#oh to be able to live the dream vampire life

[superbellsubways]

Ever since i was small i had always wanted to live in a giant haunted mansion im so angry ill never get that ever in my life

[sleepyangelkami]

Hi, I was thinking Vi x Reader. Where Reader is half human and half vampire and she hasn’t drink blood in weeks now and she is crazy starving. When Vi came back home from work she didn’t see her girlfriend in the living room but found her in their shared room facing back to her. Vi slowly walk to her but Reader flinched and not turning towards her. Reader explained why she is not turning towards her but Vi wants her to drink blood from her but Reader refuse because she might think that she will hurt Vi. Vi told her it is okay and Reader made a decision by letting her drink blood from Vi.

BOTTOMS UP .vi

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - vampire!reader hasn't been able to drink blood in what felt like forever. luckily for her, vi's there with open arms and an outstretched wrist. in fear of hurting her, you decline the offer but you and her both know you won't be able to refuse her much longer.

 ☆ WARNINGS - blood, vampire themes, def inaccurate description of vampires, petnames, use of y/n, use of good girl, thumb sucking?, sorta suggestive, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

your throat was dry and your head was pounding. you lay curled up in your bed, the blinds shut and your hands pressed against your face. you tried to shut everything out, block out the loud yells in your head. you were hungry, so very hungry.

but you were also sure that your girlfriend would be home soon.

piltover had put up the walls between zaun and piltover but jayce assured you that the walls wouldn't last long after seeing the worry written across your face. why? he wasn't sure. then again, neither did he deem it his business to ask. but with the walls being up between zaun and piltover, you had no way of getting into the woods. the place you went to when you were hungry.

you were a vampire, yes, had been for many years now, would be for the rest of eternity.

but you didn't feed on humans, no, you wouldn't even dream of it. despite your monster-like qualities, you vowed to be nothing like a monster. you didn't want to be the type of tale that scared kids, the type that their older siblings read before bed, just trying to get them riled up. you fed from animals, in the woods where no one would see you. and only one knew of your secret.

the same girl that was opening your front door.

"hey, cupcake." vi was walking through the door, tiredness evident in her voice. she found herself in your guys' shared bedroom as quick as lightning. ever since you'd moved out from your parents house, everything seemed so much smaller but with vi by your side, the world seemed to be filled with endless opportunities.

you didn't respond, but vi wasn't too concerned yet.

the curtains had been drawn, only she assumed that was due to the fact it was currently night and not the fact that your brain was in scrambles from when the sunlight was peeking through. she'd been working for a while now, helping out some kiramman girl with something she needed help on. she needed insight on the very city of zaun, the one vi had grown up in her entire life. so naturally, she didn't mind helping the girl. the one thing she didn't like? leaving you for so long.

you felt outstretched arms wrap around your torso, her head falling into your shoulder. only now, had you realised she'd been talking the past five minutes. "y'listening?" and your silence served as an answer enough. "hey, what's wrong, baby? you're being quiet." when she turned you around she could see your tear-stained under eyes and your pale complexion. "hey, what's wrong?"

you could see the worry coating her eyes and it made you impossible more guilty. "doesn't matter." but she could see by the under eye bags and your teased hair that it did matter.

"you're shaking." she commented, taking you into her arms with worry. at first, she would have assumed that you were sick. her hand placed itself on your forehead, feeling for any temperature. you were merely cold. "oh, is this a... you know, vamp thing?" you suddenly felt very embarrassed. "hey, hey, i'm not judging, you know that." her hands soothed down your arms, sitting up and pulling you with her. "i jus' wanna know what's wrong so i can help you."

"y'can't help." you spoke, looking away and not reaching her eyes.

but she wasn't having any of that. her fingers drew your chin back to her. "we don't know that until we try." she attempted at coaxing you. "jus' tell me wh's the matter?"

"the walls." your mumble caused her ears to perk under her bubblegum hair. "can't go into the woods."

"oh, baby." she frowned suddenly, realising she hadn't thought of that at all. "I was so wrapped up in working with caitlyn, i completely forgot."

but before you could even assure her that it was okay, your hands were pushing at her. "v-vi." trying to get away. with confused eyes, her hands followed you, pressing against your upper arms. "vi, please don't touch me." suddenly feeling tears spring in your eyes.

the girls brows were pinched together. "why not?" before contorting to a look that told you she understood what you had meant now. "oh."

"vi, please." but she didn't let go. you didn't want to loose control, but you were starving. you needed to eat before you ended up killing yourself but for the first time in all of your life, you'd truly been tempted. you'd been tempted to feed off a human but that wasn't you, you wouldn't hurt somebody. you wouldn't kill somebody. but with the hunger that you felt then, you were sure that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop.

vi's hands were on you, her eyes searching yours even as you tried to back away. but vi was keen, she didn't let you move. her hands held an iron grip on you, sapphire eyes boring into your own. "feed off me."

your eyes went wide as saucers, whipping your head towards her so fast you were sure you'd gotten whiplash. "what?" is the only word that fell from your lips, your brows now pinched together and your hands shaking impossibly more. what she was asking you to do, it wasn't just dangerous, it was suicidal.

but her hands didn't stop soothing up and down your arms, she didn't even seem afraid of you. she should be, she really should be. even you were afraid of yourself. "you're in pain." she noted by the way your face had contorted from the minute she stepped into the room. with her being here, it would only be harder to control your urges and she didn't want you to have to do that. "let me help you, sweet girl."

but you didn't feel anything alike 'sweet' in that given moment. you glanced up at her, doey eyes coated with a glossy cover of tears. "vi, 'm really hungry." a whole whimper falling from your lips. "i can't―I wouldn't be able to stop― I don' wanna hurt you." but god, were you tempted.

"hey." her fingers brushing up and down your arms so gently. "everythings gonna be okay, cupcake, y'just gotta let go, 'kay?" she was reaching her arm up towards you, your eyes impossibly wide. "jus' let go for me, angel."

but you couldn't. you wouldn't. but her wrist lay in front of you, pumping. and you suddenly felt dizzy. "vi." you whimpered, the first tear falling down your doll-like cheek.

"'s okay." she cooed, soothing you. "'s okay just let me help you." she watched as your gaze turned back to her wrist, head feeling all floaty like and your eyes a little hazy. "jus' wanna help you." but even she was beginning to feel light headed, and you hadn't even began. sure, she wanted to help you and she'd do that a thousand times over, only a tiny feeling at the bottom of her stomach was laced with fear. then she remembered who was standing in front of her. her sweet and lovely y/n, you'd do no wrong, you wouldn't hurt her. even if you fed from her. "bottoms up." she mumbled.

she watched as your face contorted lightly, almost in pain as your mouth opened, fangs seeping out from your teeth. you whimpered gently as vi guided her wrist towards your mouth. hesitantly, you looked at her to which she nodded. in your starvation? more than enough for you. you gently sunk your teeth into her skin.

vi inhaled, squeezing in a breath as a light pain trickled around her body. but she didn't scream or yell about. that was the thing about vi, pain tolerance like no other. her free hand came down to your head, pressing against the crown of your hair. "that's a good girl." she spoke, gently stroking your hair. "see? you're okay."

but your mind wasn't focusing on her words, they were merely entering one ear and getting tossed out the next. your teeth were impaled in her skin, the blood filling your mouth. your eyes shut, a little noise of relief leaving your lips. your hands moved to press her wrist closer against your mouth. it tasted so good.

almost instantly, you felt the colour return to your face, the eye bags wash away as relief pumped through your veins.

you never drank human blood but this wasn't just any human, it was vi. and it tasted better than any animal you'd ever seen, you were sure it'd taste better than any human, too.

you could have drank the blood until her body run dry. but you couldn't. in fear of hurting her, you took your mouth away from her wrist, pulling away as your eyes flickered back up to hers, checking for any sign of regret.

you were blinking harshly, trying to let the blood set in after not drinking in weeks. while your body was swaying gently, vi was still ever so still. her eyes were a little hazy as her lips curved upwards. her thumb came down to meet your mouth, gently smearing the blood that had been on it around your bottom lip. she tapped your cheek causing you to part your mouth. instantly, she stuck her blood-covered thumb between your lips.

you whimpered softly against the skin, your eyes fluttering shut. "'s a good girl." she mumbled. "so good."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist

[jawdzzzz]

Emotions Legacy Challenge:

Dive deep into the world of feelings with The Sims 4 Emotions Legacy Challenge. In this unique and engaging gameplay, your task is to build a family legacy that explores the vast spectrum of human emotions across generations. Each generation focuses on a different emotion, challenging your Sims in unique and impactful ways that shape their lives and the lives of their descendants. Packs Required: Base Game Expansion Packs - Get To Work, Get Together, City Living, Cats & Dogs, Seasons, Get Famous, Island Living, Discover University, Eco Lifestyle, Snowy Escape, Cottage Living, High School Years, Growing Together, Horse Ranch, For Rent Game Packs - Outdoor Retreat, Spa Day, Vampires, Parenthood, Dream Home Decorater, My Wedding Stories Stuff Packs - Spooky Stuff, , Vintage Glamour, Moschino Stuff, Nifty Knitting, Rules: - Lifespan - Normal - Custom Content & Mods Allowed - No Money Cheats Allowed -You don't have to complete all tasks if you don't want to. I have put an * next to the optional tasks - Each heir including the founder must closely represent their assigned emotion as much as possible including the colors, house, appearance, etc - If you decide to do this challenge please use the #emotionslegacychallenge so i'll be able to see your founder and heirs' stories! - If you're planning on streaming or uploading videos of this challenge please promote me or give me a shoutout - Attributes help get your sim in their emotion or are special interactions you can do to make your sim feel like their emotion ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gens: Gen One Happy: You're the founder of the legacy. You grew up in Pleasantview and you're looking forward to your life as an independant adult! You're a very positive, bubbly and happy person. You never go a day without smiling and laughing. You thrive for having that white picket house on elm street and living a normal happy life! You're seeking fun, a career in your passionate hobbie & settling down having children.

Colours - Green & Yellow Traits - Childish, Cheerful & Art Lover Aspiration - Painter Extraordinaire World - Willow Creek

Complete the Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration

Have the Homey, Natural Light & Sunny Aspect lot traits

Have the Simple Living lot challenge

Perform 20 gigs as an artist freelancer

As an adult quit and join the gardener, education or painter career

Achieve level 10 in the painting & parenting skills

Achieve at least level 5 in cooking & gardening

Live with a roomate for 2 sim weeks

Have a best friend & 3 good friends

Live in a starter home for your young adult life (as an adult till death live in a two story family home worth more than $75,000)

Always have and maintain a healthy garden

Fall in love & marry a homeless sim

Adopt a dog or rescue a stray dog

Volunteer & donate to charities once a week

Have three children, your second child is your gen two heir… Maintain a difficult relationship dynamic with your second born & a close relationship dynamic with your first & third born

Emotion Attributes:

Cheerful Vlog (The More Views Video Station)

Heartfelt Compliment

Brighten Day

Happy Text Another Sim

Cheer up at least 3 different sims from a sad mood

Maintain & have a healthy garden

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gen Two Sad: You're the second born and get constantly overshadowed by your older and younger siblings. Your parents love the rainbows and sunshine whilst you prefer the cold wet weather and getting your rainboots all wet and soggy. Crying is how you comfort yourself... Oh and music, you love music. Music is your escape from your reality and is what you most relate to Colours - Blue & Black Traits - Gloomy, Music Lover, Cat Lover Aspiration - Musical Genius World - Oasis Springs

Complete the musical genius aspiration

Reach level 10 in piano & violin

Reach level 5 of cross stitching & knitting

Have the Great Acoustics , Cat Friendly & Cat Hangout lot traits

Join the entertainer career (musician branch) reach level 10

Runaway from home as a teenager & move to an empty lot (off the grid)

Live in a trailer/caravan as a teen. Build a tiny home as a young adult when you own $10,000 or more

Rescue a stray cat and bring it home as a teenager

Busk for tips playing piano & violin your whole teen years

Find a penpal, later make them in CAS & fall in love with them

Own at least three cats & be close with all of them

Perform at all talent shows

Have one child only

Emotion Attributes: Sad Vlog (The More Views Video Station) Express Melancholy Thoughts (Private journal) Water Plant with Tears Play with Emotion (Violin) Call Sadness Hotline (Phone) Blog About Feelings (Computer) Give Yourself a Pep Talk (Mirror) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Three Fear:

Your childhood upbringing was difficult, your gen sad parent was always spiraling in sad breakdowns & always being gloomy. You're a paranoid sim, just thinking about the littlest things in life you fear the present & future. Reading books would help distract your mind & sleeping with a night light on helped comfort you from the darkness of the world... You also fear of the monster hiding under your bed. You hope to one day be an inspiring author and protect other sims from the fear of... FEAR. Colours - Purple & Black Traits - Paranoid, Loner, Perfectionst Aspiration - Bestselling Author World - San Myshuno Goals:

Achieve level 10 in writing & logic skills

Complete the writer career Author Branch

Complete the bestselling author aspiration

Have at least 4 fears (you can choose whichever and to overcome whichever fear you want)

Have the Quake Zone lot challenge

Have the Good Schools, Science Lair & On Ley Line lot traits

Have a girlfriend/boyfriend in high school

Move out as a young adult with your high school sweetheart any apartment you can offord

Become pregnant and have twins

Have your high school sweetheart tragically die after 1 sim week of moving in (you choose the death)

After their death, change the lot type to needs tlc

Be a strict parent & set a curfew for your twins

Never fall in love again or go on dates as a young adult. Eventually find someone that opens yourself up to the potential of having another love as an adult (marriage is optional)

Write novel about losing your soulmate & finally let go

Emotion Attributes: As a child experience the monster being under your bed

Always sleep with a night light on

Experience paranormal activity at least once

Hide Under The Covers (bed)

Take a Panicked Poop (toilet)

Scream incoherently at other sims --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Four Anger:

You grew up with only one parent, the one parent you were stuck with was always so paranoid and scared of the littlest of things. You never understood them, if anything just thinking about their choice of living makes you.... ANGRY. You growing up with only one parent makes you angry, your sibling makes you angry, your family home makes you angry, a fly buzzing at your face makes you angry. Anger is all you have, you don't envision yourself being anything without it, you would simply just float away. Working out & being a heavily opinionuated public speaker in debate is how you cope and manage your volcanic erruptions. Colours - Red, Orange & Black Traits - Active, Geek & Hot Headed Aspiration - Bodybuilder World - Evergreen Harbor Goals:

Master the fitness & Research and Debate skill

Complete the body builder aspiration

Achieve level 5 in mischief, charisma & video gaming

Have the Volcanic Activity lot challenge

Have the Bracing Breezes, Mean Vibe & Gnomes lot trait

Create a gym club & gather least once a week

Join the athlete career & get to level 10 in the bodybuilder branch

Join an after school activity in high school

Skip class and get detention at least once

Get into 5 physical fights & win

Go to university and graduate with a degree in Biology

Join the debate guild & win a debate

Juggle two different relationships in university and choose your one true love before graduating

Have 2 children

Emotion Attributes: Provoke Chew Out Insult Face Denounce Friendship Rant and Rave Vent Shout Forbidden Words Belittle Anger (Child and Teens only) Frenzied Kiss (resembles Passionate Kiss) Sarcastic Compliment Attempt To Flirt Belittle Anger

Angry Vlog (The More Views Video Station) Angry paint (easel) Rage-Fueled Run (treadmill) Angry Poop! (toilet) Enraged Reps (workout machine) Kick Down a Trash Can (trash can) Scribble Furiously as a Teen (Private Journal) Blow Off Some Steam (punching bag) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Five Disgust: Low qualiy items Ughhhh.... Insects.... EWWW.... Townies fashion choices AHHHHHHH! You're gen five disgust and always are craving high quality, bougie outfits & compliments. You want to be an icon & live in the biggest, most fanciest & of course cleanist mansion in all of Del Sol Valley. You avoid getting poisoned socially & physically at all costs! You're out to shape shift society and smack down a celebrity plaque of your own with an iron fist Colours - Green, Purple & Brown Traits - Squeamish, Neat, Snob Aspiration - Mansion Baron World - Del Sol Valley

Goals:

Achieve level 10 in the wellness & charisma skill

Complete the mansion baron aspiration

Complete the style influencer career (any branch)

Have the Creepy Crawlies lot challenge

Have the Celebrity Home, Convival & Romantic Aura lot traits

Create at least 3 fashion looks on Trendi as a teen

Own a fashion boutique & get it to 5 stars

Give at least 5 sims a makeover at the styling station

Become best friends with a celebrity & enemies with a celebrity

Become friends with 5 celebrities

Go for a manicure and pedicure at least once a week

Have two or more outfits for each clothing category *

Maintain a healthy lifestyle (eat healthy & exercise)

Have a house of staff (either butler, maid, gardener, chef or all) to maintain your house to perfection so it's neat and tidy

Reach at least 1 million simstagram followers

Become a 5 star celebrity & place your celebrity tile at Starlight Boulevar Love Story (Young Adult): You applied and won to be the next bachelorette

Live in a manor with 7 men, women or a mix of both for 7 sim days

Connect and speak to all 7 sims, go on group dates, speed dates or 1 on 1 inclusive dates

After 7 sim days choose the 3 sims you have the closest relationship with either friendship or romance

Go on vacation with those 3 sims and dedicate 1 day to each of the 3 sims

After the third day make your choice of who you want as your lover

Move in together, get married & have 4 children --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Six Envy: You're heavily inspired by your parents lifestyle, you crave the attention they receive, you crave their hair, you crave their wealth, you crave... Being them... wanting to be them... No wait.... BEING BETTER! You're wanting to be... BETTER! You're jealous & insecure of your parents success and want a lavish lifestlye of your own starting from the ground up. You want a penthouse uptown and to become known for not being the offspring of a celebrity.... But being your own celebrtiy

Colours - Celeste & White Traits - Ambitious, Materialistic, Jealous Aspiration - Fabulously Wealthy World - San Myshuno Goals:

Live in the fashion district as a young adult

After aging to an Adult move to an uptown penthouse

Become a Freelance Fashion Photographer & complete 10 gigs

Join the acting career and reach level 10

Complete the Fabulously Weather Aspiration (without using parents money)

Have the Pricy, Penny Pixies & Natural Light lot traits

Have a close relationship with gen 5 disgust

Master the media production, acting & photography skill

Become a 5-star celebrity & place your celebrity tile in Starlight Boulevard

Become friends with 2 celebrities before becoming a celebrity

Get in a relationship with a celebrity before becoming a celebrity

Have 4 children like your gen disgust parent --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Seven - Embarassed You tried living up to your grandparents and parents reputation and celebrity status but you struggled.... Struggled hard. No matter what you do you always seem to do it wrong or get judged. You're the blacksheep and misfit. You slip up quite a lot so you distance yourself from your immediate families lifestyle and look elsewhere... Or should i say hide elsewhere.

Colours - Pink & Yellow Traits - Clumsy, Socially Awkward, Cringe Aspiration - Master Mixologist World - Brindleton Bay Goals:

Master mixology, pet training and bowling skills

Reach level 5 of handiness & woodworking

Master the Culinary Mixologist Branch

Have a difficult relationship with your gen six Envy & siblings

As a teenager create a bowling club & go bowling with your friends

Have all friends have a cringe or socially awkward sim trait

Adopt or rescue a dog & cat

Have the Homey, Training Ground & Peace and Quiet lot trait

Have the Gremlins lot challenge

Complete at least 5 of these:

Walk into someone having woohoo

Get reject to prom

Have a dance battle

Pee yourself at least once

Sing karaoke poorly once

Get rejected from proposing

Walk into someone whilst they're peeing

Create 5 embarrassed vlogs

Emotion Attributes: Ask for reassurance Self-deprecating joke Share insecurities Have a cry (children and teens only) Laugh at Embarrassment (children, teens and unfeeling sims only.) Activities Hide from everyone (bed) Give yourself a pep talk (mirror) Tell self-deprecating jokes (social interaction) Hide in the trash can (children only) Confess Embarrassing Moments (private journal—children and teens only) Discuss Embarrassing Mood Embarassed Vlog (The More Views Video Station) --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Eight Bored (Ennui) You're easily bored... You think life is boring and you're boring. Everything is boring. You succome to boredom and get consumed by boredom. You're always contemplating what to do and before you know it it's 5pm and you haven't done any chores or maintained yourself... Video games take up too much of your time, you're a gamer who has more interest in the games they play rather than their own life the SCI-FI genre has consumed you... Until one day.... You seek adventure like your favorite video gaming characters and crave the impossible!

Colours - Grey, Dark Blue & Black Traits - Lazy, Slob, Glutton Aspiration - Computer Whiz World - Windenburg Goals:

Reach level 10 in programming, video gaming & rocket science skill

Build a rocket and travel to sixam

Complete the computer whiz aspiration

Reach level 10 in the Scientist Career

Have the Filthy lot challenge

Build an underground secret headquarters

Live in a rundown filthy house as a Young Adult (grow a trash plant and have a cowplant as a pet)

Make your house modern as an Adult

Go on vacation at all possible destination worlds you have

Go to all the festivals in San Myshuno

Have a pet raccoon

Marry & have 3 children with an Alien

Have Gen Nine as a science baby

Emotion Attributes: Suggest fun activities Complain about boredom Discuss Bored Mood --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Nine Surprise THERES A PARTY.... WHERE? AT MY HOUSE! YOU'RE ALL INVITED..... WHERE? AT MY HOUSE! Party party party! You love to party. You're a bull of energetic energy. Your parents life was always so boring at first, you don't want a waste a single minute of life... You want to have fun, fun & more fun. You hope to live your life to the fullest and enjoy different elements! Turn up the volume to 100 and lets get cracking! Colours - Yellow & White Traits - Goofball, Dance Machine, Insider Aspiration - Party Animal World - Chestnut Ridge Goals:

Have the Party Place & Clothing Optional lot trait

Sneek out of your family home at least once as a teenager

Throw a teen party (try not to get caught by your parents)

Own a pet horse and become best friends

Master the comedy, dancing & dj mixing skills

Play guitar as a hobbie

Make your earnings by doing comedy at longues or dj mixing at dance clubs for your whole sim life

Get gold in every party event that is visible (not including the wedding party events)

Woohoo at every possible woohoo location

Create a club gathering with your siblings & friends and go clubbing at least twice a week

Have 2 children --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Ten Guilt: Your parents were too busy partying and living their life to the fullest that they unintentionally didn't spend enough time with you. Without learning morals, boundaries, rights & wrongs you decide to make a go of it yourself. You think "why settle for less"... "why only have one thing when you can have both". No matter how many excuses you end up giving yourself though, you can't help but feel guilty.... Colours - Orange & Brown Traits - Kleptomaniac, Hates Children, Noncommittal Aspiration - Serial Romantic World - San Sequoia Goals:

Acheive level 10 in Law Career - Judge Branch

Complete the Serical Romantic Aspiration

Master the mischef, charisma & singing skills

Have the Cursed lot challenge

Purchase the street gallery, make paintings and mark up the price to 300% to scam townies least once

Take a selfie before breaking up with every relationship & display the selfies on the wall

Serenade all your relationships at least once

Live in a rental containing at least 4 units

Steal an item from each unit

Earsdrop, Snoop for Secrets and break into each unit least once

Blackmail a sim at least once

Get married to a sim that lives in the same rental

Have a one time secret affair after getting married

Have 2 children, 1 with your secret affair being a spellcaster --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Eleven - Hate What is there to love? Your parent has destroyed the normal family dynamic. Love at times can entrance but it doesn't stand a chance. It only leaves to heartbreak. Your heart is broken. You were never shown love, except for it to be used and taken away from you. All you have is hatered... Hate for everything and anything. You relate to your sibling with you both being pulled into a dark void, you've both reached the precipice of darkness and have been consumed. If you both couldn't have love than why should others, it's time to destory happy endings together as a dynamic duo.... Did someone say two heirs in one?

Colours - Black, Purple & Red Traits - Mean, Evil, Unflirty Aspiration - Villainous Valentine World - Forgotten Hollow or Glimmerbrook Goals:

Have one Join the criminal & the other the secret agent career

Have the Vampire master Pipe Oragan & Vampire Lore & the Spellcaster master the Medium skill

Have one complete the Villainous Valentine Aspiration & one complete the Public Enemy

Have the On a Dark Ley Line, Registered Vampire Lair & Vampire Nexus lot traits

Have the Cursed lot challenge

Have both sims fail in one relationship each

Breakup with a sim on love day

Convince a sim to breakup with another sim

Have a total of 10 enemies (5 for each)

Have an Atrocious reputation & throw a Lampoon Party

Have one turned into a Vampire & earn the master vampire title and have the other turned into a Spellcaster & earn the Rank 6 - Virtuoso After they both reach their mastered title choose 1 twin to be the center lead

Turn a townie into a Vampire or Spellcaster (depending on which sibling) & move them into your household

Form an Enemies to Lovers relationship with them --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gen Twelve - Love You're the last heir. The last of a family lineage of a variety of different emotions. You're the final straw... The last page of the book. Love is the most powerful thing in the world. You think to yourself "how does someone evil create something so good... unless". You believe in self love and for everyone to have the ability to love and find redemption. You seek to have that classic fairytale and live happily ever after with your soulmate.

Colours - Pink, Red & White Traits - Romantic, Generous, Loyal Aspiration - Soulmate World - Tartosa & Henford-on-Bagley Goals:

Complete the Interior Decorator Career

Master the flower arranging skill

Complete the Soulmate aspiration

Have the Romantic Aura, Child's Play & Great Soil

Have a close relationship with all of your siblings

Have a childhood crush & seperate best friend

Always celebrate love day

Have one pet mate & have a puppy/kitten

Attend the wedding of at least one sibling

Attend the wedding of your childhood best friend

Get engaged to your childhood crush at the romance festival

Throw all wedding party events

Go on a honeymoon with lover

Have 5 Children As an Elder:

Master either cross stiching or knitting

Move to Henfod-on-Bagley and build a Cottage Home

Befriend a wild rabbit & fox

Have chickens, sheep, goat, cow & ilama live on your lot

Grow a money tree

Have at least one grandchild and be close with them

Bond with siblings & rekindle with your gen dark parent

Die peacefully as an elder

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ There you have it, Congratulations! You have completed my emotions legacy challenge. I created this legacy challenge all by myself so i hope that this challenge has given you all motivation, satisifcation & enjoyment. This challenge was inspired by inside out which is one of my favorite disney pixar films. Please let me know how you found playing this challenge and give me any feedback you may have for ways i can improve or if there is something i need to fix!

Feel free to find my socials: Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/jawdzzz

Youtube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjBjFUvYYlD4pSMRCSdDi5A Twitter - https://twitter.com/Jawdzzzz Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/jawdzzzzy/?hl=en Tiktok - https://www.tiktok.com/@jawdzzzz #sims4 #thesims4 #sims4legacychallenge #jawdzzz #sims410genlegacychallenge #the sims legacy #challenge #twitch #ts4 #ts4legacy

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Say your prayers little girl

Vampire Priest Joel Miller x f!stripper reader

Warnings: Dark fic/Dead Dove, non/dubcon (non bc he uses his powers on her taking away her consent but she does want it), religious theme, p in v (wrap ya dick kids), vampirism, blood, neck biting, mentions of sex work, oral (f receiving), dark fluff?? (The ending ended up softer than I intended), squirting, I believe that’s it!

Summary: Working in the adult industry tends to leave a bad taste in people’s mouth when they find out about your job. Growing up the church has been the only place you’ve been able to find solace and that’s where you seek solace now.

A/n: So I have no experience fucking vampiric priests but I do have religious trauma and a deep seeded need to fuck creatures of the night. Lightly edited, not beta’d, all mistakes are mine! Enjoy!(:

(Mood board made by moi 😇)

Living in LA is nothing like you imagined. Growing up in the Midwest, you moved out here for a fresh start with the hopes and dreams of becoming a movie star. Those hopes and dreams were dashed rather quickly when you struggled to find acting jobs and instead had to resort to working at a high end gentleman’s club. If you were being honest you did enjoy working at the club. You liked the attention, you liked the other dancers but most of all the money. However outside of the club it seemed as though everyone knew what you did for a living and despised you for it. Never in your life have you felt so judged by every passing face. You purposely wear an extra large hoodie with the hood up and sweat pants on just to go to the grocery store.

After working at the club for a few months, one night, around 3am, you were just getting off work. It was a chilly early Sunday morning, the streets covered in fog. Normally you drive to and from work but this particular night you didn’t have your car since it broke down on you a few nights ago. Walking the few blocks to your apartment you just happened to glance down the street you were crossing and saw a church sitting on the corner. Having only lived in the area for a few months, you hadn’t really explored it. Noticing the church doors were open, you decided to walk down to the church and take a peek inside. You grew up in the church. Your family went every sunday, your mom was the Sunday school teacher and your father and brothers regularly volunteered to help be alter boys or set up for fundraisers or whatever else the church needed. You always struggled with what they taught and stood for. If God is the one and only that you should worship why are we praying to all of these patron saints? If God answers prayers why isn’t he answering the prayers of those starving? Of those that are abused or dying from illness? Why does Debra from Mississippi who is judgmental and mean to others get her prayers of a fancy new car get answered but not little Susie who prays she gets taken away from her abusive father? At a rather young age, you struggled immensely with your faith and beliefs but you always found the church to be a place of comfort.

Approaching the front doors you notice some lights were on and someone was playing the organ. You slowly walked up the steps and went through the doors. As you walked in, there were pews on either side, a few random stragglers scattered all over and in front was an alter of Mary surrounded by lit candles and flowers laid at her feet. You passed the first two pews, choosing to stand in the back and just observe. You could hear someone quietly crying and sniffling, a couple of others whispering the rosary and before you know it you can hear soft footsteps behind you.

The sound of a man clearing his throat comes from behind you, making you jump and turn around.

“Well hello there. And who might you be?” says the priest with a smile.

Putting your hand over your fast beating heart, “Oh hi I’m so sorry Father. I saw the doors were open and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve always found comfort in the church.” You tell him as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you sweetheart, I’m Father Joel. Unfortunately we are about to close for the day. You see we like to keep rather strange hours for those who seek out the lord when others are usually in bed. But we will open back up at 10 o’clock tonight if you would like to come back.” He says sweetly as he touches your arm. You can’t help but have this overwhelming feeling of calm. You feel safe and wanted? Your not sure if wanted is the right word but it’s the closest to what you feel. The two of you smile at each other as the priest lifts open his other arm as a guide for you to go back out the doors you entered. You cast your eyes down as you walk back out into the early morning fog. Before you go to step down you turn back around only to be greeted by closed doors.

Hmm that’s weird. You didn’t hear the doors shut. In fact you didn’t hear anything nor did you see the other people leave. Confused as to what just happened you continue on your way back home.

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It’s been six months since you first discovered the church. You try to go as often as you can finding comfort not only in the church but with Father Joel as well. It didn’t take long for him to catch on to what you did for a living. But he never made you feel bad for it. In fact he seemed to be proud of you. One night you were on stage at work and you swore you saw his face in the crowd. That same night you found an envelope in your locker stuffed with money. Five thousand dollars to be exact. But today you decided to take the night off and go spend time at the church. The real reason why you liked to spend so much time there was Father Joel. You couldn’t help but be attracted to him. He had these beautiful brown eyes, fluffy curls on top of his head, the sweetest smile he seemed to save just for you. Oh and his smell! He had this scent to him, a clean yet woodsy scent that never failed to travel from your nose directly to your cunt. Ever since you’ve met him, you’ve been having these dreams of Father Joel. In these dreams you usually run into him in random places, sometimes it’s your house other times it’s a trail in a park you find yourself walking on. But every time he always gives you this look, a rather creepy smile and his eyes change color making him look evil before he dips his head down and kisses your throat. Always leaving kisses on your throat, kissing up your neck, nibbling on your ear sending the most delicious chills up your spine. You always feel this mix of being scared of him and also needing him so bad you might explode if he doesn’t touch you. Most of the dreams are just that. Running into Father Joel, him kissing your throat and neck and then you wake up. However lately the dreams have gone further. He’s started kissing your lips, you swear it feels as though he is actually pushing his tongue into your mouth and he’ll undress you leaving you naked and vulnerable. All for him he’d say as his eyes scan your body much like a predator would size up its prey. In your dream last night it was the same thing except this time after Father Joel undressed you he pulled his cock out, turned you around and pushed his cock in in one thrust. It felt so real you almost forgot it was a dream. He thrusted only a few times before you woke up only to be laying on a wet spot. As you jumped up off the bed, you gave it a quick sniff to make sure you didn’t pee. And sure enough it wasn’t pee. You must have been so turned on from your dream that your juices leaked out of your panties and left a little spot on your sheets.

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It’s already 11 o’clock at night when you make your way to the church. Wearing your favorite black dress with cap sleeves that hang off the shoulder and the bottom hits a little above your knees, you already feel better as you come into view of your sanctuary. Walking right in you immediately run into Father Joel hitting him square in the chest.

“Woah there little one. Not so fast now” he chuckles as he helps you straighten yourself back up. His hands holding your biceps as he stills and just stares at you.

“Father Joel I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You say breathlessly with a chuckle. Your smile almost wiped clean off your face when you see the way he’s looking at you. His eyes. . .

Almost in a flash his eyes go back to their normal brown shade and he smiles at you again.

“You look beautiful tonight. Go on go find a seat in the front row. I’ll be in there soon.” Father Joel tells you. As if by magic you quickly walk to the front pew and sit down. You body moved automatically as if you had no say in your body at all.

Folding your hands in your lap, you look straight ahead at the alter of Mary. Her statue looks as if she’s looking down at you with a soft,caring look on her face. A look that’s almost as if she feels sorry for you.

Soon enough you feel Father Joel’s presence next to you. However you’re stuck. Frantically moving your eyes all around, You realize you can’t move your neck or your arms or any part of your body. Starting to feel scared, your stuck sitting down, facing forward with your hands in your lap. That’s when you feel Father Joel’s hand land on your thigh.

“You know sweetheart it’s not appropriate to wear pretty little dresses like this to church.” Comes his husky low voice whispering in your ear, “especially at night all alone.” His hand starts to slowly move up your thigh, pushing your dress up.

Gasping as if you’re just now able to catch your breath, you can feel your body and your able to move again. You barely move your head to the left when you felt his face on yours. His nose brushes your cheek and you can feel his warm breath on your face. His lips almost touching your cheek.

“You never know who or what you’ll run into sweetheart.” He says as he continues to push up your dress, his thumb rubbing your thigh. Soon your dress is pushed all the way up, exposing your black panties underneath.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says tsking, “you’re wet. Don’t you know lust is a sin baby?” Father Joel said in a very low, hushed tone. He took his finger and rubbed up your clothed slit making you notice the wet spot on your panties.

Sucking his teeth he makes a disappointing noise,

“F-fa-father Joel w-what are you doing? I- we we can’t do this! Y-you’re a priest.” You hurriedly whispered to him. In your head you wanted him to touch you, you wanted your dreams to come true but you also knew he took vows as a priest. There was no way he could ever have relations with you. Not in the way you wanted.

“Oh sweetheart don’t be so naive,” he says as he nips at your neck, “I never said I was a good man. I never said I was a man at all.”

Terrified at the last thing he just said, you turn to face him and that’s when you see his pupils have gone black and his lips pushed back, exposing fangs.

You gasp, eyes go wide as you take in the sight of a man you thought you knew.

“Now get on your knees and pray.” He demands.

Your body obeys his demands as you sink to your knees and you bend forward, resting on your forearms, clasping your hands together as your bow your head in prayer.

You happen to glance up at the statue of Mary and she’s crying tears of blood! The flames of the candles seem to be flickering even higher and you notice there’s no other noise, no music, no murmurs. You feel Father Joel kneel behind you, his big hands gripping your hips and bringing your ass to meet his crotch.

“Mm you’re such a good, obedient little one,” Joel croons as he grabs your hair and pulls you up so your back is touching his chest, “Don’t worry baby you’ll like this next part.” Smirking, he whispers in your ear before opening his mouth and biting down on your neck just below your ear.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, the searing pain you feel from the bite. Tears start to fall down your face, you’ve never felt a worse pain than this. The pain seems to get worse, you can feel him sucking the area he just bit. All too soon you feel your energy drain.

Licking his lips, “Mm you have the sweetest taste my little one. You’re mine now. Your blood is mine, your body is mine.” He says in a hushed tone as he begins to lick your wound, laying chaste kisses on and around it as he goes. As weak as you are, you can’t help but feel these licks and kisses, it’s almost as if they’re in high definition. In fact all your senses feel sharper, more defined. Joel brings his wrist up to his mouth slicing open his wrist on a fang.

“Open wide my little one, I need you to drink the body and blood of your savior.” Joel says as he lifts his bleeding wrist to your open mouth. You suddenly find yourself extremely thirsty, your throat burning. When he offers his wrist, you suck down every drop greedily.

“Mm ooohh yes just like that baby drink every drop.” He moans out loud. Hearing him moan as you drink from him turns you on. Makes you want to do more to cause him to make those sounds.

Your face is covered in blood just like Father Joel’s as he pulls his wrist from your mouth and shoves your head down, forcing you back into a bow.

"Give your body to me now, let your savior in little one." Joel grunts out as he let's go of the back of your head and reaches down to pull your panties down. They drop around your knees, your hands go to clasp in prayer again as you feel him pull his cock out and rub it up and down your soaked folds.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, my cunt craves your cock Father. Please fuck me. Use my body, it's yours." You confess to him. This man, this creature, whoever and whatever he is; you want him. Your very soul now craves him.

Grunting, Joel slowly dips the head of his cock in your entrance, just barely giving you the tip before he pulls back and dips back in, giving you a little at a time. After a few teases, he pulls out and thrusts his cock in in one swift motion, filling you like no one has ever filled you. He begins to pump his cock in and out, you can feel your walls stretching just to try and accommodate his length.

"Ooohhgg nnggg yes father!! Oh fuck me! Fuck my cunt father!" You moan loudly, without a care in the world, "My body is yours! All yours! Fuck your cunt Father!" You scream out as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

Hearing you declare yourself to him has Joel ready to bust. He's been watching you this entire time. From the very first meeting that he orchestrated, he knew you'd be so sweet and everything he wants and needs. He first saw you walking into the club, you looked too young and innocent to be a dancer. He immediately tapped into your thoughts and was able to discover everything he needed to know. Like how you're new to the area and very much alone and how you struggle with your faith in God but find comfort in the church. That gave him the idea to set up a trap just for you. See Joel owned this house on the corner. It's one of many, and this particular one, he decided to decorate it like a church. One day, he just happened to walk by your apartment and saw your car parked out front. Good thing he happened to be there because your car was leaking fluids, and Joel just happened to have a knife on him and he cut your fluid lines. It took you a couple of days but eventually, you stumbled upon his church and now he has you right where he wants you.

Joel continues to pound into you over and over, spearing you on his cock. The head kisses your cervix, making you scream out in pleasure. You can’t help but fuck yourself back on his cock. Pushing back on him almost as hard as he’s pushing into you. You feel yourself getting so close, never having felt a cock fuck you so good you came from penetration alone. You just need a little bit of attention to your clit.

“Fuck that’s it baby just like that. Fuck yourself on my cock. Nngh ooh oh fuck”

You feel Father Joel’s thrusts start to stutter, after a few more thrusts you can feel his dick pulse inside you, coating your walls with his thick load. You let out a whine as you feel him pull out. You were so close to coming, if only you could’ve touched yourself a little bit you would’ve came but he finished before you got a chance.

Joel pulls out and holds your pussy lips open with his thumbs as he admires his cum slowly pushing out of your entrance.

Hearing your whine Joel grabs your hips and helps roll you on your back. Once your completely on your back, he opens your legs, pushing your knees back up in your chest,

“Oh you poor thing. You didn’t get to cum yet did you? You just let me use this pretty little cunt huh? Don’t worry sweetheart it’s my turn to worship your heavenly body at the alter I built just for you.” Joel says to your sore pussy. Looking down at Father Joel, watching him stare at your cunt has you whimpering as he lowers his face and licks a wide stripe up your slit. Holding your legs up and he keeps his hands on the backs of your thighs, you can’t help but gush even more as he begins to suck on your clit as though it’s the most delicious piece of hard candy he’s ever tasted. You feel your high begin to build again in no time.

Joel can’t help but moan into your pussy. The taste of you and him combined is the sweetest nectar he has had the pleasure of experiencing. He starts to swirl his tongue around your clit while simultaneously sucking on it making you squirm around. His grip on your thighs tightens as he continues to feast from your body.

“Ooh oh fuck right there! Right there! Oh fuck! Yessss!” You scream out loud as you hit the hardest orgasm you’ve ever received. You pussy gushes so hard you actually squirt, watching it hit Joel in the face. He has a look of intense hunger as he opens his mouth to collect every drop.

Joel’s mouth leaves your body as you continue to lay there with legs shaking. He slowly lifts up and looks at you with a devilish grin.

“Let’s get you home and cleaned up my love. There’s a lot I have to teach you and show you now that you’re mine.” Joel says as he pulls your panties up. Finally starting to get your wits about you, you realize your covered in blood. So is he. Joel goes to stand to fix himself when he rips the white collar out,

“Don’t need this anymore” he chuckles as he throws it to the side. He reaches back down, placing an arm under your back and the other arm under your legs and picking you up like a baby, cradling you to his body.

Glancing around the empty church, “Father Joel what happened to the other people who were in here?” You ask.

“ Just Joel baby. You can call me Joel. And they were all an illusion my love. Merely a figment of your imagination. I had to make this church believable for you sweetheart. If I kept it empty you would’ve been suspicious. I couldn’t have that now could I?” He replies.

Despite all of the red flags that have been going off, you are perfectly content. Happy to be in his arms as he walks out the doors and down the steps to a car parked outside. Carefully opening the door, Joel sits you down in the passenger seat before shutting the door and walking around to the drivers side to get in.

Once inside the car, Joel starts up the engine and goes to grab your hand,

“Let’s go home my love” he says to you smiling. You smile back at him, ready to spend the rest of your days by his side.

A/n: I hope y’all enjoyed this! It literally came to me the other night while I was getting dicked down lol (: anyways yea. Thank you so so much for every like/reblog/comment! You guys are the best!♥️

[lizzychanstuffss]

Omg maybe Astarion somehow being able to see a reality where he ascended and the dark urge ruled with him

his reaction could be good or bad 🧐 maybe both

BARK BARK BARK you are my first dark urge request so I am excited to write this! Also since I enjoy the idea of some angst with this I am going to say this takes place post-game with a good durge and spawn Astarion :3

Astarion x Redeemed!durge!Tav GN

Spoilers for the entire game. Also, forgive me if the details aren't perfect, I am fairly aware of what happens but for my own sanity I haven't actually seen these endings XD

Requests are still open!

You couldn't sleep, no particular reason this time either, just no matter what you did, tiredness would not take you. Honestly, you considered just taking a walk and seeing if it would tire you out although you didn't want to leave Astarion alone without telling him where you were going. It was something you realized he preferred once you started living together after everything that's happened. It was cute.

So instead of taking a walk you just stared out the window from your shared bedroom of the house you had made your own. The sun was starting to rise already which means that your 'night' was just starting. Converting to a nocturnal schedule was something Astarion actually refused to let you do at first, but considering that if you didn't you would basically never spend any time together he eventually relented. Oddly enough it wasn't a hard switch either you actually preferred to be awake at night then the day. You figured this might have been an old habit from your past life.

Astarion had decided to turn in early for the night, the both of you had a rowdy night of mischief-making and partying and well people congratulating you for saving the entire city basically. It was frankly exhausting and you couldn't blame the vampire for needing an early night. He had been in a trance for a while at this point but when you turned to check on him you noticed his brow was furrowed.

It was such a small thing that almost anyone would miss it but not you, you had a keen eye for the microexpressions his face made when he was having complicated emotions. You didn't always understand what they meant or what was going on in his head but you knew something was off with the man. So you crawled back into bed and debated for a moment about waking him up but decided unless he seemed to be in a panic it was best not to wake him. So instead you just put a gentle hand on his arm and then one in his hair stroking it gently.

After a bit of that he seemed to relax again. Before you noticed his eyes half open gazing at you.

"Oh did I wake you?" you asked him.

"No...well yes but don't apologize....I'm glad you did" turning to face you better he gently took the hand that had been on his shoulder and placed it on his face. The gesture surprised you a little. It's not something you had thought he would do.

"Is something wrong, love?" words sincere, he doesn't speak, at least not until he gathers his thoughts a bit.

"I had a dream, no it was more like a vision." he starts "It was about us...but it wasn't 'us' if that makes sense?" he asked, staring at you with one of his classic wet and pathetic cat looks he was prone to making in moments of vulnerability.

"I think I understand like you saw a version of us from another reality?" He nodded in response to your attempt at describing what he saw. "And what was different about this version of us?"

"Well, I'm not sure what entirely to make of it...it was almost like we were the worst versions of ourselves....we seemed happy but also miserable..." His voice trailed off a bit but he continued speaking before you could say anything in response "You had claimed the Crown for Bhaal, but I was ruling by your side...and I think I went through with the ritual" he seemed confused and shocked by own words but also terrified.

"O-oh" was the only thing you could say in response. Suddenly his want for comfort made utter sense and you couldn't help but comply running your thumb across his cheek. He melted into the touch relaxing a bit more.

The two of you stayed like that more a while. The information was quite a shock to both of your systems, but the both of you were thinking about it just unsure of what to say about such a thing. Then you finally spoke up.

"What did you think of this version of us?"

He sat with your question for a bit.

"I'm...I'm not sure....I know I didn't like it, it felt wrong" He sighs, "What do you think about this version of us?" flipping your own question back on yourself, you take a moment to think about how to answer before speaking.

"Considering that Bhaal wanted me to take the crown for himself and rule the world I can assume he...owned me" as hard as it was to admit you fully knew what taking that crown for yourself meant as it would have never been something you choose on your own. "You said you had ascended in the vision as well?"

He nodded "It was awful, it was as though I was looking as someone possessing my body, there was no ‘me’ anymore just a husk of who I thought I was supposed to be..." tearing up a bit "I was exactly like Cazador" he choked out the words sounding disgusted with himself.

"Hey look at me, that's not you though, that's not either of us" you pressed your forehead to his.

"And it never will be, I won't let it be"

His arms wrapped around you pulling you into him, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck finding comfort in it as you held him. A hand coming up to gently play with the curls in his hair as he lets himself calm down in your embrace, although you also felt his hand stroke up and down your back in a soothing motion you weren't sure if it was for you or for himself but it was a nice gesture either way.

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

[gabessquishytum]

Hob in his hedonist morally gray years is a highwayman. He robs fancy carriages and picks pockets and generally fucks around, living for sex and a good fight. One day he comes across a fancy looking carriage and thinks “yep that’s an easy mark. The owner looks like a stiff wind would knock him over.”

So Hob stops the carriage, beats up the driver and opens the door. Inside, the pale, delicate lord stares at him from the dark. He has his curtains drawn.

“Step out of the carriage, sweetheart,” Hob says. He sort of wants to pat him down. Maybe he will. “I’ll be taking that ruby and anything else you’ve got.”

The lord just gives him a little arch look. “Your dreams are full of violence and hedonism,” he says. “Have you no respect for the laws of your society?”

“None,” Hob answers cheerily and crowds into the carriage. He sits on the bench next to him and taps his knife against that sharp, high collar. “Now… you aren’t going to give me trouble, are you?”

The lord isn’t as frightened as Hob expected. That should have been his first sign.

“You seem strong and healthy. Haven’t you found honest work?” The lord makes no effort to flinch back from the knife and Hob digs it against his pale, fine skin.

“Why, when I can steal what I need?”

The lord doesn’t give off much heat, Hob notices, now that he’s close. His eyes in the dark glint. Idly, Hob thinks of a snake. Something cold blooded.

“You’ll do,” the lord muses.

Hob feels the hair on the back of his neck rise. “I’m getting impatient. Hand over that ruby or I’ll have to get rough.” He presses the knife deep enough to pierce skin.

Only it doesn’t. It’s like he’s pressing against marble, not flesh.

Hob jerks back. A hand snatches out, catching his wrist in a vise-like grip, twisting the knife out of his fingers. The lord—flows over him and suddenly Hob is on his back, and there are teeth at his throat.

“What—!” He gasps.

The door of the carriage opens. It’s the guard, who Hob thought he had dispatched, grinning down at him, blood matting one side of his blond hair.

“What do you think, Lord Morpheus?” He asks his lord, who has settled on Hob’s thighs, claws digging into his wrists. “Is he suitable?”

“Yes. No one will question the disappearance of a highwayman,” Morpheus says through a mouth with too many teeth in his pretty red mouth. Hob stares in horror. “And I rather like the idea of taming him.”

Hob struggles against his hold, blood racing through his body.

“What are you,” he gasps. “I didn’t mean—”

“You meant to rob me and kill me. What else might you have done to me?” A too-long tong your lavs eagerly up his neck, curling behind his ear. “Tell me, that I may do it to you.”

“Only scare you,” Hob promises.

“Liar.” Morpheus smiles against his pulse.

His guard closes the door and suddenly the carriage is moving again. The creature purrs, scenting up his cheek. “I never want to take someone good,” Morpheus says. “You are no good man. Yet you are strong. You crave violence. You crave sex. You’ll be able to hold on longer than the others.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing you won’t beg me for. You’ve been aroused since I pinned you.”

Oh god. He’d noticed. Desperate, Hob attempts to slam his head into the lord’s. But the lord dodges.

He catches Hob by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving kitten and smirks down at him. “Don’t fret. I prefer not to kill you. I’d rather like to keep you. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to keep someone. If you’re good, I’ll keep you for centuries, but I’ll have to teach you goodness. I can tell it doesn’t come naturally to you. Poor thing, no one’s ever taught you how to behave, but you’ll take to obedience beautifully, I know it.”

His eyes are mesmerizing. It’s hard to breathe with him so close and Hob … has never so afraid in his life. Nor so hard in his pants. “Are you a vampire? A demon? Are you dragging me to hell for my sins?”

Lord Morpheus pets his hair as if he truly was a stray in need of soothing. “Nothing so simple, Robert Gadling.”

I'm literally obsessed with this!!!!! I've said it before but like. When you guys drop lil snippets and mini fics into my inbox I feel really honoured. You guys have so much talent and I am so grateful that I get to benefit from it <3

Anyway: highwayman hob is. Genius. I love him already. I can imagine him riding around the country and just being an absolute bastard, stealing cash and fancy jewelry and occasionally having his wicked way when his victims seem willing. He absolutely loves his life, but oh dear, karma is coming for him...

Imagine Hob pinned back against the velvet interior of the carriage by Morpheus’s gaze and one hand alone. And Hob is reduced to whimpering like one of his previous victims. The beautiful Lord is caressing and fondling him through his clothes, squeezing his half-hard cock (how is he getting hard?!). All the while the driver watches and grins.

Hob has a horrible feeling that he's going to do exactly as this strange man (being?) tells him. When Lord Morpheus tells him that he's going to be a beautiful, obedient little nightmare, Hob finds himself nodding. Poor thing, he can't help himself.

And when his Lord tells him to kiss that wonderful ruby, the one he was so keen to steal... Hob does exactly that.

Perhaps sometimes Dream needs a little extra human touch for his dreams and nightmares. Perhaps he's found exactly what he was looking for...

[monstersandmaw]

Snowfall - a polyamorous m/m/m fantasy story ft. an elf, a vampire, and a draugr/lich (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

I had a random and vivid dream about a draugr/lich with a secret, living in an old tomb in Skyrim and meeting a twinky, kinda foul-mouthed elven adventurer and his snooty, grumpy, (not-so-)secretly adoring vampire boyfriend. This was the result.

Daethir is pronounced 'day-theer', Nyr 'Neer', and Karsi 'car-si' (with a short 'i' like 'hit').

If you’ve not played Skyrim, none of the lore is needed to enjoy this story. It’s just someone else’s sandbox I’m playing in for some handy, pre-existing lore.

Content: Brief/passing mention of enslavement and mass sacrifice, genocide of an entire species, a tiny bit of blood and threat to life, and Daethir’s inner (and outer) monologue which includes a fair few uses of the word ‘fuck’.

Wordcount: 7589

Despite what the tattered remnants of his pride were trying to tell him, Daethir was most definitely, one hundred percent lost.

He was completely fucking disorientated in this dilapidated shithole of an ancient Nord tomb. He was also incandescently furious about that fact. 

His sense of direction was fucking legendary. He must have explored a hundred underground tombs and dwarven cities, sunk deep into the earth as well as forgotten places consumed by rambling forests, and never once had he got lost before. He’d even been to bloody Labyrinthian! But no. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere maybe three or four hours back, and now he was balls deep in skeever shit and cobwebs, and couldn’t find the way out. 

“Oh man, Karsi must be going berserk out there,” he muttered through clenched teeth, breath billowing in the dark, cold tunnel. 

The draugrs’ strange compulsion to keep the tombs somewhat maintained for their slumbering master meant that there was nearly always light flickering in the sconces on the walls, and braziers were often found burning at the intersections of the tomb’s warren of passageways, and he found himself pathetically grateful that he wasn’t lost in the pitch black at least.

“Hold on, love,” he added as he set his jaw and tried to strain his senses for the faintest lift of a breeze in the stagnant air of the tomb. “I’m coming.” 

He hoped the vampire didn’t hurt himself trying to break through the unique enchantment that seemed to stop the undead from passing through it. Gods, Karsi had practically been spitting venom when he’d discovered he couldn’t enter the tomb with Daethir, no matter what spells he hurled at the doorway. Daethir, as usual, had slipped gleefully through in the blink of an eye and without a backward glance. 

“I didn’t even say goodbye,” he thought bitterly, and the pervasive fear of dying alone in the dark crystallised into something sharper and edged with guilt when he realised that Karsi would never know exactly how he died, and would never be able to recover his lover’s body. “Shit.”

Something moved up ahead and he froze. 

Blue eyes in the dark.

Shit.

A draugr Death Lord from the size of it, and from that ugly horned helmet.

Before he could formulate any sort of plan, hands reached out from the darkness behind him. 

One clasped right over his mouth to form a perfect seal against the scream that rose unbidden from the pit of his stomach, and the other wrapped around his waist, and he found himself lifted bodily off the floor and into an alcove.

Naturally, like the well-trained, level-headed, and seasoned rogue he was, Daethir thrashed in blind and abject panic, lashing out with his heels until a hoarse, scraping voice rasped in his ear, “Auri-el have mercy, stop! I’m trying to save your life!”

Deciding that his luck might have been on the cusp of changing, or that he was about to become easy prey for some maniac who apparently lived down there in the dark tunnels of an ancient Nord tomb, Daethir went limp. He was not put down.

For a long few minutes, neither of them dared move in case the slightest sound attracted the Death Lord who was patrolling the corridor up ahead. Like an extremely loyal but not terribly bright guard dog, it swung its head back and forth, growling and snarling to itself and adjusting its grip on the enormous ebony war axe in its right hand. At the way the light played along the black blade of that axe like firelight on oil, Daethir shuddered involuntarily into the grasp of his mysterious rescuer. 

“Easy,” the voice breathed, right in his ear. His tapering, sensitive, elven ear. 

He shuddered again and tried not to gasp for an entirely different reason this time. Funny how terror and pleasure seemed to go hand in hand for him. After all, he was dating a vampire, and the two of them frequently mixed feeding and fucking, so he was no stranger to a healthy dose of of fear lacing his pleasure. But now was absolutely, categorically not the time to start getting turned on by a strong stranger manhandling him in a dark tomb. Gross, Dae, get it together. 

The hand across his mouth was warm and leathery and strong, and by the faint glimmer of torchlight from beyond their shadowed alcove, he could see the faintest flash of bone-white flesh. Strange, but not totally unusual. People were born without pigment in their skin, after all. Heck, he’d spent an entire summer with an orc carpenter who had the most beautiful red eyes and skin so pale he couldn’t go out in the sun for long without burning. Caedrak hadn’t been able to see more than a foot in front of him, but he’d made the most beautiful things with his big, sensitive hands… 

Dammit, Daethir, pull yourself the fuck together. 

In the distance, the Draugr Death Lord huffed in irritation, then shuffled away in the opposite direction, and the figure behind him relaxed. 

“Before I let go of you, I need you to swear something,” the voice said.

It was a strange voice. Although it was as dry as the coarsest sands from Elsweyr, the consonants were crisply articulated, and it had a strange lilt to it, as though the speaker was used to the music of another language from another age. Karsi spoke a bit like that too, though nowhere near as much as this. Daethir, raised in the Ratway of Riften, spoke like a gutter-skeever with the brash accent to match. 

Still with the person’s hand clamped across his mouth, he couldn't do much to respond beyond a little noncommittal shrug, and received a dry chuckle in response. 

“Fine,” his saviour said with an evident smile, “When I release you, walk forward and do not look back.”

That… That was not what he’d been expecting. And the way the person spoke seemed so heartbreakingly sad that he felt his own chest constrict for a moment. He floundered a little, and, perhaps mistaking the movement for panic, his saviour set his feet back down on the ground. 

Slowly, hesitantly, those spider-pale hands drew back, and of course, Daethir immediately turned around. 

And screamed. 

Flailing, he staggered back into the corridor that had so recently been vacated by the Death Lord, and fell hard onto his backside, sprawled on the damp ground and staring up at the emaciated corpse of another draugr. 

Searing, sapphire blue eyes blazed out of a face devoid of all colour, so much so that for a heartbeat, Daethir thought he was looking at a skeleton, except this person still had flesh and muscle on their frame, even if it had all been withered away over time to white leather stretched over bone. 

Pale lips pulled back off perfect teeth in a grimace, and white, barely-there eyebrows tugged into a hurt expression so profound that Daethir found himself suddenly silenced by it. 

Then, because he was apparently pathologically incapable of keeping his mouth shut, he blurted, “Shit, I’m sorry, I just –”

At a croaking shout of triumph from the connecting tunnel, the pale draugr’s head twitched around and it let out a snarl of its own. “No time. Come on,” and with that, it surged forwards, grabbed Daethir by the wrist and hauled him to his feet with a strength that he would never have expected from a creature so thin. 

Unlike the other draugr he’d encountered on his way down into the depths of the tomb – the ones who’d stumbled around and dragged their bare feet along like stiff, empty Dwarven automata – this one was nimble and lithe, and it wore a loose, undyed linen shift that was belted at the waist and fell halfway down its emaciated thighs. Its feet were bare though, and as it turned and yanked him down a corridor, Daethir had to duck beneath a long, white plait that swung behind it like a flailing ship’s rope in a high wind. 

“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming, ow!” he yelped, trying to keep his feet in the same frantic rhythm while also attempting to twist free of the vice-strong grip of the creature’s fingers. 

“Do not fall behind,” the draugr rasped, and then let go. 

“You’ll show me the way out?” he chirped hopefully, and the draugr glanced back over its shoulder. 

“I’ll take you to –” its eyes went wide and for a moment, Daethir thought the creature had tripped because it turned back abruptly and shoved him hard in the chest, sending him reeling. Daethir’s shoulder struck the tunnel wall and he let out an ‘oof’ of surprise on impact, but a second later, an ebony war axe embedded itself in the damp, softly crumbling stone of a mortuary shelf. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed, staring at the weapon. 

“Run! This way,” the strange, pale draugr gasped, and Daethir followed blindly. 

Something seemed to ripple and shimmer in the wall up ahead, and a blue light pulsed in the draugr’s hand as they charged towards the rockface. The creature seemed to be running straight at the section of wall that was warping disturbingly and Daethir’s feet slowed. 

“Don’t stop! Through the doorway, quick!” the draugr barked. 

“What doorway?!” he yelped, skidding to a stop a few paces behind the apparently mad draugr. “You’re nuts. This place has sent you round the bed. That’s a solid fucking wall right there, I’m not –”

“Come on!” the creature hissed in obvious frustration. It was unnervingly similar to the tone of voice Karsi took with him when he was exasperated, and Daethir was being stupid or stubborn (or both) about something. 

When Daethir didn’t move, and the footsteps and continuous cursing in a language he couldn't understand drifted round the corner from the fast-approaching Death Lord, the odd, silver-haired draugr rolled its eerie, blue eyes and snatched his hand again. 

With a yell of horror and surprise, Daethir was tugged forwards into the wall. He closed his eyes, expecting to be slammed into solid stonework, and was amazed when he found himself staggering right into the chest of the draugr, who nudged him to stand behind its back while it worked some kind of magic on the wall or portal. 

“The fuck…?” he breathed, chest heaving. 

The draugr, still holding his right hand, worked a spell with its left, and the doorway in the wall vanished and returned to looking like uninterrupted rock. 

“That’s never going to fool a draugr,” Daethir said, eyeing the spot sceptically. 

“Fooled you,” the creature quipped and turned to face him, releasing its hold on his hand. 

Daethir opened and closed his mouth like a landed carp for a good three seconds before heat flooded his tanned face and he looked away. “So, what, we’re safe now? And what the fuck are you?”

“Direct, aren’t you?” the creature said archly, and hell, if it didn’t remind Daethir of Karsi’s dry sarcasm.

At that thought, another bolt of guilt lanced through his chest and he looked up at the draugr. It wasn’t surprising that the draugr was taller than he was – it was hard not to be taller than Daethir, provided that one was over the age of about fifteen. He tried out his best smile and hoped it stuck. “It’s one of my many charms. Please, don’t let it stop you from showing me how to get out of this charming tomb you call home.”

The draugr’s soft laugh was like a handful of dry, autumn leaves, rattling around the narrow space that surrounded the two of them. It soon died though, and he let out a long, heavy sigh. 

“Oh no,” Daethir said, backing up a pace. “I don’t like the sound of that. You are going to show me the way out now, right?”

Slowly, the creature nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Great. Let’s move the fuck along, shall we? I’ve got a vampire waiting for me outside who will probably thrall me into complete obedience for a week for disappearing and scaring him witless, and I’d rather not make it two if I can help it. Not that I mind him thralling me, quite the contrary actually, but two weeks is a long time to spend as a puppet, even if I do get the most toe-curling orgasms out of it. Fuck, I’m running my mouth. I do that when I’m nervous, and the way you’re just staring at me like I’m some kind of hitherto-unknown species of cave mushroom that’s suddenly gained sentience is unnerving. Also you never answered my question: what the fuck are you? And are we safe now?”

The draugr blinked. “Did you hit your head?”

“Beg pardon?” he asked, and reflexively brought his hand to the back of his head to search for blood or injury in his light brown hair. When he found none, it dawned on him that the question might have been rhetorical, and he pouted. “Oh, it’s funny too. Great. I found the only draugr in all of Tamriel with a sense of humour. You are a draugr, right? Because the whole ‘mummified and still walking around’ thing is usually a dead giveaway. If you’ll pardon the pun. Man, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” the draugr said. “And yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, you are, and yes, I am.”

“I am what?”

“Running your mouth again, as you put it. And I am a draugr.”

“Oh. Fuck. Well, let’s crack on then, eh?” he chirped with a nervous little laugh, gesturing behind him up what appeared to be a narrow, upward-sloping tunnel. “Lead on to freedom, and all that. You can fill me in on the way.”

The creature gave a little snort of laughter and shook its head. Sections of white hair had come loose from its braid and dangled down into its glowing, blue eyes which gave it an altogether softer, dishevelled look. It cast a couple of glowing balls of light, with which Daethir was familiar from Karsi’s magic, and they floated away up the tunnel like dandelion puffs on the wind. 

Following the magelights, the draugr stepped around Daethir in the narrow tunnel, and as it passed, Daethir caught the soft scents of leather and parchment and incense, and the faint crackle of ozone that hovered around Karsi too. 

“You’re a mage?” he asked to break the thick silence that had flooded into the tunnel when the draugr had fallen quiet again. 

“Mm.”

“And you are definitely a draugr?”

“Mn.”

“You’re… different… from the others…” he said, inviting the draugr to expand on the statement. 

“Mmm.”

“You suddenly run out of words? What happened to Mr. Funny Undead from a minute ago? Wait, that was rude. I have no idea whether you’re a ‘mister’ or something else entirely. I’m sorry.”

At that, the creature gave another grinding chuckle and halted to look back at Daethir. “I am male, if that’s your question. My name is Nýráðr.”

The way his tongue trilled over the ‘r’ and ‘th’ sounds sent a thrill through Daethir’s whole body. “Neer-ath-ur,” he repeated, frowning. “That’s… It sounds elven, but… I’ve never heard it before.”

“It’s old,” he replied, and Daethir got the impression that there was some dark humour in his tone that was lost on the relatively young Bosmer. “If it’s too much of a mouthful for you, you can just call me Nyr.”

“Right. I’m Daethir.”

“You are a Wood Elf, are you not?”

“Yup, though I’m not the ‘live in the woods in my underwear and commune with squirrels’ kind of Wood Elf, so don’t go making assumptions.”

The laugh that fluttered out of Nyr was like ripping parchment, but it sounded full of unexpected delight all the same. Centuries, even millennia, as a slowly-desiccating draugr had wrought a heck of a lot of damage on the creature’s whole body by the look of it, and from the sound of things, his vocal cords hadn’t escaped unscathed either. Daethir mused that perhaps he would have had a voice as smooth and haunting as Karsi did when he had been fully alive, and something twinged in his chest at the creature’s loss. 

“Well,” the draugr said, “Since we’re not making assumptions about each other, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t assume I was a mindless drone like all my fellow animated corpses down here.”

“I thought I’d already made it abundantly clear that I don’t think that,” Daethir scowled. “And you were the one who implied I had no more brains than a Death Lord…”

“You were the one who thought I was going to ram you into a wall,” Nyr countered, glancing back over his shoulder. This time, as he moved, Daethir caught sight of his pale, very tapered ear and his footsteps halted abruptly. 

With his eyes wide, he stared at the elven shape of the draugr’s ear and his jaw dropped. 

“What?” Nyr asked, stopping too and turning properly to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re… an elf,” he blurted stupidly, and then went on in a slightly hysterical ramble. “I mean, the name should have given it away, but… holy shit, you’re an elf! I thought draugr were all human. I mean, the Nordic kings who built these tombs were… you know, humans, and they were famous for killing everything that didn’t have a perfectly rounded ear, and they had human courts and human servants and subjects, and what the fuck?” His voice ended in a little squeak as he ran out of breath.

A slow, sad smile crept onto Nyr’s sunken features, and he sighed. “I am an elf, you’re right. Are you so far removed from my time that our story has been forgotten? Did not the Atmorans start out as our friends and allies only to betray us and subjugate us instead?”

“The Night of Tears,” Daethir exhaled, reeling. 

In the cold blue glow of Nyr’s magelight, the draugr’s face settled into a frown. “I… I don’t know what that is.”

“You must have died before that all went down then,” he said, trying to scrape together what he remembered of it from Karsi’s impromptu fireside history lessons. “Shit. It was a massacre. Snow Elves descended on the human city of Saarthal in the north one night. After years of uneasy peace, they slaughtered everyone and, rumour has it, took or locked away something of great power beneath the city. After that, the humans retaliated and began the systematic genocide of all the Snow Elves in Tamriel.”

The draugr swayed and staggered, catching himself with a hand on the wall before he could collapse completely, and he stared wild-eyed at him. “They’re… They’re all gone?” he hissed, his bony chest rising and falling in fast, shallow gasps. “There are no more of us?”

“Us?” he asked, and then he really saw the white hair and colourless skin, and he understood at last. “Holy shit, you’re a Snow Elf?”

Mute, he just barely managed a nod. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should have realised and told you more gently. Karsi would have realised what you are immediately. I’m sorry,” he said, and stepped closer, closing his hand around the bare, bony forearm of the elven draugr.

“None of us…?” he asked, unable to finish the question. 

“Not as far as I know,” Daethir said, much more gently this time. 

He squeezed Nyr’s forearm and felt the bones shift beneath, and barely resisted the urge to jerk away in surprise. Even with his small hands, he could close his thumb and fingers around Nyr’s emaciated forearm. This close up, he could also see the way his collarbones stuck out beneath the open ‘v’ of his linen tunic’s neck, and his hollow cheeks looked all the more gaunt in the blue light that cast harsh shadows down over them. Even so, there was a cut-glass beauty to the creature with his high cheekbones and elegant jawline. 

“I’m sorry, Nyr.”

The Snow Elf swallowed, blinked glassy eyes, and looked down at the point where Daethir was touching him. For a long moment, he stared, and Daethir wondered if he shouldn’t have been so forward, but the draugr gave another wheezing sigh and placed his left hand over Daethir’s and squeezed gently. 

“Nothing lasts forever,” he whispered. The sound of it was like a winter wind in bare branches, and Daethir shivered. He felt like cold hands were scraping down his spine.

“What will happen to you now?” Daethir asked, still holding onto the draugr. Nyr’s body was warm – far warmer than Karsi’s undead vampire body – and his skin was supple and unbelievably soft. He’d always expected draugr to be fragile and papery, like mildewed parchment, or slimy and rotten, but Nyr was neither. He had just wasted away over time. Daethir wondered exactly how much time he’d spent alone in the dark down here, with nothing but shuffling, insentient corpses for company, and his heart went out to him. The last of his species, and confined in the tomb of his oppressors for generations while the world went on without him. “Nýráðr?” 

At the sound of his full name on Daethir’s tongue, the draugr startled softly and offered him a smile that went all the way up to the corners of his kindly eyes. “If I am not caught in the next few days, the Death Lord will forget about all of this. They’re not terribly bright, after all.”

Daethir narrowed his eyes. “That means you think I’m not terribly bright, if I was as easily fooled as a fucking draugr. No offence, you know,” he added with a pointed look up and down at the draugr in front of him. 

Nyr’s grip on his hand tightened for a fraction before he let go and dropped his arm, laughing quietly, that autumn rattle back in his voice. “None taken,” he said, turning to continue leading Daethir up the passage. “And in my defence, you should have been able to see through that enchantment. It really wasn’t very strong. It doesn’t have to be to keep the majority of my fellow tomb-dwellers out.”

“I’m not exactly proficient at seeing magic,” Daethir mumbled. “Can’t cast a spark myself, and scrolls are… unpredictable. Even the ones idiot Nords with no magic are supposed to be able to use,” he added morosely. 

“Elves with no magic whatsoever were not common in my time, but not unheard of. I apologise. I shouldn’t have made fun of you for it.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he huffed. “Karsi is always taking the piss out of me for it. He’s pretty adept at magic – could run rings around most of the stuffy old mages at the College of Winterhold. Even the Archmage, if you believe him. He does think quite highly of himself though, so it’s hard to tell.”

After a lilting pause in which only the sound of their soft footfalls could be heard, Nyr said, “You’re fond of this ‘Karsi’.”

“Fond? Fond doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m besotted. Head over heels. Enraptured by. Enamoured of. Utterly fucking smitten.” He did his best to emulate, and perhaps exaggerate, Karsi’s refined, educated way of speaking while he rattled off a list of synonyms for ‘completely fucking whipped’. 

Again, Nyr gave a rasping chuckle. “You don’t sound terribly thrilled about that.”

“Of course I’m ‘not terribly thrilled’ about that!” he exclaimed, gesturing up in the air with his hands. “The bloke’s a century-old vampire whose more educated than most princes, he’s elegant as fuck, can talk me into a stupor in a single sentence, and is more beautiful than all the Divines.”

“How is any of that a bad thing?” Nyr asked, still sounding amused by Daethir’s petulance over the matter. 

“Well, you might have been starved for beauty down here in the dark for a billion years, so I can see why my face might look like it was carved by a devotee of Dibella, Goddess of Love and Sex and Beauty,” he said with deep sarcasm, “But if you’d seen a single other living soul that didn’t resemble the back end of a raisin, you’d realise that next to literally anyone else, I’m about as ordinary as it gets. I’m ignorant as fuck about lots of things. I can’t do magic. All I’m good for is sneaking about, cutting purses, breaking into places I shouldn’t be, and hitting a target dead-centre at a hundred paces with a tiny piece of steel.”

It was only when he’d finished insulting the draugr that lived down here that he remembered who and what his companion was, and he fell into an awkward silence. Then, because he couldn’t bear it a second longer, he tacked on an apology that was way too late. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’re like them. You’re not.”

“It’s alright,” he said softly. The sound was like a stone dragging across the tunnel floor. “I know what I am and what I look like by now.”

“Yeah, but you’re not like the other draugr I’ve seen.”

“Oh, goody. What a comfort it is to know that I’ll win the Annual Draugr Beauty Contest for another year in a row,” he said with caustic sarcasm. 

Before Daethir could recover from the unexpected and well-deserved reprimand, the draugr rounded the corner in the steadily-rising tunnel and they came to an elaborate, carved stone door that abruptly halted their journey. 

Pressing his emaciated palm against a point at the centre of the labyrinthine tangle of patterns, the draugr let his icy blue magic pour out of him and it ran through the channels of the maze like water, flowing all the way across to form a tapestry of blue and grey until, with a dull, grinding noise, the door opened slowly outwards, and a blast of freezing, snow-filled air rushed in. 

The wind lifted Nyr’s white hair off his face and Daethir stared as moonlight inked silver brushstrokes across his high cheekbones and down his straight nose and delicate jawline. 

For a moment, neither of them moved as the night opened up around them, but Daethir knew he had to make up for his inadvertently cruel comments, so he stepped close to the draugr and reached his hand out to cup his colourless cheek. 

Nyr’s searing blue eyes fluttered closed and he sucked in a sharp breath, going rigid beneath Daethir’s touch. He traced his thumb across the Snow Elf’s high, arching cheekbone and murmured, “You really are exquisite.” He meant it too. “Thank you for saving my life, Nýráðr. I will never forget you, nor your kindness to me.”

Like a cat long-starved of affection, Nyr tipped his head into Daethir’s palm and nuzzled him once. The longing in his gaunt face cut Daethir to the quick, but he stepped back and opened his eyes. “Nor I you, Daethir,” he said in a scraping rasp. 

Then his blue gaze sailed over Daethir’s head – not exactly a difficult task, given how much taller the Snow Elf was than the diminutive Bosmer – and he smiled. “Karsi, I take it?” he said dryly. 

Daethir turned and had the fleeting impression of a figure standing beside a small, smouldering campfire outside the main entrance of the tomb, eyes blazing red, before the image disintegrated into a twisting swarm of black bats and Karsi reappeared right in front of Daethir, his face burning like a vengeful spirit. 

“By Molag Bal’s unholy blood,” he cursed, gripping Daethir by the shoulders and lifting him away from Nyr as though he were a child that had strayed too close to a firepit. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?!” His tone was frantic and his eyes blazed red as he unleashed all his pent-up rage and fear. Then he turned with a snarl on Nyr and bared his fangs at him, putting himself between the two of them.

Magicka boiled to life in his hands, scarlet as blood and shifting eerily in the icy moonlight, and Daethir thrashed in his grip. “No! No! Karsi, no, don’t! Don’t! He saved my life, Karsi, don’t hurt him! Shit, Karsi! Fucking listen to me you overgrown, underfed leech!” 

Karsi’s head snapped back to Daethir and he froze, then loosened his grip on Daethir’s leather jerkin. “That’s a draugr,” he said flatly, as if Daethir had lost his wits down in the tomb. 

“Ten out of ten for observation,” Daethir sneered, looking around Karsi’s figure to meet Nyr’s gaze. “I told you he was the smart one.”

“So you did,” Nyr said dryly. He swallowed and stepped back into the shadows of the doorway, and Karsi flew at him. 

The moment he hit the threshold, Karsi collided with a magical barrier and rebounded as if he’d hit a solid wall. He grunted and hissed like a wet cat, shaking himself out and rounding on Nyr again. “Why would a draugr help an intruder instead of attacking?”

Daethir blinked. It had never occurred to him to ask that question. He really was fucking simple. 

Nyr’s lips twitched into his sad smile. “I couldn’t bear to see a fellow elf spend his eternity in the tomb of a human king who had been so cruel to our kind. Take care of him, Karsi,” he said, and turned away. 

The door didn’t immediately close, so Daethir did something that was so perfectly in-keeping with his track record of uninhibited stupidity, and darted after him before Karsi had realised what he was doing. 

The vampire snatched for him and roared in wordless fury when Daethir’s jerkin slipped through his fingers behind the impenetrable barrier and he heard the weight of compulsion in Karsi’s words as he added, “Daethir, come back here right now!”

“Doesn’t work if I'm not looking at you!” Daethir shot back merrily over his shoulder and was answered with another impotent yowl of fury from his lover. 

Nyr had stopped and was frowning in confusion at him. “What are you doing?” he asked. His voice was even softer now, as though talking so much had strained his fragile vocal cords to their limit and even Daethir’s sharp ears nearly missed the question. 

“I… I’m not sure,” he said honestly. 

“Go, Daethir,” Nyr said gently. “Go with Karsi and put this place out of your mind.”

“I’m not sure I can,” he breathed. “I… Do you have to stay here? Are you trapped by the barrier that’s keeping Karsi out? Wait, no, you just passed through it. Fuck, I’m so stupid sometimes,” he said, smacking his forehead with his palm. 

Nyr stepped closer and drew Daethir’s hand away from his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Karsi roared at him from the mouth of the tunnel. “Get your filthy corpse hands off him! I swear by all the blood in my body and all the blood I’ve ever taken in the unholy sacrament of feeding that I will rip you apart and scatter your remains to the wolves if you don’t unhand him!”

“Ignore him,” Daethir snorted at Nyr without looking around. “He’s always had a terrible flare for the dramatic, and it only gets worse when he’s like that.”

“He’s worried for you,” Nyr smiled, and he let go. “Cherish it.”

“Tolerate it, more like,” Daethir said with a sigh. “But yeah. Do you have to stay here?”

“Look at me, Daethir. Where else could I go? I’m the last of my race, if what you say is true, and you will probably be the first and only person not to take one look at me and decide I must be destroyed on the spot.” He jutted his delicate chin towards the tunnel mouth where Karsi was pacing and snarling with bared fangs, his eyes locked on the pair of them. “He’s already proven my point.”

“Pfft, you’re not that special. He’s like that with anyone he thinks is a threat to me, and with how often I get myself in a pickle, trust me, that’s quite a lot of people. It’s nothing personal.”

“It very much is personal, you dim-witted Wood Elf!” Karsi spat, though it came out as affectionately petulant now, rather than truly fearful. “Would you please, darling, love and light of my life, back away from that thing and come back out here to join me?” Sarcasm dripped so tangibly off his tone that Daethir could practically taste it. 

He sighed and continued to ignore the vampire. 

“Come with us. If you’re not bound to this place, come with us.”

“Why?”

“See the world? See what’s changed since you went in there,” he said, jerking his thumb down the passageway. “Get away from the shitty Nords who imprisoned you in there for all eternity –”

“-- Nords aren’t shitty anymore?” Nyr asked, surprised. 

“Oh, no, they’re shittier than ever, especially to us elves, but –”

From behind him, Karsi sputtered. “‘Us’ elves?” 

“Shut up. You’re a Nord, Karsi, so you don’t get a say in this,” Daethir barked without bite. 

They heard Karsi’s inhalation of surprise, even above the wind that whistled around the mountaintop tomb. “He’s an elf? Daethir, the Nords who made the draugr would never have used elves for draugr servants. They thought they were animals!”

“Worse than animals, actually,” Nyr said with a sharp smile. “They enslaved us. We weren’t even afforded the same dignity you’d give a dog.”

Karsi fell still and silent at that and stood staring for a long time. Finally, he breathed, “That hair…” He let his red gaze slide up and down Nyr’s skeletally thin body and then added, “You’re a Snow Elf.”

With a quiet dignity, Nýráðr bowed his head with closed eyes. 

Daethir watched his lover for a long time, sensing the kind of thoughts that would be racing through that scholar’s head of his. Making a silent ‘wait there’ gesture to Nyr, he turned and went back to Karsi. 

The vampire’s eyes were unfocused, now staring unseeing at the floor near the doorway to the tomb. 

“Karse…?” Karsi truly hated that nickname because it was the word for a small, edible plant that went well with egg sandwiches in some highborn circles, and sure enough, it snapped him immediately out of his reverie. 

His upper lip twitched but his eyes faded from red to gold. That he wasn’t bothering with the glamour which he usually wore around himself like an old cloak was testament to how rattled he was. He sighed and lifted his eyes from Daethir to Nyr, who was still standing, much to Daethir’s relief, in the tunnel, watching them and silent as a silver spectre. 

“Think of all the questions you could ask him, Karsi,” Daethir insisted quietly. “You could annoy him into a second undeath with them all.”

Karsi’s mouth lifted at one corner into an amused smile despite himself. Then he looked down at Daethir and his eyes filled with tears. He brought both hands to Daethir’s jaw and choked, “You scared the shit out of me, love.”

“I know,” Daethir replied, placing his hands on Karsi’s waist. His heavy, wine-red robes were lashed around his slim middle with a thick band of black silk, into which was tucked a ruby-hilted dagger, and Daethir felt its cold bite against the bare inside of his wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m here though, and it’s entirely because of Nyr. He saved me from a Death Lord, and then when I freaked out over him being a draugr too, he saved me all over again and led me through a wall and then up here. To you. I’m alive because of him.” 

He paused and tilted his head sideways in a way that he saved for special occasions just like that one: unfortunate situations (usually of his own making) when he needed Karsi to be thoroughly wrapped around his little finger and eating out of his hand and helplessly unable to say no. 

Karsi swallowed. 

“I owe him my life, Karsi. You owe him my life. Shouldn’t we give him another chance at living too? Let him come with us…”

Karsi’s right eyelid twitched, and although he hadn’t uttered a word, Daethir knew he had him. 

He popped up onto his tiptoes, pecked the vampire on the cheek, and scuttled back to Nyr in the dark tunnel. 

He took the draugr by both hands and backed up towards the doorway, and to his surprise, Nyr followed. His movements were soft, graceful and fluid as a dancer, and Daethir thought again how strangely beautiful this creature was. 

Nyr stopped just shy of the threshold though, and met Karsi’s eye. He let go of Daethir’s hands and lowered his arms to his sides. Something wordless seemed to pass between the two that Daethir couldn’t unpick, and he looked from one to the other in helpless confusion. 

“Kay?” he chirped after a moment. “Nyr?”

Finally, Karsi drew in a long breath, held it, and then let it go in a rush. “Do you have anything you wish to bring with you?” he asked and Daethir almost yipped with the sudden rush of joy that bubbled up inside him. He hadn’t quite dared believe it until then. 

It was the same kind of excitement and trepidation he felt at the start of a new journey. No matter how many times he and Karsi had set off to find some new book or scroll or sacred offering pot, he felt the exact same flare of unbridled, effervescent joy, and now as he looked between the two undead creatures before him, he felt it again. 

“If I go back down there now, I will not come out again,” Nyr said in a barely there rasp. “The Death Lords will all know by now what I did, and how I betrayed them to get Daethir out. They will forget in a week perhaps, but I would have to conceal myself, and Daethir would freeze to death up here waiting, even with a fire.”

Daethir paused and watched Karsi’s expression as the realisation dawned on the vampire of the risk Nyr had taken to get his lover out alive. Then, he surprised Daethir by raising the inside of his left wrist – the side closest to his now-silent heart – to his canines and biting his own vein, sending droplets of his precious blood spattering onto the snow rimed stone at his feet. With ritualistic intonation, he said, “You’re right. I owe you the life of my beloved. By my blood I swear to do you no harm, and to protect you to the best of my abilities until my death or such time as you release me from my oath.”

Daethir’s eyebrows shot up. He’d never heard Karsi speak like that, and he’d certainly never given a blood oath to anyone, not that Daethir knew of anyway. Astonished, he looked at Nyr. 

The draugr stepped out of the doorway and around the small pool of blood that sparkled like a handful of rubies cushioned on the snow. He tilted his head slightly to one side, and smiled. “I shall do my utmost to be worthy of such an oath, vampire.” The word came out like an honorific, not an insult. 

For the space of ten heartbeats – twenty, if Daethir’s pounding pulse was the cadence by which such measurements were to be judged – no one moved or spoke. Finally, Karsi turned away and walked towards the fire, his long black hair blowing loose in the wind. He looked softer now, the tension melting from his shoulders, but Daethir knew his lover to the core, and he still bore some internal struggle. 

Daethir made a mental note to question him about it later, and then turned to Nyr. “Where to now?” he asked. 

“I will follow where you lead, Daethir.”

At that, Daethir sucked air in through his teeth in a comical grimace. “Terrible choice,” he grinned. “Luckily for you, I follow where Karsi leads, and Karsi is full of excellent ideas and great judgement.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” Karsi said over his shoulder as he stalked six paces ahead of them. “I just gave a blood oath to a draugr. You’ve rotted my brain with your company, Dae.”

Daethir grinned again and elbowed Nyr in his ribs. “You’re gonna fit right in, I just know it.”

Nyr smiled faintly and it was only then that Daethir realised that the draugr was still wearing just a linen shift and no boots. 

“Shit, Nyr, you must be freezing!”

“I’m not going to die of exposure, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Karsi snorted faintly, looking surprisingly amused until Daethir told him to take his own coat off and give it to Nyr, which he flat-out refused to do. 

“You can’t expect him to walk around barefoot, Karse!”

“He can strip one of the bandits in the entrance for armour,” Karsi shot back, gesturing at the main door to the tomb. “It’s not like they need it. I swore to protect him, not divest myself for his comfort.”

Without a word, Nyr left in the direction Karsi had pointed, and a few minutes later, he returned wearing the black mage robes of one of the frozen corpses just inside the door, with a long fur-trimmed cloak that caught the wind and flapped like bat’s wings, and tall, black leather boots cuffed with soft fur. The cloak had a hood, which he pulled up over his head, and with the shadows it cast, he almost looked unremarkable save for that long, silver braid that hung elegantly down over one shoulder. With those new clothes on, he looked thin, yes, but not undead. Until Daethir met his blue eyes. 

“Karsi, can you cast a glamour on him or something? Like the one you use? He shouldn’t have to worry about every last person we meet trying to hack his head off.”

The vampire nodded, and crossed their frozen campsite to meet him halfway. “If I may?” he asked, raising his right hand. Black and red magicka bubbled into his palm and Nyr eyed it warily, but nodded once. 

“I can do it myself,” he added, “But I think you’re a stronger mage than I, and you have more experience with alteration magic, I’m sure.”

Karsi just grunted something and circled his fingertips over Nyr’s face. In place of the haunted, sunken eyes and gaunt, hollow cheeks of a corpse, a beautiful, porcelain face stared out from under the hood, and the undead, blue glow of his eyes faded to the forget-me-not blue of a wild meadow in summer. 

“Holy shit, Karsi,” Daethir exhaled. “You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

The vampire rolled his eyes and cast the same spell on his own face, and the black sclera faded to white, and the gold deepened to a warm brown, and Daethir tried not to mourn the loss of the ‘otherness’ in his two companions. 

“Karsi?” 

“Mn?”

“Can you… Can you make it so that I can see you both?”

“Without affecting the way others view us?” he clarified, and Daethir nodded. He looked to Nyr for his opinion, and when the draugr just shrugged, seeming almost curious about whether such a clause could be written into a spell like that, especially after it had already been woven, Karsi took it for the challenge it undoubtedly was, and made another gesture at the side of Nyr’s face. 

The face of a draugr stared back at him once again, and Daethir beamed. “I fucking love magic,” he laughed, and to his surprise, Nyr laughed too, shaking his head. “Do you mind? I mean, I was pretty rude about draugr a while ago, but I really didn’t mean to include you in it.”

“What, when you called my kind ‘the wrong end of a raisin’ or thereabouts?” he said, arching an eyebrow. 

Karsi burst out laughing, and the sound was so loud and honest and off-guard that all three of them began to laugh. It took a lot to make Karsi laugh like that, and the sound of it filled Daethir’s heart to bursting. 

He looped his arm through Nyr’s elbow and then dragged him round so he could stick his other arm under Karsi’s, and he dragged the two of them towards the fire and their discarded travel packs. 

“Come on,” he said, glancing up at the two of them. They were almost a match in heights, he noted from about a foot below them. “Let’s put this place behind us. Karsi, what was the next item on our list?”

“The Lunarstone Chalice,” he said dryly. “Last rumoured to be in a ruined temple in the mountains north of Markarth.”

“Ooh, Markarth. My favourite place in all the world,” Daethir chimed sarcastically, unlinking both arms so he could gesture grandly while walking backwards. “Second only to Windhelm in its snobbery towards elven kind, and the whole area is bristling with rabid, frothing lunatics called the ‘Forsworn’. Can’t think of a place I’d like to start Nyr’s tour of Tamriel more than bloody fucking Markarth.”

And then he caught his heel on a flagstone and pitched backwards with a sharp cry of surprise, only to find hands shooting out to catch him on either side. 

Nyr and Karsi hauled him upright before he landed ass-first on the icy stone, and Daethir grinned up at both of them.

“Alright,” Nyr said in his hoarse croak. “Let’s begin.”

__

If there's interest in these three, I'll happily add it to my 'to work on' list. Consider letting me know you enjoyed it by reblogging it or leaving a comment/ask.

Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

(if you enjoyed this draugr/lich boy, you might also like this story, featuring an altogether more shy and retiring draugr named Kalle, and the adventurer who falls in love with him over several visits to his tomb - m/f pairing).

[the-halloween-jack]

ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ - ｏｎｅ

PART ONE OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Drinking, Descriptions of Violence. Words: 2,257k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist Next Part>

Y/N Winchester’s brothers always warned her to stay away from Mystic Falls; if a hunter crossed its border, they may as well have been signing their death certificate, but, of course, she did not listen. Y/N wanted to prove herself and show them that she was not second-rate. And besides, would it not be immoral to allow these killings to continue unchecked?

Y/N glanced down at the evidence she had gathered about the town; it was apparent that the area was plagued with vampires, and the authorities had an abominable habit of covering it up. Coroner reports were sprawled across the small motel table in front of her, all claiming the same thing: that its victim died of an animal attack. However, reports of punctured necks and bloodless corpses affirmed otherwise.

The vampires of Mystic Falls were careless yet evaded scrutiny effortlessly.

Speaking to the locals achieved little, and she always walked away empty-handed. They had no accounts of antisocial behaviour or people who only seemed to make appearances at night. When speaking to witnesses, they stood unsure and dubious, as though blank spaces riddled their memories. Something else was at play here, and Y/N would uncover it, no matter the cost.

Her phone's small screen flashed again, accompanied by its trilling ring for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, vibrating and moving against the table it lay upon. The name ‘Dean’ was written in large letters across its display. Y/N sighed and lifted the device to her ear.

‘What do you want?’ She grilled in annoyance,

‘Oh, she finally answers,’ His voice heavy with the sarcasm the young Winchester had grown accustomed to over the years.

‘Yes, I finally answered, though that didn’t answer my question, what do you want?’ Y/N reprised

‘Y/N, you know exactly what Sam and I want. We haven’t seen you in weeks, and we have no idea where you are and if you’re safe; before you picked up the phone, we had no idea if you were even alive. You need to end this stupid kamikaze mission and come back to the bunker. It’s stupid to hunt alone; you could be killed; don’t pretend that’s not what you’re doing. We aren’t stupid.’ His lecture rolled off his tongue hot and fast, Y/N rolling her eyes in response, wishing for a moment that he was there to see it.

‘No need to worry about me, brother. I can handle myself, and you know it.’ She countered,

‘Y/N…’ But before he could continue, she hung up, putting her phone on silent and shoving it into her jacket pocket.

Only two seconds passed before it began to ring again, though she ignored it just as thoroughly as all his previous calls. Typically, Y/N’s brothers would have just tracked her down, though she was smart enough to disconnect all means of GPS location and give them and everyone they knew a wide berth. She even had precautions in place that prevented them from finding her by means of magic, reducing them to countless feeble attempts of merely asking her for her location, and she would never waver. 

If Y/N had a dollar for every time Sam or Dean rang or texted, she could stop all the credit card fraud she was committing and live the lavish life a hunter could only dream of.

Once again, she looked down towards her incongruous evidence; she had reason to believe the town council was an inner circle of people in Mystic Falls responsible for the lazy cover-ups and the nugatory upkeep of the town’s safety. The council consisted of members from a group called ‘The Founding Families’, and her research showed they had occupied the small Virginian town since its forming in the mid-1800s, and it seemed to her Mystic Falls has been having occasional run-ins with vampires ever since. Suddenly, both of her brothers' warnings began to make more sense.

Y/N sighed and wrapped an overcoat around her jacket. She could do with a drink; besides, it wouldn’t hurt to try and gather more information about this uncanny town.

The door of the grill whined as she pushed it open, the crowded chatter of the busy Friday night meeting her ears immediately. She forced her way through the traffic of the locale and straight to the bar, deciding to sit next to a dark-haired man clad in a leather jacket with his shoulders hunched over a glass of whiskey. She looked toward the young bartender cleaning out a crystal glass with a towel he had just pulled from his shoulder; the sound of her stool being dragged from under the bench brought his attention to her. 

‘I’ll have a double shot of Jameson, neat, please.’ She asked sweetly, hoping the boy would not ID her. She was already 21, though the nature of her pastimes meant she only had fake identification, and any excuse not to use it was excellent in her eyes. Much to her relief, the boy placed the glass in his hands before her and began to pour her drink. She pulled her phone from her pocket, a feeling of exasperation making itself known as she gazed upon the nine missed calls from Dean and the four from Sam. Answering the call earlier had only made them worse. She had barely brought the glass to her lips when the dark-haired stranger spoke up,

‘I can’t help but notice you’re a new face around these parts; what brings you to Mystic Falls?’ His accompanying smirk was flirtatious, and though only an idiot would overlook the apparent sublimity of his features, she was in no mood for mucking about. She returned the smile regardless, hoping to scour him for more information. 

‘What makes you think this is a new face?’ She asked, using the same sweet tone she used with the bartender.

‘Trust me, I’d recognise a face like yours if I’d seen it before.' She wanted to ignore the cheap pickup line, though she could sense a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Y/N could hardly believe that this man she had only just met could affect her so quickly, 

‘Well, I’m not exactly new; I’ve been visiting for around a month.’ Y/N didn’t want to say too much; she had not yet developed a backstory. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue,

‘I was thinking of moving here permanently, though, now I’m not so sure with all these killings… by animals, of course…’  

Y/N decided it was best to get straight to the case; she was not here to waste time. Average eyes would not have noticed how his eyes tightened ever so slightly when she mentioned the animal attacks.

‘And now, why would that concern you?’ He used a light tone, though traces of accusation lay beneath. This did not go unnoticed by her; was it possible he was one of them? Her chest clenched; she had just met the man, though the idea of him being a monster saddened her in a way she could not have anticipated. She smiled nonetheless and made sure it reached her eyes.

‘I’ve made a hobby of hiking, and I think it would be unfortunate to have my cortical artery torn from my throat, wouldn’t you say?’ She did not know what possessed her to speak these words; could she have been any more obvious? He leaned closer, his piercing blue eyes adhered to her. Her breathing halted.

‘Yes, very unfortunate…’ he leaned back again before chuckling and exclaiming loudly,

‘How rude of me; I just realised I never introduced myself. I’m Damon Salvatore.’

Suddenly, it all made sense; he hailed from one of the founding families she had read about, Salvatore. Y/N felt a peculiar sense of relief. He was not a vampire like she initially suspected but rather part of the secret council hellbent on eradicating them, albeit not successfully. He held his hand out expectantly, and when she connected her own with his, she noticed a very conspicuous lapis lazuli ring adorning his fingers. It resembled that of an ancient family heirloom.

‘I’m Y/N, Y/N Walker.’ She thought it was best not to use her real surname; her family had gathered quite the reputation within the supernatural community, and this was the name printed on her fake ID anyway.

‘I think you’re quite right not to hike in the woods, Y/N, but I hope that won’t deter you from remaining in this town; it would be sad to lose a pretty face like yours.’ Y/N could feel her heart beating; she was sure the whole room could hear it. Y/N quickly looked down when she felt another blush forming. Damon turned to the bartender and slid her empty tumbler back over the bench,

‘She’ll have another Jameson, this time on me.’ 

From then, the conversation moved on to trivial topics, and Y/N found it difficult to proceed in her inquiry, given she was posing as an oblivious newcomer. A little while later, a woman clad in a sheriff uniform approached the pair, donning a solemn expression.

‘Sheriff Forbes…’ Damon nodded in acknowledgement; this was another name Y/N recognised from her research of the town, another founder. Y/N studied her face; she looked unsettled and nervous, as though she wished to speak with Damon but refrained in case of eavesdroppers.

She sent a pointed glare towards Damon and nudged her head ever so slightly in Y/N’s direction. Damon took this as an opportunity for introduction,

‘Liz, this is Y/N, she’s new in town.’ Liz smiled and sent Y/N a small wave,

‘It’s nice to meet you, though; I’m sorry to barge in like this. Do you mind if I borrow your friend for a moment?’ She spoke kindly, though her nervousness was present in her voice.

‘No, not at all; I should probably be heading off soon anyway.’ Y/N smiled at the sheriff before pulling her phone from her pocket and trying to seem engrossed in something displayed on the small screen. Though her attention was drawn entirely to the whispered conversation between the two founders

‘There was another body found earlier, ruled as an animal attack again; of course, though, there is only so long before people begin questioning these reports.’ Y/N could feel Liz’s eyes glancing toward her spot on the barstool; Y/N was careful to continue scrolling through her phone aimlessly until the sheriff looked away.

‘Liz, you know I’m doing everything I can to find these culprits; soon enough, they’ll make a mistake, and we’ll be able to make our move against them.’ Damon also looked at Y/N from the corner of his eyes before very deliberately looking back to Liz. Was it possible they could be suspecting her? She was new in town, after all. For the first time, it occurred to Y/N that maybe Damon had been investigating the ‘animal killings’ this evening as well, and now Y/N found herself in the middle of it. She took this as her leave,

‘I should probably head off now; it was lovely meeting you both.’ Damon and Liz smiled in response, traces of their secret conversation disappearing behind amiable façades. 

Her brothers’ phone calls continued; Y/N was kicking herself for answering the previous day; she should have seen it would make them so much worse. Sam’s name illuminated the screen of the vexing device, and for a moment, she considered crushing it under her foot just to silence the inconsequential piece of plastic and metal. Though reason returned to her just as quickly as it left, and instead, she lifted the mobile to her ear,

‘Hello, Sam.’ She sighed into the phone. She knew the calls would not stop either way now; she may as well entertain them. She heard Sam give a subtle gasp as though the sound of his sister’s voice shocked him, and that was probably not far from the truth.

‘Y/N, hear me out before you hang up, okay?’ She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue,

‘Dean and I really need to know where you are; we’re supposed to look out for you, and before you give me that “I can look out for myself” crap, it’s irrelevant, we know you can look out for yourself, but you don’t need to, whatever hunt you’re on Dean and I can help you, we’ll do it together.’ Sam spoke sincerely, 

‘It’s a kind offer, Sam, but seriously, I know what I’m doing, and besides, inviting you and Dean on the first hunt I’m attempting by myself defeats the whole “I’m going off on my own for a little while” scenario, wouldn’t you say?’ 

‘Please, Y/N, just tell us where you are,’ Sam implored. Y/N could hear the low grumbling of the eldest Winchester in the background, pleading for the phone she imagined. 

‘I’m sorry, Sam, but I think I should do this alone’. She said, ‘I’m going to hang up now, okay?’

‘Wait! Y/N’ But before Sam could say anything more; she disconnected the call; Y/N closed her eyes and sighed. She hated going behind her brothers’ backs, but she was sick of her abilities being overlooked. 

Going on hunts with them meant staying behind in the motels, researching, while her brothers went out and got their hands dirty, returning triumphant from defeating the monsters Y/N had helped them discover. What good was all the combat training and exercise she did if she could never put it into action?

No, she would not invite her brothers; she would do this alone.

A/N: I designed my own page break for this series; what do you think? 

Next Part >

[chaoticbardlady99]

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+

Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb

Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.

CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.” And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 5: Chapter 7 : AO3

Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long. 

  He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?

 Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat. 

  He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever. 

  Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled. 

 You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out. 

  It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn. 

 That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <

  The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated. 

 You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you. 

  You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.

  Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers. 

 It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul. 

  And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.

 Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.

  It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you. 

   He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person. 

  He feels border line delirious and he’s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt. 

   You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again. 

  The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near. 

  The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for. 

  He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.

 At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon. 

  He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks. 

  Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business. 

 For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.

  The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.

What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?

 Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought. 

  Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him. 

 Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.

 What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?

 He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt. 

 He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.

 Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.

 His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay. 

  Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.

 Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted. 

   He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen. 

  His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet. 

  Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.

 “Hey! You can’t just cu-“

 Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.

 “You were saying?”

 “Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”

 A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.

“That’s not what I-“

 “NEXT!”

  Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.” 

 He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality. 

  It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here. 

 “Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?” 

  If you were here? You would have busted up laughing. 

“Young man, my ass!” 

  He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye. 

“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.” 

 “Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”

 “I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

  The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.

 Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.

  The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.

 “Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.” 

 Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is. 

 No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart. 

 “Which brother?”

  The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.

 You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death. 

 “His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”

 Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice. 

 Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself. 

  Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.

  The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body. 

 “Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!” 

  A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave. 

  His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.

 Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!” 

 Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books. 

  He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter. 

  Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes. 

  Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster. 

  It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time. 

 He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!

  The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans. 

 The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.

 There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.

 What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half. 

 Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!

 The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.

 Wonderful, just wonderful. 

  Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get. 

  A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him. 

Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster. 

  As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him. 

 Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.  

  A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly. 

  Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics. 

  You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him. 

 “Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?”

  “Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”

 “Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”

  Of course it’s a fucking Lich. 

 “For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.” 

“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.

 Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it. 

 “That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!” 

 It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.

  Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath. 

 You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.

  The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts. 

  Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-

 “NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!” 

   You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you. 

 Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.

 He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.

“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!” 

   Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing. 

  When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.

“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.” 

  And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal. 

  Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process. 

 The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers. 

 “ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”

   He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on. 

   A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.

  He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.

  The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.

 Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.

  The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.

  The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.

  He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t. 

  Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her. 

  He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again. 

  The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea. 

  Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building. 

  The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them. 

 It must have been a horrible 56 hours. 

 Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.

“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”

 The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”

 That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.

 “It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.” 

             *****************************

   It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard. 

  You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days. 

  It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering. 

“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?” 

 You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.

 “He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.

“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”

  Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.

 He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery. 

 But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.

  Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.

 However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.

 Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.

  Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.

 You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while. 

 Anything to make you feel safe again. 

 “I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.

“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“ 

  This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough. 

 Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.

 A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes. 

 “I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.” 

 “What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

 Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.

“It’s not imp-“

“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!” 

 Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.” 

  “Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.” 

  You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable. 

 “I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”

  He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off.  Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards. 

  Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.

“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.

  Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?

 “What?”

  You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.

  Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.” 

 “Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!” 

 Oh thank Gods.

  Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc. 

  You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”

 Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns. 

 You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite. 

“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”

 “Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”

 You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.

“What is it, my Sweet?”

  He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.

“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”

  Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.

 Pull yourself together.

 “I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”

 “Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”

 “But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.” 

  Gods when did he become such a romantic? 

  You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face. 

“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”

“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”

“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”

“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”

  You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations. 

“Fair.” 

   Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors. 

  Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right. 

  This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you. 

  It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined. 

  You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face. 

 Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.

  Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream. 

  Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.

   He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door. 

 He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened. 

(Smut begins)

 He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.

  Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.

 He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!

  The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely. 

  Wild, passionate- unrehearsed. 

  Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop. 

 “You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”

  Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago. 

   He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.  

  His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak. 

  In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.

  Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately. 

  He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst. 

 Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours. 

(Smut ends)

  He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out. 

 Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.

 His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.

 Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for. 

  He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you. 

  Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.

  After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you. 

  One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.

***********************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

[dino-cattivo]

Pray for me, cos I won't pray for you

My fic for the @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang!

The amazing art for this fic was done by @jeniidrawsshit and oh my god I love it so so much. It is just so amazing.

LINK TO THE ART!!! GO CHECK IT OUT!!

Pairing: Hob/Dream

Rating: mature

Word Count: 40,657

Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, gore like the dinner episode, The Corinthian is His Own Warning (The Sandman), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Alternate Universe - Mob, Organized Crime, Hob joins the mafia, Self Confidence Issues, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, POV Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Needs A Hug, Misunderstandings

Summery: After their fight in 1889 Hob falls in with a bad crowd thanks to a boy that reminds him of Robyn. He tries to stop his descent into crime not wanting to be reduced to being nothing more than a murderer again. But eh fails. Compared to all the live he ends helping to guard a basement is tame. If only Corinthian, the right hand man of his employer, would stop flirting with him despite being turned down multiple times already.

Chapter 1 under the cut. Will repost the next chapters as reblog because of word limit.

~1889~

“You knew Lady Johanna. You know, Lushing Lou. You know everyone, don't you?” Hob asked in wonder. He may not know who or rather what his stranger was, but he could never help but be amazed by everything he could do. Sometimes when he laid awake, unable to catch sleep, he came up with the wildest theories about the man. He imagines him being a vampire, a fae, and even considered an old god from Greece. But he would never know, as his stranger never revealed anything about himself, not even his name. 

It felt unfair in a way. Him knowing everything about Hob, while Hob got nothing. It had crossed his mind to be petty, to keep things to himself, go against their deal in a way. But Hob couldn’t stop himself from telling the man whatever he could when they saw each other, eager to be able to share.  

“I saw her again, you know.”

“Who? Lady Johanna?” Worry flared up. He knew his stranger was fine, sitting across the table from him. He also knew the man was strong enough to protect himself. But he couldn’t help wanting to be there, to protect, to keep his stranger safe, even at the cost of his own freedom.

“She undertook a task for me and succeeded admirably, I might add.”

Jealousy, burning hot, filling his veins. He tried to tamper it down, to net let it get to him, but he couldn’t help himself. All the time he had wanted nothing more than to get close to his stranger, to prove his worth, and now he had offered that chance to someone else. He had chosen someone who had hunted them down and tried to do harm instead of someone he shared centuries of friendship with.

It hurt. 

Although, could he hold it against his stranger? The man knew Hob for so long, knew what he has done, knew all his failures during his long life. So it was no wonder he didn’t trust Hob enough to ask him for a favor. His voice was filled with self-loathing as he spoke. “That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years. People are almost always better than you think they are. Not me, though. Still the same as ever.”

“I think perhaps you've changed.” Hob’s heart started beating faster at the other’s words. Did he really think so? Hob wished it was true. He wants to change, to be good, worthy of his stranger.

“Well, I may have learned a bit from my mistakes. But, uh… doesn't seem to stop me from making them. I think it's you that's changed.”

“How so?”

Hob should shut up now and be content with what he had, seeing the man he had fallen for every hundred years. He should not press the issue, no matter how desperate he was to be acknowledged by the other. But Hob had never been smart when it came to things he desired.

“I think I know why we still meet here, century after century. It's not because you want to see whether or not I'm ready to seek death. I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now, you know that about me. So, I think you're here for something else.”

“And what might that be?” His stranger looked curious at that. Hob liked the look as it meant he had done something to surprise the man.

“Friendship. I think you're lonely.” And in true Hob fashion, he managed to put his foot in his mouth. He knew the moment he had spoken, he had made a mistake. It was the truth, but the wording was just unfortunate and way too blunt. And not at all how he had planned to breach the topic.

“You dare…”

“No, look, I'm not saying–,” Hob tried to backpedal, but it was too late. “You… dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Maybe despite Hob’s foolish approach, there was a chance all of this still had a good outcome, and they would get closer. “Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong.” Or maybe not. Hob sprang up from his chair and chased after his stranger as the man strode out of the tavern. The man couldn’t do this. If he wanted or not, they were friends. You didn’t just storm off and leave your friends behind.

“I'll tell you what, I'll be here in 100 years' time. If you're here then, too, it'll be because we're friends. No other reason, right?” He was met by silence as his stranger didn’t seem fit to answer and just disappeared. 

“Fսck.” 

~1897~

He was pissed, absolutely livid. Who did he think he was? He had no right to speak to Hob like this, no matter how powerful he was. That was not how things worked. You couldn’t be an asshole like that and expect people to stick around. Hob didn’t need him. They saw each other only every hundredth years, and even then the stranger often didn’t have time for Hob and fucked off with someone else. So what if Shakespeare was famous now? Hob would still have been better company back then. No, he didn’t need the man. He would make new friends. Better ones.

~1936~

Okay, so maybe mistakes had been made and Hob should have chosen his words more carefully. That was on him. His stranger still shouldn’t have exploded like this and should rather have tried to talk things out like a grown up, but still – Hob hadn’t been entirely blameless in the situation.

When they saw each other the next time he would have to apologize and maybe then they could laugh together about the stupid fight. Or well, Hob had never seen his stranger laugh, couldn’t even imagine it. He would settle for a smirk then.

~1983~

Anxiety was settled deep in his chest. What if his stranger proved him wrong. What if he didn’t show, determined to not give in. Hob had no way of finding him. He didn’t even know who he was looking for. What would Hob even do? Nothing besides showing up in the White Horse every hundred years and praying at some point his stranger would forgive him and come for him. 

Once more, he felt powerless in their relationship. It was the whole reason why he had even started the fight, wanting to know more, anything about his stranger. He didn’t want to be on equal footing, knowing it would never be, but he wanted something that was his. He didn’t want to be just another amusement the man had, but to mean at least something to the other. 

Tears sprung to his eyes as he hit his desk in frustration. It was unfair. The stranger meant too much to him, was such a big part of his life, and Hob didn’t even know if he was the only immortal he kept. Maybe Shakespeare was out there under a new name, living his best life and meeting his stranger more often than every hundredth years. And there was nothing Hob could do about it, no way for him to even find out.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any more work, he gathered his documents and put them in a briefcase before leaving the empty office and making his way through the dark street. They were in the progress of having the gas street-lamps replaced by electrical once, but it was slow progress. And during it many streets stayed dark, since repairing gaslights when they were about to be replaced was a waste of resources according to the major. Hob didn’t care too much, he didn’t fear the dark.

He should have.

A dark figure stepped in front of him, barely noticeable in the moonlight. Turning around to run, he saw another figure blocking the other exit of the street and walking towards Hob. A flash of metal in the dark, a weapon. Hob swallowed, not because he was scared, he had survived much worse, but because it spelled trouble, and he couldn’t risk anyone finding out he was immortal. Not with times changing and hiding who he was becoming more and more difficult.

“Your money or your life,” Hob had to suppress a snort at the nasal voice. Ah, criminals, always the same no matter how many centuries passed. He remembered the time well, when he was in the other's position, stopping the carriages of rich folks and demanding the valuables. He had used the exact same words. Although, he guessed there was no much need for flair when it came to such simple matters.

“Alright, I will give you what I have. Please don’t hurt me,” Hob held up his hands, talking calm and trying not to provoke them. He couldn’t die, sure, but being stabbed hurt like a freaking bitch. Hob would rather part with some cash he had on hand and his watch. Nothing holding real value to him, and easy enough to replace. 

So very slowly and telegraphing his movement clearly, he reached inside his coat and pulled out his wallet, holding it out until it was snatched from his fingers. Next was his watch that got the same treatment. And still Hob was well-behaved, not struggling, calm and cooperating. He gave no reason for the situation to escalate, giving his robbers all chances to just leave now with their loot.

Which was why Hob was so surprised when pain exploded at the side of his head. He stumbled, his knee hitting the pavement, his palm getting scratched as he caught himself. Blinking, he tried to lift the haze from his thoughts as he looked up at the two shapes hovering above him. 

It was only instincts, honed through centuries with conflicts, that saved him, his head ducking automatically as he heard the swish of metal through the air. But just because the knife didn't slash his face didn't mean he was safe, as he was not as fortunate in avoiding the kick to his side. He cried out as pain exploded in his ribs. Every fiber of his being wanted him to curl up and protect his soft belly, but he forced down this instinct with gritted teeth. 

No, if you wanted to survive, you had to fight with everything you got. Using the momentum of the kick, he stumbled back to his feet, and got some distance between himself and the attackers. Despite the throbbing in his head, he now could see them more clearly, that was not the face of someone just messing around. No, they wore big smiles, and were enjoying his pain. They wouldn't stop. At least not on their own. 

One of them, heavy dark coat, spindly frame, soon ran towards Hob, knife in hand. Amateur movements. Hob stepped forward, getting close, deflected the blade by smacking the other's arm. His knee meets the other's stomach, sending him down. Before he could make sure he stayed down the other man, this one smaller but wider, jumped on him, and they tumbled to the ground.

That was fine. Hob knew how to wrestle and had the other in a chokehold in seconds. Still two against one, but he kicked out the legs of the man running towards him to tear him off his friend.

The body was suddenly in free-fall, arms whirling trying to get back balance. 

Then a sickening crunch and Hob froze.  

He had heard it often during his lifetime. He had sworn he would no longer be the cause of it. 

Looking over, he didn't need to see the neck bend in an awkward position to know the man was gone. 

Hob had killed him. He hadn't meant to, it had been an accident. But he had killed someone. 

After all the lifetime he had lead and all the killing and dying he had done, he had wanted to be done with it. He just wanted to live in peace and do let others do the same. But now he had ripped someone else out of their life. How could he live with himself knowing what he had just done. 

“Chris,” the man, Hob was still entangled on the ground with, cried out and struggled to free himself. Hob helped him as best as he could now that he was no longer in danger of being attacked. 

Getting up himself, he saw the man kneeling next to the body crying, shaking it and begging for Chris to open his eyes. The man didn’t. They never did. Once someone was gone, there was nothing you can do, no matter how you cried out to your stranger to spare them. 

Suddenly the man got up, swinging at Hob, but in his grief it had become uncoordinated and Hob easily stopped the punch. 

“You murderer! You killed him!”

He hadn’t meant to. And it wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t attacked him. But pointing that out wouldn’t help, as the man would not listen to reason. He wanted someone to be angry at, to blame, to lessen his own guilt. And Hob was the perfect target. Hob stopped the other punch and just held on as the man cried. It was the least Hob could do.

There was the sound of footsteps in the distance, spooking the man, and he ripped himself free and started stumbling away. Hob didn’t stop him, just sitting down on the ground next to the cooling body and waited. He should probably call the police, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, so he just waited. How long he didn’t know, but at some point steps came closer and when he looked up Hob could see men in uniform entering the alley. The police has arrived. 

Hob didn’t resist when he was dragged up and cold iron snapped around his wrist. Neither when he was pulled away. Everything was a blur. He didn’t remember how they made it to the station, just that he found himself in a chair, an officer sitting on the other side of the desk staring him down.

He was asked questions he can’t answer, the full name of the victim, their relationship and most of all why he did it. All Hob can say is, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, they attacked me first, I just tried to defend myself, then he fell. Over and over, he repeats it like a mantra. Something to hang on when everyone wants to make him believe he did it on purpose. When their words make him question himself. 

I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I was just defending myself.

He didn’t know how much time has passed, there was no clock in the room nor window. His voice was rough and black spots dance on the edge of his vision, they hadn’t bothered giving him a glass of water. The blood in his hair from the first swing he took was dry and flaking off every time he shakes his head in denial. His ribs throb with every breath.

He was about to just nod, accept whatever they said if it meant he will be thrown into a cell where he could lay down and close his eyes. It would ruin his life, but wouldn’t that be right after what he had done? A few years of suffering was the least he deserved. Especially since he unlike others had the option to start anew after faking his death.

His downward spiral was stopped by a man bargain in, under loud protests of some officers. The man’s briefcase hit the desk hard, and Hob flinched back at the loud noise.

“Don’t say anything,” sharp blue eyes drilled into Hob’s making him cower at the imposing figure in front of him. The man commanded respect, not because of the nice suit he was wearing or the expensive jewelry or because he was even taller than Hob, but in the way he held himself, his presence filling the whole room. 

So Hob shut his mouth. It was not like anyone was really listening to what he had to say anyway. And not speaking would be good for the scratching in his throat. His fate now would be decided if the new person was a friend or someone wanting to drag him down. Hob didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

“You,” the man whirled on the officer, making him duck on instinct, only to puff up and try to make himself more imposing when he noticed. “Tell me how it comes that you had him in here for 8 hours and couldn’t even be bothered to give him a glass of water nor give him medical attention? Where are we? At the witch trials,” Hob flinched hard at the words, remembering the trials only too well. Back then he had broken as well, admitting to anything as long as it meant the pain would end. 

To his surprise, the stranger pushed his briefcase further on the desk, blocking Hob’s slumped form from view and gave him at least a bit of privacy as he fought with his demons.

“He killed a man! What do you expect? A fluffed up pillow and a three-course meal?”

“Human decency!” The officer was now absolutely cowering under the pressure, despite his best efforts. “Or are you that desperate you couldn’t take the 10 minutes to have him checked over? Maybe because you know you don’t have a case?”

“Bullshit! I know you love to put your nose where it doesn’t belong, Mr. Henderson. He killed the guy. We found him next to the corpse, and he admitted it was him who made the deceased fall.”

“And wasn’t he also quite persistence that the deceased and another man were the once attacking him, and he was just defending himself? Or are you just going to ignore that? So I suggest instead of harassing the victim, you should rather be out there looking for the second attacker.”

And the officer, despite his complaints and grumbling, got up and left the room. There was no way to know if he was really searching for the other attacker, and if there was even a chance to find the man with how little information Hob had been able to give, but getting a breather was enough for Hob.

His head laid on the desk, the cold helping against his headache, and he just rested his eyes for a moment. He heard movement but ignored Mr. Henderson for now. Or at least he tried to, but the man kneeled down next to Hob’s chair and his hand laid on Hob’s knee. 

Blinking his eyes back open was an effort, but Hob managed and looked down at the concerned eyes looking up at him.

“Mr. Gadling, I wish could say it will be alright, but your situation doesn’t look good. But rest assured, I will do anything in my power to get you out of this.”

“I don’t think I have the money to pay your commission,” Hob was not poor. But the last years after he had fought with his friend, he had let himself go. Gambling, and throwing money at unnecessary luxuries just because he could. When he had pulled his head out of his ass, he had already spent most of his fortune and was now living like the middle class. Not bad, but not enough to pay a man wearing jewelry that could feed a family for at least a year.

“Don’t worry about money. Just focus on getting through this.”

Hob snorted, so either once he was out the man would make demands to be paid back another way, forcing Hob into his servitude, or he was just plain stupid. Saying that straight to the man’s face was not the best idea, but the man just laughed.

“Personally, I see myself as someone just trying to do the right thing, reforming the misdeeds in the justice system.”

So, delusional. But Hob could work with that. And having a delusional lawyer was better than not having one at all, so accepting the help would be best.

“The biggest problem is all we have to confirm your story is your word. Even if the police showed an ounce of competence and finds the other robber, he will tell his own story.” Hob knew all that. He didn’t know why the other even bothered, since there was no way he would get out of here. Not with everyone in the station being hellbent on making sure he went to prison. But at least he got to go to a holding cell for now and take a nap until Mr. Henderson would return the next day. 

And return he did with a big smile on his face. The police had not found the other robber, but they had found a woman hanging around the alleyway, and with a bit of pressure she had admitted to seeing the whole thing backing up Hob’s story. The officers complained and tried to poke holes in his defense, but in the end they had no other option but to accept that his actions had been to defend his own life. 

Things dragged on, Hob being pushed from one cell to the other as people discussed his fate. Mr. Henderson, please call me Edward, was there every step of the way and the only reason why Hob didn’t fell apart. 

Still, Hob couldn’t believe it when the judge finally spoke the words not guilty, and he was stepping into the sun. Till the last moment he had waited for the second shoe to drop, for someone to jump out and present new evidence sending him to jail.

Turning to Edward standing beside him, smiling brightly, he couldn’t help himself, but pulling the man into his arms and thanking him under tears. The man had been there for him, like a true friend, and if he ever needed it, Hob would be there for him in return.

He had lost his stranger, but he was not alone. There were good people out there, just waiting for him. All Hobs had to do was open his heart and accept them. 

With this being over, Hob could move on with his life. Things finally looked up. Or they did until he found out he had no longer a job because of his long absence and his old boss was unwilling to hire a killer despite Hob being proclaimed not guilty. Hob didn’t understand it, but he was unwilling to start a fight. He could find someplace else. Only words of his case had spread through the whole city, and no one was willing to hire him. And without a job there was no money which meant he would be unable to pay his upcoming rent.

But nothing he tried worked. The only positions willing to hire him wouldn’t even make a dent in his rent, even if he had three jobs. And with the housing shortage, there was no place else he could live that would be cheaper. He could move, somewhere no one knew him. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave London. This was his home, where his only friend lived. And he had to be here in a few years to be at the White Horse in case his stranger returned. 

He could ask Edward for help, but he didn’t want it to seem he was just after the other's money. Especially with Edwards business taking a major hit after a person he was defending was proven guilty. Hob tried to help as best as he could behind closed doors but knew he couldn’t do more since it wouldn’t look good on Edward if he was seen with Hob. 

It was a major point of friction. Edward didn’t care about his reputation and had no trouble inviting Hob out for dinner or even hiring him. But Hob refusing frustrated him, especially when Hob even declined his money, despite Edward knowing how much Hob was struggling. He just wanted to support his best friend and being unable to do so and just having to watch how he made himself smaller and smaller, shrinking under all negative attention focused on him angered him.

Their love for each other made them want the best for each other. And it tore their friendship apart. They were unable to spend time together without a disagreement, and then their friendship ended in a big fight. 

And it was Hob fault. He always said the wrong thing, turning away the people he cared about. First his stranger now Edward. Maybe he was meant to be alone.

But the world didn’t stop for his emotional turmoil. The rent needed to be paid, now especially since there was no longer a friend who would have a place on their sofa for Hob to sleep on. And Hob really needed to keep a roof over his head. 

He was terrified of ending back on the street. He did it once, and it was the worst time of his life. Just a nightmare of pain, suffering, anger, blood, and a desperate fight for survival. He knew getting back up once you were so far down was almost impossible. He couldn’t let it get this far. Not if there was something he could do. Even if it means he had to let go of his pride.

The first time wasn’t planed. Was just walking, trying to clear his head and finding a way out. The window was open, everything else dark, and no car in the driveway. He knew it was wrong, he should be better than this. 

He climbed the fence and slipped through the window, heart beating fast as he listened for any sign of life inside the house. Nothing. Sneaking around, he grabbed anything of value. 

Ten minutes later he was out, pockets heavy, and on his way to the pawnshop. It was not enough to pay the rent but enough to satisfy his landlord getting another week before he would be kicked out. 

It made him think about how easy it had been. And how little effort had taken to get the money. And it was not as if he hadn’t tried other options. It was them, society, not giving him a choice. If they had just given him a job, he wouldn’t be in this position. It was their fault, not his. 

And it was not as if he had hurt anyone. A few valuables were gone. And? They could replace it, their house had been nice enough they could afford a small loss like that.

Yes. It was the least all of them deserved for letting him down like this. He would just take what he needed to survive. And it was only temporary until he was back on his feet. They all thought he was a murderer, a bit of stealing was nothing in comparison.

It became a routine, going on nightly strolls and returning with his pocket full. He was good at it. Always knew when someone was home or not, avoided being seen when he made his way inside, and didn’t spend a second longer inside than he had to.

No one had to know what Hob did. Well except, the pawnshop owner, but he didn’t say anything and just gave Hob a price much under the actual value of the items. Hob was fine with that. Paying hush money was better than being ratted out to the police. Especially since the police so far had no idea he even existed. There was always breaking and entering, and he chose his targets so far apart there was no connection. The cops had better things to do than chasing a criminal that didn’t cause real harm. And Hob liked things that way. He had managed to avoid prison once, he didn’t want to risk it, especially since this time there would be no Edward bailing him out.

His rent was paid, he had food in his belly and a new coat. Life was good. Or it should be. There was still the guilt nagging at him that all of this wasn’t his. That he had stolen it and it was wrong. But with every failed attempt to find another source of income, he fell deeper into his ways. It was just too easy. Until weeks passed by without him searching for a legitimate job. 

~1989~

He started hating the man he was becoming. Or rather, he was returning to. He had thought he had become better, had changed. But now he was back at square one. Just a lowlife surviving by harming others. He didn’t want to be like this.

But there was still hope. One last chance to turn things around. Hob may not have the best moral compass – if he had any at all- but his stranger always knew right from wrong. Even before society or law. It had taken him to tell Hob for Hob to realize slavery was wrong. Today it was unthinkable, but back then it has just been how things were. And even then his stranger had known it was wrong. Hob just had to tell him, and his stranger would set him right and correct Hob’s course for the next 100 years.

Yes, all Hob had to do was meet his friend and things would be okay. So he drove to the White Horse in a car he had stolen, full of excitement in the prospect of the weight leaving his chest. He would do better, become good. To get his stranger approval.

But the longer he sat there, alone, the worse he felt. It looked like this was his stranger's answer. They were never and never would be friends. Hob was alone, on his own. There was no one who cared. No one who had any expectations, everyone had given up on him. Why should he even try? If there was no one to judge him, why not make things easy for himself?

Things escalate from there, as there is nothing holding Hob back. So what if the houses he breaks into now are not from some rich fucks but middle class as well? They had shunned him just as well. And their security was a lot laxer. Also, less to steal, but it was enough. And then there was someone home, but the house was way too good to pass up on. But it was okay, he would just be quiet. 

A good plan if not for the man of the house stepping out of his bed to get a glass of water just as Hob was clearing out their silver drawer. They looked at each other frozen, and Hob was glad for the hat and the scarf hiding most of his face. 

Before the other could too much than let out a shocked shout, Hob had jumped over the counter and tackled him to the ground, choking him until he lost conscious. When the wife appeared in the doorway, he was prepared, knocking her unconscious.

He used things found around the house to bind them to two chairs and gag them, before taking his time emptying their whole house. They would call the police anyway, Hob could at least make it worth it. And worth it, it was. He left the pawnshop with a big bundle of cash.

And if he spotted some rich folks taking a shortcut through a dark allay, well then it was their own fault, since they had begged for it. You couldn’t blame Hob for standing there with a knife demanding their valuables in a sick play on the situation that had started this whole thing. But other than his attackers back then, he was just after the money. Once he had what he wanted, he let his victims go unharmed. 

He didn’t kill. That was a line he would never cross again. And if he had to attack someone or render them unconscious, he did it with causing as little harm as possible. It was something which baffled the police and press alike, as they couldn’t decide if he was a monster or a gentleman thief. It was kinda amusing reading about people losing their mind trying to figure him out. Especially since it was that easy. He was just someone no longer following societies rules and just living by his own codex, doing whatever he pleased.

Even if this codex was completely screwed. Like right now, still blood on his knuckles from having to knock someone out who resisted, but being offended by a bunch of teens ganging up on a gangly little thing. It just strokes him wrong, seeing something like this. 

But it is not his problem. There is no need to get involved.

Or at least it wasn’t until the boy rose his head and looked straight at Hob. Dark brown eyes, with hair of the same color. But that was not what stopped Hob in his tracks. He looked just like Robyn. Well, not exactly, it was more the vibes he was giving up. But Hob couldn’t stop seeing his son laying there on the ground beaten and bloody, his tormentors surrounding him.

He moved before he really thought about it. 

His fist connected with the nose of the guy to the left. The bone crunched under the impact and the guy stumbled back, shouting in pain. That got the attention of the rest of his group, who instantly stepped in to avenge their friend. With no option to back out of this anymore, Hob just went with the flow and beat everyone getting into punching distance. They had the numbers, but they were untrained and rather stood in each other's way than taken advantage and overpowering Hob. Which leads to Hob standing between fallen bodies, breathing heavy and blood on his shirt but mostly unharmed beside a few bruises. 

Walking over to the fallen boy, he saw him flinch. Hob hadn’t meant to scare him, although the display of violence must have been frightening. But he didn’t feel comfortable leaving him sitting on the ground with unknown injuries, especially since his attackers would get up soon. 

He wanted to gain the boy's trust, but Hob had forgotten how to be comforting and soft. Hadn’t had need for it in years. Even for Edward, he had not managed to bring back that part of himself. Which was just as well because Edward liked his brash and direct way.

But now he tried, crouching down, holding out his hands and speaking softly. “It's okay. I took care of them,” well, he tried. He failed miserably, sounding more threatening than reassuring, but he had tried. How had he managed to deal with Robyn without frightening the child? He couldn’t remember. And wasn’t that sad? Not remembering this everyday life with his son, only holding some special memories close to his heart while the rest faded?

Knowing that his presence would only distress the boy more, he got up and turned to leave. He would just call the police to check things out, once he was far enough away. Only there was a tug on his pant leg and turning he saw the boy grasping the fabric with shaking fingers. The big teary eyes looking up at Hob broke his heart, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down again and pulling the boy into his arms. Crying and wailing filled the alley, but the boy clung to Hob desperately. 

Carrying him into his arm and towards Hob’s apartment, reminded Hob of the times Robyn had been unable to sleep and Hob had walked through the whole house with the child in his arm to keep him calm, while Elenore watched them with a smile. He had forgotten it until his actions pulled the memory back up.

Entering his building, he sat the boy on his sofa and retrieved his extensive med-kit. Being unable to die meant treating injuries yourself that would bring up questions, going to the hospital. He didn’t need much of it to treat the boy. The injuries had looked worse than they actually were. A bloody nose, bruising, scratched hands and knees, a gash close to his hairline that luckily didn’t need stitches, and a cracked wrist. 

Once the task was done, Hob looked at the boy awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“You want tea?” You could never go wrong with tea. The boy nodded and Hob set to work, returning with two mugs of tea.

“Thank you,” the voice was shy and soft. But at least the shaking had stopped as the kid started to relax.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hob meant it. Neither the tea nor stepping in had been much trouble, and Hob had done it for his own piece of mind. There was no need t thank him.

Hob swirled the tea in his mug, not knowing what to say. Should he give the kid money for a taxi? Take him home? Offer him the sofa for tonight? Hob didn’t know. 

Luckily for him, the boy was not as incapable of social interaction as he was.

“My name is Georgie Baldwin. What about you.”

“Hob,” he didn’t give a last name. The less the boy knew, the better it was for him with the life Hob lived.

“Thank you for saving me, Hob,” the boy put down his empty mug, hugged Hob and then left the apartment before Hob could compose himself. He looked at the closed door not understanding what exactly had happened, but then he just shrugged. Another weird day in his weird life. No need to think deeper about it. It was not as if hew would see the boy ever again.

After cleaning up the medical equipment, he laid in bed, unable to sleep. 

The encounter had brought up memories of a happier time. It made him realize just how lonely he felt. There was a gnawing emptiness in his chest, where his heart once was. He wanted someone to be there for him, to greet him when he got home, to care if he made it home. He didn’t want t be alone anymore. But every time he tried he messed up and ended up back alone. It was better to not try, and be disappointed rather than to suffer.

But knowing that didn’t fill the emptiness in his chest and no matter how much he tried he didn’t find any rest. Which left him cranky and short temperate when he stomped to the door, mug with extra strong coffee in hand, to tell whoever was on the other side to fuck off. Throwing the door open, he came face to face with the kid from yesterday.

The door banged close, as Hob didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever bullshit this was. Instead, he took a big swing of his coffee, cursed as it burned his tongue, and debated if a nice fluffy omelet was worth the effort of actually making it. 

His doorbell chimed again.

Hadn’t he been clear enough in his dismissal? But no, when he opened the door, the boy was still standing there smiling at him. What a prick. But not stupid, as he held out a bag that smelled heavenly of backed goods as bribery. 

With his stomach grumbling, Hob admitted defeat and took the bag, leaving the door open as he stepped inside. The boy had already been here, it wouldn’t do any harm to let him in. But Hob was not in the mood to play good host right now and didn’t offer any tea or coffee. Ripping open the bag, he found muffins and chocolate croissants. All things considered, it was a good bribe.

Humming happily, he dug in as the boy sat down watching him carefully. 

“So what so you want kid?” 

“It’s Georgie,” the way the kid pouted was kinda cute. He must have old ladies want to feed him all over town. “I want you to teach me how to fight.” Hob choked on the bit of croissant. He couldn’t say if it was his immortality or Georgie slapping his back that prevented him from entering the sunless lands. Whipping tears out of his eyes, he looked at the kid as if he had lost his mind.

“Are you completely crazy? Why would you ask me?”

 “The way you fought was amazing. Please, I want to be able to do it too.”

“Hard pass. Why the heck should I teach a brat?”

“I can pay you,” the kid dove for his pocket and placed a stack of bills on the table. It was no small amount. So, a rich brat. Well, it was not as Hob really needed money with how well his business was going. And he would rather not involve the kid by accident. If he went down for his actions it was one thing but dragging a kid down with him was completely different. And if he gave in now, he just knew the kid would one day rob houses side by side with him.

“Pass. Go home kid. You are young and have a bright life ahead of you. There is no need to get involved with the likes of me.”

“But what if they come back?! I need to be able to defend myself,” Hob just groaned as this was just playing unfair. Especially since it was a fair point. The bullies had found him once, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t do worse when Hob was not close by to step in. It was just unfair. Hob was not responsible for the kid, could barely remember his name. But he had made it his responsibility when he stepped in. The least he could do was see things through now.

“Okay fine. I will teach you self-defense. Nothing more. And you will stay out of my business.”

“Deal,” the kid smiled brightly as he held out his hand for Hob to shake. Knowing that one day he would regret this Hob took the offered hand.

[sfaghetti]

oh just finished bara no konrei and I think this is how the plot goes ? do correct me if I'm wrong with anything I'm just trying to put together my thoughts here. anyways plot summarized/explained:

btw I'll use she/her for Mana's character for easier distinction since all characters other than Cecil r men and Mana's can be interpreted as either a man or a woman, so. also Dracula is played by Yu~ki.

Klaha and Cecil are engaged and due to marry in a week but Dracula sends Klaha a letter saying he wants to purchase a manor and is asking for advice, Klaha agrees to go visit him and has to postpone the wedding by another week making Cecil very upset, but she agrees as long as he does arrive in time like he promised. while he's at Dracula's mansion, she has dreams of a vampire coming for her and her staying with him. she goes to church to confess her dreams to the nun who is Mana and Mana tells her to pray.

meanwhile at the mansion, Klaha sees a painting of a woman that sticks out to him due to her resemblance to Cecil, Dracula realizes that he's looking at the painting and says that it's his late wife. later, during dinner, Dracula sees Klaha's locket with a picture of Cecil. after they dine he sends Klaha off to his room to sleep and here is where Klaha dreams of women (who seem to be other vampires) who touch him all over while he's tied to a cross.

while Klaha sleeps Közi, who is a vampire, keeps drinking the blood out of human women, until he arrives to Cecil's room where he is stopped by Mana who tells him that he cannot touch Cecil for she's meant to be Dracula's virgin bride. Közi asks her why she's doing all this for Dracula, she says that it's because Dracula saved her life and then it goes to a flashback where we can see Mana inside the church then all of the sudden Közi opens the door and warns her that they're coming for her, a crowd appears and they forcibly take Mana while holding Közi back.

the crowd brings Mana to the stake and burns her while Közi can only watch, for what it seems she didn't truly die at the stake and got saved by Dracula by being turned into a vampire as well. we're back to the present and Közi asks her why she's still living as undead when her revenge has been fulfilled and she says that it's to keep the faith of those who believe in God, this could probably mean that despite being a living dead she's still catholic? since she seemingly stays with her role of a nun. Közi leaves and then she sits on Cecil's bed.

while this was going on Klaha wakes up and realizes he's been asleep for far too long, he walks out of the room and sees that now the painting of Dracula's late wife has "Cecil" written over it. he rushes out to go back home.

by this time Dracula was on his way to where Cecil lives. before arriving Dracula went on drinking the blood of the people that Mana brought to him to regain his youth. at the same time, Cecil receives another letter, which wasn't written by Klaha, telling her that he's gonna take another week because he'll have to teach Dracula the customs of the people that live there.

Dracula and Cecil finally meet up and after their first meeting he goes to her room and turns her into a vampire. Klaha arrives and finds Cecil already turned, and he arranges for an exorcism to be performed to save her.

during the exorcism Dracula arrives and breaks the ropes that were holding back Cecil, he kills everyone in the room except Cecil and Klaha, embracing her once he's done. Klaha picks up a knife/dagger to stab him but Dracula disappears with Cecil before he's able to.

after Dracula disappears Közi manifests himself in the same room and tells Klaha that he's not here to hurt him but to help him. he tells Klaha where he can find Dracula and asks him if he believes in god, as to which Klaha says he does. Közi tells him that it's harder to kill a vampire the more religious you are. maybe a reference back to Mana staying religious despite being a vampire/being devoted to one? Klaha asks him why he's helping him and Közi says that it's to defend his territory, Klaha thanks him and leaves.

next we see Cecil being laid on a table with Mana and Dracula at her side. Dracula slits his own wrist so that Cecil can drink from him and this is when Klaha arrives. he tries to engage in a fight with Dracula but Dracula quickly overpowers him. when Dracula is about to kill him Közi arrives and saves him and gets into a fight with Dracula. by the end of the fight Közi kills himself for some reason? might have been because he realized he couldn't defeat Dracula and he'd rather go out on his own. he doesn't fully succeed in his suicide and while bleeding out he asks Klaha to finish him, which he does.

Klaha goes to Cecil, but then she opens her mouth and he realizes that she's a vampire now. Mana (who had also gotten in the middle of the fight between Közi and Dracula) tells Klaha that Cecil must die then she falls to the ground. Klaha tries to stab Cecil but Dracula gets between them protecting her. Dracula offers her his blood to drink and while she's drinking Klaha takes this chance to stab him and finally kill him. after he's done with Dracula he stabs her also and she falls to the ground. he's about to finish her off but instead he slits his hand to feed her and she holds him close. next shot is of them waking up together with wedding clothes on, he picks her up and they walk out together.

did they both die and it was them in the afterlife? did they both become vampires? was it just a near-death hallucination? not sure but either way it was really enjoyable

would love to have seen it in black and white though

[puer-aurea]

been thinking abt a fully fleshed out mercenary au since i posted that oneshot for sixth day of christmas so.... heres a drabble

jimmy and martyn are, ofc, human mercenaries who call themselves the big dogs so they can seem scarier than they really are. theyre mostly homeless theres a rumour abt a witch who lives in the woods and everyone thinks its lizzie but when they show up shes like "oh no thats scar!" and points to her very eccentric and flamboyant neighbor who lives across the river. scar looks NOTHING like a witch but when you go in, you come back out with exactly the potion you wanted, several others you didnt actually need, significanctly less money than what you went in with, and absolutely no memory of actually being inside and making the purchase. hes incredibly suspicious but godDAMN do his potions and crystals work well skizz owns a building plaza named the heart foundation where he rents out sections to people for their stores (yk like those buildings that are connected stores?? i really hope this makes sense). tango is his assistant as well as bigb but bigb is super weird and disappears a lot. tango was the one to suggest the coffee shop idea that martyn overheard. skizz is an angel and tango is an imp lizzie and scar own one of the spaces where they sell very normal things like farm produce and things that would usually be hard for the other members of the community to get like amethyst and food enchanted with elven magic. as well as very specific bones lizzie has found (no, she will NOT tell you where she got them, yes they are organic, she declines to answer if they are ethically sourced). scar is an elf which is why he's able to sell elven enchanted food. the roomies own one of the store spaces and mostly sell wool products but theyve started farming cotton in hopes of expanding their market. they live together on a farm with a fence covered in vines surrounding it so the animals can wander about sometimes. since they sell wool products, they have a lot of sheep, so when they need the sheep back in their pen they hire mercenaries to do it for them. cleo is the only zombie in the community and, while grian was mentioned as an avian in the oneshot, hes actually going to be a fae. everyone thinks etho is a human but he barely leaves home so cleo and grian are the only ones who know for sure whether or not he is gem is the girl who just moved in with the dream of starting a band. she ends up with an imp and an angel both named scott and they call themselves gem and the scotts. they rent one of skizz's spaces for a studio and gem lives in the apartment above it. impulse, scott the imp, lives in a cave, and scott the angel lives in a cottage on the edge of the woods (so not as far in as lizzie and scar) the mounders live in 4 big old creepy houses that look completely different on the inside than they do outside. its also a 'gated' community but they dont care enough to enforce it. mumbo and pearl are both vampires, bdubs is a fae, and joel is an elf. ren is also around to add more people to their little community even tho this uses the alliances made in secret life. he lives in a smaller house a little ways away from scott's cottage. he seems human enough but theres a rumor that he's a werewolf. no one really knows what bigb and lizzie are, scott even introduces them to gem as the 'suspicious weirdos' and cleo and grian joke that not even they know what they are.

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

Incoherent Renfield meta I guess???

So in terms of what Stoker wanted to convey, I don't think he was quite aware of the extent of awfulness and psychiatric abuse Seward was dealing out to Renfield (although you cannot convince me that he was unaware that Seward was a bit of a little freak like that's just characterization how could he have done such a thorough job of creating such a pathetic little man by accident)- however there definitely is this story of idk. growth that comes from compassion, and I wish I could hear from Stoker himself what he was going for with it.

We all want to root for Renfield bc god anyone that goes through Victorian lunatic asylum trauma you immediately want to see win- but when we do see Renfield use his limited agency to do things, they are often selfish and violent things. He very much does want to join the Count, and wants to gain that immortality and power that the Count has. I don't know that there's evidence Renfield wants to dominate the way the Count does but Renfield believes that blood will strengthen him and he for sure is all in on taking human life and feeding on human blood. He does attack Seward and also those guys who were moving the Count and I fully believe that he would have killed them if left to his own devices. He has no power and has been systemically abused... but he's also dangerous.

However, the more I examine his actions... why would he be anything other than selfish and dangerous. Who does he have in life that would cause him to bother with empathy? We know so little about who he was before being admitted. He almost killed two people in the course of this novel- but before that did he try anything violent or was it just the consuming animals thing that got him locked up? Did he have people he cared about? We just don't know.

What's interesting to me is he seems to be on this track of enthusiastically aiding and abetting the Count in his efforts to kill others (and the Count is for sure manipulating him and it's not an equal relationship, but I do think that Renfield understands that the Count does hurt and kill people, and accepts this at the beginning of the novel) but the moment Mina speaks to him and seems decent and kind he immediately has a fit of conscience. There's this implicit understanding "oh she will be hurt, I like her, she doesn't deserve to be hurt." It's more than just an immediate change though. He begs Seward to not let him be alone at night bc he knows that he's not going to be equal to resisting the temptation to let the Count in- and he's super not. And the Count may have been doing vampire mind powers on him, but I don't think that's the full story. The Count tempts him with life. and Renfield despite understanding that Mina is going to be hurt, still wants that life and that immortality enough to let him in. He has a developed dream and he has the desire to do right by Mina and they're at odds.

His ensuing conversation with Seward about souls is so interesting because it's this conflict put under a microscope. He is pleased and excited at the thought he's going to finally get to consume life and be immortal, and he's seemed to make the decision to just ignore the part of it he knows is wrong, but Seward presses the fuck out of the idea that every life he takes means that he is responsible for the soul of the organism as well and this just. Undoes Renfield. When treated like an adult Renfield is capable of engaging with morality and finding his own moral code of right and wrong, and this combined with the fact that he has a face for Mina in the way he never had a face for Lucy is what causes him to give up everything trying to right his mistake.

I think he could have gotten there much sooner than he did. But he lives in an asylum and the person he talks to the most is a doctor who is obsessed with studying him like a lab rat and who does not think about Renfield as a human being who might be able to function in society again after treatment. Isolated and friendless as Renfield was he could ignore the morality of his actions and pursue his own ends. The moment Mina treats him normally that worldview becomes untenable and he begins a slow days long process of accepting that he cannot go on helping the Count. It's a very thought out decision for him. He is giving up his life's work because he realized his life's work was wrong. That's a lot.

This seems like a cautionary tale to treat people like people honestly. Even when they have severe and rather unpleasant mental illnesses that make then kill and consume animals raw. In the end Renfield was perfectly capable of understanding that he didn't have the right to fuck with the lives of others to suit his own ends. He learned that lesson. I bet he could have learned that lesson without so much bloodshed if anyone had cared to reach out to him earlier.

[gabessquishytum]

We haven't talked about Vampire AUs in a while, have we?

Vampire!Dream who meets with Hob every 100 years, like in canon. Perhaps Hob gained immortality on his own, perhaps from Death, or directly from Dream's magical abilities. Then when Dream is imprisoned, the world changes. Vampires are suddenly out and a common threat. Humanity is mass-producing crosses and spikes. But there seems to be a kind of status quo, not a downright war.

After a while, Dream goes to seek Hob out, but he has trouble finding him. He consults Death because she knows many immortals (she's much more fascinated with them than Dream, Dream is only fascinated with Hob). Death breaks the news – Hob has been taken by a group of vampires. He is a rare blood type that makes vampires super powerful, like cocain and ecstasy and all the good stuff in one. Plus, he is immortal, so a bottomless source of this super drug.

Dream is furious, and Death doesn't help when she mentions that Dream surely knew what danger Hob was in. He did not. He never drank from humans if he didn't have to or came across some real asshole who deserved it. He never drank from Hob and never got so close that he would smell his blood type. But some other vampire did get close to HIS human, and took advantage of him, and STOLE HIM FROM DREAM.

Death hasn't been able to free Hob by herself. Those vampires are many and jacked up on vampire coke. But Dream is ANGRY. And he is frustrated. He hadn't killed any assholes in a hundred years. Fuelled by that he kills all of the vampires and frees Hob, who is very happy to see him. Dream probably admits to himself that he might have feelings for Hob, and Hob for him.

Additional angst: Hob expects Dream to drink from him. The first few days, it's nice that Dream is giving him a break. But then it gets weird and awkward. So he asks Dream when will he be hungry, and Dream is confused. Hob knows that he doesn't drink from humans, and why the hell would he drink from his friend?

Unlimited power. Combined with his magic, Dream would be unstoppable. That is why. It's okay, Hob is honestly happy to give that to Dream voluntarily rather than having it taken from him by heartless captors. Dream is honestly honoured that Hob would trust him with that. But FUCK NO. He would never do that to Hob, much less for something as stupid as endless power. Hob breaks down in happy tears.

- 🚒

Oh hell yeah we love a vampire au around here!

Poor Hob… I’m obsessed with the idea of Dream breaking him out of the place he was being kept, but Hob is so weak he keeps on dying and struggling to recover. His healing abilities have been compromised because he’s been tortured so much. So poor Dream has to watch him die multiple times until his body is finally able to cling on to life.

Dream nurses him back to full health. Hob finds it hard to believe that Dream isn’t even a little tempted to drink from him, and that’s when Dream admits that he loves Hob. The idea of hurting him in any way sickens him. And he doesn’t want that kind of power, anyway. Fuck, he just wants to live in peace with Hob - a proper life where they’re both happy and safe.

Surprise! Hob very much wants that, too. He’s been pining after Dream for centuries. He had absolutely no idea that Dream even liked him, let alone loved him. They make an insane couple, as far as the rest of the world are concerned - humans and vampires can’t be in love! How ridiculous.

Except. They make it work. Dream works on seeking out asshole vampires who are taking advantage of humans. Hob tries to persuade other people that it’s possible to find some kind of equilibrium and live alongside the vampires. Hell, it’s not perfect. But they’re trying their best.

And Dream always comes to Hob’s aid. Even if the danger is just a stove-burn <3

[ghoulphile]

here, queer, a lil stoned, and with ghoul rot q/a

do you lean more towards the ghoul be fuckin head cannon or the 200 years of celibacy head cannon? personally i like both but in my opinion post war coop is low key a slut.

if the tv show ever ends up with a season in the commonwealth/goodnieghbor do you think we'd get a live action John Hancock? who's your dream hancock actor? (if you have one)

fav ghoul/coop headcannon?

ps im glad you and your wifey are ok! i really hope yall were able to still enjoy the long weekend!

──★ ˙🍓 ̟

do you lean more towards the ghoul be fuckin head cannon or the 200 years of celibacy head cannon? personally i like both but in my opinion post war coop is low key a slut.

i like both and i def see the thoughts of celibacy (man was in a hole in the ground for some odd years lol) but i do lean more towards him fuckin.

now there's no tender kisses or sweet nothings. just a quick and dirty tumble that leaves you soaked in sweat (maybeeee some regret) as he satisfies urges and nothing more. it would take a whole lot more than that to get him to open up.

if the tv show ever ends up with a season in the commonwealth/goodnieghbor do you think we'd get a live action John Hancock? who's your dream hancock actor? (if you have one)

as much as i would love-love-love to see a live action hancock!!!! i don't know if we will :/

i remember reading somewhere that bethesda has been approached many times to make a live-action fallout and they were never satisfied with the ideas pitched to them.

what made this time around different is that it was a fresh idea set in the same universe which tells me they prefer to have an original story opposed to a re-hash of one that's already been told.

that said, i think it would be amazing to have cameos from the games and i think a lot of people would love it too so i hope they consider throwing us a bone lol.

you know i've never thought about it before, but off the top of my head, i think tom hardy, sam reid or jacob anderson (do not look @ me rn i am going thru it with interview with the vampire ok?!? but they are both fantastic actors), boyd holbrook, james mcavoy or oscar isaac.

there are some others but i cannot for the life of me think of their names rn 💀

any faves for you??

fav ghoul/coop headcannon?

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 🤔

there’s a lot but ig one of my personal coop hcs (that kind of relates to barb) is that he’s more in love with barb than she is him — not that she doesn’t love him or rather didn’t at one point in time!! but more so she fell out of love with him while he was away at war and by the time he came home, she had already mourned him and moved on. (i.e. the convo where she talks about how she waited every night for news on whether he was alive or not, how she always seems startled by him touching her, how she hesitates to kiss him back etc etc)

and as fallout is based off the 50s divorce was a big no no, so have a baby bc that’ll make everything better (it doesn’t).

another hc attached to that is coop was injured at the battle of anchorage (his talks with bud about the power armor etc also i think i read somewhere that he was honorably discharged too but idk if that’s canon-canon) and was possibly even MIA for a bit which forced her to mourn him and their relationship. only to then be faced with him coming back home very much alive… and she’s not in love with him anymore but can’t leave so she has to make do.

because that man is in love with her so much it’s sickening!!! heart eyes!!! touch is his love language!!! he’s willing and ready to drop everything as soon as he sees her. whereas the first time i was introduced to them as a couple in that scene by the crafts table, and it was revealed that they were married i went oh, he’s into her more than she is him. here he is loving on her and she kind of pauses, hesitates as she decides what to do before ultimately leaning in to give him a quick peck back. and from there on out he’s the one initiating the intimacy. reaching out. and she always seems so thrown off by it when he CLEARLY loves her. idk i’m rambling sorry this got so long lmao.

anywayyyy thank you!! she ended up pinching a nerve in her lower back while riding her motorcycle and couldn’t walk 💀 but the er got her sorted so we were able to relax today 🥰

[gx-gameon]

Episode 34

Jaden is already having nightmares about losing duel and dooming his friends to the shadow realm. Get this boy some therapy now.

No we are only on episode 34 of this series and the boy already feels so much pressure to be the hero.

Syrus bring up the nightmare and reminding Jaden of it. Chumley glaring at him.

I love the difference between Syrus, Chazz and Chumley having fun and messing around vs Jaden having all these dark thoughts about his current situation. About how dueling is no longer a game.

All the duel spirits leading their partners to the ‘spirit festival’

Why is there a portal to the spirit world in the boys bath???

You know au Jaden nearly lost it when he hear his Oto-san’s voice only to find out it was Kaiba man

I have a strong head cannon that Seto want a card that helped bring Blue eyes out faster, Pegasus made the card (a colab between the two) to Kaiba when Jaden was still young. He made it with Jaden’s love of heroes in mind and to poke fun at Kaiba. Seto hated it when he first saw it and wanted a redesign but then little Jaden squealed and was so pumped that Seto was a super hero!!! And you know it is a good card to get blue eye on to the field so he might as well keep it. Never mind the fact that Jaden loves it, that doesn’t factor in at all….

So when Jaden turns to find Kaiba man there he almost wants to cry. He’s under so much stress. And he really wants his Dads but he doesn’t want to put them in danger and now this duel spirit is here which is a reflection of his Oto-san and it’s just a lot

But then all of those feeling go as he jumps to the conclusion that this is a shadow rider trick. And he’s furious because that’s his Oto-san’s card and now he has to duel it for his life?? How many more of his families cards are going to try and kill him? Joey’s Jinzo and Red Eyes, Seto’s vampire lord, the Ishtar tomb keepers. And now Kiaba man!!!

And it doesn’t help that Kaiba man won’t tell him if he’s a shadow rider. No he just challenges the kid. Jaden of course accepts and then this man stands there and reads Jaden for filth. “I sense fear a deep fear of what losing will cost you and your friends” ratting out Jaden’s fear and insecurities to his friends

And then pulls out Blue eyes on the kid. I know cannon Jaden is just shocked by the card but Au Jaden is about to face his Oto-san’s spiritual protector being wielded by a ‘shadow rider’ who looks and sounds just like his Oto-san he’s not having a great time

I love that cannon Kaiba made Kaiba man that’s hilarious

“I summon myself” got to love Gx

“Witness the beast that will feast upon your souls.” Not the best thing to say to Jaden right now.

Au Jaden knows these cards, he knows these strategies. He grew up watching Oto-san defeat enemy after enemy using them. He’s dueled against them before. But he’s never won against his Oto-san before. And unlike his duel against Yugi’s deck this isn’t some copy cat taking the deck of a soon. No Kaiba man is dueling just like his Oto-san does.

Jaden is giving it all he’s got. He’s got Edgeman out and skyscraper. He’s able to take out one of the blue eye impressing everyone even Chazz.

But he’s full of fake confidence “I am so over my fear” he says while sweating. “The trick is to take what you’re afraid of and not let it happen.” Oh sweet boy no.

Kaiba man is immediately on him. He only beat one blue eyes. “The fate of you and your friends is still in the balance and you have to accept that and face it head on.” “This is how a true duelist lives not afraid of defeat but always ready to accept it this is the nature of dueling.”

Love Chazz being the one to recognize that the deck is the same as Seto Kaiba’s.

Blue eyes ultimate dragon!!! The fact that Jade dreamed of this dragon. Au Jaden has to be going crazy.

“If you won’t except defeat I’ll force it on you.” Defusing ultimate to get out three blue eyes is crazy.

Winged Kuiroh is all worried for his partner. And the first thing Jaden does is cry out for his friends

Oh Jaden was hurt in the duel.

“Defeat is nothing to be scared of Jaden. What matters is if you can get up after.” The whole duel was to comfort Jaden “are you afraid anymore.” “No im not.” “Because you faced it and you’re okay. And so are they.”

Kuriboh the one who brought them there just to help out Jaden.

Syrus why are you saying that these spirits are just cards.

I love Jaden thanking winged kuiboh.

In the au this is going to go crazy. At this point Jaden has faces his Dad’s/Uncle Atem’s deck (had to win it back form a theif) his Uncle Joey’s cards (Jinzo and Red Eyes) in shadow duels. He has to be freaked out. The cards that have always protected him are now being used against him, sometimes with his very soul on the line.

He’s stressed and afraid of what will happen to him and his friends if he doesn’t win. And this all leads to his nightmare about Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon attacking him and killing him and his friends. His Oto-san’s vampire lord was just used against him and it’s the only Ace from the original DM deck he hasn’t faced yet.

(He can’t even imagine facing off against Silent Magician or Gandora)

But he has this horrible nightmare and he just can’t shake it.

Winged Kuriboh reaches out to the other spirits about his partners dream and how to help him. His calls make it all the way to Yugi and Seto’s monsters. They are outraged at the thought of someone using them against Jaden and deeply hurt that Jaden now fears them.

They reach out to their duelist and while Yugi and Seto want to rush to their son and fix his problems for him they know they can’t. So they do the next best thing.

In a very Kaiba move, Seto send Kaiba man. He instructs him to use his deck and to not hold back. Jaden has to face this fear head on. He never wanted Blue eyes to be used against him or his family, so Jaden dream really hurts him to. If there is one card Jaden can trust will never hurt him it’s Blue Eyes. Sending Kaiba man will do two things. Show Jaden it’s okay to lose, and that blue eyes will never actually harm Jaden.

At the end of the duel Jaden is exhausted and his chest hurts from anxiety and his winds from Shadowrider and Camula, but he has no new injuries for Blue Eyes attacks.

Yes Winged Kuriboh set everything up but Kaiba man reports to Kaiba. He knows all about the duel.

Also question why do you think the writers let Jaden beat a copy of Yugi’s deck but lose to Kaiba’s like use different circumstances and lessons but it is interesting to look at.

Episode 35

Chazz if the goal is to go back to obelisk blue why did you go so hard on the room renovation? 

Love that Jaden and Syrus just start jumping on his bed and then very casually “principle Sheppard says he wants to see you.” “What about?” “Oh just the fate of duel academy.” They are still jumping on the bed. I love that the school getting shut down at this point is so unexciting

Au Jaden hearing that someone wants to buy out duel academy. In his head “too-San is not going to like this.”

The. He hears that the person wants to fire all the teachers and shit down the school and he thinks back to all the times Seto angrily said he was going to fire all the teachers and possibly shut down the school “never mind he might be thrilled!” He won’t be. A Kaiba never loses

Love that Kaiba in cannon says “I don’t care about the money. It’s about the cards. Beat one of my students and the school is yours.”

You know au Seto was so excited for his son to whoop them. Jaden’s become the go to kid for duel academy. Seto’s sure that they will pick either Zane, top student, or Jaden as revenge for beating their brother on public television.

He did not expect them to pick their own kid brother. He hates these two with a fiery passion. He’s not worried. Jaden says that Chazz is a good duelist so he will trust the kid.

Seto is wild for saying yes to a duel between and adult and a child where the adult can use any card even super expensive. And the child can only use monster cards with less than 500

All the kids turning on Chazz and Chazz having to walk through the halls and listen to that crap

Jaden standing up for him “duelist don’t come much tougher.”

“That’s the problem.” I love that it’s Zane who catches on that Chazz’s deck is to strong

Dr banner you are a teacher. You have to have a better solution then go to the haunted well that’s full of angry abandoned spirits

Jaden is sing the theme song. You got to love a dub

Jaden goes with him because he’s worried about the duel spirits. Chazz is so chill about spirits. It’s just Jaden it doesn’t matter if he sounds crazy

The Ojama brothers!! All the weak duel spirits want to go. Chazz “anyone who wants to can come with me.” You are such a softy

I know him and Jaden picked up all of those cards together.

The animation of his brother’s fist shaking is a very nice detail.

It’s such a good duel. It’s the first time Chazz uses the Ojama’s and it’s such a great character moment for Chazz.

The boy who only cared about strength is using a weak deck and showing off his ability to strategize. It’s such a good show of Chazz’s growth.

Love that he makes them do his chant. But “you go bye bye” is still not the catchphrase you think it is you need.

Seto “of course he won. You really think I’d give my school to those two? They have a lot to learn about world domination.” Sir. Love the confidence but are you teaching classes on how to dominate the world now?

Chazz’s room in Slifer dorm is full of duel spirits and he’s so over it. His new family.

Episode 36

Bastian wants them all to be ready. But it’s the first time I’ve seen someone summon a monster to wake people up. (As serious as Bastian claims to be he really is just a silly kid like the rest of them.

Ahh the card crush episode. (In the sub isn’t Jaden like super confused by this concept??) Bastian please chose a different card to have a ‘not crush’ on

Tania bribing the students to build her an arena. (Aren’t they in love with her after she beat them?)

Alexis being upset that Tania won’t duel her.

Tania having two decks does make her a nice balance for Bastian and his six decks.

Tania these are children. 1st years 14-15 or is it 15-16? Either way they are babies. Not potential husbands.

Like she’s very fun and I love her energy. She keeps out smarting him and the Narrative makes them a good balance. And I know she comes back in season 3 and she’s a duel spirit. But how old are you???

Amazoness paladin has Mai hair and it’s a nice call back to her since she played the amazoness in DM

I know she’s doing this to distract him but Bastian falling for it. Sigh

Jaden is over this. Asking for barf bags. He’s so un serious.

Bastian losing because he got distracted by someone flirting with his relatable but also feels disrespectful.

She just kicked them all out and kept her man. Like wow.

Episode 37

Bastian and Tania broke up because he can’t win. This is the beginning of the down fall of Bastian. Is this why he goes crazy in season 2? Like he does get pushed to the side by the narrative. But he feels like everyone forgot about him. Did the fear of not being good enough start here?

He’s going through such a ruff break up. Bastian would blast Taylor Swift’s ‘down bad’

Jaden “just duel her again” “‘I’ll be your wingman.” I love the energy but maybe “don’t take no for an answer.” isn’t the best advise to give. No is always an answer.

Jaden is trying to hard to help his friend.

Immediately distracted by a duel. He takes up that duel offer so fast.

They are spiritually fist fighting. Gx is so ridiculous

Bastian is back! Hurray.

Her turning into a tiger is wild.

We will stop here for now. We got two really good episodes for the au and two Bastian episodes. I’ll probably switch somethings up in the Bastian duels or maybe I’ll leave them as is. We shall see when I get to writing this.