Emily’s lips apart effortlessly, and the vampire hunter found her mouth invaded by a tongue that was unnaturally long and impossibly nimble.

And that was coated in something that tasted of iron and sin.

A little of it had already trickled down Emily’s throat before she figured out what it was. Blood. And not her own. Not human. No, there was something distinctly unnatural about the taste. The vampire must have pricked her tongue on her own fang as she moved in for the kiss.

She was feeding Emily vampire’s blood. Vitae.

Emily recoiled violently at the sensation of that poison being poured down her throat. She tried to make herself choke it up, but the vitae was somehow sticky and slick in equal measure, and with the vampire’s tongue prying her throat open, Emily couldn’t keep it up. Letitia’s kiss was equally as inescapable. She was wrapped around Emily like a serpent, coiling tight, clinging, somehow guiding Emily as the two of them stumbled and struggled.

“Come now.” Letitia drew back, just barely, so she could hiss to Emily. Her voice was dripping with sour candy. “Let us get to know each other somewhere a little more private.”

Before Emily could spit a reply, the vampire’s tongue was back in her mouth, pumping even more of her poison past the hunter’s lips. Emily was still trying to throw her off, but something about the blood she was unwillingly imbibing was robbing her of her strength. Her vision was blurring, and she was finding it hard to resist as Letitia dragged her through the club and out towards the back rooms.

To anyone else, they probably just looked like one more pair of drunk, horny, stumbling lesbians.

Once the vampire finally drew back and allowed Emily to take a breath, the two of them were in a large, private room, luxuriously decorated, illuminated by low, steady, yellow lamps. Emily bent double and heaved, trying to will her body to expel everything she’d just drunk. It didn’t work.

“My, my,” Letitia purred. “Aren’t you a strapping thing?”

Emily looked up and, for the first time, got a real look at her prey.

Letitia Clarendon, vampire, was around a hundred years old, and came from an upper-class, old-money background. That was about all Emily’s research had given her. The real thing certainly bore that out. Letitia was only medium-height, but she certainly carried herself like an aristocrat. She had long, red, rich, curly hair, high, arching cheekbones, and freckled, milk-pale skin, lit within by a slight, pink blush that Emily knew came only from the blood the vampire had just drunk. She had an aristocrat's figure, too; plump from indulgence, and all the more alluring for it.

For a moment, Emily was struck by the odd notion that, in another life, Letitia could have made for a perfect farmgirl. Soft, rosy, warm, sun-kissed. Instead, she was a pale, immortal predator from another age.

Letitia’s attire - a floor-length dress, accented by no small amount of jeweled finery - was just as old-fashioned as her accent, but thanks to a few modern touches, probably let her pass herself off as some kind of devoted subculture fashionista. Anyone who looked too closely, though, would be sure to see that her apparent humanity was nothing more than a paper-thin veneer spread across undeniable monstrosity. Her eyes gleamed with a wicked, red light, she had a corpse’s countenance, and two of her teeth were far, far too long to be natural. Still, there was an undeniable, elfen beauty to her undeath that stirred even Emily. She was having a hard time peeling her gaze away from the vampire’s figure.

But more than anything else, Emily hated her. She simply hated her.

It didn’t matter what they looked like. She hated every single one of those bloodsuckers. Emily had vowed to devote her life to hunting them down. Letitia Clarendon had already given her more trouble than any yet - but Emily was sure she could still put her down. A little exchanged blood didn’t change a thing.

The stake in her hand was still sharp, and Emily still had the strength to lift it. That was all that counted.

“Darling,” Letitia drawled, as Emily raised her weapon, “if you wanted to dance, you ought to have simply asked. You really are my type.”

Emily’s lips pulled back into a snarl. “Funny. Real funny.”

“Oh, darling,” Letitia tutted. “Who’s joking? You’re really quite the kisser, you know. Enthusiastic. I enjoyed it.”

The vampire made a show of opening her mouth and letting her elongated drool out of her mouth, dripping some of her own black vitae onto the floor. As she lapped at her own fangs, polishing them clean, Emily was embarrassed to note a strange shiver race down her spine. She thought, unwillingly, about just how dexterous that organ was, and about how it had felt when it had forced its way into her mouth and down her throat.

Then she thought about how much of the vampire’s blood she’d drunk. She’d heard stories, of course. Dependency. Thralldom. She didn’t know exactly how much vitae that required, or exactly how much she’d drunk. Was it already doing something to her?

With all her being, Emily rejected that. She summoned up all her hate for the unholy, predatory creature standing before her, and spat it in her face.

“Fuck you.” Emily’s voice came out alarmingly thick. “Go fuck yourself.”

Joy danced in Letitia’s eyes. “You’d enjoy watching that, I’m sure.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Even more than you enjoyed our kiss, perhaps.”

“Bullshit! Fuck you!” Why was it suddenly so hard for Emily to find her fire?

“Oh, darling.” Letitia licked her lips. Another treasonous shiver. “I can see for myself that you’re not being truthful. Slut.”

Her eyes flicked down pointedly as she spat out that last, pointed syllable. Emily couldn’t help but look down too, following the vampire’s gaze. Once she saw it, her cheeks started to burn.

Emily was hard.

Despite the folds in her loose combat pants, it was unmistakable. Emily was hard. Harder than she’d ever been, maybe. At once, her bravado was undercut by embarrassment. Suddenly, the nature of her distraction was so much clearer. Emily’s overpowering attraction to the vampire standing before her was buzzing in the back of her brain.

Emily immediately started flailing for an explanation. She was a lesbian, yes, but this was more than that. Normally, she would never allow herself to feel such longing for an undead monster like Letitia.

“Who cares?” Emily spat, with a fierceness she was no longer sure she felt. “You’re about to be dust.”

Letitia let out a loud, shrill laugh. “My! You really are something.” She licked her lips once more. “Yes. Yes, I really must make you mine.”

Emily snarled furiously. She decided to end this before the vampire could confuse her any further. Drawing on all her strength, all her hate, Emily raised her stake and charged forward. Vampires could be inhumanly fast, but Emily’s combat instincts were honed to a razor’s sharpness. She crossed the short distance between them in no time at all. As the tip of Emily’s stake scythed through the air, towards Letitia’s chest, she rejoiced as she saw that the vampire hadn’t even raised a hand to defend herself.

Typical bloodsucker. Too cocky, and too slow when it really counted. It was already over.

Then, Emily’s arm froze.

It took her a long moment to realize what had happened. At first, Emily thought that she’d hit some kind of forcefield, or perhaps that time itself had ground to a halt. Eventually, though, she realized that her muscles had simply locked up. Her limbs felt like iron girders. They refused to obey her commands, and Emily was left standing there like a scarecrow, paralyzed, stake held mere inches from its target.

Letitia’s lips curled up into a smirk.

“W-what did you do to me?” Emily whispered. For the first time ever, she felt powerless on a hunt.

“You’re taking to it well,” Letitia noted, pleased. “Yes. Yes, I think we’re going to get along beautifully, darling hunter.”

The savage confidence in Letitia’s voice made Emily step backward. Discovering she could move again restored her confidence, but that drained away again just as quickly when she realized that she still couldn’t strike at Letitia. Every time she tried, her body rebelled. Something inside her was fighting Emily’s commands. It was like there was something black and wet wrapped around her spine, pulling her nerve endings like strings, formed of an inexplicable reluctance to hurt the monstrous creature bearing down on her.

The vitae. It had to be.

“What’s the matter, hunter?” Letitia chided. She took one step forward; Emily, one back. “Where’s that adorable confidence? Where’s that strength now?”

Emily opened her mouth, but all that came out was a strangled grunt. She kept backing away, but Letitia kept coming, and all that came into Emily’s head were useless, childish protestations at the unfairness of the vampire’s power.

Those, and stray, unwelcome observations about her unnatural beauty.

“Come now,” Letitia chided. “Don’t run. Let me get a proper taste of you.”

Emily felt her back hit the wall. Nowhere left to run. Some hunter.

“Don’t worry.” Letitia’s smile made her fangs look sharper than ever. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Until the bitter end, Emily tried to make herself strike at Letitia, but it was useless. Once the vampire’s fangs pierced her jugular, even that rebellious urge drained away. By the time Letitia started feeding Emily more of her vitae, the hunter was far too weak to do anything but lap it up.

Shamefully, despite the blood loss, she remained hard the entire time.

***

Without real energy or enthusiasm, Emily once again yanked at the sturdy, iron chain binding her to the wall. Sitting, slumped, she watched forlornly as, unsurprisingly, the bracket didn’t even budge.

There was no escape. But then, Emily had already figured that out a long time ago.

It had been weeks. At least, Emily thought so. All she had to count by were the glimmers of sunlight that passed through the cracks in the paint on the blacked-out windows, but she was starting to lose track of exactly how many nights it had been. At first, things like that had seemed important - counting the days, figuring out where she was and how to get away. Emily had the sense that she was somewhere high up, perhaps in the disused rooms a few floors up from Letitia’s club. But over time, fear and boredom had given way to a kind of haze in which nothing mattered at all. She’d even abandoned the exercise regimen she’d planned to keep herself in fighting form for when the vampire came.

But when she came, there was never any question of fighting.

Letitia’s irregular appearances were the only times anything at all seemed to matter. They were the only times Emily felt alive. Every time her ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps, Emily’s breast swelled with a sick kind of anticipation, knowing that as soon as that strange, aristocratic creature appeared, Emily’s heart would begin to pound again with a heady, uncomfortable mixture of hate and admiration.

It was the only thing she seemed to feel at all, anymore. There was nothing else. Letitia Clarendon’s twisted gift had seen to that. Her unholy blood. Emily could feel the inky, black substance inside her, gnawing at her, hollowing her out. It was the stuff of her worst nightmares.

Emily didn’t know how to fight it. All she knew was that she had to hold on to what she was sure of: her purpose as a hunter, and her violent hatred for the bloodsucker keeping her captive.

How long? That was the question she kept asking herself. How long until someone came for her? How long until she was rescued? Only, over time, as hope had grown fainter and fainter, that question had started to change. To mutate.

How long until Letitia comes to see her again?

A footstep. At once, Emily’s pulse quickened. She was sure that a creature like Letitia could move silently, if she chose, but she couldn’t help but be grateful that Letitia allowed Emily to prepare for her coming. To savor the anticipation. Emily drew herself upright, back resting against the wall, and listened to the steps getting closer.

In the last moment before the door opened, Emily found herself grinning.

Letitia Clarendon swept into the room like the night. She was dressed, as usual, in a huge, sweeping, Victorian dress, and adorned in other, equally-archaic finery. Her fashion, it seemed, had never quite kept up with the times. She was sharp, though. Emily knew that much. Letitia knew exactly how she looked, and how best to turn it to her advantage.

There was a gleeful spring in the vampire’s step, like coming to see Emily was the highlight of her night. Emily couldn’t help but feel a little appreciative of that. By the same token, being in the same room as Letitia made Emily feel sharper. On edge. Alive. It was a chance for her to spit her fire at the bloodsucker holding her captive. To assert herself. To hear her own voice spoken out loud without talking to herself like a crazy person.

And a chance to look. Letitia Clarendon really was astonishingly beautiful. More and more, as nights passed, Emily found herself dwelling on it. She’d given up pretending she wasn’t stirred by the vampire’s appearance. By her sensual presence. The evidence was all too pressing.

Emily kept insisting to herself that it was just because she was a lesbian, and just because she didn’t have anything else to think about. That was why couldn’t help gratifying herself to the thought of Letitia between visits.

“Good evening, Emily,” Letitia greeted her, smiling. Showing teeth. “How is my hunter this fine evening?”

As she spoke, Emily noticed a fleck of crimson on the tip of one of her fangs. It made bile and choler rise in her throat.

“Not bad,” Emily spat defiantly. She was still grinning. “Strong. How about you let me out of these chains and we can find out?”

Letitia let out a merry laugh. “Good, good! I’m glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want you to lose that fine spirit of yours.”

It was incredible how everything came into focus when Letitia was around. Suddenly, Emily’s tongue cracked like a whip. She could feel sparks in her belly. It was so much better than all that numbness. Emily had to remind herself, forcefully, that the vampire’s presence was no kindness. It was deceptively easy to forget that. Letitia Clarendon was coated with candy. Her words were thick with an overbearing sweetness that belied the malice beneath.

Emily knew better than to be fooled by such a transparently two-faced demeanor. But with Letitia, there was something slippery about it. Her presence was so undeniably pleasant and it was somehow a constant temptation to slip beneath the vampire’s flow; to take her pretty face and easy smile at face value. To treat her like a friend or a lover, instead of a captor.

To forget what she was.

Again and again, Emily had to remind herself she was dealing with a monstrous predator. Why was it so easy to lose sight of that?

Probably because of her beauty.

“Of course not,” Emily growled. “Why? What are you keeping me here for?”

“Why?” Letitia blinked at her, eyes guileless. “For the pleasure of your company, of course.”

Her beauty was oppressive. It weighed heavy on Emily’s shoulders. Frankly, she wasn’t sure how she’d ever been so oblivious to it. Emily had noticed, certainly, but somehow, on the first night, she hadn’t been dazzled by it. Letitia’s true beauty hadn’t quite struck her. Now, it was different. Just being in the same room as the vampire was distracting. What Emily had first deemed ghoulish about Letitia’s undead features, she’d now come to accept was simply her own difficulty coming to terms with physical perfection.

Yes, Letitia was perfect. Her cheekbones, her complexions, her long tongue and teeth, her ethereal red eyes - all of it was perfect. Her beauty was beyond human.

Perhaps that was why it was so treasonously tempting to just say ‘yes’ to her.

“Bullshit,” Emily spat. She refused to give in to that instinct. “I know your type. You’re hungry. Always hungry. If you’re not drinking me dry, there’s gotta be a good reason for it.”

Again, Letitia laughed merrily. She always seemed so carefree. It kept Emily wondering: what if she could find something sharp? What if she could lure the vampire just a little closer?

“I suppose you’re right,” Letitia admitted. “It’s true. I have my reasons. You see, you have something I want.”

Emily was all ears. “And what’s that?”

“I already told you,” Letitia replied. “Your spirit. You see, it really is so hard to find good servants these days.”

For five solid seconds, Emily just blinked. Then she scrunched up her face in disgust and started guffawing.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” she spat, between laughs. “Me? Serving you? That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Letitia’s confidence was unmarred by Emily’s open mockery. “I hardly think so. You see, at my side, you could be magnificent. I have use for a hunter. I want you - and I always get what I want.”

Her smugness was insufferable - but beneath that, Emily couldn’t help feeling ever so slightly flattered. Letitia Clarendon wanted her. Of all people - her. It was an intoxicating notion. There was a certain pride to be taken in it, even. Part of Emily badly wanted to ask: why? Was it her looks? Her skills? Something more?

But she had more dignity than that. “Let’s get one thing straight, bloodsucker,” Emily made her gaze steel as she stared into Letitia’s eyes. “I hate your kind. I hate you. And no matter what, as long as I live, I will never, ever serve you.”

“Really?” Letitia raised an eyebrow, and then a hand.

“Yes, damn you!” Emily roared. “You fucking disgust me, vampire. I would sooner die than… I’d never… never…”

Her words died. Her eyes betrayed her, and she gave way in their little staring contest of wills. Instead, her vision locked onto something else: the little drop of black blood, welling up from where Letitia had pricked her finger on one of her talons.

And there it was again. The need.

Most of the time, during her captivity, Emily had been free from want and need. She’d felt nothing. No appetite. No hunger. But when Letitia confronted her with the vampire’s vitae, it all came roaring back. Suddenly, Emily became conscious of just how long it had been since any food had passed her lips. Her stomach, cavernous and empty, began to eat at her from the inside. A piercing, debilitating awareness of her own weakness washed over Emily. The hunter felt faint, pale, sluggish. Like she could barely move.

But one drop could fix all that. Just one drop.

Emily felt the chain pull taut around her ankle. She looked down, and realized that she’d already been crawling forward.

“I’m sorry?” Letitia said sweetly. “What was that you were saying?”

A whine forced its way past Emily’s lips. It had been like this ever since that first night. The very first drop of Letitia’s unholy blood, given in a kiss, had taken root inside Emily like a poisoned seed. Most of the time, she managed not to dwell on it. The cravings. The addiction. After each visit, she promised the next would be different. She promised she’d be tougher. Stronger. Sterner with herself. That she’d find the courage to say ‘no’ to Letitia.

Those promises were melting all around her.

At first, she’d fought tooth and nail to stop Letitia from force-feeding her the vitae. But the vampire, flush with fresh blood and unnatural strength, had always won, and so somehow, eventually, Emily had given up resisting. She’d just allowed it to happen. And then, before she’d realized what was happening, it had become too late.

“I…” Emily found herself saying. Her words came out wet and thick. She was salivating like a dog.

“I suppose there is something else I want,” Letitia mused, as if she was oblivious to Emily’s plight. “Besides your spirit, I mean. Something very important.”

An offhand gesture sent a single, tiny droplet of Letitia’s blood spilling onto the ground. Emily watched it fall in slow motion, unable to stop it. As it splashed uselessly across the dirty floorboards, Emily let out a weak, keening cry. In moments it was gone, absorbed into the sawdust.

“I need your spirit,” Letitia told her, “and I need your love.”

That word caught Emily’s attention. She looked up at the vampire, dumbfounded.

“L… love?” she bleated.

“Do you know why dogs are so wonderfully obedient to their masters?” A touch of madness glinted in Letitia’s crimson eyes. “Because they love them.”

As hard as it was to feel anything but worship while she was in the throes of addiction, that comment made Emily indignant. “I’m not a goddamn dog.”

Letitia ignored her. “Do you know why dogs love their masters?” she asked. “Because they feed them. It’s that simple.”

Emily barked a laugh. Her head was swimming. Above her, Letitia shone like the moon. Every clear thought was a struggle.

“You’re crazy,” Emily spat.

“And you’re hungry,” Letitia replied.

Before Emily could form a retort, Letitia took a step towards and held her hand out towards the captive hunter. Instantly, Emily’s world shrank to a single point. The little back droplets welling up on the vampire’s finger were the only things that mattered. It was so close now, Emily could even smell it. The scent was more intoxicating than anything else; the iron, and the hint of something darker beneath. Emily was starting to drool down her chin.

“That’s better,” Letitia soothed. “Would you like a taste, my dear hunter?”

Without thinking, Emily nodded. She wasn’t even ashamed of herself for doing so. Raw hunger was the only thing left in her head.

“Then taste.” Letitia moved closer still, holding her hand down at the level of her hips. “Drink.”

Emily’s brow furrowed in confusion. Usually, when Letitia visited her, she poured her blood into a dish and offered it to Emily. Sometimes, she simply overpowered the hunter and forced her into another twisted kiss. This was new.

“H… how?” Emily asked, tongue wet. She already knew the answer.

“Drink,” Letitia repeated.

She didn’t explain. She didn’t need to. It only took a few more moments for Emily’s hunger to overpower her better judgment.

Emily stretched forward and wrapped her lips around Letitia’s bloody finger.

She suckled with the starving fervor of a newborn babe. It tasted every bit as good as she’d known it would. Just a few drops of the vampire’s blood were all it took to infuse Emily’s entire body with energy. She felt like she could run a marathon, or climb a sheer cliff face. She felt like she could fly.

She felt amazing.

Nothing could pierce that euphoria. Not shame, nor humiliation, nor the bitter sting of defeat. Emily was immune to those. She was on cloud nine. Emily kept licking and sucking, unwilling to let even the smallest droplet of Letitia’s ambrosia go to waste. She lavished the vampire’s skin with worshipful attention, kissing and licking every inch of her finger until it was clean. Letitia even helped, pumping her finger backward and forward, in and out of Emily’s mouth. Distantly, as if it was coming from far away, Emily heard the vampire’s laugh.

It didn’t matter. In that moment, all she could feel towards Letitia was an overbearing sense of gratitude.

Emily stopped once it became obvious that the small cut on Letitia’s finger had healed minutes ago. The hunter slumped backward and shivered rapturously as vitae coursed throughout her body. There was no feeling like this. No drug or high came even close.

“Well,” Letitia remarked mirthfully, “I don’t know about your spirit. But I see that your energy is certainly undiminished.”

Emily knew at once what she was referring to. As always, after a feeding, Emily was rock hard and tenting her pants. She couldn’t help it. Letitia’s blood left her infused with vigor - and besides, the vampire’s beauty seemed to grow after each meal. Emily felt like she could stare at Letitia forever, admiring her like a work of art. It was so strange, that such a dark creature would look so angelic.

“I’ll give you some more time to yourself,” Letitia announced, and spun to face the doorway. “To… contemplate your situation.”

Her sudden absence dimmed Emily’s blissful mood a little. It wasn’t long before the effects of the blood wore off, and Emily was left, once again, ashamed of her weakness and conscious of her own thirst. She knew the vitae was doing something to her. After each twisted feeding, she could feel something growing inside her. A kind of foreign influence, utterly alien to her true desires, but terrifyingly seductive and potent. It was nursing a kind of obsession for Letitia Clarendon; a violent one, perhaps, but still, a passionate one.

It was the kind of thing that might give birth to the very worst kind of love.

Emily had to stop. She knew she had to stop. Next time, she had to find a way to avoid drinking Letitia’s blood.

But somehow, as the minutes wore on, that thought slipped through her fingers, while the bittersweet memory of her captor’s face burned bright in her head, distracting her, luring her hand between her legs to deal with her sudden need.

It wasn’t long before she was counting down the time until Letitia might visit her again.

***

Emily didn’t look at the girl’s face. She refused to. She didn’t want to remember it. She didn’t want that face to haunt her, as others had. But, as ever, Letitia was kind. As she kept one hand clasped around the girl’s throat, she offered the other, dripping with vitae, toward Emily. As always, the former hunter was instantly transfixed by the mere sight of the substance. It helped her to block out everything else that was going on.

At least there was no whimpering or screaming. Mercifully, Letitia had somehow stunned her prey into submission. The poor, innocent thing remained calm, a vacant, dreamlike smile on her face, even as the vampire started tearing into her throat.

Emily flinched, but she still didn’t look. She kept her eyes on Letitia’s black-coated fingertips.

The first time Letitia had brought prey to Emily’s room, she’d been confused. When Letitia’s intentions had become clear, Emily had even managed to find some of her old fire, dampened though it was by weeks and weeks of starved apathy.

It had been useless, of course. Emily wasn’t chained up anymore - though she didn’t remember being freed, either - but Letitia had quickly taught her that resistance was meaningless.

And anyway, Emily couldn’t really bring herself to fight Letitia. Not anymore.

There was a splatter and a spurt, as Letitia’s fangs pierced the jugular. It churned Emily’s stomach, but she ignored it. She just sat waiting, peaceful and patient, exactly the way the vampire wanted.

Emily knew what was happening, of course. She was too smart not to, and besides, Letitia had made no real secret of her plans. It was simple exposure therapy. A way to desensitize her to the vampire’s true nature, and to progressively erode Emily’s convictions. After all, it was difficult to stand up against something when you’d been a silent, tacitly accepting bystander to it time and time again.

Emily knew what was happening. The problem was that she couldn’t seem to make herself care.

She’d long since given up on keeping track of how long she’d been held captive by Letitia - if ‘captive’ was even the right word anymore. She could leave whenever she wanted, but Letitia had made it clear that if she left, she’d never see or taste the vampire ever again. And for no more than that, Emily had stayed in that dark, squalid room, enduring countless hours of numbness and boredom that ground her down into a shadow of who she’d once been. All that was left were her feelings for Letitia.

She didn’t care about anything except Letitia anymore.

With a loud, wet smack, Letitia withdrew her fangs from the drained girl’s neck. A single, offhanded shove sent her sprawling to the ground, spent. Emily flinched - but she still didn’t look.

Letitia nodded approvingly at her stillness. “Good,” the vampire told her. “Very good.”

Pride, just as poisonous as any unholy blood, started to glow within Emily. She couldn’t help but be proud. Being praised by a creature like Letitia was a wonder. Her beauty was indescribable. She was more like a goddess than a mere mortal being like Emily.

“Drink up.” Letitia thrust her hand toward Emily. “You’ve earned it.”

Emily’s composure broke in an instant. Her meek stillness was gone, replaced by an unnatural voracity. Emily fed like an animal, lapping, licking, kissing, sucking - lavishing her new master’s skin with worshipful attention, and then, once all the vampire’s blood was gone, licking it clean of her own unworthy saliva.

She smiled. There it was again. Bliss.

Letitia took a moment to brush her fingertips affectionately across Emily’s cheek. It had become a little ritual of hers, after each feeding. A way to bond with her new pet.

“Yes, you’re coming along nicely,” Letitia mused. “Aren’t you?”

Emily blushed, flustered. Letitia was talking to her the way someone might a puppy, but Emily could feel nothing but warmth.

“Yes,” she muttered. “T-thank you.”

Letitia raised an eyebrow. She seemed pleased.

“And still… energetic, I see,” she remarked, eyes flicking downward.

Emily was hard. She always was, when Letitia graced her with her attention. Emily had given up on pleasuring herself - it didn’t seem to satisfy, without the vampire’s presence - but now that her belly was full of black blood, she was conscious of her own, desperate need.

“Do you remember,” Letitia asked her, “what I called you, the first night that we met?”

Emily nodded. Every detail of that encounter was burned into her brain. The memory was steadily supplanting all memories that had come before. It was the moment she’d begun.

“Yes,” Emily replied, voice stilted and meek. “A slut.”

“And I was right, wasn’t I?”

Before Emily could agree, Letitia stepped forward and, balancing on one leg for a moment, brought her other foot down to press against the stiff tent of Emily’s cock.

Emily gasped. She saw white. She looked up in awed confusion. The former hunter had never dared to dream that Letitia would touch like that.

“Wasn’t I?” Letitia repeated.

“Y-yes!” Emily gasped urgently. Letitia was barely touching her, but the pleasure was unbelievable. The sole of her foot felt better than any other girl ever had.

“Good girl.”

Letitia nodded in a way that Emily somehow knew meant permission, and without hesitation, Emily started to buck her hips and hump Letitia’s foot.

“Oh my god…” Emily panted. She was practically weeping with joy. Touching Letitia like that was transcendent. “O-oh my god.”

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for her to reach her peak. Emily had once been a lot of things - a hunter, a stud, a top - but now all that was gone, and all that mattered was Letitia was rewarding her with this. The symbolism was more important than the sensation. A being as great and as beautiful as Letitia Clarendon had decided Emily deserved to feel something good. Even the condescending sneer on the vampire’s face was perfect. It helped to remind Emily of what she was.

A pet. A dog. A thrall.

And if she was that, nothing else she did really mattered.

Entranced by the thought, Emily kept rutting and humping, her moans and grunts becoming ever more desperate and animalistic. She was trapped; she was too desperate to stop, but she couldn’t continue for much longer, but she couldn’t even conceive of finishing without Letitia’s permission.

Eventually, Letitia set her free. “You may,” she pronounced, with a slight nod of her head.

With a ragged moan, Emily came. Letitia took her foot away at the last moment, and so the former hunter only succeeded in making a mess of her own, filthy clothing. Emily expected shame to follow on the heels of her orgasm, but no. Letitia’s presence kept that at bay as well, and as Emily basked in the afterglow of her reward, the vampire bent down to stare intently into her soul.

“Yes,” Letitia mused, a smile on her face. “I think you’re almost ready. There it is. Coming along nicely.”

Emily knew instinctively what she was referring to. She could feel it growing within herself, black and sickly, and all for her new master.

Love.

***

Instinctively, Emily squeezed the stake in her hand. It felt good. Comforting. Familiar. Even after all that had transpired, a few things still hadn’t changed.

That was a nice lie she could tell herself.

In any case, many more things had. Emily wasn’t stuck in that room anymore. She wasn’t wearing her old, now-filthy clothes either. She’d replaced her old look with one that was new and slick: a black suit, nicely tailored, cut slightly feminine, complete with tie and perfect white shirt.

It was exactly the way Lady Letitia liked her.

“Come on,” Emily called, raising her voice so it could be heard over the club music. “This way.”

“Right,” the other hunter nodded, following closely behind. “Are you sure she’ll be there?”

“Yes,” Emily replied. “At this time of night, the bloodsucker’s always in her lair.”

Emily twitched and scratched a phantom itch at her neck.

“Got it,” the other hunter replied. The girl was painfully young, and too trusting. “If you know where she sleeps, I’m surprised you need me. I’d always heard you worked alone.”

“She’s strong,” Emily replied simply. “I wanted backup.”

“Right.” Emily glanced over her shoulder, and saw a faint, bashful smile appear on the other hunter’s face. “I’m flattered you picked a newbie like me.”

That tugged at Emily’s heartstrings for a moment, before she shoved the guilt way down. Beneath the hunger.

“Focus,” Emily warned, as she led the other girl through the crush of dancing bodies, toward a dark doorway at the back of the club. “It’s dangerous here.”

The other girl nodded. Both of them clutched at their stakes. Emily’s heart was pounding, but not from danger. Not from guilt, either.

From anticipation.

The two of them entered the doorway and proceeded down a dimly lit corridor, the sounds of the club steadily dying away. Then Emily came to a halt and indicated a door.

“She’s in here,” Emily hissed. “You first. I’ll watch your back.”

The other girl nodded. After a moment of hesitation, of gathering up her courage, she opened the door and walked inside. Emily followed her a few paces behind and slipped her stake back into the inside pocket of her jacket.

And nodded to Lady Letitia, lurking in the shadows.

In an instant, the vampire was on top of the blindsided hunter. The poor girl barely had time to scream before Lady Letitia’s fangs pierced her throat and sucked dry her veins. After a few seconds of useless spasming, the stake rolled out of her open hand and clattered to the ground. The girl’s pale, dry, cold body followed soon after.

Emily only twitched a little. She could even look at their faces now.

But she didn’t need to. Not for more than a moment, anyway. Soon, Lady Letitia turned to Emily and smiled, blood still dripping from her fanged maw. Emily didn’t care about that, though. She just cared that her master was smiling.

“Well done,” Lady Letitia told her, “my hunter.”

Yes, Emily was still a hunter. She even hunted vampires, sometimes - Lady Letitia had rivals, after all - but mortals had become her usual prey. She helped to drive them into Lady Letitia’s cruel embrace, keeping the area free of genuine vampire hunters in the process.

Still a hunter - by some measures, anyway. But more than anything, Emily was simply a thrall.

“My lady.”

In a single, smooth motion, long-practiced, Emily dropped to one knee and bowed her head before her master. It was only right to lower herself before a being as beautiful and superior as Lady Letitia. Emily served her in all things. It was the only thing that gave her life a sense of purpose. The only thing that delivered her, even temporarily, from the gnawing numbness that had consumed everything else about Emily.

And there was the hunger, of course. Only Lady Letitia could sate that. But Emily no longer received the gift of her unholy blood every night, or after every service. Lady Letitia had trained her well. The vampire’s approval was all the reward Emily needed.

Like a dog with Pavlov’s bell.

"Thank you,” Lady Letitia said softly, “for my meal. You’ve proven yourself to be every bit the servant I hoped you’d be.”

“Thank you,” Emily whispered. The force of her master’s praise was enough to make her weep. She had to keep her face turned down, or else Lady Letitia’s beauty would overwhelm her. “Thank you, my lady.”

With her head bowed, she could see the body of the other hunter, lying just a short distance away. More and more, its presence started to eat at Emily. It stirred memories of another life. A life in which she’d protected people from vampires, instead of luring them into the predator’s lair. Emily could remember a former version of herself, one who would have been outraged and disgusted at what the fallen hunter had become.

Did that mean something? Wasn’t all of this terribly, terribly wrong?

Emily felt herself starting to panic. Her breaths came up short, and her pulse quickened as she fought with herself to fill her lungs with air. What was she doing? Why was she doing any of this? The doubts were suddenly swimming around her, eating at her, but within, something dark and wet and equally vicious was fighting back. The corruption nested in Emily’s bosom, the part of her that longed for Letitia, refused to let her go. Those two conflicting forces made a battleground of her soul, all but paralyzing her with sudden indecision.

Her hand trembled. Her stake was right there. Within reach. Couldn’t she just-

A familiar touch to Emily’s cheek stirred her from those unwelcome thoughts. In her usual, ritual way, Lady Letitia stroked her thrall’s face and guided her eyes upward, until Emily was staring into the vampire’s impossibly beautiful visage. Her fangs, her tongue, her eyes - Emily was captivated by all of it.

A single moment of being caressed by the vampiric master she now adored was all it took to remind the fallen hunter: she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Everything else was simply a delusion Lady Letitia had been kind enough to free Emily from.

The vampire’s touch left her hard, too. It always did. Emily had always been weak to beautiful women, and her thralldom had given the lesbian a singular, erotic fixation on her master. Lady Letitia noticed immediately and licked her lips pointedly, spreading blood across her face.

“Rise,” she bade, “and come with me. I require your service in other ways.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Emily rose to her feet and, misgivings forgotten, stepped over the other hunter’s limp body as she followed her master to her coffin chamber.

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, Red, dmtph, MegatronTarantulas, Vanessa, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, Neana, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, Michael, Be_Be, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Slifer274, Roxxie, Phoenix, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Yaoups, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Bouncyrou, Anonymous, Nimapode, Melody, Kunoichiru, FemKUltra, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, Bob, J, nathan, GladiusLumin, Ada, Marina, Space Prius, Alex, Michael, Thomas, Lavender, Dasterin, TF Emily, Jackson, Djura, Christopher, Pluto

#story

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melodymunson · 8 months

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Steve Harrington x fem reader x Eddie Munson valentine's head canons

Headcanons for Steddie Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson x fem! reader Valentines throughout the years. Contains NSFW, smut, and as always 18+

Ao3 link

-You were best friends with Eddie and Steve in high school and throughout college. You graduated from Hawkins High in 1986 with Eddie and went to the college of your dreams on the other side of the country. Steve and Eddie stayed in Hawkins. Eddie worked at a guitar and music store and stayed in Corroded Coffin as well as recorded/toured with them. Steve, on the other hand, ended up going on to work as a manager at Family Video and then worked at a car dealership and made a really good commission.

-Besides fighting the Upside Down with Steve and Eddie and defeating the Demobats along with Vecna with the help of your friends Robin, Nancy, Max, Lucas, and Dustin, you remained an outcast even past graduation as did Eddie. The wreckage from the hurricane and the battle in upside down only brought you and your friends closer together.

-It was late spring of 1990 and you graduated college with honors and moved back to Hawkins to get a job. You missed your family and home but most importantly you were missing Eddie and Steve. You became Steve's roommate and got a temporary job working with Robin at a comic book/record store.

-As you got closer to Steve and Eddie, you spent your weekends playing Dungeons and Dragons with Eddie and the hellfire club but during the week you spent your time with Steve and Eddie cooking/baking, watching movies, playing records, and finally, that fall you got a better job. You ended up working for your dream job and by early 1991, with a big promotion you moved into an even bigger place with Steve and Eddie moved in with his best friends.

-You started as friends with benefits in late 1990 but it grew into so much more by the beginning of February '91 when Steve and Eddie asked you to be their girlfriend. Of course, you said yes and you all celebrated by having the best and biggest joints, mind-blowing sex, and happy-ending massages.

-With Eddie things were a bit rough usually but in all the best ways. Both Steve and Eddie cared so much about pleasing you and getting you off--even more than getting themselves to cum.

-Their favorite way to please you was by eating you out simultaneously and making you cum over and over again at least 8 times before they fucked you deep and hard.

-You loved to get them off by giving them head and they both swore you gave the best blowjobs ever. Having no gag reflex and being able to easily deepthroat were two of the reasons why but they still enjoyed and loved eating you out even more.

-Every day in February up until Valentine's they gave you little gifts. They would give you anything from a new band tee or denim/leather jacket--to a new pair of shoes, really nice and elegant jewelry such as bracelets, necklaces, and even earrings, lingerie, or your favorite bottle/type of liquor. No gesture or gift was too small. Even a home-cooked meal they prepared or a tasty dessert (even one brought home from the local bakery or your favorite coffee and donuts) was a gift you fully cherished.

-On your first official couple's Valentine's Day together you received the biggest chocolate heart and an expensive bottle of really nice champagne tied in a pink and red ribbon bow when you first woke up. When the boys got home from work you had a nice meal cooked and they brought a multi-color variety of 2 dozen roses just for you.

-The best and biggest gift they got you was your final Valentine's Day gift of a puppy and it was your favorite breed that you named Dio.

-That first Valentine's Day together was the most special of them all because you were so spoiled by getting so many amazing presents in addition to receiving a night of being pampered with a set-up home spa complete with lit candles. They ran you the best bath and gave you the nicest massages and some of the best sex ever with rose petals scattered all over the room and the King-sized bed.

-The night was finished off by watching My Bloody Valentine a true classic and Night Dreams (a porno that was horror-based and inspired by the gritty and dark work of David Lynch the director of Twin Peaks. It was about people fucking in hell and you thought it set the mood). The dirty movie led to more sex including 69 with Eddie as Steve filmed it. Eddie then filmed you and Steve fucking doggy style and then anal.

-Future Valentine's Days with your boyfriends included going to a burlesque show one year, a strip club another year, an epic rock/metal concert of your favorite rock n' roll band, and your 4-year anniversary had you and the boys getting an escort who was stunning. She was goth with the prettiest hazel eyes and the most gorgeous figure. Of course, Eddie and Steve wanted you to indulge in your fantasies of being with a woman. They didn't in any way want to deny you that pleasure even though you were seriously dating them. They trusted you and you felt safe with them.

-The other woman was so tender and caring and as Eddie and Steve watched you make love to her, they got off by giving each other handjobs. You loved to watch them as well as you and the woman pleased each other. Everyone had a wonderful time and even though it was a one-night stand you still occasionally went all together to see her headline shows at a local Hawkins burlesque club.

-Some of the hottest and most vivid moments of Valentine's days you spent with them were by far going out to eat at restaurants and showing each other off. After your first Valentine's together your men made sure to always take off Valentine's Day from work and you did as well.

-After being together happily for 7 years you were pregnant and everyone was overjoyed. Steve hoped you were having twins preferably a girl and a boy. Both of them were so happy for you though. Steve wanted to have at least several more kids after this birth and you and Eddie wholeheartedly agreed with him. Soon Dio and another dog had puppies and you kept half the litter giving the rest to Nancy, Robin, and Dustin.

-That next year on Valentine's and 4 months pregnant, you got married to them in a ceremony and celebration with all of your closest family and friends. In attendance was Uncle Wayne, Hellfire club, your parents, best friends, your cousins, some of Steve's relatives, and of course the whole gang including Max, Eleven, Nancy who was now married happily with 2 kids to Jonathan, Robin who was engaged to Vickie with an adopted 5-year-old daughter, and Argyle along with his long-time girlfriend, Eden. Legally you were married to Steve but Eddie was still your husband as well in your eyes and Steddie's and that's all that truly mattered.

-10 years later you were still married but living in an even bigger place with 4 kids now. You had twin girls and two boys. Robin and Nancy were of course the Godmothers. Mike and Dustin were the Godfathers and loved having those titles more than anything. Dio was such a protective and loving dog for the twins and the boys and so were the other dogs.

-You felt so safe and secure with your family and felt like you had more love than your heart ever felt before. For that, you were truly grateful and wouldn't trade any of it for anything.

tag list @chrrymunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @bimbobaggins69 @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @corneliuswatkins @keeryatmosphere @imyourdaninow @ali-r3n @harringtonfan4 @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @bunnsandroses @onegirlmanytales @steveslittlesunflower @reidsbtch @emsgoodthinkin @jadeylovesmarvelxo @zestychili @s6raphic @probablyin-bed @corrodedcorpses @dollalicia @djoekeeryy @lokis-army-77 @shescreamslikeachild @somethingvicked @ofhawkinsandskippy @prettyboyeddiemunson

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #valentines day #head canons #valentines #valentines head canons #steddie #steddie x reader #steddie x fem reader #stranger things head canons #steve harrington x fem reader #eddie munson x fem reader

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ask-the-winners-circle · 2 months

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Winner Designs

Note: all the symbols in the eyes are purple and glowy

Grian_Has messy sandy colored hair, black eyes, with the alchemical symbol for the sun in them and blue, red and yellow parrot wings. He wears a dark red shirt with a a weird cape like thing (idk what its called) to protect him form the sun, dark brown shorts, bandages wrapped around his wrist and ankles in the same style a boxer has them

Scott_ Has pale blue hair, and vibrant red eyes, and elf ears, and star floating around his head, has the alchemical symbol for stars in his eyes, wears a white and red striped shirt, with a red button up over it, and jeans

Pearl_ Dark brown hair, red eyes, with the alchemical symbol for moon in them , wolf ears and a tail, wears a bloodstained white shirt, red cloak, and dark brown shorts that go down to the knees.

DL Scott_ Pale blue hair with red highlights, red eyes, with no symbol, cat ears and a slender cat tail, wears a red and white shirt, red jacket, ripped jeans with chains coming from the belt loops on the sides, and combat boots

Martyn_ messy blond hair, red eyes, with the alchemical symbol for mars in them ,red and black coral latched onto his skin, wears a white shirt, black vest and pants, red coat and leather boots

Scar_ gray skin, dark brown hair with purple and red highlights, red eyes, with the alchemical symbol for earth in them, wears a black shirt and pants, with a hooded black cloak with poppies and lilacs sewed into it

Cleo_ Pale blue skin, orange hair, red eyes with the alchemical symbol for pluto in them, she has wires stick out of various areas of her body, and a visor over her eyes, she wears a multi color workout outfit

---------

Authors note: your more than welcome to do art of these characters))

#trafficblr #ask the winners circle #character design #grian #smajor1995 #pearlescentmoon #inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar #zombie cleo

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forcedfemme-me · 7 months

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Karlie Kloss by Kai Z Feng by Elle UK - Louis Vuitton leather jacket

#karlie kloss #leather #leather jacket #louis vuitton #multi-color leather

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schtrawberry · 1 month

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oh, to dress as your venus sign.ᐟ

[!] featuring my aries venus in the ninth house.

brief description: focusing on the more malefic side of mars in comparison to my previous post. in venus, aries is boyish and energetic— leaning heavily into bright reds to combat various shades of monochromatic blacks, whites, greys, and paler shades.

short hair, short cuts, and an even shorter temper.ᐟ

rather than the vibrant pinks and neons i've mentioned before, this venus in aries uses varying shades of red to cut through dark purples, greys, blacks, and army greens.

felt incredibly inspired by this picture from the musier paris spring 2023 lookbook— the use of grey leather on plain white with the model's very sleek pair of black boots made for such a carefully-monochromatic outfit that allowed for her red hobo bag to absolutely shine through. and the hair! just the perfect amount of short and playful that i associate with venus in this sign.

in this interpretation, venus in aries is a minimalist. yes, there may be a mix of revealing cuts and varying textures of leather and denim, but the colors always speak for themselves. sparkles, crazy patterns, belts, and excessive pieces of jewelry are to be kept at a minimum (but not forgone) in order for the singular addition of red to be the forever star of the show.

leather, cargo, and denim are truly the primary fabrics that bring body to each outfit for this sign— layered on top of cotton or modal to create emphasis for these more structured fabrics.

brands that come to mind: BAPE, maje paris, musier, AMI paris, zadig et voltaire, A.P.C, this piece from the isabel marant spring 2024 collection, jil sander, helmut lang.

brief description: venus in the ninth house is big on travel and expanding their horizon by visiting unfamiliar places. in this house, venus seeks pieces of clothing that make moving easy and comfortable— preferably in muted blues, pinks, greens, and oranges but with a loud pop of red to show their bright, jupiterian spirit.

something to camp in, something outdoorsy, something easy to move in.ᐟ

the ninth house also represents ethics; making this sign highly attracted to fashion brands that make use of eco-friendly fabrics and materials. they have a soft spot for brands that put special effort into ensuring that they are operated in an ethical manner.

colorful knits and sturdy hiking boots as seen in this aries x ROA hiking collaboration! such a perfect blend of comforting knitwear and natural colors to support the rugged life of their dreams.

too keep up with this sign's active spirit, i also envisioned a more boyish and sporty wardrobe and felt particularly inspired by the most recent sporty & rich x adidas collaboration. cotton tees, jersey shorts, and bejeweled sambas that are best for movement and activity!

in terms of jewelry, a charmed anklet first comes to mind. this sign is also a minimalist to, so they would rather put their energy into accessorizing their shoes with charms, bags with trinkets, and beltlines with functional pouches.

more energy moves towards functionality in this sign; with multi-pocketed jackets and pants, compact crossbody bags, and shoes that can be paired with a multitude of outfits.

brands that come to mind: forét (fw24), adidas sambas, aries x ROA collab, thinking mu, AMI paris, sporty & rich, marni, pangaia, comptoir des cotonniers.

#alis does astrology #dressing like my sign/s #zodiac #zodiac signs #astrology #amateur astrology #aries venus #venus in the ninth house #astro observations #astrology observations

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bikerfashionjacket · 1 year

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Philipp Plein Multicolor Full Studded Embroidery Patches Leather Jacket Men Black Leather Studded motorcycle jacket studded fashion jacket.

Size: All sizes

Accents: Studded

Department: Men

Style: Biker

Outer Shell Material: Genuine Leather

Performance/Activity: Bodybuilding, Dance

Color: Multicolor

Closure: Zip

Brand: Biker Fashion leather

Any color, Any Design, All Size Available

Customization Available

Studded Jacket made with 100 % Genuine Top Quality Cowhide Leather

Studded Used Each Single one is Punched with hands

High Quality Spikes & Studs. Each securely added by hand Cropped, Vintage

Polyester Inner Lining & inside Pocket

Zipper details on Sleeves

Soft Black Real Leather

#Biker studded jacket #Leather studded #Multi color jacket #Studded leather #Genuine leather #Mens studded jacket #Multipatches #Motorcycle studded #Motorbike studded #Handmade studded #Black studded jacket #Silver studdedjacket #Leatherstuddedjacket

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lostuntothisworld · 5 months

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Time to add onto my Spaghetti theories

Okay Lila's jacket definitely looks a LOT like this very old Ladybug concept art I might be on to something with my reasons for multiple moms, timeloops on due to multitude of previous Wishes, and previous ladybugs theory and how Lilamoth will cover her tracks...

I think she has a multistep (or multi Wish universe plan) to actually take the place of Ladybug. BUT there's one thing I'm trying to figure out, and I have a theory about it. It's interesting she only wanted the pages of the Fox and the Black Cat out of the Grimore.

Kind of like how Felix does too, in Strikeback we see Felix scrolling through the Black Cat and the Peafowl.

My working theory is that they both have the same-ish goal, but for completely different reasons, and it's possible they both know Adrien is Chat.

My crack theory is that Felix is trying to get back to being Chat with a previous Ladybug he was in love with and failed to save in the original First Universe. Bonus points if there's a catfight between the two previous girl Ladybugs over Felix but in reality it's the boy Ladybug he was with originally lmao

Lilamoth on the other hand was part of the secret Universe 0 where she was a huge shipper of their version of LadyNoire. Unfortunately and unknown to her, The OG Ladybug and Chat Noir were Adrien (as the Ladybug), and his twin sister.

Lilamoth wants to take the place of the female Chat Noire and be with Adribug.

Shipping literally caused the end of the world many many many times over.

(Now just to figure out the symbolism of why Lilamoth's leather jackets keep turning a darker color...)

EDIT: HOW COULD I POSSIBLY HAVE FORGOTTEN THESE JACKETS

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug season 6 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #felix fathom #argos #lila rossi #cerise bianca #iris verdi

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emma-m-black · 13 days

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Soul Mate Magic - Chapter One

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

This will be a multi chapter story I don't know how spicy it will get yet, but I'll rate it Mature just to be safe.

Author Master List

Chapter One

It was the first day of classes—well, the first day of classes for Rose, that was. For everyone else, it was already about two months into the school year. But she was here now, and that was all that mattered. As she stood at the edge of the school grounds, her backpack hanging casually from one shoulder; she tilted her head slightly to take in the sight before her. The sprawling brick building loomed, its tall windows glinting under the soft morning sun. A subtle smile crept across her lips, barely noticeable, but there. Her long, and deeply coloured red hair lifted in the gentle breeze, catching the light as it danced in the air like fiery waves.

“Rose Murphy?” a voice called out from somewhere nearby, piercing the stillness around her. It was still early enough that the grounds remained devoid of students, their usual chatter and laughter absent from the air.

Rose turned, her green eyes narrowing as they scanned the scene for the source of the voice. After a moment, she spotted a girl with similarly red hair, though lighter and softer, waving cheerfully as she skipped toward her. “You must be Rose! It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Hi,” Rose responded cautiously, giving the girl a quick once-over. She was dressed in a fuzzy pink sweater and flared bellbottoms with stripes that stood out boldly against the muted tones of the schoolyard. The ensemble was a sharp contrast to Rose’s fitted blue jeans and cream-colored camisole, which peeked from beneath her worn, dark brown leather jacket. “How did you know who I am?”

“Oh, yeah. Guess that is kind of creepy, huh?” The girl grinned without a hint of awkwardness. “I’m Willow, your official tour guide for the day! I’m supposed to show you around, help you get your books, and make sure you’re up to speed. No getting lost on my watch!”

Rose arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “That still doesn’t explain how you knew who I was.”

Willow’s giggle was light, and she waved it off casually. “You look way too cool to be from around here. Plus, I’ve never seen you before, so I took an educated guess.”

Rose exhaled a soft sigh before her lips curled into a reluctant smile. “Well, nice to meet you, Willow. And yes, I’m Rose.”

“You’re going to love Sunnydale! How about we start with my favorite spot?”

Rose chuckled under her breath. “It’s going to be the library, isn’t it?”

Willow’s face lit up as she clapped her hands together. “Yeah! How did you guess?”

“Just a hunch. You seem like you’re... um...” Rose hesitated, trying to find the right label.

Willow grinned wider. “A nerd?”

Rose pressed her lips together, then nodded slightly. “I mean, yeah... I’m a nerd too, so no judgment. I love books!”

Willow laughed again, brushing it off with ease. “Could’ve fooled me. I’m sure Cordelia will try to eat you alive.”

Rose blinked. “Eat me?”

“Well, not literally,” Willow said, waving her hand in dismissal as she motioned for Rose to follow. “She’s the popular one, and you look like you belong in her crowd, not hanging with little ol’ me. But she’s not that bad. A bit vain, maybe, but she’s even helped with...” Willow trailed off, eyes darting nervously. “Well, never mind. You’ll see. Anyway, if you love books, you’ll love Giles!”

Rose’s curiosity piqued as they stepped into the bustling halls of the school. “Who’s Giles?”

Willow’s eyes brightened. “He’s the librarian! He has this amazing collection of occul... umm... books.”

Rose stopped mid-stride, her right hand twitching slightly at her side. “Were you going to say ‘occult’?”

Willow’s voice jumped an octave, her words suddenly rushing out. “Yeah, but, you know, only if you’re into that kind of thing? It’s just a fun, academic interest for some of us. Totally harmless. Not real. Nope, not real at all.”

Rose’s fingers flexed as an odd sensation crawled up her spine. “No, totally not real,” she muttered before she curled her fingers into a tight fist as they approached two large, wooden doors under a sign that read LIBRARY. The heavy, magic-laden air prickled at Rose’s senses the moment she crossed the threshold. The magical energy here was thick, almost suffocating. Her Aunt’s warning echoed in her mind—Sunnydale was saturated with supernatural forces. It would make her spells easier to cast, but also more dangerous for her if she was caught.

“Giles!” Willow called out, leaning casually against the large reception desk.

A smooth British voice responded from somewhere deeper in the room. “Willow?”

“I’ve got a new student with me! We need books!” Willow replied cheerfully.

A moment later, a head popped out from behind a doorframe near the desk. An older man with salt-and-pepper hair and wire-framed glasses appeared, his face warm yet slightly distracted. “Ah, excellent!” He stepped out fully, his gaze immediately settling on Rose.

Rose couldn’t look away. This man, Rupert Giles, practically oozed magic. Even without her Aunt’s gift for seeing auras, Rose could feel it. The tingle of raw power hung around him like static in the air. She could almost taste the sharp edge of dark spells lurking just beneath his composed exterior.

“Rose, this is Rupert Giles. Giles, meet Rose.”

“That’s odd. I received a note about a new student, but I don’t believe the name was Rose...” Giles adjusted his glasses, his eyes narrowing as they scanned her closely.

“My given name is actually Guinevere, but I never use it. I go by my middle name, Rose.”

Giles murmured something under his breath—Windos sēbros—his sharp gaze cutting into her as if searching for something hidden beneath the surface. Rose met his eyes, wondering if he could sense what she did—magic, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“What?” Willow asked, glancing between them, completely oblivious to the intensity of their exchange.

“The White Phantom,” Rose whispered, feeling the weight of Giles’s gaze press into her. There was a moment where the air between them seemed to shimmer, thick with unspoken understanding.

Willow blinked, oblivious to the tension. “Oh! Like Arthurian stuff! My brain immediately goes to you know the sword in the stone, not um Phantoms. So, your name is Guinevere? Like the Guinevere?”

Giles gave a small, distracted nod, but his attention remained fixed on Rose. His voice softened, turning speculative. “The White Phantom, a figure from Welsh folklore. It was a magical being of great power.”

Rose shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his words, her right hand twitching once more at her side, a tell-tale sign that the magic inside her was stirring. She wasn’t sure what Giles could sense, but she could feel the way the atmosphere around them was charged. He knew something. And from the look in his eyes, he was trying to figure out just how much.

“Neat!” Willow exclaimed, still smiling brightly, unaware of the brewing storm of magic around her. “I always thought Guinevere was just a queen, but folklore makes her way cooler. Magic and mystery? Totally beats royalty.” She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Giles blinked, seemingly pulling himself back to the present. “Yes, well. Books. You’re here for books.” He cleared his throat, visibly shaking off the strangeness of the encounter. “Willow, I assume you have Rose’s schedule?”

“Sure thing!” Willow handed over a slip of paper that had been stuffed into her pocket. Giles smoothed it out and began reading through it.

As he did, his eyebrows raised slightly. “Quite the ambitious course load. It seems you and Willow will be seeing a lot of each other, judging by the overlap in your schedules.” His gaze flicked back to Rose. “Quite the academic, I see?”

Rose offered a slight smile. “I guess you could say that.”

Willow nudged her playfully. “She’s part of the club! It’s not very glamorous, but there are lots of late nights and over-caffeinated study sessions.”

Giles’s eyes lingered on Rose for another moment, as if he was still trying to unravel some hidden mystery about her, but then he sighed and nodded. “Right, well, let’s get you your books.”

As Giles disappeared into the shelves with Willow, Rose was left standing alone at the counter, her fingers idly tracing the surface of the old, worn wood. The library smelled of aged paper, dust, and something else—something faintly metallic, like the scent of a spell that had been cast long ago and lingered in the air, forgotten by everyone but those who could sense it.

She could hear hushed voices coming from deeper within the stacks. Willow’s tone was light, as usual, but Giles’s voice had taken on a more serious edge. Curious, Rose instinctively raised her hand to her ear and began to trace the familiar rune—one she had learned as a child when she wanted to eavesdrop on her parents. Her finger moved quickly, drawing the symbol with practiced ease. A warm sensation bloomed just behind her ear, and suddenly the quiet murmur of their conversation became clearer.

“She seems normal to me, Giles. No horns, no pointy teeth,” Willow was saying, her tone teasing but reassuring.

“I’m not so sure,” Giles muttered. “There’s something... familiar about her. Something I can’t quite place.”

Willow laughed softly. “I’ve only been with her for like ten minutes, Giles. I didn’t exactly start our conversation with, ‘Hi, are you a demonic creature here to kill us all, or just really into AP math?’ She seems pretty normal to me.”

Giles was silent for a beat. “Perhaps. But there’s a reason I feel like I’ve seen her—or someone like her—before.”

“Well, if she starts going all yellow-eyed and blood-sucky, I promise you’ll be the first to know,” Willow joked, though her words were met with a contemplative hum from Giles.

Rose let her hand drop, wiping the rune from her skin and cutting off the conversation. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Giles’s suspicions were more than just casual curiosity. He knew there was something off about her. He just didn’t know what yet. She would have to be careful.

A few minutes later, Willow and Giles reappeared, their arms stacked high with books. Rose had busied herself thumbing through a book on ancient Sumerian languages, though her mind was elsewhere.

“Well, I think we’ve got everything,” Giles said, though his voice carried a hint of reluctance. His expression was tight, as though he wasn’t entirely satisfied with leaving things where they were.

“Sorry!” Willow chirped, hiding behind a mountain of books. “I might’ve grabbed a few extras.”

Giles began signing out each book, his movements quick and precise. As he pushed the last one across the counter toward her, Rose reached to take it. The moment her hand came close to his, a sharp arc of electricity crackled between their fingers, lighting up the small gap between them with a visible spark. Rose jerked her hand back, shaking it as the sensation of numbness shot up her arm.

“Ow.”

Giles’s eyes widened slightly as he stared down at his own hand. “I—I’m terribly sorry, Rose. Must have been some static from the stacks. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Rose replied, flexing her fingers. The feeling was already returning, but the jolt had been more than just static. She could feel the lingering buzz of magic still in the air between them. “Just lost feeling for a second there.”

Giles’s gaze flicked to Willow, then back to Rose, his expression unreadable. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Rose. The library is always open if you need anything. And do let me know if there’s anything... unusual you require.”

Rose forced a smile, though the underlying tension between them was hard to ignore. “Thanks, Mr. Giles. I think I will be hiding in here quite often enough.”

Willow helped her gather the books, and soon the two of them were heading back down the quiet halls of Sunnydale High. As they walked, the distant hum of students echoed faintly through the halls, but Rose’s mind was elsewhere, buzzing with thoughts of Giles, the spark, and the strange magic that seemed to hang over him like a dark cloud.

Read Chapter Two

#buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #Rupert Giles #Rupert Giles x OC #Rupert Giles/OC #Rupert Giles FanFiction #Rupert Giles FanFic #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffyverse

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 1 year

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HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTEST FRIEND!!!! I was gonna post this tomorrow but I'm gonna be leaving off into the woods once more, so you get it a day earlier bbg 😘 ENJOY AND I LOVE YOU!!!💜💜💜

𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐬 @mjtheartist04 !!! 𝐆𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐭! 𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭! :] 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 🔫/𝐣/𝐥𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐳 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝟏𝟔+, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 👀 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞!

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!! ~𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲🍒

“Hey, thanks for the ride home Emerson.” Rika speaks directly into Michael’s ear, her chin resting against his shoulder atop his leather jacket. He can’t see it as he kept his eyes trained on the road in front of him, but he could hear the smile in her voice. He has a hard time fighting off the small one tugging at his lips, lasting for only a second as he gives a loose nod, not verbally voicing a welcome.

He pulls his motorcycle off to the curb, the revving engine roaring to a slow purr as he hits the brakes slowly, sticking out one leg and using it to keep his bike upright as he awaits Rika to climb off.

She does, slowly unwrapping her arms that loosely hung around Michael’s hips, pulling her head away from his which allowed him to turn and watch her. Just in case she needed any help getting off, the the girl seemed to know what she was doing, getting off the bike with ease and her blue, worn-down sneakers hit the freshly watered grass of the curbside lawn beneath.

Michael seems to watch her the entire time, deep blue eyes trained her every movement as if to study her like some strange, new, being to him. In some ways, it was an odd sense of intrigue or protectiveness. But Michael was always hard to read, given he didn’t seem like he talked much, and when he did, the exchange was short.

Rika let’s out a sigh, her voice humming out a little as she turned to him, looking at her house only a couple of strides away, hands on her hips as though she was watching some story or scene unfold.

She stays like that long enough for Michael to quirk a brow, amusement tugging at his lips while his eyes darted from her to her front door. Did she know he was waiting for her to head inside before he left? Just to be sure she was safe. He hopes that wasn’t some strange, or creepy thing to do in Santa Carla, if anything he’d assume it was about damn near mandatory with the state this old run downtown was in.

The only sound that echoed in the darkness was his engine, still humming low. He wasn’t exactly sure if he should speak up or stay quiet, his jaw tensing and relaxing visibly as he tried to think what he was even supposed to say.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude not to walk a girl up to her front door?”

Rika’s voice was laced with humor, Michael’s head snapped toward her direction as he finally heard a noise that wasn’t his beat down bike. Her head was turned back to him, the dull glow from her porch light seemed to gleam against her dark, navy blue strands of hair, her half-lidded glance caused her dark lashes to hide glimpses of her multi-colored eyes, which glistened with amusement and some other feeling Michael couldn’t name… Something akin to anticipation…

No matter what it was, it made his heart leap into the back of his throat, causing his breathing to hitch.

He fumbled for a good second as he turned quickly to his bike, struggling to get a good hold on the keys to shut it off hastily, the low growl of the bike immediately going silent. He kicks down the stand on the bike, resting it firmly on the side of the road while throwing his leg over the side whilst sliding off of it.

He mutters a sorry, so quiet and faint you’d probably be unable to hear it if his bike was still on. But Rika hear it, and she let’s out a harsh breath through her nose, a silent chuckle as her smile only widens into a grin, seeing Michael fix his jacket a bit and pat down his pants as if to fix his already decent appearance. He then turns to her, watching as she makes a curt nodding motion toward her house.

“That’s more like it.” She teases, beginning to walk at a slow pace, before picking it up to a normal speed as Michael stepped to her side. She hears a dry scoff leave Michael, already sensing the eyeroll she got, but there was no ill intent in it.

The rest of the short walk to the front steps of her porch was quiet, only the soft sound of steps against the moist grass, before turning a little more toned when they land on the old, creaky, wood steps.

Michael stays on the cement, one foot on the first step of the porch, but the other stayed firm on the ground as he leaned against the railing, watching Rika ascend up the two other steps before she comes to a halt at the front of her door, turning to face Michael.

Her dark eyebrows raise in a bit of curiosity, eyes dancing along Michaels figure and back at the door. Her hands folded behind her back as she scuffed the front of her shoe against the porch. She’s waiting for something.

Michael didn’t move though, even if he seemed to know what exactly Rika’s intentions were. He awkwardly eyed her a few times, then looked down at his feet, some type of embarrassment or annoyance etched along his furrowed brows. But it isn’t directed toward Rika, in some way it feels like his raging emotions seem to be aimed toward himself.

If he’s being honest, he doesn’t really know why he doesn’t have the guts to meet her up on her porch. He’s not nervous, or panicked, but he’s anxious. He almost physically can’t get anywhere closer to her house. It feels as if he’s breaking some silent rule if he even takes another step. He knows he’s very capable of it… Yet it’s like his body goes into fight or flight if he even leans ever so slightly in the direction of the house.

“Hey.”

Rika’s voice pulls him away from his thoughts for the second time that night. But she seemed to have that effect on him. What surprises him most is how close she had gotten to him now. She’s standing directly in front of him on the front step, so she’s just a few inches taller than him with her newly added height, yet that doesn’t do much to effect Michael, only tilting his head up every so slightly to meet her eyes. His eyebrows were raised as if to ask what she needed as she got his attention back.

She gives a crooked shrug, lifting only one shoulder for a second as she looks over it, looking back out to behind the trees where there was a small hint of bright lights and colors leaking through the bundled shield of leaves, the boardwalk quite far, yet it felt so close in that moment.

“I’m glad you decided to show up tonight.” She says, turning back to look at him. “I know all the guys can be a lot sometimes… But they seem to like you. So do I.”

Her blunt confession pulls Michael’s gaze from behind her to lock with her eyes once again, feeling that weird feeling at the back of his throat again, causing his heart to beat to fierce for comfort, vibrating against his tonsils.

Her tan skin goes a little rosy in her cheeks, biting the inside of her cheek as that sweet, tooth-rotting grin of hers starts to grow, spreading across her lips that now suddenly, Michael can’t seem to take his eyes off of.

“Thanks.” Is all Michael seeming to get out, clearing his throat a little as he reaches a hand up to run against the back of his neck, catching a few curls of his hair in between his fingers before he pulls away, his hand falling to his side. “I’m… I’m glad I met you too.” He says. That ghost of a smile reappearing.

Rika’s eyes seem to gleam brighter, but it’s almost like her own body produces the twinkle rather than the light from her porch step, which flickers ever so often. “Yeah?” She breathes out softly, inching a bit closer to Michael. He doesn’t make any move to pull away.

He nods. “I wasn’t feeling all that welcome in this town for a while… It’s kind of hard to adjust.” He starts, feeling his gaze slowly fall back to the ground as he continues, some burning want or anticipation starting to flood his chest, making it hard to breath. “But that night when I met you on the back of Paul’s bike I… I guess I thought maybe living here wouldn’t be too bad.” He dryly laughs at the end of his statement. It’s awkward, it’s almost shy, but it has the butterflies in the pit of Rika’s stomach going haywire.

She responds the the statement with her own shy giggle, running a hand through her fluffy blue bangs, before bringing her gaze toward Michael again, who had yet to look at her, purposefully keeping his eyes glued to his shoes.

She bites her lip, feeling that warmth running up her spine, blooming on her face in a faint, rosy blush, even turning the tips of her ears the pink shade. She makes another move, just inching as slowly, and closely as she possibly can, getting to a good enough space she’s close enough to place her hands against his chest.

She can feel his heart beating just as fast as hers, almost in sync. His chest rising and falling slowly, before immediately stopping as he felt the two hands being gently placed against his shirt.

Michael meets her eyes once more, lips slightly parting as if he wanted to say something, but he can’t find the words, his mind going blank. He almost feels his legs give in under him as her hands slowly creep up to his bare collar bone, her warm skin against his while her arms slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling her body close to his.

The second he felt her body press against his, his hands slowly find their way up to her waist, resting comfortably against her curves. Rika doesn’t pull away. If anything, it tells her she can move in a little closer.

Her eyes dance along every detail on his face, always finding them falling back to his lips. Her face inches closer to his, and his does the same, getting so close she could feel his warm breath against her lips, causing hers to quiver into a small smile. Her eyes slowly closed, finally going in for the kill.

Her soft lips meet his rough, slightly chapped ones. Michael doesn’t hold back, instantly kissing back, his arms fulling snaking around her waist and bringing her closer, one hand at the small of her back and the other resting between her shoulder blades.

Michael feels as though she’s stolen his breath, and the only way he can get it back is directly from her. He never pulls away as his eyes begin to shut, the feeling of her in his arms was almost otherworldly.

Rika’s heart started doing cartwheels, dancing against her ribcage. She’s almost afraid he can feel her beating heart against his chest. Her arms stay firmly wrapped around the back of Michael’s neck, one of her hands reaching up to tangle itself in his dark hair, running his fingers along his scalp.

Michael let’s out a low hum and the sensation, craning his head at slightly angle just to kiss her deeper, only parting their lips for mere seconds before bringing her back in. It was almost like a drug, intoxicating yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away or give her up just yet.

One hand slowly creeps up to rest against the back of her neck, causing her to tilt her head just to slightly, mimicking Michael’s actions. The other hand slowly goes back to her hip, two of his fingers slipping through the belt ring of her jeans, while his thumb gently ran under the hem of her green sun shirt and white t-shirt, stroking over the skin of her hip.

Rika almost feels lightheaded- and she’s not sure it’s from the fact she has to gasp to get a few breaths in when their lips part for a few moments. She can feel how hot her face is, and she’s a little embarrassed when he pulls away to see her as red as a tomato. But she won’t worry about that just yet. Right now is all that mattered… And she hopes later doesn’t come for a long time.

It feels like she met the guy a week ago, yet she’s already head over heels for him.

Michael’s hand against her neck slowly makes it’s away against the side of her face, his fingers tracing over her jaw, taking in as much of her touch as he can, like he can’t just open her eyes and look at her himself. He takes a second to tug a strand of her navy hair behind her ear, taking the chance to keep his palm gently placed against her cheek, using the better hold, and beginning to gently bite at her bottom lip- causing him to feel her smile against his lips.

And then as soon as it had started, it ended.

Michael felt a sharp cold spike through his hand before it grew hot. Stinging. Burning. The pain jolts across his palm and almost feels like liquid fire starts crawling through his veins, aching to his middle arm.

He let’s out a pained yelp, instantly pulling away as he growls out muffled curses, clutching his wrist as if to cut off the pain from reaching any farther. It doesn’t work. His hand stays balled into a fist shaking rapidly as he slowly turns it to where it would be palm out, but he himself can’t seem to pry his own fingers open, their almost locked in that position. A faint smoke leaking through his closed knuckles.

He breathes heavily through gritted teeth, a cold sweat starting at the back of his neck as he got his bearings back, chest rising and falling slow, but heavy and labored. Both the pain and the fact he was just taking a second to breathe from that make out session from earlier were getting to him.

“W-what’s wrong?” Rika speaks up finally, her voice full of worry and guilt, almost afraid she was doing something wrong. It was then Michael realized he must have pushed her away a bit as a sudden reflex to the pain, his gaze darting back up to her, his eyes wide and intense with just as much confusion and fear.

“Michael?” She asks again, her hands that were held up in defense slowly falling, yet still pulled back into a position as if she’s ready to come to his aid the second he gives her the okay to touch him. But he doesn’t respond, he only looks back at his hand, feeling the numbing pain that was keeping his hand cramped in a clenched position begin to fade, his fingers relaxing enough for him to slowly pry it open and see what on earth had happened.

He feels that sweat building at the back of his neck trickle down his spine, leaving a cold shiver. He’s been burned.

There’s a red, blistering imprint on the palm of his hand, small hints of blood and singed skin curling around it. The perfect shape of a cross emitting the faint trail of smoke from his hand.

His mouth opens ever so slightly, swallowing down the sudden lump in the back of his throat. His eyes seem to grow wider at the sight, blinking rapidly to try and see it disappear, see it all just a trick of his mind. But it stays. It’s real.

“Michael?” Rika speaks once more, her voice softer, like she’s more scared of him than worried.

He looked back up at her, his breathing hadn’t calmed yet, and his teeth still gritted together. He can probably understand why she was getting a bit fearful, he’s not sure he looks all that nice right now. She was intimidated.

But he can’t tear his eyes away from her, he can’t shake the odd sensation of unease that starts to emit from her, as thought that feeling he had when she wanted him to join her on her porch began to creep back, and it only worsened as his eyes fell to her earrings, swinging just a bit by her ears as the silver gleamed against the light… They were crosses.

Michael looks back and forth from his hand to Rika’s earrings so fast it’s almost comedic, but he sees the imprint, the exact same size, almost like a puzzle piece.

He couldn’t even stand to look at them, the light was so faint beaming against them, yet it felt so blinding, almost like it was burning his eyes. He closed them, swallowing down the pain as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. He shuts his jaw tight, only squeezing his wrist tighter.

What’s happening?

Why now?

Why him?

“What’s going on?” Rika’s voice grows a little firmer, wanting to get an answer, and she wants one now. But it’s obvious this is getting to her, there’s that slight shake in her voice that gives away how truly nervous she really was.

“Michael…”

That whisper… So quiet and yet so loud drowned out Rika’s voice in a matter of seconds, Michael slowly lifting his head to look out in the distance. The place they had just left only a few minutes ago.

“Michael…”

“Do you hear that?” Michael asks, slowly shutting his hand into a tight fist once more, shielding the wound from Rika, but he does his a little in pain as the already calming ache is brought back tenfold. He rises from where he was leaning against the railing, slowly stepping back down onto the sidewalk, and looking out through the trees, searching for the voice, the person chanting his name. The multiple voices beginning to chant his name, all uncoordinated and almost headache inducing.

“I don’t hear anything…” Rika responds, watching Michael stumble onto her lawn, her fingers gripping the railing tightly as she looks out to where he was looking, brows furrowing and her lips forming a tight frown.

She squints, trying to look for anything- or anyone that could be making Michael act so strange… Or maybe he was completely crazy? That idea made her just a bit queasy.

She is immediately startled as she hears the sudden sound of an engine roar to life, making her jump a little, instantly spinning in the direction of where she saw Michael had hastily climbed back onto his bike, harshly kicking the stand back and pulling his bike away from the curb so he would be able to turn.

“Michael?!” She shouts, hurrying off her steps as she watches him, only getting an apologetic glance from the boy before he has his sights trained straight toward where the boardwalk stays illuminated in the distance.

“I have to go.” He shouts back, revving his engine just a bit as he turns around and readies to ride out. “I’ll see you around!” And he doesn’t even hear another word out of her before he takes off down the road, so fast that by the time Rika had blinked away her shock and alarm, he had already disappeared from her view, but she could hear his bike’s engine grow fainter and fainter.

And with that, he was gone. Leaving both he and Rika with too many questions, that would truly never get their answer.

#tlb #tlb 1987 #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys fanart #the lost boys oc #the lost boys x reader #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒#the lost boys michael #tlb michael

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