#vampire academy cast

[vampireacademyshow]

A little Christmas reunion post as a 🎄 gift 🎁

[kajaono]

Not Kieron calling Andre „the best birthday present in the world“ in his IG story, then hugging and kissing him 😭

[mylifeisjustafeverdream]

We as a fandom simply do not speak enough about how perfectly casted Cameron Monaghan was as Mason in the VA movie. Despite everything wrong with that film he was so well done. He came to set and knew exactly who Mason was supposed to be. We deserved to see more of him, and everyday I mourn what we lost.

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Drawings of the TUA Paranatural AU, mostly of the Sparrows. Alphonso and Sloane are both adults, wearing matching red and black suits. Both of them are spectrals, as indicated by the spectral energy rising off of them.

Marcus about twelve, the same as the majority of the Hargreeves. He is posing dramatically and wearing a polo shirt and khakis.

Fei and Jayme are both about 17, and are both vampires. Fei is wearing platform boots and an all-black outfit with a sheer skirt, and Fei is wearing a baseball tee and UFO pants.

The last image is of Umbrella Ben and Sparrow Ben. Umbrella Ben is a ghost, and looks about twelve. Sparrow Ben is alive, and a similar age to Fei and Jayme. End ID.]

I have decided what to do with the sparrows!

Alphonso and Sloane both work for the Commission on spirit-wrangling or whatever it is the commission does. They're a bit younger than Five (Sloane is 22, Alphonso is 20), and are roughly equivalent to Agent Day, for anyone familiar with the original comic. Basically, theyre there to snoop.

Marcus has some kind of band kid rivalry with Viktor. I don't know enough about band to determine what it is, but rest assured that they are very passionate about it.

Paranatural has vampires in it! I don't know what the deal is with vampires in paranatural so i wasn't going to include any, but specifically Fei and Jayme as vampires won me over. They probably spend their time trying to kill sparrow Ben.

Umbrella Ben and Sparrow Ben are both in this au! They're twins :)

[xdarkeningkrystals]

If HoN's Live Action Adaptation ever gets our of Development Hell, I would not be surprised at how much they will have to clean up everything and even make it completely something different, especially with PC and Kristin's approval. Even Vampire Academy had to be cleaned up and changed up and the books weren't even 1/3 as offensive HoN was. Even for 2007, HoN was very unacceptable so you can't say it was product of its time like VA was.

Plus since Legacies went downhill and even Vampire Academy flopped, I just don't see another Vampire School show doing well nowadays.

[an-excellent-choice]

Headcanon where Gale is the famous professor in the academy for being one of the few professors who actually had a great perilous adventure but none of the students (and some staff too) believe it really happened.

Like they file it away as one of those things where he probably just saw it at the sidelines not really like thick in battle since he has the orb to worry about.

Until finally one day Gale holds a special series of seminars/demonstrations for in the field spellcasting for fights or crisis. He invited all the party members he could in these seminars

Suddenly a former shar worhipper, gith, vampire, devil, is that the blade of frontiers(?), the legendary jaheira and the hero of baldurs gate just are there to help the demo/seminar.

A nighttime demo for Astarion, A lesson on how to cast light spells and be alert for rogues. Not to mention how to maintain concentration when you get shot by an arrow, Gale will say as Astarion shoots an arrow at him. ( at some point an arrow does sink in Gale's shoulder and the whole class freezes but Gale just tuts disapprovingly while Astarion just acts innocently like he doesnt have a longbow in his hand)

Karlach makes a demo on how to distinguish devils and how to kill them. She and Gale also show how to deal with a raging barbarian in a fight as a wizard, Hint human shields i mean tanks companions are important.

Wyll is charming the socks of the audience and shows self-defense tactics when an enemy too close. Oh yes he used to be a warlock but his patron was a devil so he had to cut ties with her

Shadowheart talks about healing spells and being aware of the your companions healths. She especially emphasizes the importance of being able to self heal in emergencies especially for wizards while giving pointed looks at Gale while Gale awkwardly(or guiltily?) shuffles and clears his throat

Laezel talks about the battlefield positions and best placement of wizards in the field to help the strongest soldiers and she also shows which of the body parts they should aim their spells. (I like imagining Laezel having her baby strapped on her while doing her demo or using her baby to show which body parts)

And after a while the students realize with how Gale seamlessly shows or helps in the demos that omg maybe professor Dekarios did help save the baldurs gate

[poisonlove]

The Tour | w.a

Wednesday Addams X Fem reader

"People are like plants: it’s not the amount of light they receive, but the kind that determines if they bloom." - Anonymous

“I don’t want to do it, Enid,” Wednesday hisses through gritted teeth, casting a cold look at the blonde in front of her.

“It was my turn last year! Can’t you do me this favor just this once?” Enid responds, her tone a mix of sweetness and desperation, her eyes pleading with her roommate.

I decide to look away, letting my attention wander around the room’s decor. I had just arrived at Nevermore Academy, and the headmistress had assured me that someone would show me around. But it seems she had asked the wrong people.

I was born with two powers: super hearing and the ability to read minds. The latter I try to avoid as much as possible; it feels like invading people’s privacy. But with super hearing, there’s no way to turn it off. All I can do is try to distract myself by focusing on something that captures my attention.

One of the main reasons I avoid using my powers is the discomfort of hearing what people think and say about you. Discovering what others are hiding can be devastating, and...

Oh, look. There’s a hand walking by itself.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, but a slight smile escapes me at the unusual sight.

“Is something amusing you?” Wednesday Addams asks with a hint of venom in her voice. I look up, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as her dark eyes lock onto mine with a chilling intensity.

Her body is rigid, her posture upright, and her head held high with an unshakable pride.

As soon as I meet her gaze, a strange sensation crosses my mind. Then, a phrase materializes in my thoughts: I don’t like this girl. The feeling of discomfort replaces my initial embarrassment.

Enough, Y/N, I think to myself. Stop reading thoughts.

“Sorry, she’s just like that...” Enid interjects with a nervous smile, shooting a sidelong glance at her friend.

“No, it’s fine,” I quickly reply, trying to mask my discomfort as I set my suitcase on the floor.

Wednesday huffs with a hint of annoyance and gracefully walks over to her desk. She grabs the bag that was on the chair and, before leaving the room, gives me one last look that makes me wish I could disappear. Then, without a word, she steps out of Ophelia Hall.

“I think you should follow her,” Enid suggests with a small smile.

I give her a small wave, almost as a thank you, and hurry to exit, trying to keep up with the small but surprisingly fast Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday walks ahead of me, her steps light but purposeful, as I try to match her pace. She doesn’t look back or check if I’m following, but her silence is a clear signal that she expects me to keep up.

Wednesday stops in front of a large wrought-iron gate that leads to a circular outdoor space. In the center stands an old and somewhat eerie fountain, with five paths branching off in different directions, forming a sort of pentagon.

“Welcome to the Pentagram,” she says in her usual flat, unenthusiastic tone. “This is the heart of Nevermore Academy. From here, you can access all the main areas of the school... and encounter the different ‘categories’ of students.”

I stop beside her, observing the area. There’s a strange energy in the air, as if something darker lurks beneath the seemingly tranquil surroundings.

Wednesday turns slowly to face me, her dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes it hard to look away. “Here at Nevermore, we’re not all the same,” she explains, gesturing vaguely towards the paths around the fountain. “There are vampires, of course. They’re not as charming as in the movies, but they consider themselves quite superior.”

She indicates one of the paths with a slight nod of her head. “Then there are werewolves... Enid is an example. Unlike vampires, at least werewolves have a sense of loyalty, though their pack mentality can be... irritating.”

Continuing, she shifts her gaze to another path. “Mermaids,” she says, with a note of slight disdain in her voice. “They’re natural manipulators. They can control minds with their voices, but they’re very appearance-conscious. Never trust a mermaid. They have a talent for deception.”

She takes a brief pause and then gestures towards another corner of the courtyard. “And then there are the Gorgons. Not exactly Medusas, but if they look you in the eye without their special glasses, you turn to stone. Literally.”

I watch her closely, trying to discern if there’s a hint of irony in her tone, but her face remains impassive.

“Finally, there are those who don’t fit into any specific category,” she concludes, looking up at the dark sky above us. “The anomalies. People like me.”

“What do you mean by ‘anomalies’?” I ask, intrigued.

Wednesday stops and turns to face me, her black eyes shining with an intensity that makes it difficult to look away. “Anomalies,” she begins, “are people who don’t fit into the predefined groups of Nevermore. They don’t fall into common categories like vampires, werewolves, or mermaids. They are... different in ways that our classification can’t always explain.”

She looks at me with an expression that suggests how little she understands my curiosity. “They are individuals who possess unusual abilities or characteristics that defy the usual labels. Some may have strange powers, while others simply don’t conform to expectations.”

Her words leave me with a sense of wonder and a touch of unease. “So, students who don’t belong to any of the main groups are considered anomalies?”

“Exactly,” Wednesday confirms.

I remain silent for a moment, reflecting on what she has said. “Then I suppose I belong to this group.”

Wednesday gazes at me with attentive eyes. There’s a subtle shift in her expression, as if my question has finally piqued her interest. “What powers do you have?” she asks, her voice softer, almost interrogative.

My heart beats a little faster. I’ve never liked talking about my powers, but I can’t avoid this conversation. “I can... hear thoughts. And I have super hearing. Though I try to avoid using telepathy, out of respect for others’ privacy.”

As soon as I say this, I notice a slight stiffening in Wednesday’s shoulders. Instinctively and somewhat awkwardly, she raises her hands, bringing them near her head as if to build an invisible barrier around her mind for protection. The gesture is oddly endearing, a contrast to her usual unflappable demeanor.

“Are you reading my thoughts right now?” she asks, with a calm exterior, but her guard is clearly up.

“No!” I reply quickly, also raising my hands as if to demonstrate my innocence. “I never do it intentionally... unless it’s an emergency. I really do respect other people’s boundaries.”

Wednesday watches me for a long moment, scrutinizing every detail of my face as if trying to decide whether to trust my answer. Then, slowly, she lowers her hands, although she still seems cautious.

“It’s... an annoying power,” she comments finally. “It’s not very common here. Nevermore students tend to be very protective of their secrets.”

I lower my gaze, feeling embarrassed. “I know. That’s why I try not to use it.”

Wednesday gives a small nod of approval and, without adding anything else, turns and begins walking towards one of the paths in the Pentagram. After a few steps, she stops and looks back at me.

“Are you going to stand there staring all day, or do you plan on following me?” she asks in her flat tone. “The tour isn’t over.”

I take a deep breath and hurry to follow her. It seems that Nevermore still has many secrets to reveal... and Wednesday has no intention of slowing down for anyone.

Wednesday continues to lead me through the corridors of Nevermore, passing by groups of students chatting or hurrying to their destinations. She doesn’t seem to notice anyone around her, walking with a decisive and assured stride, expecting me to follow without question.

After navigating various narrow passages and dark staircases, we finally arrive at a pair of imposing dark wooden doors. Wednesday opens them without hesitation, revealing a vast hall filled with towering shelves brimming with books that seem as ancient as the school itself. The soft light adds an almost mystical touch to the environment.

“This is Nevermore's library,” Wednesday says in her usual flat tone. “A place many students use as an excuse for making out in hidden corridors or, worse, for reading poorly-written romance novels.”

I can’t help but smile slightly. “That’s not really my genre,” I reply, admiring the massive collection of books. “I prefer something more... stimulating. Like mystery or horror.”

Wednesday stops abruptly and turns toward me, with a slightly curious expression. Her dark eyes scrutinize me as if trying to determine whether I’m serious or just trying to impress her.

“Interesting,” she murmurs with a faint smile.

She gestures for me to follow as she makes her way through the library and heads toward the exit.

“So,” she begins in a measured tone, “if you prefer mystery and horror, who are your favorite authors? I hope you don’t just name the usual clichés.”

I sense that she’s testing me, seeing if I truly have an authentic knowledge of those genres. I think for a moment and then answer confidently. “Shirley Jackson, for example. Few manage to capture the hidden horror in everyday banality like she does.”

For a moment, I see something change in Wednesday’s expression. It’s uncommon to see her surprised, but it seems that the name I just mentioned has struck a chord with her. Her lips curl slightly into a barely perceptible smile.

“Shirley Jackson,” she repeats, as if savoring the name. “Finally, someone with good taste. We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a masterpiece of unease and despair.”

I can’t help but feel a bit satisfied for having passed her test. Wednesday continues to observe me for a few more seconds, then turns and resumes walking. Although she doesn’t say anything, there’s a new dynamic between us, a sort of mutual respect that wasn’t there before.

“Follow me,” she says finally. “There’s still much more to see.”

Wednesday continues to lead me through the school with her determined stride, guiding me down a long corridor that leads outside. We cross the courtyard and head toward a separate building, surrounded by climbing plants and well-tended shrubs.

“This is the greenhouse,” Wednesday says as we open the glass door. Inside, the greenhouse is a tangle of exotic plants, some with an unsettling appearance, with flowers in unnatural colors and leaves that seem to move on their own. “Here, the rarest and most poisonous plants are cultivated. Mortality biology, as I prefer to call it.”

As we observe a plant with leaves that shift slightly as we pass, Wednesday turns to me. “The greenhouse is managed by Professor Thornhill. Many people like to spend time here, but only a few truly understand the lethal potential of what grows here.”

I nod, a little intrigued and a little unsettled. The air is thick with intense scents, some sweet, others sharp, but all decidedly... strange.

Wednesday doesn’t linger longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” she says, quickly exiting as if the greenhouse is just one of many stops of the day.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, we arrive at the Nevermore gymnasium. We enter, and the atmosphere changes dramatically. The room is vast and well-lit, with walls adorned with ancient swords and shields, and fencing equipment neatly arranged. Some students are engaged in intense fencing sessions, maneuvering their swords with extraordinary skill, while others are working out with exercises that combine agility and strength in almost supernatural ways.

“The gym,” Wednesday says with a tone that reveals her disinterest. “Here many seek to refine their combat and fencing skills. It’s a place of competition and discipline. Personally, I prefer to exercise the mind rather than the body. However, if you like the idea of facing others in duels and tests of strength, this is the place.”

I watch the students training fervently, their swords glinting under the fluorescent lights, and the fluid and precise movements of their techniques. It seems like a dynamic and competitive environment, very different from the other areas of the school.

Wednesday continues to walk, passing by the ongoing training. “It’s not my ideal environment, but every corner of Nevermore has its purpose,” she adds, casting a distracted glance at the room. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t seem like your kind of place. Many students feel at home here, but there are others who prefer different spaces to express their abilities.”

Although this part of the school is vibrant and full of energy, it’s not the kind of place where I would feel comfortable. But, as Wednesday says, every place has its role, and Nevermore seems to have a spot for every type of person.

Wednesday gestures for me to follow her again, and we head toward another room. As we enter, the smell of food immediately hits us. The large space is crowded with students talking among themselves as they line up to get food or sit at long tables.

“The cafeteria,” Wednesday comments, observing the environment with an almost disgusted air. “Where the common people eat and socialize. If you’re lucky, you might find a quiet corner. But don’t expect much in terms of culinary quality.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her comment. The chaotic atmosphere of the cafeteria makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, but at least it’s warmer compared to the greenhouse and gym.

“We won’t stay here,” Wednesday says quickly, leading me out again. We move toward a quieter, more serene part of the school.

Wednesday guides me down the corridors of Nevermore, her pace steady and unyielding. “So, you’ve seen almost everything,” she says, breaking a silence that had only been interrupted by our footsteps. “If you have any other questions, now’s the time.”

Taking advantage of her openness, I ask, “I’ve noticed that everyone wears the purple uniform except for you. Why?”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow and gives me a scrutinizing look. “The purple uniforms are standard for all students at Nevermore. They represent a sense of belonging and uniformity. However, my black attire is a personal choice.”

Her answer seems a bit cryptic, so I continue probing. “But is there a specific reason you wear black? It’s not a rule, is it?”

Wednesday smiles slightly, an expression that could be interpreted as a kind of personal satisfaction. “Black is a manifestation of my style and preferences. It’s not so much a rebellion against norms as it is a statement of individuality.”

“I see,” I say, reflecting on her comment. “So it’s a conscious choice that reflects your personality.”

“Exactly,” Wednesday replies with a tone suggesting that the conversation might be closing there.

“Do you know where your room is?” Wednesday asks, raising her gaze with an impatient question.

I raise an eyebrow and reply with a subtle smile, “It’s practically yours.”

Wednesday looks at me with intensity, as if evaluating my answer. “I know, but I have to go somewhere else, and I’m not sure if you know how to get there.”

“I can find it,” I say calmly. “Thanks for the tour.”

As I look at her, I notice her eyes fixate on me with a penetrating intensity. I take a moment to observe her closely. Her figure is petite and slender, but she exudes a presence that fills the space around her. Her black hair is neatly styled in two braids that fall down her back. Her pale face is dotted with subtle freckles that seem to peek timidly above her nose and on her cheeks. These small details add an unexpected dimension to her austere beauty.

Her dark eyes are like two deep wells reflecting an eerie light, and her thin, well-groomed eyebrows accentuate her detached expression. She wears the black school uniform, which fits perfectly with her elegant figure and stern demeanor. Her movements are fluid and measured, imparting an aura of control and authority.

In her mind, I catch the thought: I don’t know if she’s reading, but this girl is really interesting. My cheeks involuntarily flush.

Wednesday, noticing my embarrassment, tilts her head slightly to the side and adds with a faint smile, She’s cute when she blushes

I try to look away and calm the redness on my face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. “Again, thanks for the tour,” I say, trying to keep my composure.

Wednesday gives a nod of approval and resumes walking, leaving me with thoughts about her words and the impression of how Nevermore can be both fascinating and enigmatic.

[reallyromealone]

Can i request Kaname Kuran x Pureblood Male Reader and reader is kaname's betrothed from birth. If you can you can put in more details but can it be an omegaverse please.

Title: mate oh my mate

Fandom: vampire knight

Characters: vampire knight cast

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Kaname x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, Omegaverse, Omega male reader, vampire reader, feeding, yuuki has rage

Notes:

Summary: reader is requested to attend cross academy by his mate and Yuuki is less than impressed

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Fiance?" Yuuki was confused, looking around the room while Kaname nodded, holding a photo of the Omega in question, a pure blood dressed in soft cremes "he will be joining the night class!" Cross cheered, trying to see the bright side of the newest student. "He knows the rules, I assume?" Zero grunted at the pure blood who gave him a barely veiled look of annoyance.

"He is fully aware"

Yuuki tried to hide the envy she felt towards the Omega... This was kanames mate...

A pure blood male Omega, probably trained to be the perfect mate for him.

"But there's no Omega dorms in the night class...?" Yuukis question was a thinly veiled argument and Kaname looked at her fondly, as if she were a little sister "we have already made the proper arrangements, his room will be across from mine" Kaname seemed quite pleased with his words, always a slightly smug with each sentence.

Yuuki just sat there before letting out a sigh and standing, storming out of the room.

Confusion swept the vampires face, cross and zero knowing exactly why she left "she had to learn eventually..." Zero mumbled and cross agreed.

Kaname decided he didn't want to pursue this drama, human drama wasn't really something he cared for before excusing himself, after all...

His mate should be here any moment.

-

(Name) Sat in the limo calmly, dressed in his new uniform while staring at the scenery curiously while the sun was setting. He had never been to a school, having been homeschooled prior but his alpha wanted him close, not liking the distance and limited time together. A ring sat on his finger, a beautiful ruby, surrounded by garnets... It reminded (name) of kanames eyes...

His alpha had such lovely eyes...

"We can see each other each day my kana..." (Name) Whispered, pleased with the concept of seeing his beloved once again after almost a month a part, the only commutation being letters; thank god Kaname left him scented objects. The school was truly something, the grand school peaking from the horizon and the trees barely hiding it "so this is where kana stays..." (Name) Was curious about the school, his staff told him roughly how it works...

-

Kaname could sense his mate before he even got on the grounds, the exhaustion of his beloved seeping into his skin, the distance had been taking a toll on him after all. (Name) Was asleep when the limo pulled up and Kaname wasted no time scooping him into his arms and wandering to the night class dorms, looking at the light of his life and hopefully he will be less exhausted after this nap...

(Name) Was usually quite more lively, the sun to his moon but it seems that the seperation had made him so tired... Poor thing. He barely acknowledged the night class while bringing (name) to his room, the Omega immediately snuggling into the blankets and taking in Kanames scent. Looking at his mate, Kaname felt relief and crouched before him "soon we will be out of here... I just have loose ends to tie up and you will be marked and we will go home..." He promised before getting up and walking towards the door, glancing back at the sleeping vampire.

It was hours before (name) woke, eyes snapping open and looking around the unfamiliar room and sniffing... "Starving..." He whispered, wanting nothing more than his alpha to be here so he could pin him down and enjoy what he's been deprived of. Stepping out of the room he looked around with a slouch, Senri the first to notice him and alert the rest of the night class and subsequently Kaname.

"Where is he?" (Name) Said slowly, hungry and frankly not in the mood for any games of any sort "he's in the gardens... He will return soon" Senri spoke softly and (name) just stared before wandering off.

"I just don't understand! Why can't it be me?!" A voice called out and Kanames voice could be heard almost exasperated "Yuuki, I love you but not in the way you want... You're my sister and that will never change but (name) is my mate" Kaname explained to his sister who sobbed angrily "but I love you!"

"But I don't love you"

And at that moment, Yuuki Kuran broke.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she ran off and Kaname kept composure before turning towards his mate "hello my love..." Exhaustion evident in his voice and (name) wandered towards him "she had to learn eventually..." (Name) Reached towards him and gently traced his face and Kaname rested his head in his mates hand.

The two walked back into the dorms and up to kanames room, the Alpha offering his neck to his beloved who Kissed his pulse lovingly before biting in, starved of his mates blood. Kaname gently rubbed his hips and ass, letting his beloved take what he needed before pulling back and snuggling into him "are you hungry alpha?" (Name)s voice content and dream-like and Kaname simply kissed the blood from his lips "I'll feed later, for now we have much to discuss, no?"

(Name) Was graceful and elegant, arm linked with Kanames while students looked on in awe at the Omega with an ornate engagement collar, (name) nodding kindly to the fellow omegas in the school in an act of omega-omega kindness, no matter the hierarchy it was seen as an equal understanding to one another and safety in numbers.

Even if he was a vampire, it was nice to have fellow omegas.

"So why are you attending this school... You received your education" (name) asked while they walked to the headmasters office and Kaname hummed "to keep an eye on my sister, I worry for her and she's attached to a specific human... After the Rido situation... I don't want to risk it"

"Reasonable"

(Name) Was curious while sitting beside Kaname, the headmaster and an obvious hunter "thank you for coming here (name)" cross smiled and (name) nodded politely, looking towards Kaname who nodded "vampiric tradition requires the Omega to have approval before talking to an unknown alpha, as I am required to gain approval before talking to unknown omegas"

"I see, well (name) if there's anything you need here to make your transition smoother please don't hesitate to ask" cross said kindly and yagari glared at the Omega "and one slip up and it's curtains, do you understand me?" His voice stern and (name) nodded calmly "if I find out you fed on any student you will be executed"

"I can only feed from my alpha or those pills you gave me... " (Name) Spoke softly and cross looked confused "vampiric mates can only feed off each other, they don't have claim marks but the rules would still apply for them" yagari explained, already tired of this conversation and (name) was pleased the hunter understood.

"Well regardless, we hope you feel safe and welcome"

"Thank you, sir Cross..." (Name) Spoke kindly before leaving with his mate.

"Now let's hope yuuki doesn't cause problems" cross mumbled, leaning back into his chair.

[jmkjournalblog]

"Soulmates" Part 1

Part 2

Pairing:Wednesday Addams x FemVampire! Reader

Summary: The Fem!reader, vampire with a penchant for dark humor and psychopathic tendencies, is sent to Nevermore Academy by her parents following an unpleasant incident involving the murder of a couple of triple students in her previous school. Despite their contrasting personalities, the reader and Wednesday form a complex bond, navigating their differences while facing challenges that threaten to keep them apart.

A/N: This text combines three chapters written at different times, so there might be slight differences in style. Also, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes))

Warnings: Shitty humor

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

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the picturesque town. It was a quaint, almost idyllic place, with its cobblestone streets and charming old buildings—a far cry from the darkness that lurked within the reader's soul. She stood at the edge of town, a lone figure amidst the bustle of the afternoon crowd. Tall and imposing, with an air of quiet confidence that set her apart from the ordinary townsfolk, she surveyed her surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

The Y/n was not here by choice. No, she had been sent—a pawn in a game she had no desire to play. Her parents, in their infinite wisdom—or perhaps, their utter lack thereof—had deemed it necessary to exile her to Nevermore Academy, a school for misfits and outcasts. It was a punishment disguised as a solution, a way to rid themselves of a daughter whose darkness they could no longer abide.

And so, here she was, alone in a town that reeked of desperation and decay, a stranger in a strange land. It was a bitter irony, she thought, that a creature such as herself—a creature of the night, born to roam the shadows—should find herself so utterly exposed in the harsh light of day. But she was not one to dwell on self-pity, nor was she inclined to mourn the loss of a home she had long outgrown. No, she would embrace this new chapter of her existence with the same ferocity that she embraced life itself.

With a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes, the Y/n turned her gaze towards the looming silhouette of Nevermore Academy, its spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a long-forgotten deity. And as she took her first steps towards her new prison, she couldn't help but wonder what twisted fate awaited her within its hallowed halls.

*Y/n POV*

As I stepped into the imposing entrance hall of Nevermore Academy, I was greeted by the sight of a young girl. She was dressed in the school uniform, her blond hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she approached with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Welcome to Nevermore Academy," she said with a wry smile, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Enid Sinclair. And you must be the new arrival."

I nodded, returning her handshake. Enid's warmth and charm were a welcome contrast to the oppressive atmosphere that hung me like a shroud.

"Nice to meet you," I replied with a forced smile. There's no point in being rude, this school is my last resort, and it's better to try to be nicer to people. "I must admit, I wasn't sure if anyone would meet me."

" I always give a tour of the school to new students, especially since you will be my roommate." A smile spread across her face. God, I wish I could be as carefree "It's going to be so much fun, you, me and Wednesday are three new best friends".

Three best friends? Well, that's one way to look at it—a trio of misfits ready to conquer the world, or at least survive sharing a room.

"Wow, lucky me," I muttered inwardly, plastering on a grin that probably looked more like a grimace. "I've always wanted to be part of a trio. How did you know?" 

I forced another polite smile, masking my inner cynicism with practiced ease. "Okay, we can't stand here all day. Let's go. "

After walking around all the main areas of the school, Enid and I headed towards our room. The whole time we were walking, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place was definitely going to be interesting. Enid had her own issues, but I'd always been attracted to people who looked at the world with an unhealthy amount of optimism. Talking to her should dilute my morbid thoughts with a touch of sweet idiocy. For being alone with myself again does me no good, though it gives me a lot of pleasure.

“So, roomie, ready to see your new abode?” - Enid said with a smile, her hand resting on the doorknob. With a casual shrug, I followed her into the room.

A huge room greeted us, with beds on both sides. The left side was a riot of colors, what I would call “colorblind worst nightmare” It was a cacophony of hues that defied description. Plush toys adorned one wall. Well at least it is not dakimakura with half-naked characters from anime or furi costumes. On the other side of the room, the atmosphere was stark—black linens on the bed, a desk, and a typewriter. Its practically untouched. It felt more like a museum piece than a living space, devoid of any trace of personality. Enid had mentioned that the other girl had only recently moved in…

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY ROOM ROOM?” – Enid asked in irritation.

Her voice startling me out of my thoughts. Distractedly looking around the room, I completely missed the girl who was tearing off colored stickers from the right half of the huge window. It must be Wednesday.

“Dividing our room equally,” replied Wednesday, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked the last of the colored paper to Enid's side for emphasis. "It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side." She finished in a calm tone, as she returned to the desk at her side of the room.

God, I love drama.

“I...” I could literally see Enid's ears steaming right now.

“Silence would be appreciated.” Wednesday spoke as she quickly cut her roommate off. "This is my writing time."

I like this school already.

“Your writing time ? ” Enid asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wednesday rolled up her sleeves as she situated herself in front of her typewriter. “I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same your vlog might be coherent.” she slides the carriage of the typewriter to the side as she continued, “I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation.”

She read serial killer diaries? One point to the goth girl.

Enid clenched her fists “I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love.”

“Your followers are clearly imbeciles.” Wednesday stood up from her desk as she moved infront of Enid. “They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures.”

“Uh, you mean emoji's?” a small smile appears on Enid face “It's how people express their feelings. I realize that's a foreign concept to you.”

“When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole.” She continues “By the way, there are two D's in Addams." she moved back over to her desk. “If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly.”

“Ahem”- as much as I'd love for this delightful show to continue, I can't just stand there like an idiot with things to do. I could certainly settle down nicely on my suitcase to brew some coffee and continue watching this wonderful drama, but I think sooner or later they'll notice me.

“Oh, sorry about that please, I'm just not used to this attitude. Wednesday, meet Y/n. She's going to live with us too.”

“That's okay, Enid, you can continue this lovely conversation, very intriguing actually. All I need to do is put my things somewhere and ideally lie down myself. The long drive and the splendid but somewhat drawn-out tour, has tired me out.”

Wednesday turned to me. “Nice to meet you, now if you'll excuse it’s my writing time,” she said, before turning back to her typewriter. She began methodically tapping the keys of her typewriter.

I smiled to myself, amused by the interaction. These two were definitely something else.

“Ms. Thornhill has decided that your bed will be on Wednesday's side, there's more room and the closet is close by. Bed should be arriving soon, but in the meantime, you can lay out your things, the outer two doors are yours.”

“Got it, okay then, that's what I'll do for now.”

Taking the suitcase in my hands I headed over to the closet, starting to put things away. I've always had a problem with this, not that I don't like it on the contrary, pedantically folding shirt to shirt, pants to pants, has always calmed me down. Things in the closet should look like they're on the counter of a boutique. If something doesn't look right, I can't sleep well.

Enid put on a song. I guess this is another one of God's tests for all the sins I've done. Don't get me wrong, I like music, but on rare occasions. People who play it on a regular basis to soundtrack their daily routine are the real psychopaths.

“Turn it off!” Wednesday gets up from her chair and heads over to Enid.

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the exchange. It was moments like this that made me grateful for immortality. Trying not to attract attention, I peeked out from behind the locker door, amused by the unfolding drama.

“This is your final warning!”

As she got too close Enid raised her hands and let out her rainbow painted nails out a claw. “Don't mess with me. This kitty’s got claws and I’m not afraid to use them.”

Suddenly the door swings open and a woman walks into the room.

“Good evening girls.” She looks around the room throwing a glance first at me and then at Wednesday. “I wanted to make sure that Wednesday and Y/n was settling in...”

She walks to the middle of the room, kicking up mud from her shoes on the wooden floor…. It drives me insane.

“I’m Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived. I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome.”

“She's been smothering us with hospitality, I hope to return the favor. In her sleep”.

Such unconcealed aggression, I like it.

“Enid did a great job of showing and telling me everything, thank her so much, and it's nice to meet you,” I interjected, wanting to move the conversation along.

Ms. Thornhill turned to me, offering a warm smile. “I'm very glad it went well.”

“The only thing I would like to ask about is the bed. I wouldn't really want to sleep on the floor on the first day in such a beautiful place. It would have dampened all the excitement I got out of today.”

“Oh right, the guys were supposed to bring it, but it looks like they're running late. I'll have to find them again and tell them.”

At this rate, I was going to sleep on the floor tonight.

“Ms. Thornhill, why do we need the guys? Why don't you just show me where to get it, and I'll take it from there? I think I'm strong enough to do that,” I replied with a sweet smile.

She looked at me in disbelief. I smiled a little, letting her catch a glimpse of my fangs.

“Ah, okay, I didn't realize right away. Not all vampires who are in this school have abilities such as strength or speed, so...Let's go,” she said, turning around and heading for the door. I followed her, casting a disdainful glance at the dirt left on the floor.

Who even does things like that?

Y/n POV

The walk with Ms. Thornhill was uneventful, except for her curious glances, which I pretended not to notice. She seemed… overly friendly, and her cheery disposition grated against every instinct I had. There was something unsettling in how her smile lingered just a bit too long. Still, I played the obedient new student—sweet smiles, polite nods, not even a hint of fangs. It wasn’t hard to find the storage area, cluttered with dusty furniture and half-forgotten relics from who knows how long ago. With little more than a gesture, I hefted the bedframe onto my shoulder, making it look far easier than it should have been.

As I walked back through the hallways of Nevermore, I couldn’t help but scan the dimly lit corridors and high arched ceilings. This place was dripping with history and secrets—I could practically taste it in the air. I wondered what kind of skeletons were hiding in these closets and whether any of them were literal. The thought amused me enough to crack a smile, which I quickly smothered when I caught sight of the door to our room.

Returning to find Enid attempting to cheerfully hang more decorations—and failing spectacularly in the face of Wednesday’s withering glares—was almost worth the trouble. Almost. I stepped into the room, set down the bedframe with a soft thud, and stretched slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh that earned me a sideways glance from both girls. I raised an eyebrow at Wednesday, who, naturally, looked unimpressed.

“You’re back,” she stated flatly, her attention already returning to the clack of typewriter keys. “I’d begun hoping you’d gotten lost and decided to stay that way.”

I grinned, leaning casually against the wall as I met her icy gaze. “Oh, did you miss me already, Wednesday? I’m touched.” I let my words drip with playful mockery, watching for her reaction.

She didn’t even pause her typing. “I don’t miss nuisances. They have a way of making themselves known whether one wishes it or not.”

“Well, it’s good to know I’ve made an impression,” I replied lightly, crossing my arms. “I do so hate being forgettable.”

There it was—a slight pause in her keystrokes. Barely perceptible, but I saw it. Victory. She resumed typing, but I could see the muscles in her jaw tense, and that alone was worth every ounce of effort. Behind me, Enid let out an exaggerated groan.

“Can you two not flirt for five minutes?” Enid asked, half-exasperated and half-amused as she tossed another garish pillow onto her bed.

“Flirting?” I said innocently, a hand coming to my chest. “Enid, I think you’ve misunderstood me. I was simply trying to have a civil conversation.”

“Your idea of civil conversation seems to involve needling people until they bleed,” Wednesday remarked coolly, finally glancing my way. “I’m sure you’re quite proud of yourself.”

“Oh, very,” I said, flashing a grin that showed just the hint of fang. “But I only needle people who are interesting. Take that as a compliment.”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a spark in her dark eyes. A dangerous, calculating spark. “Compliments from you hold about as much value as a counterfeit coin. Useless and possibly diseased.”

I tilted my head, letting my smile widen. “And yet you’ve pocketed it anyway.”

“Enough!” Enid interjected, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m already regretting my decision to be roommates with either of you.”

“I thought we were best friends, Enid?” I teased, giving her a mock-wounded look. She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

As the brief silence fell, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter, the clack of the keys resuming with renewed vigor. I moved to finish setting up my space, feeling her presence keenly even as she pretended, I didn’t exist. But I knew better. She’d noticed me, whether she liked it or not. And I intended to keep it that way.

I focused on arranging the few belongings I had, keeping one eye on my two roommates. Enid flitted around, determined to keep the atmosphere upbeat despite the thickening tension, while Wednesday remained stoic, her fingers tapping out words with relentless precision. The mechanical clatter of the typewriter filled the room, a fitting soundtrack to our peculiar dynamic.

As I stowed the last of my clothes, I moved to the shared windowsill. Half of it, Wednesday’s half, was bare and colorless, just like the rest of her side. I dragged a finger across the divider she’d drawn—black tape down the middle, stark and deliberate. When she’d divided the room, she hadn’t left any margin for negotiation. That was fine. I wasn’t one to negotiate either.

“Did you choose the décor yourself?” I asked, tone light but teasing. “It really says a lot about you.”

The typewriter stopped mid-sentence, and her head turned, her expression a mask of cold detachment. “If by ‘a lot’ you mean ‘nothing,’ then you are correct. My surroundings reflect my disregard for frivolity.”

I leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed, giving her a slow once-over. “Yes, I see that. Stark, somber, a touch of morbidity… What’s next, Wednesday? Iron bars over your window? A ‘keep out’ sign? Or is this already your version of a welcome mat?”

“Those who need signs to warn them of danger are already too foolish to avoid it,” she retorted, her voice like ice. She didn’t look away, and I felt the weight of her attention settle on me like a dare.

“Danger? That sounds intriguing.” I stepped closer, deliberately closing the space between us. “But I’d rather find out for myself than take your word for it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she’d lash out. Instead, she simply pushed her chair back with a quiet scrape and stood. “Are you always this insufferable?” she asked, stepping closer herself. We were nearly face-to-face now, her glare as sharp as a blade.

“Only when I’m provoked,” I said, my voice softening, the challenge in it unmistakable. “Or intrigued.”

For a heartbeat, I thought she might reach for one of her knives. It wouldn’t have surprised me. But then she stepped back, and the flicker of emotion was gone, replaced by a cold, composed exterior. “Intrigue is a fleeting distraction. You’ll tire of it soon enough.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” I murmured, watching her turn her back to me and return to her typewriter. I had to give it to her; she was disciplined. She’d withdrawn from the confrontation as if it hadn’t fazed her, as if the moment hadn’t happened. But it had.

Enid broke the silence, plopping down onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. “Why can’t we all just get along? Isn’t this supposed to be like… the beginning of a beautiful friendship?”

“I don’t recall asking for friendship,” Wednesday replied without looking up.

“And I don’t recall rejecting it,” I added with a smirk, earning a scoff from Wednesday.

“See?” Enid grinned, ever the optimist. “Progress! I’m telling you, we’re going to be the best trio ever. Just give it time.”

“Optimism is a fool’s currency,” Wednesday stated, resuming her typing. “It’s usually spent too freely and leaves the owner penniless.”

“Good thing I have plenty to spare,” Enid shot back, unfazed. She turned to me. “Y/n, you’ll see. She’s all doom and gloom now, but she’ll warm up eventually.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I said, letting the implication linger. “Though I have to admit, I like her just the way she is.”

Wednesday’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second, and my grin widened. There it was again—the tell that she was paying attention, even if she pretended otherwise.

Enid reached for her phone, likely ready to drown out the tension with music or social media, but she paused, her expression curious. “So, Y/n… what brought you to Nevermore?”

“Exile,” I said simply, my voice taking on a darker edge. “I’m here because my family thought it would be safer to have me… away.”

Enid blinked, unsure whether I was joking. “Safer for who?”

“Exactly.” I allowed a flicker of my fangs to show, then shrugged. “But this place isn’t so bad. It might even grow on me.”

“It’s full of disappointments,” Wednesday said coolly, not missing a beat. “Don’t let the shadows fool you.”

“Disappointments keep things interesting,” I replied, stepping back toward my side of the room. “And I’ve always been drawn to interesting things.”

I felt her eyes on me even after she turned back to her writing. This was going to be fun. Dangerous, maybe—but undeniably fun.

The next morning, the air was crisp, and a thin layer of fog crept around the gothic towers of Nevermore Academy. I found myself sitting on the edge of my freshly delivered bed, lacing up my boots. The rest of the room was quiet, but I could feel a watchful presence. Turning slightly, I caught Wednesday’s reflection in the mirror; she was silently observing me while pretending to prepare her things. Her eyes were intense as ever, like she was sizing me up, waiting for me to make the first move. It amused me, and I made no effort to hide my grin.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I teased, breaking the tension in the room.

She blinked, a slow, deliberate motion that barely disguised her disdain. “Please spare me your nauseating pleasantries.”

“Why, Wednesday, it almost sounds like you didn’t sleep well.” I stood, stretching. “I’d say I’m hurt by that, but I do recall you typing well into the night. Plotting murder, perhaps?”

“If I were plotting murder, you wouldn’t have woken up,” she replied with a deadpan expression.

I laughed softly, loving how quick she was. “Noted. I’ll try to be more deserving of your mercy.” I leaned closer as I passed her on the way to the door. “For now.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she muttered, though there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she was far from indifferent. Oh, this was definitely going to be an interesting place.

The hallway was bustling with other students, each an oddity in their own right—shapeshifters, psychics, sirens, and more. I navigated the throng with ease, catching glimpses of curious eyes that lingered just a moment too long. Whispers followed me. New arrivals always attracted attention, and I wasn’t exactly the type to blend in.

“Y/n!” Enid’s cheery voice pierced the noise, and she bounded over like a hyperactive puppy, practically glowing with excitement. “How did you sleep? Oh! You’re going to love breakfast here—it’s the best part of the day!”

“I’m surprised you managed to sleep at all with the ambiance,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I half-expected bats to swoop down from the rafters.

“Oh, they’ve tried.” She shrugged with a wide smile. “But seriously, come on! The sausages are to die for.”

I followed her, letting Enid’s chatter wash over me. She was like a rainbow in this dreary place, and, strangely, I found her optimism a welcome contrast. Wednesday walked a few steps behind us, silent and brooding as ever. It was almost comforting.

The cafeteria was a storm of voices, laughter, and clinking trays. Enid led me through the throng of students, her energy a stark contrast to the brooding architecture of Nevermore. We found a spot at a small table near one of the tall, stained-glass windows. As I settled in, a presence made itself known—a girl with sleek black hair, crimson-tinted sunglasses, and a confident air that turned heads without effort. She walked up, holding her tray like she owned the place.

“Mind if I join?” she asked, but it was rhetorical. She was already sitting down, her eyes on me.

Enid perked up. “Oh! Y/n, this is Yoko Tanaka. Yoko, meet Y/n. She’s new.”

“Yoko,” I repeated, my gaze trailing over her with casual interest. I extended a hand, playing along. “Nice to meet you.”

Her grip was cool, steady. She didn’t let go right away, and her lips curled into a smile. “The pleasure’s all mine. So, Enid’s newest roommate, huh? Welcome to the madhouse.”

I returned her smile, undeterred by the playful challenge in her tone. “Thanks. From what I’ve seen, I’m going to fit right in.”

“Really?” Yoko’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. “It takes a lot to fit in here. But something tells me you’ll manage.” She tilted her head slightly. “You’re not... ordinary, are you?”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I might,” she replied, the light catching the edge of her sunglasses. “Most newcomers are easy to read. But you? You’re a little... more.”

Wednesday, who had been quietly picking at her food, suddenly spoke up. “If you two are done exchanging veiled flirtations, there are more important matters at hand.”

I turned my gaze to her, a smirk playing on my lips. “You know, Wednesday, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“Jealousy is a pointless emotion,” she said flatly, though her eyes seemed to darken. “I simply despise wasted time.”

“Oh, so you’d rather spend your time... constructively?” I asked, feigning deep interest. “Writing your next bestseller or analyzing the cafeteria’s murder statistics?”

She set her fork down with deliberate precision. “Both. I find productivity in all things. Unlike some people who waste their breath on hollow banter.”

“See?” I leaned forward conspiratorially, turning to Yoko. “This is what I get for trying to lighten the mood.”

Yoko laughed, a rich, throaty sound that drew a few glances. “You two are something. But don’t worry—I enjoy the kind of banter that makes the daylight hours less boring.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, deciding to prod a little. “To liven things up for me?”

She pushed her sunglasses up, revealing striking eyes that glimmered with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure you out. Vampires don’t often get surprises, you know.”

“Vampires?” I arched an eyebrow, pretending not to know. “Is that what we’re calling ourselves these days?”

Enid jumped in with a cheerful clap of her hands. “Y/n’s also a vampire, Yoko! You two should totally hang out. Maybe you can teach her the ropes!”

Yoko’s smile widened, showing a hint of fang. “Oh, I’d be delighted. As long as she doesn’t get scared too easily.”

I matched her smile, unflinching. “Scared? That’s not really my thing.”

“Good.” Yoko’s voice dropped, her gaze sharpening. “Because there are plenty of things in Nevermore that will test your limits. I’d hate for you to miss out.”

Before I could respond, Wednesday stood up abruptly, gathering her tray. “This conversation has officially crossed into drivel. Some of us have standards.”

“Leaving already?” I asked, enjoying the way her expression never wavered.

“Unlike you, I have productive tasks awaiting me.” She paused, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Try not to lower the collective intelligence of the room while I’m gone.”

I grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

She left without another word, and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a hint of amusement hidden beneath her icy exterior. Yoko watched her go, then turned back to me, a knowing look on her face. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Good,” I replied. “I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”

[delicatebarness]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏 | 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: At Velmythria Academy, among creatures much larger and more powerful than yourself, you unexpectedly cross paths with the imposing werewolf– Bucky Barnes. Leaving you questioning the rules of the realm.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Forbidden Relationships | Size Difference | Tension | Societal Restrictions | Small Physical Contact

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 871

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭: Ko-FI | Instagram | Personal Blog | Pinterest

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐀/𝐍: Thank you all for taking an interest in this idea, I really hope I've done it justice! Also, I just added everyone to the tag list but of course, if you don't wish to be tagged in further parts, please let me know! - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - Bethiee x

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧: @nash-dara | @bvckys-doll | @minamin210 | @nerd-without-a-cause | @bo0mccc | @curlycow01 | @bucky-baby-barnes | @sebastians-love | @pattiemac1 | @mystery122577-blog | @bejeweledcowboyy | @waywardalpacaoctopus | @asha-rahiro | @calwitch | @w0nd3rlnd | @sidraaaaaaaaa | @buckycuddles | @chimchoom | @danzer8705 | @foulpersonahandsvoid | @mcira | @queergalpal97 | @bucky-baby-barnes

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

The grand halls of Velmythria Academy felt a little too vast for someone your size, the marble walls etched with ancient runes towered over you. A faint light pulsing from them. Velmythria– a place for all creatures, including those far bigger and fiercer than you, had been your home since birth. Born an earth fairy, your wings shimmer a soft emerald green upon your small frame, and you were the smallest of the fairy kind. 

     You effortlessly glided through the hallways, slipping between the Vampires, Sirens, Giants, and other creatures crowding. However, something felt different in the air that day. 

     Pushing the heavy wooden door, your wings fluttered slightly as you entered the ‘History of Velmythria Creatures’ class. Rows of seats climbed high up the walls, an enchantment casting over them to accommodate each student– The varied sizes, and needs of all. You had always enjoyed this class, hearing the tales of the ancient realms, the forgotten wars, and the lost creatures you only knew as myths. The classroom buzzed with recognizable languages, guttural growls, and other higher-pitched chirping.

     And then there he sat– Bucky Barnes.

     He took up almost the entire back row, the chairs although enchanted, were made to look laughably small against his broad frame. The werewolf stood seven feet tall and ran as the alpha of the Academy’s resident wolf pack. His thick, unruled hair seemed to have a mind of its own, and his blue eyes pierced as they scanned the room. The weight of which could make even the most confident of creatures uncomfortably shift in their chairs. 

     Your wings fluttered as you searched for a spot, every seat feeling impossibly large until you spotted an empty chair. Second from the back, just a row down from Bucky. The sight of him was enough for you to pause. As he sat slumped in his seat, the fabric of his shirt stretched over his shoulders. His elbows propped on the desk, large hands that were no match for the delicate stationery the academy provided. 

     His presence was impossible to ignore, yet you have never spoken to him. He was always in the background, silently commanding attention. 

     You settled into the seat before him with a soft breath, closer to him than you’d usually dare to be. The air around you thickened as you sat, trying to ignore the heavy and lively charge surrounding you and focus on retrieving your notebooks and pens. 

     The professor’s scales shimmered under the dim lights, an ancient dragon shifter, as the lecture began. The topic of the day was written across the chalkboard: Forbidden Bonds. A subject you’ve always found fascinating. Although, it was hard to focus, especially with the warmth radiating from the wolf behind you, making you hyper-aware of the space between you.

     As the lecture progressed further into the topic, a faint crack echoed in the air. Glancing back toward him, you were just in time to see the pen snap within his heavy grip. His brows furrowed in frustration, staring down at the broken plastic. Without a second thought, you reached into your pencil case, pulling out another one of your opens. 

     Carefully you slide the pen– a small, woodland-themed one with illustrated mushrooms printed on the sides towards him. A strange shiver shot up your spine as your fingers brushed against his. His skin was callous yet warm, and in that moment, you heard him– a rumble, low and deep within his chest. Barely audible, it was almost a growl catching in his throat causing your wings to twitch into a flutter.

     His attention shifted, his gaze heavy on you as you dared not to look. There was a long pause, neither one of you moving. But then, slowly, he took the pen, thick fingers holding it like it was fragile. You watched out of the corner of your eye, him testing the pen by scribbling a few lines on his paper. It looked almost absurd, his large hand accompanied by the cutesy design, and yet he did not comment. He simply just… used it.

     Trying to refocus on the lecture, you couldn’t help but notice the pounding of your heart against your chest. Your thought drifted back to that brief moment of contact, and the way his quiet rumble vibrated through your entire body. His concentration was unwavering, yet from the small glimpses you caught, his grip was more careful now. It was as if he was being conscious of his own strength. 

     You wondered if he had noticed, sensed, how flustered you were. However, as the professor brought the lecture to an end, Bucky stood. Pocketing the mushroom pen without a word and began leaving the classroom. He never looked back at you, but the weight of his large looming presence lingered around you. And, it wasn’t until you heard his heavy footsteps fade away down the hallways that you finally let out a breath. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding onto. 

     An inexplicable pull toward him unsettled you. How could one small, accidental brush of contact begin to stir something inside of you? It made you question the rules of the realm, and how unbreakable the boundaries between creatures could be.

---

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

[chanelrolls]

VAMPIRIC pt. 1

summary: in which you are a human disguised as a vampire, sent from a mission to bind the most powerful vampire in the academy of onychinus; the student council president, sylus. would you be able to successfully seduce him?

the hallways of onychinus academy stretched long and empty before you, bathed in the cold glow of the artificial moonlight that streamed through stained-glass windows. the campus was built like an ancient cathedral as gothic arches, high ceilings, and marble floors swallowed the sound of your footsteps. but despite the grandeur, the air carried an unnatural stillness, a reminder that this was a place not meant for humans. and yet, here you were, a human disguised as a vampire.

the weight of the documents in your arms is unbearable. not because they’re heavy—no, they’re just ink and paper, reports and letters stamped with the official seal of the student council. but they feel like stone, pressing into your ribs, making your breath hitch with every step you take down the dimly lit corridor.

the office is just ahead, its grand wooden doors standing ominous and untouched, where inside, the student council's president waits.

your target.

your hands tighten around the edges of the papers, knuckles paling. the thought alone is enough to make your pulse quicken, enough to send a quiet shiver creeping down your spine. he is the very reason you were sent here. to lure, to seduce, to bind him to you in an irreversible pact. and you… you were no vampire. only a human, who boldly played a dangerous game in a world that would sooner devour you than accept you.

but it’s your blood that makes you valuable. irresistible. a delicacy even among the most powerful.

the door creaks as you push it open with your shoulder, and immediately, the gravity of the room pulled down. sylus is there, sitting at his desk, long calloused fingers skimming over documents, ink staining his fingertips. the glow of the antique lamp casts sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow.

he doesn’t look up, he doesn't bother acknowledging your arrival.

yet you feel his presence curl around you like a whisper, a slow, creeping force that makes the room feel just a bit too small. you swallow, forcing your steps forward. you need to act normal. you need to maintain a semblance of composure before your plan crumbles into failure. you need to—

your foot catches on nothing, then... just then, the world tilts.

before you can even gasp, the stack of papers in your arms scatters, slipping through your fingers in a flurry of white. they spiral through the air, drifting like dying leaves before landing unceremoniously across the polished floor.

"how clumsy." his voice is low, smooth, etched with a domineering lilt that made your stomach twist.

slowly, your gaze lifts, and there he is. no longer occupied with his work, no longer pretending not to notice. dark red eyes settle on you, pinning you in place like an insect beneath glass.

"the new secretary, aren’t you?" sylus muses, rising from his chair. then he moves, akin to a predator who has all the time in the world.

you barely register the sharp inhale you take, the way your pulse betrays you.

he steps closer, the scent of aged books and something richer, something darker, lingers on him before he crouches down, fingers brushing against the scattered sheets, but his gaze never leaves yours.

"you should be more careful," he murmurs. "things have a habit of slipping through careless hands."

he isn’t talking about the papers.

you know that.

but you can’t move, can’t breathe, as he picks up a single sheet, holds it between two fingers, and offers it to you with a slow, knowing smirk. "here," he says.

your fingers tremble as you reach for it, as they hover just above the paper he holds, barely brushing the edge as you move to take it. but then, he does a visible pause, his gaze flickering downward, to settle on your hand.

you freeze as well. it’s only then that you notice the slow drop of crimson pooling at your fingertip, trailing down in a thin, glistening line before it falls. it was a small paper cut that you hadn't even felt nor noticed.

but he had, and he stared.

his dark lashes lower ever so slightly, his breath hitching in a way so imperceptible that if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t have caught it. but you did, and you feel an inevitable shift in the air, more so, an instinct.

and then, just as suddenly, he withdraws. "kindly put these on my worktable." the paper flutters from his fingers, landing soundlessly atop the scattered mess between you, but his focus is already elsewhere—no, not elsewhere. away from you. he unhurriedly turns, posture eerily composed as he returns to his desk without another word.

the room feels heavier now, tension clinging to the atmosphere like an unshed storm. but this… this is an opportunity, and you can’t let it slip away. so, as you gather the papers and arrange them aloft the long table, fingers working methodically, you steady your voice and ask, shy but intentional, "president… do you have any spare bandages?" you don’t look at him right away. you let the words settle, let them sink. because you know he’s listening. you know he felt it too.

the silence lingers between you two, taut and palpable, stretching for what feels like an eternity. you can feel his unwavering gaze cutting through the stillness, but you dare not look up. you know better than to break that invisible thread between you and him.

then, without a warning, sylus moves.

his steps echoed against the floorboards, approaching you with a slow, almost predatory grace. the space between you closes, narrowing until you can feel the heat of his presence wrapping around you. he stops just shy of invading your space, close enough for you to feel the faint embrace of his body heat on your skin, but not quite close enough to touch. "one might think you're offering something more than just papers today."

you want to flinch. you want to step back. but you stay still, forcing yourself to hold steady, forcing yourself to look up at him.

as his eyes drop to your hand, his gaze lingers, scanning it with a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. you feel it, the way his scrutiny seems to draw everything else in the room away. you try to steady your breathing, trying to keep your nerves at bay—

when he suddenly reaches for you.

his fingers encircle your wrist, but there's no force in his grip. just a steady hold, like he's measuring, and testing. it’s almost as if he’s enjoying the way your pulse quickens beneath his touch.

you dare not pull away, since the chance is laid bare across you now. he lifts your hand, bringing it closer to his eyes, studying the paper cut on your fingertip. you watch how he seems transfixed, how his gaze flickers over the small wound, noting the blood that drips slowly from the edge of the cut, and staining the tip of your finger. it has been dripping for a while now, but you hadn't realized how much blood had pooled there until he’s so close.

and then, something changes. his eyes flash, the briefest hint of hunger flickering in their depths, a pull that makes your heart race. you didn’t miss it. his vampiric instincts are stirring in a way that made you second-guess your choices. but before you can fully register it, before you can take any sort of advantage, he pulls back just a fraction.

he doesn’t give in.

instead, he presses his other thumb against the cut, deliberately, just enough to elicit a small jolt of pain from you. “you’ll have to try a little harder than that,” he murmurs, his voice laved with amusement, the kind that didn't play but mocked you.

your breath catches in your throat, the sting of the cut lingering in the air, but you don’t dare flinch. internally, you celebrate your victory of finally getting him to your bait, of finally succeeding with your long-lived plan of luring him into your trap, but there’s no time to savor it. before you can react, sylus does something that didn't really align with your objective.

his finger, slick with your blood, slowly rises in a theatrical way. when he brings it to your lips, your brows furrow. he doesn’t say a word. he doesn’t need to. the blood on his finger glistens in the dim light, as he presses it against your mouth. the touch is light and teasing, but beneath hid a challenging edge to it.

"wh—"

"prove it." you feel his finger further forcing its way in. "prove to me that i've misjudged you, secretary."

it should have been simple. the mission was laid out in clear, careful detail; slip into this university of vampires, blend in, draw the most powerful one into a contract. seduce, enthrall, bind. the strategy was crafted long before you even stepped foot onto these blood-stained halls.

yet, standing here, feeling the way sylus strips you bare without even entirely doing it, you wonder if you had underestimated him.

your research painted him as someone meticulous, a man who never spoke more than necessary, who kept himself untouchable, perched atop the council like an unshakable pillar. other students whispered his name with reverence and caution, muttering him as the kind of vampire who existed beyond the reach of fleeting whims and shallow distractions.

and yet, here he is, so very close, tilting the board in a way you hadn’t accounted for. he isn’t just unmoved by your ploys, but he’s also playing along, pressing into your hesitations, testing the very edges of your motive. his restraint isn’t disinterest, it’s something far crueler.

this was supposed to be a game you controlled. but now, standing in the space between hunter and hunted, you're no longer certain who’s leading the dance.

the tension in the air hangs thick, suffocating, as sylus watches you with an intimidating calm. his finger rests on your lips, a trace of blood smeared across the skin, and you can feel the weight of his gaze locking you in place. you know this moment—this game—has only just begun.

but you aren’t about to play by his rules.

with reluctant defiance, you take his wrist, your fingers curling around it with a swift motion, pulling his hand away from your lips. the pressure between you both intensifies, but this time, the challenge is yours. "i think you're the one who has to try a little harder in toying with me."

he pauses, his breath coming out of his lips, his voice lowering to almost a growl. "you think you have me figured out, don’t you?"

“you’re welcome to think that,” you quip, your voice even, despite the pounding of your heart. “but i'm not so easily dismissed.”

a faint, calculating smile curls at the edge of sylus’s mouth. he watches you, his gaze heavy and unnervingly still. “let's see how long that fire in you lasts, hm?” sylus drags his words, and you hold your ground, but before you can bite back, sylus finally pulls back. “enough of this,” he commands, “you have work to do. your real task, secretary.”

you meet his gaze one last time, your defiance still burning bright. but with a tilt of your head, you give a subtle nod. you may have played his game for a moment, but the battle isn’t over. not yet.

“consider it done, sir,” you reply, the words dripping with a mixture of mock respect and barely contained spite. you turn away from him, the unfinished tension lingering like a heavy fog, but you know you’ve only just begun to chip away at the walls sylus has so carefully built around himself.

this game is far from finished.

[vampireacademyshow]

🎄 On the 12th day till Christmas my true love gave to me 10 pictures of Sonya’s sweet beautiful actress Jonetta Kaiser 🎄

[pinkthick]

A Nocturne in Melody

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count:7976 (about 25 minutes reading time)

Summary: “You were extraordinary,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with awe. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with the same wonder he’d shown back when you’d played for him in your small, shared apartment for the first time. “I don’t think anyone could look away. You had the entire hall in the palm of your hand.”

Notes: Okay, I’m super nervous about how this turned out, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language, so if you spot any mistakes, I’m so sorry.😭 But you guys asked for a vampire AU so here it is.🦇

Warnings: Nonconsensual blood drinking, a little bit of violence

Masterlist: A Nocturne in Melody

Part 1

You stood in front of the mirror, hands pressed on either side of the little vanity, fingers just slightly trembling as you gazed at your reflection. The room was filled with a warm, golden glow from the single lamp on the dresser, casting soft light over your face. You were already dressed for the night in your performance outfit—a rich, dark fabric that felt both extravagant and grounding, hugging your form in just the right way. But looking at yourself now, it was hard to recognize the calm, confident person you had always hoped would stand here. Instead, nerves buzzed through you like electricity, racing in your veins and tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

Two hours until the performance.

Just as you took a deep breath, the familiar sound of Viktor’s footsteps creaked across the floorboards behind you. The comforting rhythm pulled a small, grateful smile from you. Viktor had always been able to ease your anxiety, even when you felt like your nerves were getting the best of you. He had been by your side through so much already—through every high and every low, through the days of playing in dimly lit bars where you’d strain to be heard over the clinking of glasses, and now, finally, for this night, the night you’d been dreaming of for so long.

“Are you alright?” His voice was soft, his accent a warm familiarity in a world that could often feel so overwhelming. Viktor moved to stand beside you, his gentle gaze studying you through the reflection. His eyes held that glimmer of quiet encouragement, the same look he’d given you so many times before, from when you’d first arrived in Piltover with him to those early, uncertain days at the Academy, to now.

You let out a shaky breath, glancing over at him in the mirror. “I’m… I don’t know, Vik. It just feels like… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I mess up? What if I don’t sound right? This is my one shot to actually play somewhere… somewhere important. I don’t want to ruin it.”

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding. “You’ve played in more difficult places, with far worse distractions. This? This is just… a room filled with people who came to hear the music. Nothing else.”

You bit your lip, still unsure. “It’s different this time. This isn’t just any performance. This is… this is the performance, Vik. And what if—what if something goes wrong?”

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “You’re going to be brilliant. Like you always are. You have no idea how many people are about to be captivated by you.”

You chuckled, trying to dispel the nerves. “And how would you know?”

“Because I know you. And I know that when you play, you become someone… extraordinary.” His words were laced with the quiet confidence that only Viktor seemed to have when it came to you. You wondered how he always seemed to have so much faith in you, more than you often had in yourself. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

Just as you were beginning to feel that comfort settle, Viktor let out a cough—a deep, rattling cough that shook his frame. You turned to him immediately, worry flashing across your face.

“Viktor, are you okay?”

He waved a hand dismissively, his other still clutching at his chest. “Yes, yes—it’s more annoying than anything. Don’t worry.” He tried to smile through it, but you could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the slight way his shoulders drooped from fatigue. Viktor had always been frail, even when you were children, but it seemed that lately, his health had been getting worse.

“Are you sure?” You placed a hand over his, concern clear in your eyes.

“I’m alright,” he insisted softly, his fingers lacing through yours. “Tonight is about you, not me. Don’t worry about this. You should be focusing on… this big night of yours.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, but you knew there was a truth to his weariness, one he rarely admitted aloud.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, hands entwined, the weight of both your worries lingering in the air. You took a deep breath, letting his presence soothe you, even though you were still worried about him.

He could see the concern in your gaze, and he tilted his head, lips pulling into a gentle smile. “I told you,” he murmured, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right there, watching you.”

You laughed softly. “You better. It would feel strange to be up there without knowing you’re out in the audience, ready to give me that silly thumbs-up you do.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And don’t think I’ll let you worry about me instead of enjoying yourself tonight.”

“But I always worry about you, Vik. You’re—well, you’re my everything.” The words slipped out before you could catch them, and you felt a faint blush warm your cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Everything?”

You laughed, swatting at his arm. “Don’t get all smug. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Oh, I do. And I’ll be reminding you of it every chance I get,” he teased, the corner of his mouth quirking into that familiar grin of his.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled away and tried to focus back on your reflection, adjusting your collar and smoothing out invisible wrinkles in your clothes. Viktor leaned against the doorframe, watching you quietly, the fondness in his gaze unmistakable.

“You know,” he said, after a moment of watching you fuss with your outfit, “I’ve always admired that about you. No matter how nervous you get, you never let it stop you. You go out there and do it anyway. It’s… inspiring.”

You turned to face him, struck by the sincerity in his voice. “Viktor…”

He smiled, that soft, quiet smile he wore just for you. “I mean it. You’re going to make an impact tonight, not just because of your music, but because of who you are. The world needs to hear what you have to offer. And tonight is just the beginning.”

Feeling a swell of emotion, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. He held you close, his head resting above yours, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. This moment felt perfect, even with all your nerves, even with the worry gnawing at the back of your mind about Viktor’s health.

Finally, you pulled back, taking a deep breath. “Alright, okay. I think… I think I’m ready. At least, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Viktor nodded, eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and encouragement. “That’s my girl.”

Just as you were about to speak, he coughed again, the sound harsh and jarring in the quiet room. You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, your concern flaring up once more.

“Viktor, maybe you shouldn’t come tonight. I mean, I would love to have you there, but if you’re not feeling well…”

He shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’d miss this.” His voice was resolute, though you could hear the strain in it. He gave you a reassuring smile, even though you could see the exhaustion tugging at the edges of his expression.

After a long pause, he took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Look… I know things have been hard. With my health, with… everything.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment. “But being with you, seeing you chase your dreams… it gives me hope. And tonight, you’re going to show the world who you really are. You’re going to shine brighter than anyone else in that room.”

Your heart tightened at his words, a mixture of love and sadness flooding through you. You knew he was fighting his own battles, battles he didn’t always share with you, but he was here, right beside you, lifting you up when you needed it most.

“Thank you, Viktor. For… for everything.” You whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

He gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with that unwavering warmth. “Anytime.”

Taking a final deep breath, you let his words ground you. You knew that no matter what happened tonight, Viktor would be there, your constant, your strength.

—

The energy backstage hummed with tension and excitement, performers and crew members rushing around in various states of preparation. You could feel the nervous buzz in your stomach intensify as the seconds ticked down, the final stretch before you would take the stage and pour yourself into the violin like never before.

You kept close to your crew, some of whom you’d been working with for months now, building camaraderie and trust through rehearsals, late nights, and shared dreams. Your ensemble would be joining you after the opening, but there was one critical difference tonight—a solo piece right in the beginning that would be yours alone, something you’d been working toward for as long as you could remember. And now, it was happening.

Trying to steady your breathing, you focused on the music, visualizing each note, each crescendo, letting it ground you. But even with that, the nerves remained, the weight of the night pressing down harder than ever.

Just then, one of your ensemble members, Claire, stepped beside you. She was tuning her violin, and the sound mingled with the other instruments tuning in the background. You’d never been particularly close with her; she was more reserved, almost aloof, often keeping to herself during practices. But she was talented—there was no denying that—and you’d always respected her for her skill.

“Are you doing okay, darling?”

Trying to make small talk to ease the tension, you murmured, “I’m just so nervous—”

“Why?” Claire’s tone was sharp, almost biting, and you looked up, surprised. “Because you know you don’t deserve it?”

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden hostility. “Excuse me?”

She didn’t bother to look at you as she continued tuning her instrument, her fingers moving with practiced ease. “Apparently, it helps to have a boyfriend who’s friends with one of the council’s members.” Her voice was laced with disdain, her words dripping with accusation.

You could feel your heart drop, a mixture of anger and hurt bubbling up in response. “What are you trying to say, Claire?”

She shrugged, casting a sidelong glance your way, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Just that some of us have been working our entire lives for a shot like this. And it’s a little convenient that you, of all people, suddenly get handed a solo spot. Especially when your… boyfriend has connections.” She said the word “boyfriend” like it left a sour taste in her mouth.

You felt your cheeks flush, both from embarrassment and frustration. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve worked just as hard as anyone here.”

“Maybe.” Claire gave a slight, dismissive tilt of her head. “But it’s just a little too easy, isn’t it? For you to show up here, playing in bars, and suddenly you’re front and center with a solo spot that should have gone to someone who’s actually earned it.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your voice steady. “I have earned it, Claire. Every step of the way. I practiced just as hard as you, worked just as long, and went through every audition like everyone else.”

Claire laughed softly, a sound that felt more like a slap in the face than anything else. “Keep telling yourself that. But you and I both know that without Viktor’s influence, you’d still be playing for drunks in some tavern on the outskirts.”

Anger flared in your chest, but more than that, her words cut deep. You had worked hard—endlessly, tirelessly, pushing yourself past your limits to reach this point. And yes, Viktor had been by your side, supporting you, encouraging you, but never once had he interfered in your career. He believed in you and wanted you to succeed, but he would never use his influence to sway things in your favor. And to hear Claire throw all that back in your face like this felt like a betrayal.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice firm, though your hands were still trembling. “This solo isn’t something Viktor handed to me. I got it because I deserved it.”

Claire finally looked at you fully, her eyes cold and challenging. “Deserved it? Really? That’s interesting, because a lot of us seem to think otherwise.” She leaned in, voice lowering to a hiss. “Enjoy the spotlight while you can, because people will see through you eventually.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to fire back. A scene backstage was the last thing you needed, especially tonight, of all nights. Instead, you forced yourself to turn away, ignoring the way Claire’s words lingered, gnawing at your thoughts.

You lifted your violin case onto a table and opened it, drawing out the familiar weight of the instrument. Just holding it in your hands eased some of the tension, grounding you. You adjusted the bow, glancing toward the stage door, where you’d soon step out and face the audience, every eye on you, waiting for the first note.

A soft voice beside you made you look up. It was one of the cellists, a quiet, kind man named Alain. He smiled gently, his gaze sympathetic. “Don’t let her get to you,” he murmured. “Anyone with any sense can see how talented you are. You’ve earned this.”

You gave him a grateful smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thanks, Alain. That… that means a lot.”

He nodded, patting your shoulder. “Just remember—you’ve got more people cheering for you than against you.”

The stage director waved you over, signaling that it was almost time. Alain gave you an encouraging nod before stepping back to let you focus. You took one last deep breath, then moved toward the stage door, positioning yourself for your entrance. The murmurs of the audience on the other side seemed to fade as you centered yourself, mentally running through the opening notes of your solo.

With a final look at the dim backstage area, you squared your shoulders, holding your violin and bow steady. You felt the soft pressure of the wood against your collarbone, grounding you, connecting you to the music you were about to play.

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. The world narrowed down to the single spotlight on the stage, waiting for you to step into it. You closed your eyes briefly, letting Viktor’s words settle in your mind one last time.

You’re going to shine.

With a final, calming breath, you stepped onto the stage, letting the applause wash over you as you took your position. You could barely make out the faces in the crowd, but you knew Viktor was there somewhere, watching you with that quiet pride. And for a moment, all the nerves melted away, replaced by the steady, familiar rhythm of your heartbeat.

You raised your bow, poised for the first note.

As your bow touched the strings, the first note pierced the silence, resonating through the hall. It felt like time slowed, the world narrowing down to the sound of your violin and the rhythm of your breath. The nerves, the doubts, the sting of Claire’s words—they all melted away, replaced by the sheer exhilaration of the music. Each note carried years of practice, of late nights, and of dreams you’d clung to when everything seemed too far away. This was everything you had worked for, and now it was happening.

As the solo flowed from your fingers, you opened your eyes for a fleeting moment and caught a glimpse of the audience. Row after row was filled, people rapt with attention. And there, nestled in the fourth row, was Viktor. His gaze was focused entirely on you, his expression proud and calm. For that brief moment, your eyes met, and you could feel his silent encouragement. It was as if he was right there beside you, grounding you, his unwavering support wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That one look from Viktor renewed your confidence, and you poured yourself even more deeply into the music. The notes filled the hall, flowing effortlessly as you surrendered to the melody. The violin felt like an extension of yourself, every stroke of the bow an expression of everything you wanted to say but never could. By the time the orchestra joined in, the sound swelled around you, lifting the piece to new heights. You let yourself get lost in the harmony, the layers of instruments weaving together into a tapestry of sound. It was beautiful—something beyond what words could capture.

As the last note lingered, the hall fell silent, a charged, expectant pause hanging in the air before the applause erupted, thunderous and relentless. You lowered your violin, heart racing, the echoes of the performance still buzzing through you. You took a bow, your heart swelling at the standing ovation that met you. For a moment, you felt like you could hardly breathe, overcome by the sheer intensity of it all.

When you finally left the stage, the backstage was a mix of bustling musicians and congratulatory voices. You stood there, letting it all sink in, a quiet smile on your face as the reality of what had just happened settled over you. It was a strange, surreal feeling—one part triumph, one part relief. You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring it, before a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, over here!”

Opening your eyes, you saw Viktor waving you over, his face lit with a grin. Jayce stood beside him, clapping with a mischievous grin as if to add a little extra to the applause you’d just left behind on stage.

You made your way over, the excitement still bubbling in you as Viktor pulled you into a warm hug, his embrace gentle yet grounding. You could feel the pride radiating from him, and it filled you with a sense of warmth and fulfillment that only he could bring.

“You were extraordinary,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with awe. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with the same wonder he’d shown back when you’d played for him in your small, shared apartment for the first time. “I don’t think anyone could look away. You had the entire hall in the palm of your hand.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, a laugh escaping you as you shook your head. “I… thank you. But honestly, it was as much your belief in me as anything else.”

Jayce laughed, clapping you on the back with a wide grin. “Not just belief. Pure talent. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages. Viktor wasn’t exaggerating when he told me how good you were.”

“Jayce, please, you’re embarrassing me,” Viktor teased, though his eyes sparkled with pride. He glanced at you, his expression softening. “It was… beyond words. You were more than I ever dreamed you could be up there.”

You reached for Viktor’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you, Vik. For everything. I don’t think I could have gotten here without you.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve always had this inside you. I just… helped you find a place to show it to the world.”

Just as you were about to respond, Jayce’s gaze wandered back toward the crowd exiting the theater, and his expression shifted to something a bit more serious. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know, you really should consider sharing your music more often. Maybe a few more performances? I think I might know some people who’d love to see you play again.”

You glanced at Viktor, who gave a small, encouraging nod. The idea of doing this more often, of finding more places to share your music, excited you. It was something you’d dreamed of, and now, it seemed more possible than ever.

“I… I’d love that,” you replied, smiling at Jayce. “Thank you.”

Jayce grinned, giving Viktor a nudge. “See, I told you she’d be a hit.”

Viktor laughed softly, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he turned back to you. “I think I already knew that. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

You laughed with him, feeling a warmth settle over you as Viktor held you close, his gaze never leaving yours. The moment felt perfect, and you could feel the weight of everything you’d overcome to reach this point slipping away, replaced by a quiet, steady joy.

But just as you were beginning to feel fully at ease, a piercing scream split through the air, cutting through the celebratory buzz of the crowd. The sound was sharp, filled with terror, and it silenced the laughter and murmured conversations around you. Everyone froze, their eyes wide as they looked toward the source of the scream.

The smile faded from Viktor’s face, and he looked at you, a flicker of worry in his gaze. Jayce’s expression hardened, his body tense as he scanned the room, eyes narrowing.

Another scream followed, closer this time, echoing through the hallway leading to the entrance of the theater.

The scream echoed through the air, sharp and bone-chilling, freezing everyone in place. For a split second, everything felt suspended. Then the doors burst open, and chaos erupted.

In the dim lighting near the entrance, you caught a flash of something terrifying—a figure moving too fast for human eyes to follow, leaving a trail of bodies in its wake. People screamed, scrambling for any exit they could reach, some tripping over one another in the frenzy to escape. It was like watching a nightmare unfold in real time. You recognized it immediately: a rogue vampire, one of the few who’d abandoned the code that kept them integrated with human society, choosing violence and terror instead.

Viktor tightened his hold on you, his face a mix of shock and fear. He met your gaze, his eyes wide, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Stay with me. We'll find a way out."

The crowd surged around you, pushing and pulling in every direction as the vampire tore through the panicked masses, relishing the fear and chaos it created. You clutched Viktor's arm, trying to keep your balance, but you could feel the force of the crowd pulling you both apart.

Viktor's grip on his cane tightened as he tried to keep up, his breathing ragged from the effort. But the throng of panicking people made every step more difficult, and you could see the strain in his face.

The surge of the crowd made it impossible to stay close, and you tried to hold onto his hand but it was useless. The crowd pushed you forward, separating you from Viktor as you were swept toward the exit. "Just go!" Viktor shouted, looking back at you with desperation. "I—I'll be fine! Just get out of here!" You turned back, searching the crowd for any glimpse of him, but it was impossible to see through the sea of bodies.

You pushed against the flow, desperately trying to get back to him, but the surge was too strong, and the fear in people’s faces reminded you of the danger closing in behind you. Then, just as you thought about trying to break through the throng again, you spotted a child—no more than six or seven—frozen in terror, her wide eyes fixed on the chaos around her. She stood alone, trembling, her face streaked with tears as she looked helplessly toward the exits that were now jammed with desperate people.

You could feel the panic gnawing at you, the need to find Viktor tugging at your heart, but you couldn’t leave the little girl alone in the midst of this horror. Her small frame was at risk of being trampled by the crowd, her frightened eyes darting from one screaming adult to another, unable to comprehend the danger around her.

Taking a deep breath, you fought against the tide of people, making your way toward the girl. "Hey!" you called, trying to get her attention. She turned, her tear-streaked face lighting up with a glimmer of hope as she saw you approaching.

You knelt down, forcing a calm smile despite the chaos around you. "It’s okay, sweetheart," you said softly, reaching out to her. "I’m going to get you out of here, all right? Can you take my hand?"

The girl nodded, her tiny hand slipping into yours, her grip surprisingly tight as she clung to you like a lifeline. You could feel her small fingers trembling, and you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Stay close to me, and don’t let go," you told her, giving her a quick smile. "We’ll be safe soon. Just keep your eyes on me."

Together, you tried to navigate through the chaos, weaving between panicked people and dodging those who shoved their way to the exits. You cast a quick glance back, hoping for a glimpse of Viktor, but all you saw was the sea of terrified faces, all rushing toward any available way out.

Behind you, the rogue vampire continued its rampage, a blur of dark movement in the corner of your vision. You could hear the inhuman snarls and the horrific sounds of screams being cut short, sending fresh waves of panic through the crowd. You knew you had to keep moving, but part of you wanted nothing more than to find Viktor and get him to safety. However, the little girl’s hand in yours kept you grounded, her frightened gaze fixed on you as if you were her only anchor in the storm of chaos.

You guided her through the crowd, but the further you went, the harder it became to move forward. People were frantic, shoving past you in every direction, and each step felt like a battle to keep your balance. At one point, you stumbled, nearly losing your grip on the girl’s hand, but she clung to you with surprising strength.

A sudden crash echoed from behind, and you glanced back just in time to see a row of seats go flying, thrown aside like toys by the vampire’s inhuman strength. The creature’s eyes gleamed with a sick delight as it scanned the crowd, seeking out anyone unfortunate enough to cross its path. You swallowed hard, realizing that you and the girl were still too close to the center of the chaos. If you didn’t find an exit soon, there was a very real chance you wouldn’t make it out.

You spotted a small side door, partially hidden behind a curtain, and steered the girl toward it. She looked up at you, her wide eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope as she followed your lead. But just as you reached the door, another wave of panicked people crashed into you, separating you from the child. You stumbled, reaching out to grab her, but she was swept a few feet away, lost in the chaos.

Heart pounding, you fought against the crowd, calling out to her. "Wait! Don’t move! I’m coming to get you!"

The girl looked back at you, her face pale with fear, but she nodded, ducking down behind a row of seats in a desperate attempt to stay hidden. You took a shaky breath, determination surging within you as you pushed your way forward, dodging people and debris as you made your way toward her hiding spot.

As you drew closer, you saw her peeking out from behind the seats, her small form huddled down as if trying to make herself invisible. Her wide, fearful eyes met yours, and she gave a tiny, trembling nod, as if pleading with you to come and take her to safety.

—

The screams and pounding footsteps made it almost impossible to focus, but Viktor kept pushing forward. Each step was agony without his cane, but he couldn’t stop, not when he knew you were somewhere out there. The crowd jostled him from every side, and he had to brace himself against a wall, clutching at his leg to keep himself upright. His cane had been knocked from his grasp in the chaos, and he felt the sting of its absence, each step sending a sharp pain up his leg.

He looked around, desperation clawing at him as he scanned the sea of faces, trying to find you. All he could think of was getting to you, making sure you were safe. His heart hammered in his chest, fear twisting his insides as he forced himself forward, determined to reach you.

Then, above the chaotic din, there was a sudden, deafening crash. Viktor’s heart skipped a beat as he turned, his eyes widening in horror. A massive statue had toppled over, smashing into the crowd. People screamed, some scrambling away, others lying motionless beneath the heavy stone. Viktor’s breath caught as he recognized a familiar figure trapped beneath the rubble. It was you.

You were pinned beneath the statue, one of your legs crushed under the weight. Your face was pale, your breaths shallow as you struggled to keep your composure despite the agony written across your features. Beside you was the little girl, tears streaming down her face as she tried, in vain, to push at the stone.

Viktor’s heart shattered at the sight. He limped forward, shoving through the crowd with all the strength he could muster, ignoring the pain that throbbed with each step. He had to reach you. Nothing else mattered.

“Oh my—” Viktor gasped as he finally reached your side, kneeling down beside you, his hands hovering over the statue as if willing it to move by sheer force of will. His face was etched with worry, his brow furrowed as he took in the sight of your crushed leg, the blood pooling around you. “No, no, this—”

You managed a weak smile, trying to keep him calm despite the agony you were in. “Viktor, you can’t lift it. Please… take the little girl and go.”

Viktor’s eyes met yours, a mixture of panic and stubborn resolve in his gaze. “I can’t leave you. Not like this.”

“Vik…” you said, your voice barely a whisper as the pain threatened to consume you. “The enforcers will be here. They’ll help me. But the girl… she needs you. Please, get her to safety.”

He shook his head, reaching out to take your hand, his grip trembling. “I can’t just leave you here. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

You could feel yourself getting weaker, the edges of your vision blurring as the blood loss took its toll. But you squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him even as your strength faded. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Just… go.”

Viktor’s jaw clenched, his eyes shining with tears as he looked between you and the terrified little girl by your side. He knew he had to do something, but leaving you felt like an impossibility. His heart was breaking at the thought, and he could see the desperation in your eyes, urging him to save the child.

The girl looked up at Viktor, her small hand clutching his sleeve as she tried to hold back her tears. “Please… don’t leave her,” she whispered, her voice quivering with fear.

Just then, a dark figure appeared, closing in on Viktor from behind—the rogue vampire, its eyes gleaming with malicious glee as it prowled closer, reveling in the despair and fear surrounding it. In an instant, you realized what was about to happen.

“Viktor!” you shouted, panic lacing your voice. “Behind you!”

Before Viktor could react, the vampire lunged forward, knocking him to the ground with brutal force. His body hit the stone floor with a harsh thud, and a flash of agony contorted his features as his hand hit the ground, fingers splaying out as he tried to steady himself. But before he could even attempt to push himself up, the vampire’s claws sank into his shoulders, pinning him in place.

“No!” The word tore from your throat in a ragged gasp, but it was too late, and your voice was barely a whisper over the noise around you. You tried to sit up, to reach him, but pain seared through your leg, stealing the strength from your body. You watched helplessly as the vampire leaned down, its eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.

With a swift, calculated movement, the vampire sank its fangs into his neck. Viktor’s mouth opened in a scream, his body tensing as pain wracked through him. His eyes were wide, horrified, as he realized the horror unfolding around him. He thought he’d be killed, that the vampire would drain his blood and leave him here, another victim of this nightmare.

But then the vampire’s gaze shifted, its expression shifting into something far darker, more sinister. It straightened, its fangs stained with Viktor’s blood, and it lifted its wrist to its mouth, biting into its own flesh until dark, thick blood welled up, dripping from the wound. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen, the cruel intention clear in the vampire’s eyes.

“No… no,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled against the vampire’s hold, his body weak and trembling from the blood loss. But the vampire only sneered, lowering its bleeding wrist toward Viktor’s mouth, the blood dripping onto his lips, staining them a deep, unnatural red.

Viktor clamped his mouth shut, desperately trying to resist, but the scent of the vampire’s blood was overwhelming, intoxicating. It was like a dark whisper, an ancient hunger clawing its way into his mind, demanding he surrender, that he let go of his humanity. His stomach twisted with revulsion, but the scent of the blood was everywhere, filling his senses, drowning him.

“Drink,” the vampire hissed, its voice a dark, hypnotic command. “You can’t resist it forever, human.”

Viktor clenched his jaw, trying to turn away, but the blood dripped past his lips, pooling on his tongue, and the taste… it was unlike anything he’d ever known. It was rich, powerful, and it filled him with a hunger so fierce it was like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His resistance crumbled as the need, the burning desire for more, overtook him.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to become a monster, to lose himself to the darkness, but he was losing control, his mind slipping as the hunger grew, overpowering every thought, every reason. His body moved of its own accord, his teeth sinking into the vampire’s wrist as if he were nothing more than a starving animal.

The taste of the blood was electric, searing through him like fire, and he drank deeply, his mind consumed by a primal need he couldn’t understand, let alone fight. Part of him screamed, begging him to stop, but the hunger was too powerful, too consuming. He wanted to stop, but his body refused to listen, driven by a need that was no longer human.

The vampire laughed, watching with satisfaction as Viktor gave in, as the last shred of resistance faded from his eyes, replaced by a desperate, feral hunger. Viktor’s hands gripped the vampire’s arm, pulling it closer as he drank, his body trembling as the blood filled him with an unnatural strength, a power that felt foreign and wrong, but irresistible.

The world around him faded, his thoughts growing hazy as the blood coursed through him, reshaping him, changing him. He felt his humanity slipping away, piece by piece, swallowed by the darkness that consumed him. And yet, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull away, even as he felt the horror of what he was becoming.

You watched in horror, your vision blurring as you tried to hold on, your heart breaking as you saw the man you loved losing himself to the darkness. But you were too weak, too close to the edge, and your body was betraying you. The world around you grew dim, the sounds fading to a distant echo as you slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing you saw being Viktor, lost in the vampire’s hold, his humanity slipping away with each desperate gulp of blood.

Viktor drank until he could no longer think, until he was nothing but hunger and need, his mind a twisted, broken version of itself. Then, finally, the vampire pulled its wrist away, a satisfied smirk on its face as it watched Viktor collapse to the ground, his body shivering as the last drops of blood settled within him.

Viktor’s vision was spinning, the world around him a haze of colors and shadows. He could feel the blood in his veins, burning like fire, filling him with a strength he hadn’t known, a power that felt both thrilling and terrifying. He tried to move, to get up, but his body refused to obey, too overwhelmed by the transformation raging within him.

As he lay there, the vampire leaned over him, its cold fingers tracing along his jaw with a sickeningly affectionate touch. “There now,” it murmured, almost lovingly. “You’re one of us now. You’ll learn to love it in time.”

But before it could say more, there was a sudden burst of light, a blinding flash that filled the room, and the vampire hissed, recoiling as the enforcers burst through the doors, weapons raised. Their guns were loaded with hex crystals that glowed with a fierce, deadly energy.

The vampire turned, snarling, its eyes blazing with fury as it prepared to attack. But the enforcers were faster, their weapons firing in unison, beams of energy slicing through the air. The vampire let out a piercing scream as the bullets struck its body, tearing through its flesh, burning with a light that was anathema to its dark nature.

It tried to fight, lashing out with desperate, wild swings, but the enforcers pressed forward, their weapons relentless, each shot weakening the creature until it could barely stand. Finally, with one last, agonized scream, the vampire fell, its body disintegrating into ashes.

Viktor lay there, gasping, his body still trembling as he struggled to process what had happened. The enforcers moved quickly, securing the area, but he barely noticed them, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. He could feel the changes within him, the lingering hunger, the strange, unnatural strength that pulsed through his veins.

And as he lay there, he looked at you and the little girl next to you.

—

Bright light pierced the darkness as you drifted back to consciousness. It was soft, filtered through closed curtains, but it was enough to make you squint. You could feel the sterile coolness of hospital sheets against your skin and hear the distant hum of machinery nearby. The dull ache in your leg quickly sharpened into an intense throb, pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You sucked in a breath, hissing through clenched teeth as pain clawed up from the injured limb.

“Easy now.” A familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind. Blinking against the light, you focused on the figure standing beside the bed—Jayce, looking tired and somewhat rumpled, as though he hadn’t slept well for days. Beside him was a doctor with a clipboard, whose serious gaze shifted between you and your chart.

“You’re… in the hospital,” Jayce explained, his voice softer than usual. “You’ve been here for a while, actually.”

You looked down, swallowing hard as your gaze settled on the cast covering most of your leg. The ache wasn’t going away anytime soon; it was sharp, almost burning, a reminder of the statue that had pinned you down in that nightmare. Trying to shift even a little was unbearable, so you stayed as still as possible, biting back the pain that flared with every tiny movement.

The doctor adjusted his glasses, looking at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “It’s a miracle we even managed to… save it,” he said carefully. “We had to perform multiple surgeries to stabilize the bones and repair the damage. But I have to be honest: your leg won’t fully heal. The injury was extensive.”

You forced yourself to take a steadying breath, though the doctor’s words hung heavily in the air. You’d known, on some level, that things were bad—pain like this didn’t come from a minor injury. But hearing the confirmation, realizing that your leg would never be the same, was still a hard truth to swallow.

“How long?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Jayce before replying. “You’ve been unconscious for about a week,” he said gently. “The trauma, combined with blood loss… it was touch and go for a while. But you’re here, and that’s what matters.”

You nodded numbly, too tired to process all of it at once. Instead, your mind latched onto the one thing that hadn’t left your thoughts since you’d woken up—the absence of a familiar voice, one you’d thought would be here with you.

“What happened to Viktor?” you asked, dread curling around each word as you forced yourself to look up at Jayce, searching his face for any hint of reassurance. “Is he… Is he all right?”

Jayce’s expression tightened, a flicker of something troubled passing over his face before he sighed, looking away as though gathering his thoughts. “Viktor’s… alive,” he said finally, his tone cautious. “But the situation is complicated.”

“What do you mean?” The pulse of worry surged into full-fledged fear, tightening your throat as you fought to keep your voice steady. “Where is he?”

Jayce hesitated before answering, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You know the protocols,” he said reluctantly. “After the attack, Viktor was transferred to a specialized facility—a containment unit. He’s being held there until they can determine… well, if he’ll be safe around humans.”

The words hit you like a blow, the sterile reality of it settling uncomfortably around you. A containment unit. As if Viktor were some kind of dangerous creature rather than the man you loved, the man who had been caught in the crossfire of that monstrous attack just as much as you had.

“But Viktor isn’t a threat,” you said, barely managing to keep your voice steady. “He didn’t ask for this. It was… forced on him.”

“I know,” Jayce replied, and there was genuine sympathy in his voice. “But the council, the enforcers—they have strict regulations. Anyone who’s been… transformed… has to be evaluated thoroughly to make sure they’re not a danger to society.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing as Jayce’s words sank in. “So he’s… he’s being kept in isolation?”

Jayce nodded, his gaze softening. “He’s been asking about you nonstop, every time I visit him. He’s worried—but he’s making progress.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the weight of everything that had happened settled heavily on your shoulders. The image of Viktor, alone and isolated, torn between his humanity and the dark hunger forced upon him… it was more than you could bear. You wanted to be there with him, to reassure him, to tell him that none of this was his fault. But you were trapped here, bound by the limits of your own body and the damage that had been done.

“How long do they plan to keep him there?” you asked, desperation leaking into your voice.

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It depends on the evaluations, how well he’s able to control himself. If there’s any risk of… him losing control, they’ll keep him longer.”

The thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to press on, to get as much information as you could. “And if he passes? What then?”

Jayce met your gaze, his expression somber. “Then he’ll be allowed supervised release, possibly… eventually, back to his normal life. But they’re strict about monitoring anyone with vampiric tendencies. Especially ones that had been transformed. He’ll be under close watch, no matter what.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you absorbed the reality of the situation. The council’s protocols were harsh, unyielding, and you could only imagine the toll they would take on Viktor, who had always prided himself on his control, his intellect. Now, he was facing something he couldn’t simply reason his way out of—a primal force inside him that threatened to consume everything he was.

“There was a little girl—is she alright?” you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Jayce’s hand rested on the side of your bed, his grip tightening slightly as he met your gaze. “Yes, she’s okay. The enforcers responded quickly to the attack, and they managed to take down the rogue vampire, but… by the time they got to you, you’d lost a lot of blood. They had to act fast to save your leg and… well, to keep you here.”

A small, humorless laugh escaped you as you looked down at your leg encased in plaster. “Great. A constant reminder of all of this—but at least she’s okay.” You shook your head, bitterness tainting the edges of your words. The thought of Viktor, suffering alone in that containment facility, while you were here, struggling with your own pain and limitations, was almost too much to bear.

Jayce’s gaze softened as he reached out, gently squeezing your hand. “I know it’s hard, but you’re not alone in this. Viktor… he cares about you. I’ve seen it every time I visit. He doesn’t care about the pain or the changes; he only cares about knowing you’re safe.”

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you clutched Jayce’s hand tightly. “He shouldn’t be in there. None of this should’ve happened,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the weight of the past week crashed over you.

Jayce gave your hand another reassuring squeeze, his expression pained. “You’re right. It’s unfair. But the best we can do now is help him get through it.”

The thought of Viktor, holding on to his humanity even in the face of such darkness, filled you with a fierce determination. You’d already come this far, survived this nightmare, and you weren’t going to let it end here. Somehow, you’d find a way to get him out, to bring him back. You’d be there for him, just as he’d been there for you all this time.

The doctor, who had been quietly observing, spoke up, his voice calm but firm. “For now, you need rest and recovery. The worst is behind you, but your body needs time to heal. Pushing yourself too soon will only worsen things.”

You nodded, though your mind was already racing, searching for any way to reach Viktor, to let him know you were there for him even if you couldn’t be by his side.

As the doctor left, Jayce lingered by your bedside, his expression thoughtful. “Once you’re well enough… I’ll see what I can do to get you in to see him,” he said quietly. “But for now… focus on healing. He’d want that.”

The promise in his words gave you a small glimmer of hope, a lifeline in the darkness that had consumed both you and Viktor. You squeezed Jayce’s hand in silent gratitude, the two of you sharing a quiet, unspoken understanding.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it. 🙏🏻 This will have around 4 parts and the 4th one will be smut. 😉

@thehistoriangirl

[wendsky]

seen part 1

wednesday addams x shapeshifter!fem!reader

when wednesday catches reader shapeshifting, she becomes enthralled by her shifting abilities.

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

In a dark corner of Nevermore Academy, a school known for embracing the odd and the extraordinary, you—an unassuming shapeshifter with a preference for solitude—felt perfectly at ease. Your life was a delicate balance of blending in while keeping the most intriguing part of yourself hidden. The days were routine, predictable, and that was exactly how you liked them.

It was a typical morning at Nevermore. You trudged through your anatomy lesson, silently taking notes on the skeletal structure of mythical creatures, while your classmates whispered and exchanged their dark humor and morbid facts.

Your next stop was botany, where you were surrounded by carnivorous plants and the occasional shrub that could cast a minor curse if you got too close. The macabre and unusual felt normal here, but even in a school of outcasts, you stood apart—not for your appearance or your quiet demeanor, but for what you were hiding.

Nobody knew about your shapeshifting abilities. Not even your teachers, who could sense when a student was particularly unique. And that was just how you wanted it. Being able to morph into different faces, adopt various personas at will, had always been your little secret.

You’d been judged enough in your early life for being “too quiet,” “too strange,” or “too aloof.” So, the shapeshifting? That was something you kept to yourself. Besides, people already had their suspicions about shapeshifters. The idea of someone changing their appearance at will made them uncomfortable, made them suspicious. Trust, in a school like Nevermore, was fragile.

You slipped into the cafeteria after botany, threading your way through the clusters of students, each group more peculiar than the next. Sirens, vampires, and gorgons filled the air with low conversation and laughter, while werewolves crowded around their tables with an almost territorial presence. As usual, you took a seat at the back, where no one would notice you.

Being a loner wasn’t so bad. In fact, you preferred it. The quiet gave you room to think, room to observe. People rarely bothered you, which meant fewer questions and fewer chances for your secret to slip out.

Still, despite your contentment with being alone, there were moments when you wished you could break free from your shyness and blend in more easily with the other students. Your heart would sometimes flutter with longing when you saw them effortlessly engaging in conversation or sharing inside jokes. You envied their ease, their confidence.

That’s when your shapeshifting abilities came in handy. When you felt the need to step out of the shadows, to try something new, you would choose a new face—someone outgoing, someone charming—and pretend to be them.

It was like slipping into a costume for a performance, a way to test the waters of social interaction without fully exposing your true self. But it was always temporary, a fleeting moment of borrowed confidence before retreating into the safety of your true form.

Today, though, you didn’t feel the urge to shift. You were content with your usual routine, staying quiet, unnoticed.

Until, that is, she walked in.

Wednesday Addams—stoic, cold, and somehow more intimidating than any monster in the school—strode into the cafeteria, her sharp gaze sweeping the room with a bored detachment.

Her reputation preceded her. Daughter of the infamous Addams family, she was known for her deadpan wit, dark humor, and an unnerving fascination with death and all things macabre. Even at Nevermore, where the odd was celebrated, Wednesday was in a league of her own.

You hadn’t spoken to her much, if at all. She didn’t seem like the type to engage in idle conversation, and you certainly weren’t going to try. But there was something about her that made the air in the room feel heavier, like her presence alone commanded attention.

She never seemed to care about anyone’s opinion, always walking through life with an air of detached indifference. In a way, you admired her. She had no need for masks or performances. Wednesday Addams was unapologetically herself.

As she moved past your table, you lowered your gaze to your food, trying to make yourself even more invisible than usual. You didn’t want her to notice you.

But she did.

Her steps slowed as she passed, and for a brief moment, her dark cold eyes flicked in your direction. It was only a glance, a quick, cutting look, but it made your heart race. You kept your eyes down, waiting for her to move on.

She did, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Later that afternoon, after classes had ended, you found yourself alone in one of the empty halls of the academy. The cold stone walls had always felt like a second home, offering you the privacy you craved.

You weren’t expecting anyone to be around, and you certainly didn't foresee what was about to happened next.

You were practicing your shapeshifting abilities, shifting into different faces, trying out a few new personas. It was your way of unwinding, destressing, testing out new possibilities for yourself. Each new face came with a new set of expressions, mannerisms, personas. Things you were too afraid to pull off as your true self.

You had just morphed into a more confident, outgoing version of yourself—someone with an easy smile and bright eyes—when you felt a presence behind you.

Spinning around, you saw her.

Wednesday Addams stood at the end of the hallway, her arms crossed, an unreadable expression on her pale face.

Your heart stopped. She had seen you. She had caught you shapeshifting. You quickly shifted back into your true form, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your secret was out.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to expect—disgust? Suspicion? Maybe even anger?

But Wednesday’s reaction was none of those things.

“I didn’t know shapeshifters could be so... dramatic,” she said, her monotone voice cold but laced with a hint of curiosity.

Your mouth went dry. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I’ve seen many things at Nevermore,” she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly as if studying you. “But you... you’re intriguing.”

There was no judgment in her tone, no fear. If anything, she seemed curious.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s... not something I usually show people.”

“I can see why,” she said, her gaze never leaving yours. “But that’s a shame. You could do so much with that.”

Her words were unexpected, and they hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. She wasn’t judging you. She wasn’t scared of you. In fact, she seemed almost... impressed.

Before you could respond, she turned and began walking away, her dark braid swinging behind her. “I’ll be watching you, y/n,” she called over her shoulder, her voice as cool as ever.

She. She knew your name. You looked down, face heating up, heart was beating so fast and when you glanced back up at her, she was gone. Here you were standing in the empty hallway, your heart racing and your mind reeling.

You didn’t know what to make of the encounter, but one thing was certain—Wednesday Addams had noticed you, and that was not someone that you could ignore.

a/n: messy but i hope this is a good start to posting here. i take requests too!

[titania-sleeps]

i thought it'd be a better idea to explain some of the ideas i put on the poll since there aren't enough words i can fit onto the poll to show nuance and plot, so here's a bit more! here's the poll if you still want to vote, i think i'll keep it up for the rest of the week while i try to draft some of them out a bit more: poll

pls vote :D i do intend to publish all of them eventually but i understand some of them might be a bit lacking :') so it helps to know which one people are most interested in

as a note, i mostly write sub yanderes so they'll all be sub in some way,,, some more than others ofc but they're either switches or subs

male omega yandere x alpha reader (but you're mean to him)

your omega yandere is desperate for you to finally bite him and claim you. the two of you have been fuck buddies for years (mostly so the two of you can get through your ruts and heats). he's annoyed by how good you are at controlling yourself. through all possible means of seduction, he will get you! so please, please bite him and claim him already!

yandere you pick up bc you want to feel better about yourself (savior complex)

your yandere is an F-Rank healer that can only cast Light Heal. he was kicked out of his former party and out of nowhere, you come into his life like a storm and take him into your party. the party consists of just you and him, and he wonders at first why you took him in. he loves you deeply for it but eventually finds out it's just cause you wanted to feel better about yourself as a person by saving him. he still loves you and will try his hardest to get you to love him back!

human yandere x vampire reader (he wants to be your blood bag)

your human yandere has been gifted to you from the Elder Ancestors as a means to satiate your blood hunger pangs. you chose him from the selection of humans on a whim but he believes that he is your destined. he gets jealous if you try other humans' blood; he insists that he was bred and born just to be your blood bag. he really REALLY likes it when you bite hard. he eats fruit just so he tastes sweeter.

pretend bf yandere x sad reader (you're widowed)

your pretend bf yandere is a replacement for your dead husband. he seems similar, but only in appearance. although you love him dearly, you can't see anyone but your husband in him. your yandere tries his hardest for you to see only him, but you are hesitant. please love him for him and only him, he can't bear to be just a replacement for much longer!

lil silly rich yandere x painter reader (he really wants to be your model) your rich yandere is a self-made noble; the so-called nouveau rich in the 18th century. he comes across you one day and he falls in love with your art. you are a painter that goes under the pseudonym of Apollo in fear of those in opposition to you. he purchases all your finest works and is granted an audience with you, and he falls deeply in love with you, the person behind his favorite works. sadly, you spend a lot of time painting the newest actor from a local troupe... he thinks that you should ONLY paint him. after all, he knows you the best, so he would be the perfect model for you!

flea familiar yandere x witch reader (he's a flea but has human form don't worry)

your flea familiar yandere is your familiar summoned on the day that you gain your powers. he was terribly excited for it, especially since he didn't think that he would get summoned so quickly after graduating from his prestigious familiar academy. however, after you summoned him, you couldn't help but express your disappointment that you summoned a... flea. a small, silly flea. he loves you oh so dearly, but why won't you acknowledge him? he tries his best to accompany you on trips and help you during spells, but why do you want another familiar so badly? he loves you, so please only use him and only him!

betrothed yandere x uninterested reader (you hate political marriages !11!!1!)

your betrothed yandere is terribly in love with you. and he has been for years upon years. the two of you were first introduced at the tender age of seven. at that time, you cared not for romance. he, however, grew to love your personality. growing up with you was the greatest blessing to him, but why do you only treat him like a friend? he chases away all your potential suitors, so you should only look at him, right? why don't you love him the most?

house husband yandere x INDEPENDENT STRONG reader

your house husband yandere is frustrated that you seem to lose more and more passion for him every night. the two of you may have only been married for a year, but he's sure that he's done everything right! he cooks you a delicious dinner every night. he prepares your bath diligently. he even offers himself to you every night; you can use him to relieve all of that stress! but why do you seem so focused on your work? you should pay more attention to him, or else he might do something that you won't like...

INADEQUATE house husband yandere x LOVING reader (not like above)

your inadequate house husband yandere is a mess. he's clumsy and really bad at doing chores. he gets too jealous and possessive in front of your friends, because he only wants to keep you to himself. he believes that you hate him and will divorce him soon, but that couldn't be further off from the truth. you love him dearly and you find him so cute. it's okay if he breaks all your dishes, you can just buy new ones! he's your cute little yandere and you would not have it any other way.

soulmate yandere x reader who doesn't believe him at all

your soulmate yandere is a great cosmic being from times of yore, but you clearly don't believe him. instead, you are obsessed with another student from your magic academy. that's so silly of you; you are tied to him and he has been waiting for your existence for eons. just say the word and he can grant you anything. he's willing to give his entire soul and being to you, so you should too right? he can give you immortality and infinite wealth, so please love him and only him. well... you will eventually. it's your preordained fate.

wannabe knight yandere x reader that really wants one (just not him... for now)

your wannabe knight yandere is your childhood friend. at a young age, both you and he would play pretend princess and pretend knight. you were always so insistent on finding your perfect knight; a pretty boy that would carry you away on his golden unicorn or whatever. well, he can be that knight for you. so he spends years of his life training away at becoming a knight while you try to find a way to become a lady. you eventually become a lady of nobility when your father is granted the title of baron from the king for his scientific discoveries. at the same time, he completes his knight training and passes the knight test. surely you'll accept him as your knight, right? if not... he may have to cut every other knight down...

-> masterlist

[urds-lover]

˚୨୧˚⊹♡⊹Zero x reader ⊹♡⊹˚୨୧˚

Title: Shadows of Night

Chapter One: The Crimson Rose

---

The moon hung high over Cross Academy, casting a cold, silvery glow over the silent grounds. For most Day Class students, the night meant sleep and peace—but for her, it was the beginning of duty, mystery, and danger.

As a member of the Disciplinary Committee, patrolling alongside Zero Kiryu meant enforcing the fragile balance between the human Day Class and the enigmatic, dangerous Night Class vampires. Despite the familiar routine, tonight’s patrol was anything but ordinary.

The memory of the crimson rose left outside her dorm room lingered. Its petals had been soaked in vivid red, accompanied by a chilling message scrawled on a slip of paper: “You belong to the night.”

She hadn’t yet told Zero. His temper was as sharp as his aim, and mentioning mysterious notes and roses left by unseen admirers wasn’t likely to go over well.

---

“Eyes forward,” Zero snapped, breaking through her thoughts. His silver gaze swept the path ahead, his hand never far from the gun at his hip. “Stay alert. The Night Class isn’t playing games.”

“I know that,” she shot back, annoyed by his perpetual grimness.

Silence stretched between them as they moved toward the Moon Dormitory, where the Night Class waited in orderly silence. At their center stood Kaname Kuran, elegant and commanding as ever. His crimson gaze locked onto hers, unreadable yet heavy with meaning.

Her breath hitched, but she refused to look away. Beside her, Zero tensed visibly, fingers twitching near the grip of his gun.

“Kuran,” Zero greeted coldly. “Move along.”

Kaname’s smile was faint but laced with amusement. “Always so protective, Kiryu. You should relax—trust that she can handle herself.”

Zero bristled, stepping forward. “Stay out of her business.”

Kaname ignored him, his attention still fixed on her. “Be careful tonight,” he warned, voice low and smooth. “Not everything in the dark is as it seems.”

Her pulse quickened, the rose’s message flashing in her mind. Yet she forced her voice steady. “We can handle it, Kaname.”

His gaze lingered a moment longer before he signaled the Night Class students to proceed into the building.

---

The patrol concluded without incident, but tension hung heavy as she returned to her dorm. The rose lay untouched on her desk, its vivid petals stark against the pale wood. The folded note lay beneath it, silent yet imposing.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

She opened it to find Zero, his expression dark and unreadable as he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

“We need to talk,” he said flatly.

Her brow furrowed. “About Kaname again?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Not just him. You—”

His words cut off abruptly when his gaze landed on the desk. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stalked toward it, picking up the rose and note. “What the hell is this?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “It’s nothing—just a prank or something.”

Zero’s grip tightened on the rose, his knuckles white. “This isn’t just a prank. Who gave it to you?” His voice was low but furious. “Was it Kaname?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. “I found it outside my door.”

His eyes blazed. “You should’ve told me about this.”

“Why? So you could overreact like this?”

Zero’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t a game. Whoever left this note is trying to get inside your head—and I won’t let that happen.”

She crossed her arms, frustration mounting. “I can handle myself, Zero.”

“Can you?” he shot back, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re caught in something dangerous, and you don’t even realize it.”

Their breaths mingled in the charged air, but the intensity in Zero’s gaze never wavered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he vowed softly, his voice filled with raw determination.

But even as he spoke of protection, her thoughts strayed to Kaname’s warning—and the unsettling promise hidden within the rose’s message.

This was only the beginning.