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luminnara · 3 years

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God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x oc CH 9

(oops no gif because the ones i want won’t upload right now)

Just as a reminder, lost boys requests are OPEN!

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Tags: @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh

Warnings: Blood, gore, vampire things

Hearing a strange voice in her head nearly drove Vera into a panic. When she realized she was hearing Max, she nearly flew into a second panic, the sire’s strong, firm voice only reassuring her that all of her fears were correct and he wasn’t going to like her very much.

As she walked along the beach, bare toes sinking into the sand, Dwayne at her side, Vera briefly wondered how hard it would be to kill Max if it came down to a struggle. Did she have a chance against him? Maybe, if she stooped low enough to cry for her own sire, he would come and take care of it—

“Hey, chill out,” Dwayne said, stopping and turning towards her slightly. “What’s wrong?”

She realized she had halted and was simply standing there, staring at nothing as her mind raced. He could probably feel how freaked out she was getting, and as she looked at him, she found a gentle, understanding expression on his face.

“C’mere,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and comforting.

He opened his arms in invitation and she dove right in, moving quickly and desperately enough that she knocked him right onto his ass. He landed in the sand with a laugh, situating the two of them so that she could sit in his lap and they could face the dark, never ending ocean.

“Did Max freak you out?” Dwayne asked as Vera tucked her head under his chin.

“...a little.”

“Why?”

She sighed. Something about Dwayne made her feel so safe that she was actually considering talking with him about things she hadn’t even told David yet. “Because I’m not used to this. I’m used to vampires who want me out of their territory the second I even get close, and I can’t really blame them.”

“This is your territory, too.” He said. “You’re the one who’ll be kicking people out of it now.”

“I don’t think Max is going to like me.” She grumbled.

“Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “Because he’ll see me as a threat.”

“Max isn’t like that.”

“You’re just saying that now because he’s your sire.”

“No, I’m saying it because I mean it.” Dwayne rested his cheek on the top of her head, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her back. “Max wants a family. Now you’re part of that family.”

He sounded so sure of his own words that Vera was actually feeling inclined to believe him for a moment. “Parents don’t tend to like me.”

“Anyone who can handle having Paul in their pack can handle you.”

She scoffed. “He isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe to you.” Dwayne chuckled. He tightened his arms around her when he realized that his jokes weren’t very reassuring. “Max is a good man. A good sire.”

“Why?” Vera asked. “What does he do that makes you like him so much?”

“Well,” Dwayne situated them a bit better, getting more comfortable. “He’s fair. He acts stern, but...he sees himself as our father.”

“Don’t they always?” Vera grumbled.

“He calls David his prodigal son, but he always wanted a whole family. He ended up with the four of us.”

“So, what? He plucked you all up out of the gutter and that makes him a good guy?”

“Why are you so determined to hate him?”

“I’m not!” she protested. “I’m just...wary.”

“Max gave us new lives.” Dwayne sighed. “He found us back in San Francisco after we got ourselves in some trouble with another vampire.”

Vera had to snort in amusement at that. “Seriously? Who’d you pick a fight with? Dracula?”

“Well…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He flashed her a smile. “How were we supposed to know who he was?”

“Humans really have no self preservation instincts, do they?”

“Apparently not.” Dwayne chuckled, squeezing her.

“How long ago was it?”

“1906, same year as that big earthquake. Tore the whole city apart...it was the perfect time for four vampires to start learning how to survive, with all that chaos. People were dead, more were missing...nobody noticed a few more disappearing here and there.”

“Is that why Max and, uh...Vlad were there?” Vera asked.

“I imagine.” Dwayne shrugged. “We resisted at first. David was especially pissed off.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Vera laughed quietly.

“But...we took to the lifestyle pretty quickly.”

“And that’s that?” Vera asked.

“That’s that.” he shrugged. “Max wants to be a father figure. He turned David because he wanted a son, and he taught him everything he knew. Then, he decided David needed companions, and he happened to find me not long after. Then the others. Max isn’t a bad guy, Vera. You’ll see.”

“That’s what everybody says about their own sire.” she said, looking out at the black waves as they crashed against the sand just a few feet in front of her. “Everyone wants to talk their sires up, because without them, we’re nothing. Just because your own sire is nice to you doesn’t mean he’ll be nice to me.”

“What’s so bad about your own that you think ours is so awful?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, Vera’s mouth pressing into a thin line. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Dwayne opened his eyes, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head affectionately.

“I’m not.”

“I know that you are, though.”

Vera let out a frustrated noise, then heaved a sigh. Maybe talking about this could be good for her. Maybe verbalizing thoughts and fears that she’d been living with for centuries could finally help her get over them...and if anyone was a good listener, it would be Dwayne.

“Okay, fine.” she said. “What’s so bad about my sire? Everything. Everything is what’s bad about him, literally.”

“Where’s he from?” Dwayne asked.

“The old country. Like...the old old country.”

“Why are you so reluctant to talk about him?” Dwayne’s voice was low and gentle, barely audible over the sound of the waves.

“Because he’s got a reputation.” she fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “Most older vampires know of him. You guys might not, and if we had a different situation, I’d say it should stay that way.”

“That serious, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Hmm.” Dwayne’s chest rumbled. “The others should hear about this, too.”

“Yeah, they should.” she sighed again, her voice small. She felt small in general, all curled up in Dwayne’s lap like that. Small and helpless. She wasn’t, though, and she didn’t want them to think that she was. So she cleared her throat, trying to muster as much confidence as she could, ignoring the mild twisting in her gut. “I’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow night.”

Dwayne made a small, impatient sound.

“Max will want to hear, too.”

“That’s a good point,” he admitted. “You know, I still need to hunt for you…”

Vera perked up slightly. The thought of food made the tight feeling in her chest loosen up slightly, and she looked at Dwayne eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her as he stood and set her back on her feet. “Then let’s go find some snacks, Princess.”

-0-

“You know, we don’t have to do this. We could just go back to the cave--”

“What happened to that tough attitude you had a few days ago?” David raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he pulled Vera off the back of his bike.

“I’m still tough,” she growled, knowing that he could very easily feel how nervous she was.

“Come on, babe,” Paul parked his bike next to David’s and bounded over to her. “You’ll be fine.”

“We’d never let anything happen to ya,” Marko said, following Paul.

Vera knew he was telling the truth, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She had barely slept the entire day, waking up restless and on edge as soon as the sun disappeared, and it had taken a good deal of coaxing from David to even get her to leave the roost. They took Star and Laddie to the boardwalk, dropped them off with some cash, and then headed off to Max’s house.

David told Vera along the way that Star and Laddie weren’t allowed to know where Max lived. They really weren’t allowed to know anything about him in general, in order to protect him, so when the pack walked up to the front gate of their sire’s home, it was only the four boys who accompanied Vera. She didn’t mind; having Star around would have only put her more on edge, probably, and she had been glad to leave the halfling behind.

As she faced the gated bridge that led to Max’s completely normal-looking, Californian home, Vera did everything she could to act confident. She squared her shoulders, held her chin up, and pretended that she had nothing to worry about...but the boys could see right through the facade, and as they joined her, they all fell into a little formation. In moments, Vera was surrounded by them, David offering his arm while the others stepped into their spots behind. It made her feel better, knowing that they were all there to protect her...but at the same time, she still wished they were all out wandering the boardwalk.

“So brave,” David sneered as she took his arm.

“Shut up.” she growled, vaguely aware of Dwayne’s hand on her lower back.

“Relax,” Marko purred.

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax, Marko, I swear—“

The barking of a rapidly approaching dog interrupted her, the sound of paws thumping rhythmically against the wooden walkway drawing her attention away from the boys. A big white hellhound was barreling towards the gate, all teeth and rage, and although it looked like it wanted to tear her limbs off, the sight of such a beast made Vera temporarily forget why she was so anxious. Even as it barked and snarled and threw itself against the gate, she thought that it was absolutely adorable.

“Oh, look at you!” She squealed as the boys all jumped back. When she took a step forward, David tried to yank her towards him, but she slipped away easily, too focused on this hellhound to care.

“You’re such a big handsome boy,” she said, in a voice that made Paul jealous.

“No fair,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Why’s the dumb dog get all that?”

Marko glanced at the taller blond nervously. “Don’t call him dumb, you remember what happened last time?”

Paul groaned, rolling his eyes at the memory of nearly losing a hand.

The dog stopped barking as Vera approached, falling silent as it sniffed the air around her. The vicious look on its face was gone, replaced by curiosity, and when Vera ignored David’s irritated warnings and reached over the gate to pet it, the animal whined.

“You must be Thorn,” Vera cooed, scratching behind its ears. “What a big, brave, hell-y hellhound you are, yes you are!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Paul said as he watched.

“What?” Vera asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Thorn doesn’t like any of us.” Marko huffed. “Why’s he like you so much?”

“Well...he can probably smell my sire on me,” Vera said. “Might remind him of home. Hellhounds usually like me because of that.”

“...Home?” Paul asked.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“But I wanna know now!” he whined.

Thorn growled at him.

“Thorn!” a male voice called from the other end of the little bridge.

Vera immediately stiffened. The front door of the house had opened, and in it stood a man, wearing a very stylish suit and horn rimmed glasses. Thorn heeded his master’s call, giving Paul one last woof before trotting back towards Max. His departure freed the front gate, and David brushed past Vera to open it, taking her hand and leading the gang across the walkway.

“Boys,” Max greeted as they approached him. He offered David a stern smile, one which David didn’t return, and when Max’s eyes fell upon Vera all tucked up against his side, his eyes narrowed slightly. “And you must be Vera.”

She didn’t like that he knew her name. It was inevitable that he’d find out what it was, but still...she kept clinging to the hope that maybe, he wouldn’t learn too much about her. The boys seemed so convinced that Max was just an annoying father, but as Vera took him in, she could see that behind the trendy, 80s-dad facade, there was an old, powerful vampire, and those were the kind she didn’t get along with very well.

“Well, come in, everyone, before dinner gets cold. I made sure to get all your favorites, boys.” Max stepped to the side, inviting them over the threshold in a very courteous way, one that suggested he had nothing to fear from the boys or Vera.

“You shouldn’t have,” David sneered sarcastically as he walked in.

“Would it kill you to be nice?” Vera hissed.

He rolled his eyes.

Max noticed the exchange with a bemused expression on his face. “Go on in and sit down. The table’s already set.”

The house was nice. It wasn’t incredibly extravagant, by any means, but it was perfectly well decorated, modern art that Vera didn’t quite know how to appreciate hanging on the walls. Everything was clean and organized, not a speck of dust in sight, as opposed to the state of decay the boys kept their lair in. Max seemed to enjoy playing the role of a video store owner, and his home reflected that; if anyone came to visit, they wouldn’t see a single item out of place, nor would they have any reason to be suspicious of him. There were no torture devices, no loose vials of blood sitting around, no skulls or human skin nailed up. It looked so...normal.

Vera almost stopped to wonder why exactly she was so nervous...and then she heard the whimpering.

“Geez, Max,” Paul remarked as they rounded the corner and entered the dining room, “you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, fresh caught is always the best,” Max said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hell yeah,” Marko growled, lips pulled back in a grin.

The dining room table was covered in an array of meats, from a suckling pig in the center to a rack of ribs at the end. Six chairs surrounded the feast, plates and cutlery set out at each spot, with big glass goblets already half full of blood ready and waiting. Next to each chair stood a human, frozen due to both fear and Max’s vampire magic, a couple of them shaking and considerably more conscious than the others.

Max walked to his place at the head of the table, Thorn at his side as he took his seat. David sat at the far end, facing him, his eyes dark and hungry as he held himself back. Dwayne sat at David’s left side, Vera at his right, while Paul and Marko took the remaining two chairs and tried not to completely lose their minds. They were shaking almost as much as the humans were, Paul looking at his blood donor eagerly while Marko held a little sneer on his face that suggested he was about ten seconds from ripping his apart.

“Dig in, everyone,” Max said, taking his cloth napkin and tucking it into his shirt collar. “But please try not to make a mess. There’s more than enough here for each of you.”

David immediately grabbed the arm of his meal, sinking his fangs in and taking a drink while Max preferred to drain his into the goblet he had set out for himself. Vera could only watch, stunned, as the carnage began, and before long, she was joining in. The human Max had caught for her was a middle aged clergyman, and she had to tear through his holy sleeve to get to his flesh.

She didn’t mind, though; she very rarely ever got to eat members of the clergy. They were generally too much work to hunt down, and since she had an aversion to churches, well...like most vampires, she tended to leave them alone. It was hard to nab them without making a spectacle and letting the entire town know that something was amiss. So, all things considered, a little bit of extra work involving a mouthful of fabric was worth it. This was like a special treat for her, and she couldn’t help but drain him all in one go, still holding on even after he had collapsed in a bloodless heap on the floor.

When she looked up, she realized that Max was watching her.

“So,” he said, speaking over the hellish sounds of the others slurping up their meals, “I believe some congratulations are in order. Welcome to the family, Vera.”

She swallowed her last mouthful of blood and looked at him. “Uh...thanks. I-I mean, thank you.”

Max picked up his silverware, cutting a slice of ham for himself. “Where are you from, Vera?”

“I wander,” she said, following suit and stabbing her fork into a raw steak.

“I’ve surmised that much,” Max chuckled good-naturedly. “I meant where are you from originally.”

“...oh.” She cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly. “Italy.”

“Italy!” Max exclaimed. “Such a lovely region. I haven’t visited The Mediterranean since I left the old country myself. If I didn’t have the shop here, perhaps I’d take a trip...have you been back recently?”

“No,” she crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to act like she wasn’t fidgeting. She took a bite of her steak, focusing on the blood as it trickled down her throat.

Max reached for his goblet, raising the blood to his lips and taking a drink. “And your sire, is he still in Europe?”

Vera almost choked on her food.

By this point, the boys were all watching. Paul was licking blood off his lips while Marko still had his dinner’s forearm in his mouth, but David and Dwayne were both focused solely on the conversation at hand, their eyes narrowed slightly as they listened.

When she realized that everyone was waiting, Vera coughed into her fist, clearing her throat. “Y-yes, he is.”

Max’s eyes darkened, despite the smile on his face. “You know you need to tell me about him, Vera.”

“There’s not much to tell,” she lied, turning back to her steak. “Just an ancient vampire, out there in the old country. Not very exciting.”

“Exciting or not, I’d still prefer to know who he is.” Max said.

She shrugged, reaching for her glass to take a nervous drink. “I doubt you’d know him.”

“When you drink that blood, you’ll be joining our family.”

She froze, hand on the stem of the glass.

“I’m sure your sire will be able to feel it. I’d hate to be rude and not even know his name in the event he visits one day.”

Vera stared at the blood—Max’s blood—as her fingers tightened around the stem. “You don’t want him to visit.”

“Oh?” Max asked, appearing as relaxed as ever. “Why not?”

“Because of who he is.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And what he can do.”

Dwayne and David glanced at each other.

When Max spoke again, his voice was softer, gentler than before. “What is your sire’s name, Vera?”

With a great deal of effort, she opened her eyes again, still staring into the blood rather than at any of them.

“Asmodeus.” She said. “My sire is Asmodeus.”

#GODDAMN SHIT SUCKING VAMPIRES #the lost boys #poly lost boys #dwayne lost boys #paul lost boys #david lost boys #marko lost boys #the lost boys x oc #the lost boys x reader #david x oc #dwayne x oc #paul x oc #marko x oc #david x reader #dwayne x reader #paul x reader #marko x reader

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

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~ Self-shipping ask game: Dracika🦇🩸 // Ashika🪓💙 ~

I asked @mutatedcrocuta for permission to use her self-ship questions and she very graciously agreed! Thank youuuu ~ 💜💜💜

Overall word count: 7, 664.

Dracula x Erika (Dracika) 🖤🩸🖤

Word count: 3, 179.

Date you got together? We met in September but we didn’t get together until November 14th 2020. I was scared of him until the middle of October and then it took some more time after that for me to work out what I wanted between the two of us. Dracula somehow knew what was going to happen and whenever I asked him to tell me, he would just smirk at me. He never said anything and he waited for me to make my own decisions on everything. Once I realised what I wanted, neither of us really... announced the relationship. It was just a... shall we try this? vibe which we both agreed to and we have yet to change our minds!

Favourite personality trait? His courage. My sweet vampire was terrified for 500 years about something which was never a threat to him in the first place. He spent all that time alone and afraid for no reason because he was always too afraid to test the things he thought he knew. I really admire his bravery, and as someone who’s scared of something very similar, I find that I can be just a little braver in my own fear, knowing that Dracula understands me on that basic level. Our fear brought us together and through that, we found love. He’s afraid of the light and I’m afraid of the dark and I don’t know about you, but that says “soulmates” to me!🥰💗

Favourite physical trait? Ohhhhh.... his eyes. His beautiful eyes which are so dark they’re like black coffee. Onyx, perhaps. They can be so soft when he’s talking to someone or they can be cold and calculating. When he smiles, they melt into pools of warm chocolate and I similarly melt when I look into his eyes. I also love that damned smirk. When he knows he’s five steps ahead of everyone in the room or when he suspects something which later turns out to be true... his smirk makes me feel weak in the knees even when I’m sitting down.

Couple song We don’t have a couple song. There’s not really... anything out there which I’ve found to resonate with the both of us. Like A Vampire by Catrien Maxwell is one I listen to when I want his attention, though, and it works like a charm! “So how does a vampire love, Erika?” was what Dracula said the first time I played it around him. I said, “I don’t know... why don’t you show me?” and... I’ll let his display be up to your imagination.😉

Pet peeves... Mine is when he feeds off someone. And leaves them to bleed out. On the floor. Like??? I just cleaned the carpet out from the last person who bled all over the floor. It’s irritating. Just like when he then flashes me that smirk and he’s got blood all over his chin, lips and lower part of his face like??? That’s your food, close your damn mouth. Are you five hundred or just five? 😂 I find it funny but also annoying; depends on my mood. Will I clean his face off, though, and leave a tender kiss on the tip of his nose? Oh, yeah! My vampire deserves love.🥺

Dracula’s is how jumpy I am. It irritates him to no end. He has long since stopped saying, “sorry, didn’t mean to startle you” and now I tend to get either an eye roll, a patient smirk or a, “you knew I was there, Erika”. It depends on his mood, but the one time he genuinely made me scared and it upset me, he was quick to apologise to me and he learned very quickly how to avoid doing that in the future. We’ve had to learn many a thing from each other in a short amount of time for things between us to be able to work.

Favourite outfit on them?

Picture source

He just looks... so warm and inviting but also so dangerous. There’s an obvious wall between himself and everyone else and I love the way he carries himself! It makes me want to sit on his lap, curl up and go to sleep asdfghjk🥺 and that hair.... the urge to mess it up is strong skkssk😂 I value my life, though, so I won’t... yet.😏 Dracula’s appearance is just so safe to me and he makes me smile just to see him, no matter what he’s wearing.

Favourite meal? Blood, obviously. Dracula has never drank from me. I’ve said he can many a time but “No. Not that. Not to you. You’re... too special a flavour, Erika. I wouldn’t dare to sample it. You’re exquisite.” is all I get every time I offer myself up to him. Maybe one day he’ll agree but for now, he’s more than happy to continue feeding off others. He’s careful with what he eats. I’m not, though, which may be why he won’t feed off me.😂

Early bird or night owl? Dracula’s nocturnal so our days and nights are reversed. As I get into bed, my darling vampire is just waking up. This means that I get goodnight cuddles and he gets good morning cuddles at the same time! It works well for us both and if I’m very lucky (or just really clingy or upset), he’ll stay with me for a little longer and eat into his day! He says “I love you” in his own ways and I’ve learned to hear them.

Snorer or sleep talker? Dracula doesn’t do either of these. If I get into bed too roughly and jostle him, he’ll hiss in his sleep but that’s about it. Me, on the other hand? Certified chainsaw snorer!😂

Do you have any pets together? We don’t! Dracula feeds off animals when there’s no humans around and my worst fear is coming downstairs in the morning to find that he’s fed on my animals in the night because his baser instincts took over and he couldn’t stop himself. I would never forgive him or myself if that happened, so no pets!

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

I call him: Drac, Draccy, Draccy boi (he hates this one so I only do it when I’m deliberately trying to wind him up because those fangs, I - 🥵), my Drac, my vampire, my sweet vampire... my love, honey, Dracula if He’s In Trouble!

He calls me: luna bella (beautiful moon), my dear, my love, Erika if I’m In Trouble. Dracula’s not really one for pet names. He says what he says and that’s it.

How often do you fight? Never. We don’t ever fight. If there’s ever a line I’m about to cross, he will say my name very calmly and very quietly and the chill which runs up my spine is enough to keep me from crossing that line. With Dracula, he knows that if I ignore him, he’s close to crossing a line. We have warnings for each other, and that’s it. No fights. I can’t handle it and Dracula’s too old for that.

What starts fights? We don’t fight as I said, but those lines... for Dracula, those lines are insisting he drinks from me and refusing to back down on it (I did it once, in the early days, before I understood who he was properly), or when I won’t take care of myself in the way he thinks I should be. It’ll get me full-named with his chin dipped so that the shadows around him emphasise the lines of his face, and I’ll shiver and I’ll know I’m in trouble... so I’ll rectify it in the ways I know he wants me to, and then a hand will be laid on my shoulder so I know all’s forgiven. All it takes is my name spoken in a certain tone and he’s got me in the palm of his hand. But I’m safe, even then.

For me, I don’t have many lines at all but one of them is when I come home in the middle of the day or when I wake up and just walking through the house and then I trip over a body. Like, for fuck’s sake, Drac, do your dishes.😂 I don’t make a big deal out of it usually but once there were five or six bodies in one room because he’d gorged himself and I got pissed off because they were in my way and obviously I couldn’t get rid of them myself. So when he greeted me that morning I said nothing to him and I continued to say nothing until he’d gotten rid of his victims. He never sees what the big deal is, but I do.

We may not fight but we definitely have our differences!

Who apologizes first? We each apologise when we need to. If Drac crossed a line, he’ll apologise first. If I crossed a line, I’ll apologise first. It depends on who was in the wrong. Sometimes Dracula will give me a certain look and I’ll just instinctively say ‘sorry’. He doesn’t necessarily understand these moments, though, and he’ll ask me why I apologised and I’ll just say that I felt like I needed to because of the look he gave me. Dracula will frown but then he’ll crook a finger at me and I’ll be brought in for a hug. “You silly little thing. You never have to apologise to me. Not for anything. Do you understand?” and I try. I really do try.

Big spoon or little spoon? Dracula’s always the big spoon. If his back is to the door when I come to bed (he’s just waking up), then he will turn so that he’s spooning me because I sleep facing the door so I can see the room around me. Even with my lamp, I’m still wary and scared. I tried to have Drac as the little spoon once and within minutes we switched positions because he couldn’t stop chuckling at the seven inch height difference. I just... get to melt into him and he protects me. No harm will come to me when Dracula’s there and he loves the way he can fold me into him and keep me safe.

Dom or sub? Dracula’s the dom, definitely. The power he has is obvious and we’ll never truly be equal, not really... I mean, he’s five hundred years old and I’m twenty-three... I’ve been alive for the blink of an eye compared to his lengthy existence. I am definitely my own person and I have my own life but there’s an equality imbalance which we’re both aware of. He never plays on it, though. I trust him to not ever do that to me, and Dracula respects me too much for that. Other people are fair game in his eyes, but me? I’m his so that means I’m always under his protection.

What are their kisses like? “The kiss of a vampire is an opiate” as Drac states in episode two. So he can take me anywhere with just one kiss. He can make me feel sleepy, awake, aroused, in control... scared... He can make me feel anything when he kiss and most times he makes me feel relaxed, safe and he makes me feel his love for me. If I have trouble sleeping or if I’ve had a nightmare, he’ll kiss me and the next thing I know it’s morning and I slept solidly. During the times I doubt our relationship, he will kiss me and I feel all of his love for me. His kisses are fire but it’s... like basking in the sunlight. It’s passion, it’s love, it’s security... he kisses me like I’m the only one for him, like I’m the only one who’s ever gotten so close to him. He kisses me like he’ll die if he doesn’t and yet he’s in control the entire time. Whenever he pulls away from me, there’s a smirk on his face and the hands on my waist aren’t just to keep me close, but to hold me up, too... on some occasions he’s had to scoop me up to sit me down somewhere because I’ve gotten lost in the state he put me in.

What do they smell like? Ohhh... he smells like... Dracula. That’s so cliché, but his name is as good a descriptor as any. He smells like cedarwood, like spiced pear and there’s a metallic tang about him... blood. He smells dark and foreboding, but also safe. I would know his scent anywhere. Sometimes when I’m off doing my own thing during the day, I suddenly catch a scent on the wind and I know he’s with me.

What are their hugs like? To begin with, I hugged Dracula. I was never held back. I never received one from him. If I wanted one, I had to start it and I would have to finish it, too. He would just stand there and endure it. But then one day I dropped a knife and it landed on my foot and somehow I avoided stabbing myself. I wasn’t injured but Dracula scooped me up and carried me away from the knife... but he didn’t put me down right away. He stood there and he held me in his arms like I was precious cargo (I was, I know now), and when he set me down, he said that he liked “this thing you mortals call a hug” and now when he hugs me it’s with everything he has in that moment. He almost folds himself in half and his scent becomes all I can smell. He doesn’t breathe and he’s got no heartbeat so it’s quiet and it’s still and it’s warm... most often I become sleepy when he hugs me because I just relax. It’s like magic.

Who is more protective? We protect each other. In the day time, I protect him and in the night time, he protects me. We fear opposite ends of the same thing and there’s a lot of understanding and compassion in that. We’re equally protective of each other. In the day, I keep curtains closed especially if it’s sunny outside, I make sure that Dracula has places he can go and I make sure that he has food if he needs it. If anyone dares to disturb his peace within our home, I will step in. Curtains stay shut. Rooms are safe. And then at night... lights are turned on. Shadows are eliminated and Dracula stays close by. We give a part of our days to each other and in this way do we stay close to one emotionally. In our fears are we equal and through this, we found love.

Interested in children? To Dracula, “talk of children sounds like a miracle” but I would rather eat my own foot, toenails included, than have kids and he knows it.

Who needs the most TLC when sick? If either of us gets sick, then the other person gives them every amount of care which we can. Dracula only gets sick if he consumes blood which isn’t good; if someone’s dying or if they’re sick, then he gets sick. It’s very rare but he’ll expel it from his body all at once and then collapse. I clean his face, get him somewhere he can rest, and i stay by his side until he wakes up hours later. I hate it when he gets ill and thankfully it’s very rare because of how carefully he picks his food. When I get sick, which is also rare because, despite having an autoimmune disease I have a very strong immune system (yeah, I can’t work that out either), Dracula’s almost overbearing. He gets me everything I need and he is everything I need until I get better and he stays by my side through it all. Dracula and I do everything we can for each other at all times. It’s a part of our love language.

Who says ‘I love you’ first? This was also me. Dracula knew the entire time, from the day we met, what would happen between us, but he never said anything. He just... he waited. He waited for my nightmares to stop, he waited for me to approach him with increasing frequency, he waited for me to be brave enough to approach him... Dracula waited. About two months after we first met, I realised that I loved him. I invited him into my bed for the first time that night and I asked him to cuddle with me and he chuckled at me. He came into my bed, “well, this is a surprise.” and I grinned because... just wait ‘til I said what I wanted to say. So I did... I told him. He froze and then his entire body relaxed. He said, “finally.” and that was that.

Which of you is more accident prone? Definitely me!!!! I have a shitty centre of balance and honestly a lack of self-preservation so I’m constantly bumping into tables, walking into doors, tripping up or down the stairs... Dracula usually just laughs or smirks or otherwise ignores me because he’s so used to it but very occasionally I’ll actually do something which may well hurt me, and he will catch me with a shake of his head. “Careful, Erika. I won’t always be around to catch you, hm?” He’s lying. He will be.

Bed hog? Also me! Dracula tends to just lay on his back with his arms by his sides and if there’s not enough room for me beside him, I will lay on top of him and he won’t be able to move me. I sleep like the dead and I wake like them, too. As I go to bed, he’s just waking up so he usually ends up getting up later than he planned to because he had to coax himself out from underneath me.😂 I don’t make it easy on him, and why should I? I want my cuddles and I’ll get them whether he likes it or not. He does, though, he loves the way I love him, and he just pretends he doesn’t because he doesn’t like to admit his own heart. But I can sense it - his love language is a loud one and I quickly became proficient in speaking it.

Who loves the other the most? Me. Without a doubt, I love Dracula far more than he could ever love me. I’ve never been able to work out why he’s with me but I suppose it’s because we’re safe and understood in our fears by the other person and we’re teaching each other to be brave. He is capable of love, I know he is, but I think Dracula’s beyond that. When he loves, it’s beyond description or any kind of labels mortals could come up with. He’s fond of me, incredibly so, and I think that’s as far as it goes. That’s okay, though! It means the world to even know him.

Ash Williams x Erika (Ashika)🪓💙

I’ve used a GIF of young!Ash (mid-twenties) and then a GIF of Ash in 2015 (57-ish) because Bruce Campbell’s aged like a fine wine and omgggg ~ 🥵🥵 I just love him (Ash and Bruce lmao)🧡.

Word count: 4, 485.

Date you got together? Ash is my newest F/O even though I’ve known him since I was about eleven. We got together on the 10th December 2020. I was watching season two of the TV series and it just slammed into me how badly I wanted to protect him and how much I wanted to love him and give him the life he should have had. I asked Ash “how about it?” and he quirked an eyebrow and said, “let’s go”.🥰💗 I’ve known him for such a long time and I’ve always thought that there was more to him than I was able to understand when I was so young but I’m in a place now where I’m able to better understand him and I’m excited to dive into him and see where we go! I wish I could be with Ash for his whole life; from when he first goes to the cabin, helping him with the trauma after, then everything in the next thirty years and beyond. I love my Ashy🥺💖

Favourite personality trait? I looooooove ~ Ash’s “shoot first think never” motto. It’s his entire mentality and it means to just do it, to be in the moment. It’s also a literal motto, as in to shoot Deadites without thinking about it, but I appreciate the deeper meaning of it, too. I also love his courage and his bravery. He never wanted to be a Deadite killer, he never wanted to have to fight them for the rest of his life, but he does it and it’s honestly the only thing he’s good at. He’s shit at everything except fighting evil and he gives it his all and I love that about him. Ash really inspires me in a lot of ways. He thinks that’s ridiculous but that’s his tough-guy exterior. I know that he’s touched and just doesn’t know how to say it. So he’ll show me, instead, and if I’m not paying attention then I’ll miss it. he has a quiet and subtle love language and I’m quickly learning to speak it.

Favourite physical trait? Can I just say his everything??? I love everything about Ash🥺🥺🥺🥺 I do have a soft spot for his chainsaw hand, though. The noise it makes when he fires it up makes me smile; it’s so familiar to me. I like to kiss the stump of his hand when it’s just the two of us in his trailer; he went through literal hell and the strength it must have taken, physically and otherwise, to saw off his own hand is just... I could never be that brave. I try to be as gentle with him as I can be and I like to love on the parts of him no one else sees because I’m the only one to see them. There’s nothing about Ash I don’t love. Keep this last sentence in mind when you read the pet peeves section!

Couple song Back In Black by ACϟDC ... he plays this song in the Delta and we jam out together. It’s a light-hearted and simple moment between the two of us and let’s be fair, nothing hits like 70/80s metal. He and I don’t really have a set song, we just... listen to whatever’s in his player and make light-hearted memories from that which will get us through the worst of everything. Sometimes I’ll just ask Ash to sing with no music playing. He’s tone deaf but the sound of his voice alone is more melodious and comforting to me than the songs he likes to play.

Pet peeves...

Mine is that, honestly, Ash is kind of gross and I say that with so much love. He leaves his beer cans everywhere, he leaves his recreational baggies of drugs everywhere and there’s some questionably crusty socks on our floor which I am not picking up no matter how many times he waggles his eyebrows at me. He leaves dishes to pile high up in the sink and then asks me to do them for him “as a favour” while he’s at work (even though I have my own things to do🙄). He’s stuck in the 80s as far as his attitudes go and that does irritate me. He knows it and he thinks it’s hot when I get riled up... I’m 99% sure he says this stuff just to annoy me. I’ll do the dishes no matter what I say in the moment and he knows it. I can’t stand having food left out, especially in summer, and I have a phobia of sickness as well as health anxieties so whenever Ash comes home and I’ve already cleaned the kitchen part of the trailer, made our bed (and left those socks on the floor, thank you. I have limits to what I’ll do), fed Eli and now I’m at the kitchen table studying or writing, Ash makes sure to say thank you. He feels bad about it because we both know he would have done the dishes if I hadn’t, but I have a guilt complex on top of my fears and if someone asks me to do something I’ll do it even if I don’t want to because I feel bad for saying no.

“Ah, Erika, you didn’t have to do that, I was gonna do ‘em later on.”

“It’s fine, Ash, they’re done now.”

Ash will kiss the top of my head and then he’ll come and sit beside me, keeping me company while I do whatever I’m doing. I’ll get up automatically and crack him open a beer and I can see that Ash feels bad about the comments he made before he went to work, but he also knows that I would have gotten him a beer anyway. I want to take care of him and he’s been at work all day. In return, Ash will get up and make me a coffee even though I was also about to do that.

“Ash, you don’t need to - “

He’ll just give me a Look while he leans against the counter waiting for the kettle and I understand it’s his apology for what he said this morning (it’ll happen again tomorrow but that’s okay). Ash knows I really don’t mind doing the dishes, and I know that Ash never means for things to come across the way they can. The way I react to them is on me, not Ash. We do things for each other, it’s a part of our love language, and even though sometimes miscommunications like the above can happen, we still carry on with them because my traumas are mine and Ash’s are his and we work through them together.

Ash’s pet peeve is the way I put him before myself all the time. Sometimes he’ll come home and I’ve got a beer can ready in the fridge, dinner’s nearly done (he works late most days), the immediate chores are done and Ash will come in and I’m stressed out from all the work I’ve got to do because I took my time on stuff I did for him and left myself short. I say it’s fine but it’s not and we both know it. Ash will call me out every single time.

“For god’s sake, Erika, you knew you had to do ___ today, why did’ya focus on me?” He genuinely doesn’t understand why I love him so much and it breaks my heart every single time. He’s had such a horrible life and I just want to soften those edges as best as I can and give him something else to fight for. Ash will sigh, crack open the beer, and then when dinner’s done, he does the dishes while I catch up on my work and even though he doesn’t understand any of what I’m doing, he’ll stay beside me and keep an arm around my shoulders or my waist and make his gratitude, appreciation and concern known.

Favourite outfit on them? His blue shirt/brown trousers combo. It’s the only thing he wears in the franchise and I adore it. I often ‘borrow’ (steal) his shirts to sleep in or otherwise relax in (I’m a baggy shirt and panties only girl) and Ash thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s 6′1 and I’m 5′7 so his shirts swim on me and I love that. So does Ash and it’s the quickest way to get him to... pay attention to me.😂

Favourite meal? Ash will eat anything. Usually tacos - he’d eat them every day of the week if I let him. With me having a wheat and gluten allergy and Ash not having any food allergies at all, the lucky bastard, it can be difficult but I always make Ash’s food first if it contains anything with wheat in it, and then I scrub the kitchen down and make my own. Ash says I should just make mine first and “I can worry about my own damn food”, but I consider that to be rude of me so I always do Ash’s first. It plays into the pet peeve thing and Ash is learning to just...let it go.

Early bird or night owl? Poor Ash has been through so much trauma in his life that he suffers from PTSD and nightmares. He usually just gets high or blackout drunk (or both, on a really bad night) so that he can grab a few hours of sleep before his own screaming wakes him up. He sleeps when he can and usually just runs on naps around his shifts at S-Mart. He’s up all hours of the day and night and he just sleeps when he can. Ash isn’t an early bird or a night owl... he’s a permanently exhausted pigeon 😂 I’m a night owl, though, and most nights I’ll stay up with Ash for as long as I possibly can. Sometimes I fall asleep in his lap because I’m so tired and I’ll wake up a few hours later and Ash has draped his upper body over me so that I’m caged in and protected while he rests. That hurts his back, though, so I massage it for him when he wakes up because I really don’t wanna wake him up when he’s asleep unless I have to. When I do have to, it’s with lots of guilt and apologies because he sleeps so little as it is. If I could give Ash anything, it’d be the ability to truly sleep with ease. He deserves that at the very least.

Snorer or sleep talker? Ash is a sleep talker. He usually says stuff like, “no, come back”, “I didn’t mean to”, “please, come back - “ after a nightmare it’s usually with a scream or with the name of someone he’s lost on his lips and it’ll wake me up and I’ll do my best to soothe him. I’m a snorer, though. Ash did once rip his chainsaw to life while I was asleep because he was repairing the trailer outside and not only did I stay asleep (I sleep like the dead), but also he could hear me over his chainsaw. So I’m known as the Chainsaw Snorer and when he introduces me to people... that’s the name he uses.😂 Charming, isn’t he? In Elk Grove, Michigan, he’s known (horribly) as Ashy Slashy and it sounds quite fitting with Chainsaw Snorer...I’m not saying we’re meant for each other, buuuut ~ 🥺

Do you have any pets together? I help Ash out with his lizard, Eli, sometimes, but other than that; no pets! There’s not really room for them in the trailer and I have my hands full with Ash anyway.😂

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them)

Ash calls me anything - honey bunny (flirting), sweetcheeks (casual), hot piece of ass (that one gets him glared at and he’ll look away because he knows I don’t like being objectified. He’s only teasing but I still don’t like it), sweetheart (comfort), my delicious cookie (when he’s trying to wriggle out of doing the dishes. It makes us both cringe so I don’t know why he uses it), baby (comfort). My name is only used when he’s needing me or it’s Serious. It’s the quickest way to get my attention.

I don’t call Ash much - Ashy (comfort for either of us, depending on who needs it or when I miss him or when I’m super sleepy and therefore I have no filter). I’m unsure how he feels about Ashy because of how he’s known in his hometown but that’s why I call him “Ashy” - I took a name of fear and hate and turned it to love. He deserves that. Honey (casual), my love (casual), jefe (when we’re around Kelly and/or Pablo). I only call him Ashley (his full name) when I need him or it’s Serious. It’s the quickest way to get his attention.

How often do you fight? Rarely, if ever. Ash is very casual and chilled out about lots of things and he’ll just wave things off (though he’s quick to call out bullshit), and I can’t handle conflict of any kind at all. If tension is around, Ash will either go to work, the bar, or maybe even go for a drive in the Delta to give us both some space and I’ll shut myself in the bedroom and do some work. The trailer’s quite small so that can only add to the tension so most often we just go our separate ways until we’re calm enough to talk about anything which lingers.

What starts fights? Not much. Tension usually arises after an encounter with some Deadites. If Ash got injured, then he needs to sit his ass down and let me tend to those injuries. I can be quite firm when I need to be, especially if I’m worried. Ash doesn’t get what the big deal is, he came home, didn’t he? But I’m so scared of losing him that that can show itself in anger even when I’m relieved that he’s home. It’s the same with Ash - he’s so scared of losing me. Literally everyone he’s ever loved has died right in front of him and he is terrified of losing me. I can and I will throw myself in his way so that I take a hit meant for Ash and nothing pisses him off faster. Both of us know that anger often hides pain, it’s a secondary emotion, so when this happens, we just... we patch each other up, we cuddle and we apologise and we comfort each other and the anger quickly dissipates into what it actually is: tender love and fear of losing each other. Once the anger’s out of the way, we can get to the “good stuff”, as Ash puts it.

Who apologizes first? It depends on who messed up. It’s usually Ash, let’s be fair; he’s shit at everything except fighting Deadites and he’d be the first to tell you that. Most people’s apologies are followed by a “I won’t do it again” but this is Ash... he will do it again so apologies are almost redundant. Even so, he’ll say he’s sorry and then he’ll make up for it... letting me hold Eli or cuddling me while we watch some crappy TV together... Once, I messed up hugely by getting myself severely injured after a Deadite encounter and I bought Ash a new TV with all the premium channels - something he once asked a demon for. I also apologised with words and Ash was more than willing to forget it all! He did, however, finally teach me how to use weapons after that point and the both of us worked to help each other out a bit more.

Big spoon or little spoon? Ash’s tough guy exterior demands that he is the big spoon but he doesn’t actually like being the big spoon unless he can take the position into NSFW territory (he calls it “getting down to business”). He usually just wiggles against me, as if he can’t get comfortable, until I get the hint and turn around so that he is the little spoon... and then he melts. He buries his face either in the crook of my neck or my chest (he’s after my heartbeat) and I’ll stroke his hair and if we’re very lucky... Ash will actually go to sleep. Ash is always the little spoon; them’s the rules! If I need comforting or if I can’t sleep etc. then Ash will be the big spoon, but mostly he prefers to be the little one. I love the way I can then literally watch over him and protect him, though, so it works out well for us both!

Dom or sub? Ash and I typically assume whatever role we need to. Sometimes Ash is more in control and sometimes I am. We usually feed off the other person to work out what they need. On the days we both need comfort, then we switch and take care of each other in order to take care of ourselves. We live for each other🥺💗 Generally speaking, Ash is the dom, if only because he’s literally double my age and that’s just the dynamic we fell into.

What are their kisses like? Ash kisses me like it’s the first and the last time he’s ever going to get to kiss me. Any moment he could die, at any moment there could be a Deadite, any moment could something take me away from him and he truly fears losing the people he loves because that’s all he’s ever known. I always know when my Ashy is going to kiss me because he’ll get this... darker look in his eyes and he’ll grab me either by my waist or my shoulders and I’ll get tugged into him. He almost slams his lips into mine and then it softens into tenderness and reverence. His kisses are either slow and he takes his time or they’re fast and rushed because shit, he’s late for work but he can’t pull himself away... No matter where his hands start, they will finish on my face as he holds me to him. I am always left feeling dazed. No one kisses me like Ash.

What do they smell like? In the show Ash wears Pinaud Clubman, which is described as

It makes me feel so safe, though the metallic tang of blood which is practically soaked into Ash’s clothes, even when they’re clean, almost ruins that sense of familiarity and safety. Almost. If Ash is at work or if he’s out with Kelly and Pablo, then I might use some of it and ‘borrow’ one of his shirts just to feel him near me. I’m not saying I’m clingy, but... I do need to have some part of Ash with me during those long periods he’s not there, just to comfort myself and keep me focused on what I’m doing. I also have my own shirt which I bought which looks like Ash; though I rarely wear that now that I know I could have just... asked Ash for one of his shirts🥺

What are their hugs like? Ash hugs the way he kisses... like it’s the first and last time all at once. I don’t ever have to worry that I’m annoying Ash with how often I want to be hugged or held because he melts every single time. He’s touch starved and in a lot of ways so am I. When Ash and I hug we cease to be Erika and Ash. We just become this... human mesh where limbs and such are entangled and you can’t really tell who’s who. Ash is four inches taller than me so I disappear into him, especially if he rests his head on my shoulder, and we clutch each other like we’ll die if we let go. Ash does sometimes feel that way because his fears come straight up to the surface and I’ll stroke his hair and tell him that I’m there, I’m okay and I’m safe and so is he. Ash’s hugs centre me and they remind me of where I am and what I’m doing and Ash never pulls away first. Even if he hugs me first, he won’t let me go until I step away. Truthfully, we both find it hard to step away and sometimes we can stand there for up to thirty minutes, taking and giving comfort and love in equal measures. With one arm around my shoulders and one around my waist, Ash holds me to him. I always have my arms around his middle and my fingers will be knotted into his blue shirts. When we pull away, the middle of Ash’s shirt will be creased; it makes me miss him all the more. He’s been late to work on many an occasion because we both know that this hug could very well be the last and we want to make it count.

Who is more protective? This depends on the situation.

In general life and if there are Deadites involved, then Ash is the most protective person. To the extent where it’s almost overwhelming. If I go to the bathroom when there’s whispers of Deadites then Ash will literally stand outside the door or, at least, close by, and every thirty seconds or so I’ll hear him asking if I’m all right. I more than understand his concern though so I treat every check-up seriously. It means the world to me to be so important to him.

In Elk’s Grove, Michigan, when there are whispers of Ashy Slashy and of how he went mad and killed all his friends at the cabin back in 1983, I’m the protective one. I can and I will go head to head with people to put them right about my Ash. I don’t like conflict and I avoid confrontation like the plague, but for one of my loved ones??? Hold my coffee. Ash finds it really hot and that tough guy exterior comes out because Ash doesn’t know how else to handle the situation, but then when it’s just he and I back in the trailer or the Delta, his brown eyes soften and my Ash will thank me with a tight hug, whispers of love and a kiss so powerful I forget why he was kissing me in the first place.

Interested in children? Nope. I’d rather eat my own foot and Ash just... doesn’t want to. He does have a daughter, Brandi, from another relationship and I’m friends with her (she’s seventeen by the time he meets her for the first time), but beyond that, kids are a no-go!

Who needs the most TLC when sick? Both Ash and I work through our sicknesses by ourselves and we don’t bring all that much attention to it, but Ash is, as I’ve said, so scared of losing anyone he loves that when I get sick he almost buys out S-Mart’s pharmaceutical section. He’s almost overbearing when I get sick but the joke’s on him because I get my ‘revenge’ when he inevitably gets sick, too - the dumbass still kisses me when I’m ill so as I recover, he’s coming down with it.😂 I love my slasher himbo so much...

Who says ‘I love you’ first? Ash said it first. We were driving in the Delta to go back to the trailer and he had a cut on his cheek. He had taped it up with duct tape but I had some antiseptic wipes in my bag so I was attempting to patch him up on the way home and Ash just said he loved me without taking his eyes off the road. I said it back without even thinking about it and then Ash almost got us into a crash because he took his eyes off the road to stare at me. Luckily the other car honked just in time before Ash had to slam down on the brakes or his injury would have been so much worse. 😂 In day to day life, either of us will say it first and the other always says it back. Any time could be the last time and we’re both painfully aware of that fact, though Ash knows it far more than I do for obvious reasons .I get upset if an “I love you” isn’t returned because it can lead to insecurities and tears and Ash... likes to avoid waterworks because he never knows what to do.

Which of you is more accident prone? Ashhhhh ~ without a doubt! He’s forever coming back to the trailer with cuts, scrapes, bruises...even just at work in the housewares department, if there’s a way for him to injure himself then he’ll do it. Not on purpose, mind, but he’s as much of a klutz as I am and evil follows him wherever he goes. Many a time I’ve patched him up (sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s got an injury because he’s so used to being covered in blood and gore) and then discovered one of my own and Ash has patched me up to return the gesture. I guess you could say we put each other’s broken pieces back together, though of course there’s nothing to be romanticised about falling apart.

Bed hog? I had to think about this one, but considering Ash rarely actually sleeps, I’d say it’s me. I once managed to fall out of a Queen sized bed because I rolled over too far. I’d been lying in the middle and I have yet to work out how I fell out. But I digress. If there’s a way for me to take up all the space in a bed, then I will whether I intend to or not. Ash usually just... climbs over me if he wants to get into bed or if he wants to get out of bed. I sleep and wake like the dead so he won’t wake me unless he actually wants to wake me. If Ash can’t move me then he’ll just lay on top of me and that soothes him to sleep quite quickly... funny how these things work themselves out...😉

Who loves the other the most? I’d say we’re pretty equal in this one, tbh. Ash has lots of fears which stem around losing someone he loves (again) and that can mean that he shows his love for me almost desperately in some ways, and nothing scares me more than my loved ones feel unloved by me, so in that way I’m quite an intense person, too. We both make sure the other person knows they are loved every second we can and that’s probably why we’ll be a couple which lasts through the ages.

#self-shipping #dracika #ashika

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

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Summary: “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: T (possibly M for upcoming chapters)

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for all of your reviews/comments/kudos/etc! You guys are the best! Now, as promised, the next chapter! Alright, poll time! I am considering changing the rating of this story from "T" to "M". But I wanted to hear from you guys first because it did start as a "T". Please let me know in your feedback your thoughts on that! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Until next time, stay safe and healthy! -Jen

Chapter Six

If it hadn't been for the fact that her muscles were rather sore and a few, ugly purple bruises had blossomed against the pale skin of her thighs, Agatha might've thought that perhaps what occurred last night had only been a dream. She laid in her bed, twisted within the white sheets like an insect trapped in a spider's web. As she gazed up at the ceiling, a part of her wished the very roof would collapse and take her out of this world. It'd be better than facing him. Oh how her very blood was boiling.

She forced herself upright, eyes scanning around the room for something-anything to cover her bare body with. Yet again he had destroyed her clothing, a dress he'd in fact gifted her himself. Off to the far side of the room draped neatly over a chair was one of his white shirts. Of course he would. How very gracious of him. Maybe she'd return the favor when she staked him in the heart. Ignoring the aching feeling between her legs, she stood up and walked over, snatching the garment from the chair. She was going to kill him. Really, truly murder him this time.

"You certainly out did yourself this time, Agatha Van Helsing." She muttered to herself as she descended the stairs. "Sleeping with the enemy. How utterly pathetic and dim-witted of you."

As she made her way towards the dining room, bare feet lightly smacking against the cold, stone floor, she was met by quite the sight. The once pristine area now glistened with shards of broken china. She glanced at the floor, now becoming more cognizant as to where she stepped. Against one of the walls was a splintered chair as if someone-Dracula, had kicked it full force in order to get it out of the way. Why he hadn't straightened up afterwards was unclear. The most logical reason she could guess was that he wanted her to see what they'd done.

Her nostrils flared as she scanned the destruction, noticing a reasonably sized piece of wood that had fallen off. Walking over to it, she grabbed it and studied it carefully. With enough force, it would surely make quite the stake. Now she really was going to end him.

In the heat of the moment, Agatha hadn't exactly considered what she'd do after killing Dracula. Storming down the dark, stone hallway, she was already chilled due to how little the Count's shirt covered her. She certainly couldn't make it down to any village before dying from hypothermia. Not that she even had a way to get there. No horse. Not even a decent pair of shoes for walking. His surely wouldn't fit. Damn him to Hell for being so tall in the first place.

Memory served her surprisingly well as she traveled down the chamber and into the dreaded room of boxes. Trying her best to not think about what, or who, still lurked within them, she scanned the area for her target. When her eyes finally fell upon the sleek, wooden coffin, her heart began to pound. Excitement. Anxiety. Fear. Uncertainty. She was going to do this. She was really, truly going to do what her grandfather couldn't. As she stepped forward, one hand gripping the stake, the other reaching for the casket's lid a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Well, a good day to you too, Agatha Van Helsing." Count Dracula stepped from the shadows, his mouth curved into a mocking sneer. "Though, I must say, it is quite rude of you to attempt to kill your host." He strode forward, plucking the stake from her fist before crushing it into splinters. "Especially after the night we had."

"How…" she stumbled, blinking in utter shock. "How are you...aren't you supposed to be asleep?! It's daylight!"

"Well, I was going to attempt to offer you breakfast in bed, but you changed my plans." His eyes flickered up and down, taking in her appearance. "Always a pleasure to see you in my clothes. Though, I've grown quite fond of you without them."

Agatha frowned deeply, expression one of fury. "You foul swine," she hissed. "You tricked me!"

Dracula let out a loud cackle, clearly overly amused by her words. "Tricked you? My dearest nun-well, I don't suppose that title fits after what we did. But you, from what I remember, instigated it! Who was I to deprive you of sex? It was but an honor to serve you." He took a step closer, Agatha's back bumping into the empty coffin. "And I don't regret a second of it."

That filthy, conniving bastard. Without a moment's thought, Agatha balled up her first and punched Dracula square in his jaw. There was a crack, and a sharp pain shot up from her knuckles to her wrist. She had successfully broken her hand on the vampire's face. Unable to stifle back a howl, she reeled backwards and clutched her injured hand to her chest. Agatha tried to fight back the stingy tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

"Let me see your hand."

Instead of the snide remarks and teasing she'd expected, Dracula was looking at her with surprising concern. She turned away from him not wanting to meet his gaze. She felt stupid. Ridiculous. Instead of hurting him, she managed to damage herself. Nothing was going according to plan and she hated it.

"Agatha, let me see your hand."

"No," she muttered. "It's fine."

"It most certainly is not. Now quit acting like a child, and let me look at it."

Even though she didn't want to, something within her caused her to turn around. Dracula met her eyes momentarily before he reached forward and grasped her hand in his. She winced slightly in pain, but was surprised how careful he was. His brow furrowed in concentration as he looked it over, frowning at how it swelled and her fingers bruised dark purple and blue. It was a pretty impressive blow to say the least. Even if it backfired.

"This is going to need to be wrapped," he mumbled. "You did quite a number on yourself."

"I was trying to do quite a number on you," she answered, causing Dracula to chuckle. "It's not funny. Your...stone face broke my hand!"

"It'll heal with time," the vampire stated, giving her a half smile. "You have an impressive strike. If I were a human, perhaps you would've knocked me out."

"I wish I had," Agatha frowned.

"Take a compliment when it's given to you, Agatha," he smirked. "I rarely give them out often...genuine ones, I mean."

Gingerly letting go of her hand, Dracula began to remove his shirt. Agatha immediately stiffened, her eyes growing wide as he tore it off to reveal his pale, toned chest. Heat began to rise to her cheeks as she watched him, unable to tear her gaze away.

"What in God's name are you doing?!"

"Why, making you a sling, of course." The Count smiled, ripping the fabric into a long stripe. "Do I make you nervous?"

"Uncomfortable…" Agatha tried to avert her stare once more, but found herself instead peeking at him out of the corner of her eye. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I've been alive for centuries, Agatha. You learn a lot of things, as you've clearly witnessed." His breath tickled her neck as he leaned over, adjusting the makeshift sling around her. She shivered at the sensation and Dracula smiled. "I'm a man of many trades. Many of which I plan to show you. But…" He leaned back, just far enough so that he could make sure his dark eyes locked with hers. "After that hand of yours heals."

"I don't plan to stay for that long." Agatha exhaled, letting out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Whether that means you're dead or not, I don't know. But I am not staying."

"That's what they all say," the vampire smiled. "You'd be surprised. The castle grows on you." He held a finger to Agatha's mouth when she opened it, the nun scowling when he did. "Now I want to take care of that hand properly. Are you going to follow me upstairs or do I have to carry you?"

She considered punching him again, but the last thing she needed was to be completely unarmed. Slouching her shoulders, she gave him a curt nod. Dracula beamed and, with a bow of his head, led the way.

"So last night," Dracula began, breaking the silence as the two made their way out of the cellar. "Comments? Critiques? Oh, I do hope no concerns."

"I don't want to talk about it," Agatha muttered, trying to keep her attention forward and away from him. "I'd like to think of it as a nightmare."

"Pity," the vampire sighed. "I had quite a lot of fun myself. I never realized you were so flexible."

"Shut up," the nun hissed. "Before I find another stake and jam it down your throat."

"An interesting twist on foreplay, but I could get into it."

They reached the foyer before Dracula could make another remark. The vampire motioned towards a chair inviting Agatha to sit down. After their heartfelt conversation in the corridor, running into the fireplace seemed much more welcoming. But she did as he suggested and took a seat, still cradling her broken hand.

When the vampire darted out of the room, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Had she really been the one who started it all? Flung herself onto him like a hungry animal gunning for its prey? The more she really thought about it, the more she began to remember. His mouth on hers. Bare chest pressed to bare chest. His cool hand sliding down her thigh, fingers going into...Oh Christ, it had been her! Agatha groaned, hitting her head against the headrest. It had been her all along. And not only had it been her, but she had LIKED it. Really, liked it. Oh God. Was the room getting hot? She felt like she was on fire.

"Agatha? Are you alright?"

Once more Dracula's usual teasing tone changed to one of concern. Agatha opened her eyes to find him hovering over her, uncertainty and worry etched across his features. She swallowed hard, brushing a lock of her hair back as she attempted to recollect herself. Now was not the time to think of such things. Especially not around him.

"Never better." She responded, trying to maintain her dignity. "Just resting my eyes."

"I see…" the vampire eyed her inquisitively. "May I have your hand?"

She nodded and Dracula bent over and carefully undid the sling. He was meticulous, focused as he gingerly took her hand and began to wrap strips of cloth around it. In the beginning it stung a little, but soon she was completely bandaged up. Agatha studied his work, marveling at his precision. If he wasn't a blood thirsty brute, he'd have made an excellent doctor. Though his bedside manner would need lots of revision.

"How does it feel?" He inquired, eyes flickering from the cast to her face. "Does it hurt?"

"Not as much as it did before," Agatha admitted. "I suppose I owe you a thank you and…" She chewed on her bottom lip knowing she'd most likely regret it later. "An apology...for punching you in the face."

"Believe me," he smirked. "I've dealt with far worse." He appeared to hesitate for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry about your dress. I'll replace it. Again. Perhaps I should invest in a few."

"I still don't plan to stay, you know," Agatha said rather bluntly. "But...I wouldn't be opposed to something in lilac. I am rather fond of the flower."

Dracula seemed to consider this before giving her a nod. "I'll look around." His tone was genuine. Friendly. "But I do intend on putting up with you a little longer."

"Not if I rid you of this earth first." Her voice was firm, but the small smile that found its way onto her face took away from her intended threat.

"I suppose we'll see, dear Agatha," the vampire replied with a wide grin. "I suppose we'll see…"

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Bad Moon Rising

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nicolasnelson · 5 years

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Sizzie fic - Perchance to Dream [oneshot]

Title: Perchance to Dream Relationship: Lizzie Saltzman/Sebastian Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Sebastian’s POV Words: 2,388

Summary: Sebastian has a dream about Cassandra which scares him. Thankfully Lizzie is there to comfort him, but he wonders how long she will stay by his side.

Requested by @fandommatchmaker19 // Prompt: Would love a Sizzie one-shot in which Lizzie comforts Sebastian about something.

[AO3 LINK]

Sebastian could see her face in vivid detail, every inch of her as fine as an artist’s masterpiece. Her loving gaze and playful smile invited him in, and she whispered a promise to him.

“I will protect you always.” She kissed his palm and brushed her hair aside, allowing him access to her stunning neck.

“I cannot,” he said, though the temptation burned in his chest. Cassandra always did this to him, teased him with what he could not have.

She scooted closer to him on the bed, wrapping a leg around his torso and pushing her body against his. She slipped the sleeve of her silk gown off her shoulder so her breast pressed against his skin. Soft and warm and oh so tempting.

Sebastian nuzzled his cheek against her neck. His body was taut as he fought to maintain his control. If he broke for even a moment, desire might take over.

“Please, Sebastian,” she pleaded. “Blood will increase your lust. I want to feel all of you, to experience you the way only your victims have.”

“You may not survive it,” Sebastian said, his voice soft and strained. He sounded a little scared, even to his own ears, and maybe he was. It was hard to stop feeding once he started. The only times he managed it were when his victims were less than desirable.

She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his head closer against her neck. “I trust you.”

Sebastian chuckled against her skin. That was a mistake. No one should trust him when he could not even trust himself. The warm, sweet scent of blood tickled his nostrils, and he looked down to see Cassandra had drawn a knife under her collarbone. Red pooled from the cut in rivulets, trickling down onto her exposed breast.

His mouth watered, and he licked his lips. He could feel that his self control was already gone.

Sebastian awoke. He sat up in bed and saw the woman beside him, the long blond hair. He sighed in relief. He hadn’t killed her after all.

“Cassandra, dear,” he whispered and turned her onto her back. Dead eyes stared up, not quite meeting his, and he scrambled backwards off the bed. He hit the floor with a thunk.

And then he opened his eyes and found himself in a different bedroom. He was in bed, a blond woman beside him. It was all so familiar, like he was reliving the same nightmare. He didn’t dare check to see if she was alive.

The room was suffocating him, the floor wobbling beneath his feet. He stumbled to the door and tried the knob, but it wouldn’t turn. Oh, God. He was locked inside.

He slid his back down the cool wood and crumpled up, arms wrapped around his legs. His whole body was shaking, and he felt the tears trickling down his cheeks. Like the blood trickling down Cassandra’s chest. Oh, God. He still remembered the taste on his lips, sweet like strawberries.

“Sebastian, are you okay?”

He jumped, looking up to the blond woman. As his eyes focused on her, a name popped into his head. “Elizabeth.”

He sighed with relief. At least he hadn’t killed her. He hadn’t killed Cassandra either. He knew that now. It was just a dream, a memory, but knowing that didn’t calm him down. He was still on edge, like balancing on a tightrope above a pit of blood.

Elizabeth Saltzman sat down next to him and put a hand on his knee. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. You should go back to sleep.” He gave her a small smile.

Elizabeth laughed. “That was the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. Come on, Sebastian. You can’t keep this inside. I know what that’s like. It’ll just burn you from the inside out.”

“Like your episodes?”

“Exactly. You’ve seen how bad those can be. I don’t want you to go through that too.” She grabbed his hand, which was still shaking, and squeezed his fingers.

There was something soothing about being with Elizabeth. She understood him better than most, and she had the patience to learn more. It hadn’t always been that way. He could remember a time when she hated him, but now they were at a comfortable place. Not lovers, but certainly more than friends. Partners in copulation and the occasional crime.

“It was a dream,” Sebastian said. It felt wrong to say it aloud, like he was lying, because it was so much more than that. “Not a dream. A memory. There was a time I nearly killed Cassandra. I managed to stop myself, but it has always haunted me.”

“The past tends to do that,” Elizabeth said, sighing. “And you have more of it than most.”

Sebastian laughed, but it was soft and self-pitying. “I wish memories were not so long lasting. You would think I would forget after all these years, but I can never forget. Even when I am not actively thinking of them, they influence my actions.”

Elizabeth pulled out her cellular device. “I’ve got a playlist I like to listen to when I think I’m about to have a meltdown. It doesn’t always work, but sometimes it helps to get my mind off what’s bothering me.” She hit a button and music sprung forth from the device. She set it on the floor in front of them and leaned her head on Sebastian’s shoulder.

Sebastian squeezed her hand, grateful to have her by his side. The music was indeed soothing. He focused on the words and seeing how he could relate to them. The refrain particularly resonated with him.

I don't know if I can stay strong. Hold on, for too long. I've been lost. I need you here to calm me down. I need you here to calm me.

“Thank you, Elizabeth.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stayed like that through several more songs until Sebastian really did feel calm again. He’d never been able to calm himself down with music before. These fits of anxiety had plagued him for many, many years. They always made him feel like he was dying as a memory replayed in a loop in his head.

But Elizabeth had helped get him out of that loop. He had to do more than thank her with words. He had to show this beautiful creature how much she meant to him. How grateful he was that she had treated him like a person and not a child or someone crazy. She hadn’t seen his anxiety as a weakness at all.

And he’d never seen her struggles with her mental health as a weakness. So why all the self pity? He was strong and capable too. He was allowed to break down sometimes. His life was complicated and difficult. It was a wonder he hadn’t had a big meltdown after waking up in another century.

Everything was still so new, and he was still adjusting. Some things were amazing improvements that made life more convenient, like these devices that played music and relayed messages to other people. Some things were more annoying, like the doors that would open suddenly when you walked near them. Others were downright mind boggling, like the game of matching candy that people played on those devices for hours on end, wasting their lives away, chasing the satisfaction of reaching each new level.

It was a whole new world, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“Can we go for a ride in your vessel?” Sebastian asked.

“Right now?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Why, yes, my dear, it is my time of night after all.”

“We’d have to sneak out,” Elizabeth said, though there was a smile on her face and a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Add it to our list of crimes, Bonnie.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, laughing. “I should never have shown you that movie. You relate far too much to Clyde.”

“Only for his dedication to Bonnie,” Sebastian said, drinking her in. Elizabeth really was the most wonderful creature he’d ever met.

...

They snuck out through the kitchens in the dorms. Pedro was in there having a snack, but he promised Elizabeth he wouldn’t tell anyone. Sebastian wasn’t sure whether they could trust the small child, but he didn’t really care if they got into trouble. He was used to it by now.

Elizabeth put the top down on the car and drove them through the town and onto the interstate. Sebastian enjoyed the cool air against his face. It reminded him of horse riding, but it was so much smoother and faster, much more exhilarating. He looked over at Elizabeth to see her blond hair whipping all around her like a tumbleweed.

“Oh, hush. Your hair doesn’t look any better,” Elizabeth said when she caught his amused smile in the mirror.

He glanced at himself. The wind was slicking his hair back, much like the 1931 version of Dracula. “This is very old wine. I hope you will like it,” he said, smirking.

Elizabeth barked out a laugh at the reference. “Aren't you drinking?”

“I never drink”—Sebastian paused dramatically—“wine.”

Elizabeth jerked the car to the right and took the exit. She drove into a small patch of woods and parked the car. “Should we put the top back up?”

“Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn,” Sebastian said.

“Oh, God. I love it when you quote Gone with the Wind.” Elizabeth grabbed his neck and pulled him into a hungry kiss.

Her breath still smelled of peppermint toothpaste, and Sebastian found it downright intoxicating. He helped maneuver Elizabeth over the center console so she could straddle his lap. It felt nice to look up at her, like she was some goddess smiling down at him, bestowing kisses upon him like gifts no mortal man deserved.

Sebastian had to remind himself he was no mortal man. He’d made his share of mistakes, but this beauty believed he was worthy of her affection. He had confidence that he looked the part, but he never believed he had the personality to match. All his charm was heavily practiced, as he’d spent years studying (and flirting with) the masters. Kings and prostitutes and everything in between.

Elizabeth pushed her hair behind her shoulder, exposing her neck to him. “Do that thing I like.”

Sebastian was hesitant for a moment as the old fear gripped him, but he obliged, pressing his lips against Elizabeth’s smooth skin. He ran his tongue along the back of her ear, playing in the corner just behind her earlobe. Elizabeth melted in his arms, goose pimples prickling all along her skin as she shivered in delight.

He was still surprised she trusted him to do this. Was she even a little afraid he might be tempted to bite her instead? Or was she like Cassandra, naively trusting he’d be able to stop once he started?

Witches couldn’t know the allure of blood, how it wasn’t like a delicious cake they could eat bit by bit over time. Blood was like wine to an alcoholic, drugs to an addict, that stupid candy game to mindless teenagers. You didn’t have to be a ripper to become consumed by that hunger.

Elizabeth nuzzled her nose against his, pulling him from his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but think instead about how adorable she was. And how unfairly lucky he was to have her in his arms. He wasn’t good enough for her, and she knew it, but she wanted him anyways.

Their lips met again, tongues dancing to the familiar choreography, and he ran his fingers through her hair, marveling at its softness. He imagined transporting her to his time. Not his drab life on the colony, where he was devoted to Cassandra, but the time before he became a vampire. His life in Europe, the elaborate parties he had attended. Elizabeth would look wonderful in one of those ball gowns, with her hair pinned up, that lovely neck on full display. Dainty gloves on her dangerous hands. Pink slippers on her beautiful feet.

Oh how she would have turned heads. He would never have gotten the chance to dance with her then, only to admire from afar.

“I am pleased with how my life has turned out,” Sebastian admitted, a little surprised that he’d uttered the thought aloud.

Elizabeth sat back a little to study his face. “Because of me?”

Sebastian let out a chuckle. “Well, yes, you’re a big part of it. But there’s more to it. If I hadn’t been desiccated in that box, the colonists would have killed me. I never would have gotten the chance to see the twenty-first century, to attend a school of witches, werewolves, vampires, and other things I had never heard of, like tribrids and phoenixes.”

“Well, they are one of a kind,” she said.

Sebastian smiled. “As are you, Elizabeth. I am at an odd place in my life right now. While I am grateful to have the chance to live in this world and interact with you, I fear that all of this will not last. No one in that school trusts me, even after everything I do to help all of you. It feels like I may never earn my place. I am merely being used for my muscles and my vampiric abilities.”

“That is not how I think of you,” Elizabeth assured him.

“Do you think the others will ever change their minds? Or will they continue despising me forever?”

Elizabeth pressed her forehead to his. “Forever is a long time. I think they can warm up to you eventually. I’m doing everything in my power to persuade them.”

Sebastian felt that bubbly happiness in his chest. The kind that made him nervous. Elizabeth was doing so much for him, and all he was doing was helping her when she asked, offering his body to her when she asked.

Maybe it was time he did a favor for her without asking. A gift perhaps, or a special day just for her. An idea was already forming in his mind.

“Elizabeth, how would you feel if I took you on a proper date?”

She blinked in surprise, then smiled sweetly. “I would like that very much.”

#legacies #legacies fanfiction #sizzie #lizzie saltzman #lizzie x sebastian #sebastian #*#my writing #rated M #sizzie fanfiction #this one turned out different than expected #but i love it lol

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castlevania-afterdark-imagines · 5 years

Text

In celebration of 666 followers…

Castlevania Afterdark Presents…

Featuring our 5th most requested character...

The devil forgemaster and animal lover himself...

Interview 1 of 5: Hector

Mod Soviet: Alright, in our number 5 most requested character answers countdown we have Hector! Thank you for taking time out of your busy forging job to be here.

Hector: Of course, I'm glad to be here.

S: Let's be honest here, you're just here for the animals.

H: Well, you might have a point about that.

S: Well consider yourself lucky because the audience went easy on you this round. At least for the choice of animal.

H: I- what?

S: Release the hounds!

A barrage of puppies arrive on the scene, all different breeds. The two most energetic labs arrive at Hector's chair just as he gives a delighted laugh and dropped to the floor to sit with them. Soon he's surrounded by a dozen furry babies, all torn between tugging on his clothes and playing with each other. Hector finds the small Havanese among the mix that is trying not to get trampled and holds her to his chest.

H: This has undoubtedly become the best day of my life! (He's clearly trying to remain calm so as to not upset the puppy cuddling into his neck but the glee in his face is evident).

S: Good! Because that might change after these questions.

H: What?

S: Nothing.

Mod Rose (whispering, from off to the side): Ask him the Dracula ones!

S: Shhhhh! We'll get there!

Hector is trying to referee a beagle and husky nipping match with one hand, pressing his check to the Havanese now biting at his hair.

S: Okay first question, "Would you ever want to be turned into a vampire?"

Hector laughs, setting the puppy into his lap to he can lift the nippy beagle with both hands.

H: I see you're picking the easy questions first.

R: You don't know the half of it!

H: I'd thought about the idea, and Dracula had discussed it with me. In the end I decided against it. Despite my resentment for humans-

Rose and Soviet try to not react but Rose visibly flinches and sniffles.

H: -there are distinct advantages. For one, if I was only able to come out at night I don't think these fellows would appreciate it.

He reaches out to scritch at an exposed lab's belly, giving a grin when it turns to know on his fingers.

H: And I do enjoy being in the sun, though finding time for that lately has been difficult.

S: So in light of a love for sunbathing and puppies being able to frolic on a summer afternoon... that's a no for you?

Hector laughs, ducking as a basset hound tries to leap at his back.

H: Correct, at least those are some of the reasons.

R: Valid, except for the sunbathing part.

S: Agreed. Okay next one, "what will you do when Dracula has finished his war?"

H: I suppose it will really depend on the state of the world afterwards. I've thought about returning to Rhodes, but I like the countryside here. Perhaps I'd stay, find somewhere isolated that I can learn more about the types of wildlife in the North.

S: And add to your little friend collection?

H: I'd hardly call them that. (He's petting the Havanese snoozing in his lap, finding the spot under its chin that makes its paws wiggle in its dreams) But yes, I imagine I would find many companions here.

R: Can I volunte-

S: Next question.

R: You cockblockin-

S: "Are you a virgin?"

R: Oooh.

Hector makes a small grimace before quickly diverting his eyes to the pups.

H: Keeping a lot of reanimated animals is hardly an effective means of attracting a mate. Not to mention I found my distaste for humans very young in life-

S: So yes.

H: Yes, and I'm not bothered by it.

S and R: Valid.

H: Why would anyone want to know that?

S: (Raises an eyebrow) Oh, that's the tamest of the related question line.

H: Oh.

S: But let's begin with one of the more tame asks.

H: How generous...

S: "What would your ideal lover be like?"

Hector goes red at the tops of his ears, quickly becoming fascinated with inspecting the length of the basset puppy's ears.

H: Why would anyone-

S: So they can take notes. (Soviet gestures at Rose who already has a pen and paper prepared.)

Hector grimaces a little before sighing and straightening his posture a bit.

H: Very well. If I had to list qualities they would be...kind, reasonable, and possess a love for animals, of course. (He smiles softly as he gently moves the sleeping pup from his lap so it isn't disturbed by the more rambunctious ones trying to clamber in for their turn.) I'm sorry, I'd never thought to try and come up with anything so specific.

S: That's fine, anything else you'd like to put on your wish list?

Hector laughs, running a hand through his hair.

H: They'd have to be alright with my forging, though it might be nice if they had an area of study they liked as well. Then we'd never get bored of each other, because we would always have something the other doesn't know but could share.

R: (Talking to Soviet) This is a more pure response than I think we're used to dealing with.

S: Correct, but I mean- (She gestures at the man surrounded by puppies all either fighting for his attention or taking a snooze around him.)

R: You're not wrong.

H: If that's enough of an answer...

S: Sure, that's fine. Next one is more exciting anyway.

H: Oh, good.

S: "What if your significant other surprised you by waiting in your room in a lacey little snow white lingerie set?"

Hector breaks into laughter, which spreads to Rose and Soviet.

H: Again, I've never thought to consider something so specific! (He is shaking his head and grinning at the golden retriever that he's pinned in its back with his hand, giving quick little pets to while trying to avoid having his fingers chewed.) 'What if' indeed. Well, I certainly can't say I'd object to it."

R: Oooh?

H: (He gives a shrug) I am only a man, and there are some things about our nature that will never change.

S: And that includes appreciation for snow white lingerie?

Hector huffs a laugh through his nose, turning a little red and directing his eyes down.

H: Something like that.

S: You're more than welcome to clarify.

R: Please do.

H: I will pass, thank you.

R and S: Damn. (This results in another little outbreak of laughter from all three.)

S: Okay then, "Do you have a crush on some in Dracula's court?"

Hector rolls his eyes, again turning his attention to the puppies.

H: No, I don't, white lingerie or no.

Rose purses her lips in a pout, but Soviet grins.

S: More specifically, "do you have a crush on Isaac?" (Rose starts grinning again.)

Hector barks a laugh, spooking one of the pups. He quickly reaches out to scoop it up and set it on his lap.

H: Not at all, no. I respect him, and his work, but I don't fancy him. Admittedly he's made some remarks that I didn't understand, but that's no different than some of the others in the castle. I hardly understand Godbrand either.

Mod Rose and Mod Soviet exchange raised eyebrows, but don't interrupt.

R: Not even a little?

H: I... (Hector seems to turn the idea in his head, tilting his head a bit before shrugging). He is good looking, I suppose. But I prefer to keep things professional between us.

R: Don't sleep with coworkers is a pretty fair bit of advice.

Hector again rolls his eyes but he's chuckling. Now that the initial shock of questions is wearing off he doesn't seem as bothered at least humoring the proposed questions.

S: Uh oh.

H and R: What?

S: "Is it bothering to be the third wheel between Dracula and Isaac?"

R breaks into giggles while Hectors previous humor seems to have dropped back to mild confusion.

H: Third wheel between- no, it isn't bothersome because nothing is happening there. Or if there is I am not part of it.

S: Would you be opposed if there was?

H: I think the leader of the war and his two generals engaging in romantic affairs while waging said war would be a terrible idea.

S: (to Rose) I want to say that's wrong but...

R: Afterwards?

S: Afterwards.

Hector sighs, stretching out on his side to lie among the puppy pile that has turned into a cuddle puddle. He's started rearranging some of them by size so nobody is getting squished.

H: I presume there's more asking this line of questioning. You did say 'Dracula questions' earlier.

S: "Do you call Dracula 'Daddy' in private?"

Hector chokes in a laugh, flopping into his back and putting a hand over his eyes. He's still chortling to himself when he finally uncovers them.

H: No, I don't.

R: A likely story.

H: Believe what you like, but I have more respect for him than I ever did for my father. Calling him that would be an insult.

S: I...I don't think they meant that way but also can't argue with that reasoning.

H: I also don't think his son would appreciate that very much either.

R: Who said he has to know?

H: I still wouldn't risk it.

S: Maybe this would be a better risk instead.

Hector raises an eyebrow, propping back up on his elbow.

S: "I have heard there are orgies in Dracula's court. Is it true?"

Hector shakes his head, having to lean up a little more to avoid a small weiner dog who has woken up and is trying to nip away his ear.

H: I don't know who said that, nor if that is true. I've certainly never been invited.

S: Maybe Cezar chews up the invitations?

H: He's more intelligent than I give him credit for if that's true.

R: You really wouldn't go?

H: Of course not. Even if these orgies were happening I know Godbrand would be responsible for starting it.

Both Mod Rose and Mod Soviet grimace.

H: That is exactly my point.

S: Now that that horrifying image is in my head forever... (Mod Rose gags in the background) This last question is probably the most lewd (Rose stops gagging and looks up), filthy (Rose’s eyes glitter), outright scandalous ask of them all. Are you ready?

H: No.

R: Yes!

Hector lies back down, lifting up the snoozy Havanese and setting it over his eyes.

H: Just say it then.

S: The last ask is... "Can I please marry you and take care of you?? Sorry! I am just so happy you exist! 💜💜💜 have some cookies!”

Hector convulses with laughter, having to scoot the puppy off his face when it startles awake. Rose looks somewhere between delighted and very disappointed.

H: I- ha! You had me prepared for the worst.

S: Well the real bad news is the puppies got into the cookies before this. Thankfully no belly aches, but that’s no dessert for you.

H: That’s fine, this was fun.Though if I’m honest I much prefer that last question to the few previous. Though I admit I’m not used to being taken care of, so that would take some getting used to.

Hector sits back up, holding the Havanese to his chest.

S: Well, thank you very much for coming in.

H: Of course, my pleasure.

R: I’m gonna have to ask you to put the puppies down though.

Hector pauses mid shifting the Havanese to one arm so he can reach for the Weiner dog with the other.

H: What?

R: We need those for the next interview.

H: Ah, I see.

Hector makes no move to put them down.

S: Well...he could take one.

R: Two?

S: Fine, two.

Hector grins, shouldering up the pups into his arms and casting a wistful look at the remaining pack.

H: Well for their sake I hope it’s someone who is good to them and can care for them.

Mod Rose chokes on a laugh while Mod Soviet suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.

S: Let’s just say they’ll do their best...

#666 followers #Hector #mod soviet #gen #imagines

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chibioniyuri · 7 years

Text

Touch the Dark Reread: Chapters 1-5

OK, so we’ve got two weeks before Ride the Storm comes out (yay!), so I’m finally making time to the the series reread. I should be moving, but who cares?

It’s time to delve into the first of the series!

I haven’t read this since the first time, honestly. I was browsing in Barnes and Noble and happened to pick it up. The blurb was ok, and the first chapter pulled me in, so I took it home and read it. The next day, I went back and purchased the next two (or three? I can’t remember if Curse the Dawn was out at the time) books because they were out at the time. And if I’ve ever felt like rereading any of them, I always start with the second. The first was great for world-building, but I’ve always been a Pritkin fangirl, and there’s just not enough of him in this installment.

That being said, I’m stoked to be starting from the beginning, and with only 14 chapters, it shouldn’t take too long to get through. Let’s get to this.

I had a lot more to say about this than I thought and got pretty long-winded. Have a cut.

Chapter 1

What kind of opening line if “I knew I was in trouble as soon as I saw the obituary”? Karen Chance, opening stories with wild lines since the beginning.

I saw a post during the CVGR that asked how old Cassie is, and best I can tell is around 24? She mentions buying her gun/matching purses on “recommendation of a Fed named Jerry Sydell” four years ago and that she’ll never know how he explained away a 20-year-old orphan knowing the inner workings of a major crime family.

Ooh, moon count the first. Maybe I’ll keep track of these for fun as we go along. Maybe rain too, cause here’s our first sighting of rain as well, as she’s talking to Portia. I miss Portia. And ghosts in general. She doesn’t interact with ghosts as frequently in the more recent books.

Oh ho ho, here’s the card for the book: The Tower. Huge cataclysmic change, life completely altered. Read to Mike, the bar owner that we never see again.

As an aside, I never understand boots. Cassie’s wearing over the knee boots with four-inch heels. Tomas is wearing boots that reach mid-thigh. I can’t even fit my foot in most boots. How is this possible? I’m calling shenanigans.

Even in the beginning, I remember thinking Tomas’s entrance to Cassie’s life suspicious. The shelter manager introducing them, Cassie being so intrigued by his personality that she mentions him to her boss and invites him into her home as a roommate, and Mike hiring him immediately after a short interview. How much vampire compulsion was used to orchestrate this?

Chapter 2

I’d forgotten how it feels to read a Karen Chance action scene. Holy cow, that was a rush!

I know Cassie doesn’t use ghosts in battle, for obvious reasons. But how wicked would it be, from the POV of the person being attacked? Body parts falling off for no good reason, suddenly freezing, both temperature wise and motion wise, before finally bursting into pieces. No wonder her dad has such a wicked reputation, if he was a well-known necromancer. I’m sure he himself cultivated some of that reputation, all the better to scare people away from his - wife? lover? goddess? I don’t know how to define their relationship - and child.

I felt so badly for Cassie, this chapter. She tries so hard to balance her visions and perceived sins with the good of helping others. She even goes out on an emotional limb with Tomas. The betrayal she feels when his true identity is revealed really, really hurts.

One thing I don’t remember much from the more recent installments - master vamp auras. She feels Tomas’s like a hot wind, and the Consul’s soon. Does she become more accustomed to them in the future, or do they hold back around her? Something to keep an eye out for because I don’t remember her being quite as affected later.

Chapter 3

Wall sconces with knives! I don’t know why I’m pointing these out.

I wonder if there’s anything to that Crystal Gazing article about Martians kidnapping witches. It more than likely refers to the witch-trafficking operation smuggling viable females to the Fae world, but I’ll keep an eye on this too.

I’m surprised how quickly Cassie switches from thinking Tomas was hired by Tony to “Senate spy.” I mean, it’s true, he’s a spy for Louis-Cesar, but I’m used to her train of thought being more laid out than this.

Ooh, Tomas talks to the guard prior to the attack! If I’m remembering the plot correctly, he winds up being a mole. I wonder what this conversation was about.

Again with the master aura. This time, the Consul’s voice overflows with such power that Cassie shivers. And when talking with Pritkin, it’s like a warm summer breeze carrying acid. And when she’s attacking, it’s like a sandstorm. Master vampire auras are scary.

I love the Consul’s description, too. Eloquent enough with contextual clues that we don’t actually need her name mentioned to understand exactly in who’s presence Cassie is standing.

OK, Senate seats. Let’s go. 12 seats, aside from the Consul’s. Dark-haired woman with the scarred neck, Mircea, the lookalikes that are not related. Jack. Two hovering on the edge of the abyss, which is later revealed to be Marlowe and Ismitta. And then Augusta, one of the missing. Since only two survived and they’re named, we’ll assume Augusta died for now. And the Consul’s second, Mei Ling. Four dead. Ok. This may be relevant later on?

Pritkin spotting! I’ve always wondered how he sees Cassie here. A bloody, torn smiley dace shirt, a leather micromini with leather over-the-knee boots, cradled protectively in a vampire’s arms. Probably an intimidating sight, since he recoils later on when she makes eye contact with him. Doesn’t help that he thinks she’s either a demon or possessed, iirc.

I find it incredibly funny that Cassie mentions wanting “someone whose specialty was more in the guns and knives line.” She’ll get that person soon =D

I noticed this time that, even when the guards physically block Pritkin’s way, they’re still more concerned with watching Cassie than Pritkin. Another small hint that Cassie is a target? I’ll have to keep vigilant for small, throwaway lines like this. They’re not so throwaway after all.

Geez, Pritkin, you’re so over the top here. I was giggle-snorting through this exchange because it’s not exactly the most flattering intro to his character, with him throwing around comments about war and who can best “deal” with Cassie, but it is pretty accurate when you consider his repertoire tends to go more bold proclamations with the ability to back them up.

Every time I read his description though, my mind boggles. How in the world can he carry that many weapons? How is it not incredibly inconvenient to carry so many blades and projectile weapons? How does a simple trench coat manage to make him blend in in later books? I need answers to these very important questions.

Chapter 4

Werewolf named Sebastian, never seen again? Was he just a location setter, so Cassie learn she’s at MAGIC, or will he be relevant later on? Find out next time, or maybe never because we still don’t know.

Why does Cassie react so very, very strongly to Louis-Cesar? Is it like some sort of inner-Pythia senses tingling at someone whose timeline is being interfered with? Or is it her inner clairvoyance tingling at someone with such a dark, dark history, warning her to stay away? I can’t remember if that ever gets resolved. I think it’s a shame because he’s trying so hard to set her at ease here, which makes me think he’s a good person.

I don’t have much to comment on about the excursion into the past. Except to say that maybe since Cassie is experiencing this is Louis-Cesar’s body, she isn’t aware of the level of hauntings in this place, but she’s still experiencing the chill from a non-sensitive’s awareness?

Oh ho ho, the Tears are mentioned. Who knew they would become such a god-damned vital piece in future books? Barely mentioned here and probably not again this book? I don’t remember. But geez... hide your plot points early and in an offhanded manner, and it’ll likely squeak past your reader’s noses.

Chapter 5

Billy Joe! How I’ve missed this son-of-a-gun. Though he does seem pretty unreliable, at least in his intro. Detouring to Las Vegas instead of finding Cassie when he’s pretty sure she’s in trouble?

I love how easily Karen Chance weaves big-name people into her narrative. So far, we have Cleopatra, Dracula’s older brother, Kit Marlowe, and now Rasputin. I wonder how much research she puts in to make these stories work so well?

And now we’re starting to get to the meat of the plot. We’ve got Rasputin, challenging Senate seats and winning. Somehow, he turns their own vampires against them, and we have unknown vampires showing up, which should be impossible. This was so intriguing the first time I read it. Confusing, but intriguing.

And more background on vampires and how order is kept. It is a pretty simple system, but there’s so much room for intrigue and challenges, as we see later.

The Fey lost a noble in the crossfire between Rasputin and the Senate? Did we ever find out who this person is? Now that we’re getting more heavily into the Fae storyline, maybe this will become more relevant?

Oh ho ho. “The mage’s circle is pissed, too, though I don’t know why, and are calling for Rasputin’s head on a platter.” Maybe because he’s working with their runaway heir?

And now, here’s Jimmy the Rat. His name is incredibly funny to me because it just sounds like a description of his character, but it’s so much more, as we find out later.

I’m still really disgusted with someone warding Cassie’s energy from her so she can’t escape. Vampires have been manipulating her into situations favorable to them since the beginning, and this was probably the start of my bias against Mircea. He doesn’t fare very well in the rest of the book (or the series, let’s be honest).

Hehe, I love our introduction to magic here, with this ward on the window. I wonder why it’s called a Marley?

#cvgr #chanceverse group read #Cassie Palmer Series #touch the dark #wow this got long #I'll have to be less verbose in the future #or there's no way I can get through the rest of the series before RtS comes out

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