#marius: read my lips - no new vampires!

[thecactifindahome]

Queen of the Damned: last pages and sequel ideas

- The Witching Hour

- Untitled Talamasca novel

- God Damn It Lestat, You've Fucked Us Again

#lestat #marius de romanus #gabrielle de lioncourt #armand #talamasca #queen of the damned #vampire chronicles #maharet #mekare #khayman #louis de pointe du lac #vc #tulane university #marius: read my lips - no new vampires!

[rijinksiwtv]

Armand may not have the cloud gift*, but he can experience the exhilarating sensation of soaring through the air at high-speed all the same – on skis.

(New headcanon: Armand is into winter sports, in particular cross-country skiing. I wrote a poly drabble?)

Of course he wouldn't be able to use any ski lifts at night, but it's nothing to him to make his way uphill, fast. He quickly learned the technique and refined it for himself. For a mortal, it would be most unsettling to witness his ascent, something like a water strider climbing upward in bobbing movements. Truly the silhouette of a giant insect moving at alarming speed.

It's not like he would ever beg a more powerful vampire to carry him to the peak, so that he might slalom back down again. He would rather die before he did that, honestly.

Marius preferred to stay at the foot of the mountain, where the lone hut they spent comfortable hours in was. He didn't approve of Armand travelling too far away on his tours, kept warning him to not slip and fall into an icy crevasse, because then "neither he or Daniel would be able to hear him call for help." His maker insisted that he carry an electronic device that allowed him to be tracked, just in case. The fussing annoyed Armand greatly. He wouldn't be that inattentive. He'd only be in danger if someone attacked him, and who would dare to do that?

"So come along with me, my beloved," Armand would tell Daniel. "If we go now, we can climb 2,800 metres and come back long before daybreak. The moon is bright, and I want to show you the Northeastern summit. And it will be safer when we're together, is that not so?" Two vampires were indeed stronger than one, even against the steepest slope. And Daniel could always call for Marius.

Daniel did join Armand in his excursions now and then, and they enjoyed the magnificent panoramic views together. A winter wonderland spread out for miles beneath them. But Daniel's enthusiasm wore off with him getting cold a lot quicker. In time he would prefer to hang around the hut instead; reading, crafting, spending time with Marius. Marius, on the other hand, could not be moved to go near any high-alpine mountain chains, at least not for sport. He would always remind that he had something to review, most notably the latest draft of the council's Rules and Regulations handbook.

It was unsurprising that Marius brought paperwork with him on their holiday. But he did find something new to occupy his hands with. Though not particularly fond of ice as a material, he challenged himself to shape large blocks of them into eye-pleasing sculptures. He carved another crystal flower, honing his new skill.

When Armand came back to the hut from another one of his nightly mountain trips, his heart still singing from the final spurt, he saw Daniel lying flat on his back in the snow, stargazing. A bit further away, Marius was intently working away at their workbench. Carefully the knife carved into the block of ice, Armand couldn't tell what he was sculpting. Upon looking at Daniel again, he saw that his fledgling had made a snow angel. Daniel smiled and invited him to make one too. Armand refused.

"Snow-white wings suit you a lot better than me," he said. Daniel shrugged. Marius said nothing.

Carrying his skiing equipment, Armand stepped around Marius to reach the door. His heart skipped a beat when he saw what he was working on: a bust of himself and Daniel, beautifully carved in ice. Armand's head was placed a little higher, his shining curls carefully framing his face, eyes half-lidded. How did Marius manage to make his eyelashes so detailed? Daniel was close, his cheek by his collarbone, moist lips parted. Both of them looked sensual with their bare necks exposed.

"If we leave this here, it will be destroyed when winter is over," Marius said thoughtfully. "I did not think that far ahead."

"Master... you have outdone yourself. I will carry it to the tip of the mountain where it is coldest all year round, so that I may look upon it again by next season."

Daniel came to join them and stared at the ice statue, impressed. "Masterful, indeed... But it's missing something important." He stared pointedly at Marius, who raised his brows. "I'm mean you, Marius. You're missing from the sculpture."

Marius smiled. "I just made it for myself, you know. For practice." ("For practice!" Daniel exclaimed.)

Putting down his tools, Marius placed his arms gently around both Armand and Daniel. "Never mind that now. We should head inside. You both are more precious than anything that my hands can make." So saccharine his words, the younger men both couldn't help a blush. They leaned in close and allowed themselves to be led into the warmth of the house.

(Imagine Armand getting himself trapped in ice after all. Is this what Marius felt that one time? His maker and fledgling can't hear him!! His iPhone got lost. Maybe he can summon Lestat? Obviously, a terrible idea.)

*Armand DOES have the cloud gift, making this an AU scenario

#marius/armand/daniel #headcanon ramble turned into drabble #i love mountains. btw #au #fluff #writing

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      

Chapter 26 - Old Messages, pt. 2.

--------------Congo's point of view--------------------

I had promised myself there would be no more between me and Andy, but already the next day, I knew it was impossible to keep. I wanted him more than ever, and breakfast was almost impossible to get through. Marius was sweet, lovingly sitting on my lap, trying to feed me breakfast pancakes, while I was trying to pretend to read the morning news paper. I was mainly trying to avoid eye contact with him. I had never cheated on a partner before. And the burning feeling in My stomach was awful to bare. I had tried reading a few lines of the paper, but I kept getting interrupted by visions of Andy and I kissing in the forest last night. It was impossible to concentrate in anything. It was impossible denying I wanted more. The whole day I was wandering around aimlessly, I couldn't get Andy out of my head, and being with Marius made my guilt grow every minute. So late afternoon I decided to drive 2 km to a small mountain town, located behind my dads house. Not even the fresh air could clear my head, even though I tried my best. The evening seemed to run at snail speed, so I decided to call it a night already around 9. It was early for me, and Marius did question it a bit. I couldn't sleep however, thoughts of Andy and how this situation could possibly turn in my favor, were racing my mind. I had loved him 10 years. 10 whole years. Since the very first night I met him. And now he had finally fallen for me. But being engaged to a vampire, was a deadly cocktail, at least for the one standing in the way. I knew I needed to get as far away as possible, but he was my Andy. It's safe to say I hoped and begged it was him on the line, when suddenly my phone lit up in the dark bedroom later that night.

Andy: I miss you. A lot. I wish I could wrap your arms around me, and fall asleep like that. Safe. I sit here looking at the pics of you and Marius… all I can focus on is you… Your lips Your beard How I wanna run my fingers through your hair Your chest Your upper arms I love you I just wanna see you again. I know I need to shut up and move on. I don't wanna hurt you. I know I said everything yesterday… but I just keep running it on repeat. I just wish there were some way we could be together… and no one getting hurt. I just really need you! Close. Always. You keep me calm. You always made me feel safe. You were always so nice to me…. took so good care of me. I miss you so fucking much!! Miss your smell…. I love you.

Congo: I love you too.

Andy: You have no idea what those words mean to me.

Congo: I know what it means to hear them from you.

Andy: <3 I'm so in love with you!

Congo: I'm so in love with you too.

Andy: What are you doing now?

Congo: In bed.

Andy: Were you sleeping? Did I wake you up?

Congo: No, I couldn't sleep.

Andy: Oh… why not?

Congo: Thinking of you.

Andy: Good or bad?

Congo: Both, I guess.

Andy: What was the good?

Congo: YOU.

Andy: (He sent a smiley with stars in it's eyes) And then what's the bad?

Congo: That I can't have you.

Andy: I know! (Smiley crying on the floor)

Congo: What are you doing? Just sitting around in your room?

Andy: Yeah… can't sleep. I'm too restless… horny… confused…

Congo: I guess I feel sort of the same. Plus, it's too hot to sleep.

Andy: Take some clothes off.

Congo: I'm already naked.

Andy: :3 DAMN (followed by a row of blushy and pervy smileys)

Congo: You are crazy.

Andy: You love that about me.

Congo: Yes.

Andy: You make me hard!

Congo: By telling you I'm naked?

Andy: Yes!!! Of course!! You are fucking hot!!! GOD! That bulgy chest of yours!!!!!!!

Congo: What more?

Andy: Your big warm arms.

Congo: Anything else?

Andy: Your kind eyes… Your sexy beard Your strong upper arms Your v of muscles above your jeans line! Your firm ass Your muscly thighs GOD! I fucking want you so much!!!!

Congo: I want you too.

Andy: How much?

Congo: So much that I'm touching myself.

Andy: (Crying smiley, followed by a smiley leaning against a wall) First one was a finger spass… sorry…

Congo: What does the second one mean?

Andy: I wish I was outside your bedroom door!

Congo: Me too!

Andy: I want to feel your naked body against mine… making love to you all night and morning.

Congo: Mmm yeah… I would love that. Feeling my hands all over your perfect body. Tasting your skin. Feeling myself grow inside you.

Andy: Fuck!!! I wanna taste you too… and feel you so badly!!!!! You're so strong and warm. I can't get enough of your warmth! I wish I could push myself inside you, and just live in there…just merge with you… Are you still touching yourself?

Congo: Yes.

Andy: DAMN! I wish I could crawl under your blanker and give you a blowjob. I really wanna swallow you, taste your cum again. Mmmmmm! Tell me how you touch yourself…

Congo: I am slowly stroking my dick, and pulling lightly in my balls. Thinking of you. Wanting your hands and mouth on me.

Andy: Fuck yeah!!!!!!!!!! Wait… what are we doing? I;m so hot now I'm almost burning up!! And I'm touching myself I'm so hard it almost hurts!

Congo: The sweat is running off me. I want you so bad I think I'm gonna scream out your name soon!

Andy: FUCK!!! We need to cool down!

Congo: I know. How about we take a shower? Together. I mean, as together we can. I'll go jump in my shower, you go jump in yours… We jerk off with the thoughts of each other, and when we are done, we meet up here again? You can go to your bed as well, and we can keep talking till we get tired enough to sleep, or simply keep going till we fall asleep?

Andy: Yes! I'm in! I really need to cum! But as I'm quite challanged on that some days, I really need help… this might do :3 just the thought of you makes my insides buzz and my heart pound!

Congo: I know! I feel the same way about you. I'll meet you here in 10-15 minutes. I love you.

Andy: I love you too. (20 minutes later) I'm back!

Congo: Me too.

Andy: :) you make me smile and get butterflies in my stomach.

Congo: :) you too.

Andy: Really??? :D

Congo: Yes.

Andy: I'm melting!

Congo: :)

Andy: Did you cum?

Congo: Yes :) you?

Andy: Yes! Could almost not stand on my legs, that's how good it was!

Congo: Perfect!

Andy: Yes! :3 I kept thinking of your face :3

Congo: Only my face?

Andy: More or less. Only one time I thought of you sucking me. The rest of the time, I just pictured your smile… well, your profile pic here mostly…

Congo: You make me so happy.

Andy: Why? :)

Congo: Because now there's no longer a single shred of doubt in me. I know you are in fact in love with me too. That it's not just lust and a crush. I mean. You didn't just focus one me naked or fucking you. It was my face. Me as a person.

Andy: I told you! :)

Congo: I know, but it sounds too good to be true. Well, it is, since we can't be together. It stings in my heart every time I think of it.

Andy: :/ I don't want you to get hurt, or get bad health because of this. If its easier I'll stop writing these things to you, and we will somehow rewind time till before I told you… at least imagine that part…

Congo: No. Please. Even if it makes things a million times harder, I need to know you love me too. You did the right thing. We will find a way to control this, cause we have to. But for the rest of this night, let us just go to bed, and pretend to cuddle, how does that sound? No bad vibes before sleeping :) Let's keep it light.

Andy: Sounds nice. I would say perfect, but perfect would be you laying next to me, in reality…

Congo: I know sweety. Let's crawl to bed at least this way.

Andy: Alright, I just need to finish eating my bread…

Congo: You're eating? (Back then Andy had a lot of trouble eating. He had gotten of alcohol after around 10 years as an alcoholic, and his stomach wasn't used to solid food. On top of that he had a lot of anxiety around food, so it was a rare thing to see him eat more than a bit of fruit salad or a small bowl of cereal with milk or yoghurt)

Andy: Yes, a big piece of bread with butter and raisins :)

Congo: That makes me happy <3 thank you.

Andy: You don't have to thank me :) I don't wanna die any longer, remember? (he also used to be very suicidal)

Congo: Yes :) but that's also almost too good to believe.

Andy: :) just give me 2 minutes to get done…

Congo: Sure take your time.

Andy: (A few minutes later) I'm done, but I have raisins all over my mouth, I'm gonna go brush my teeth… Congo…how heavy does Marius sleep?

Congo: Pretty heavy, why?

Andy: Uhm, I'm in my own bedroom, so A surely wont hear me. Maybe if you think it wont wake up Marius, I could call you, and we could whisper a bit to each other? Or just be on the line, so we can just feel each other near? Or is that stupid?

Congo: No, it's not stupid. I would very much like that :)

Andy: :D I'll be right back!

Congo: Yes.

Andy: (Another few minutes later) Can I call now?

Congo: Yes :)

Andy: :D

We talked for about 45 minutes that night, till I no longer got an answer. I could hear him breathe deeply, and it was comforting knowing he was safe asleep. I kept pressing my phone againts my ear, as if I was trying to get him closer to me. I fell asleep much later with a smile on my lips, but a heavy heart knowing it was all wrong, and we had to stop.

#I know it's lengthy sorry #but there's theoretically way less text #just the format is long #sorry #unicornmanes #Congo Shaw #Andy Shaw-Thompson #Andycorn

[todragonsart]

The taste of wine - Chapter 1 - Siege-O-Ween Oct 29th

Prompt:  “I suppose, my secret’s out”

I welcome everybody back! It’s been such a long-long-long time, since I actually enjoyed writing something. I mean, times like that happen to any kind of writer or artist, and I’m just so happy to be out of it. This was so much fun, and why would we stop at just 6000 words? Come on!

Okay, honestly, I wanted to stop. I wanted to write a shorter one, but it kept going and going and going and now I’m planning like... 4 more chapters and a prologue :’) DoN’t HuRt Me PlEaSe <3 

As always, I can’t thank @r6shippingdelivery​ and @freedert95​ enough for helping me with the beta-reading. You two are absolutely life-and-sanity-saving and I love you both very much.

Oh and also, this is for @dualrainbow​‘s Halloween event, so thank you guys too, for resurrecting me from the dead! 

I hope you enjoy!!

“I want you to help me die.”

Mike turned towards the man standing on his right, eyes wide with shock. He let his gaze wander, just for a second, on the other. His tall, proud posture, his handsome face, basking in the dim candle light, his gentle, green eyes now looking at him full with hope, expecting help. How could a so-called monster look this innocent, the soldier couldn’t fathom. Why would he want to die? And more importantly, why would he want to be killed by somebody like Mike?

In his wondering, he almost missed the way the other’s lips pulled into a small smile. “You won’t help me, will you?”

Lifting his chin a bit, Mike looked the other in the eyes and he couldn’t help, but think ‘what a waste’, but shook his head anyway. “I will.”

The man seemed caught off guard- almost surprised for a second, but his smile widened as hope filled him even more.

Mike shook his head, looking away. What a waste.

But how did he get into this situation in the first place?

The Boogie-man. Zombies. Ghosts. Mummies. Werewolves. Monsters . Mike Baker had never really understood them. He understood the concept, and the literature, but he didn’t understand the need. It was just the need to be scared. Or even more, the need to force the fear of darkness into the shape of something understandable. Because that is what all these so-called supernatural monsters were, weren’t they? Just images made by scared children on a moonless night. A howl? A wolf! A growl? A zombie! A mug falling down? Definitely the leftovers of a dead person. Not the wind. Obviously not the wind.

Mike never said that he didn’t believe that something was hiding in the dark, far from it - being a soldier, facing new threats every other day made him learn that in fact there was always something around the corner, ready to attack. But nonetheless, he was sceptical of the supernatural.

Living in this world for 54 years he never met any kind of supernatural monster that could have been killed with only silver, salt or fire. In fact the only monsters he met were people. People acted way worse then any animal or entity ever could, hurting others and themselves, acting selfish and rude, being agressive and stupid. Obviously not every person, but he was facing terrorists, he believed he had seen the worst of worsts. He had seen men murdering innocent people, he had seen organizations turn children into mindless soldiers and he had seen mothers killing their loved ones and then themselves for the ‘greater good’. He had seen a lot. Like a lot . But he had never met any kind of supernatural monster, so yeah.

He had every right to be sceptical, and ironical, because he did not understand the fear of the unknown and darkness like a normal person did. Howls? There was no werewolf able to sound as a friend dying from an open wound. A growl? The unhappy sound of a terrorist being cuffed. A mug falling down? The reaction to a newly found biochemical weapon. No monsters, just people. Bad-people.

He started to feel bad for the monsters in books, tv shows and poems at one point. All that screaming, shouting and wanting to capture or kill them… Why were they the ones being chased? That was the other question. Why were the monsters always bad? Why would a werewolf or zombie or mummy or anything attack the human beings, like they did in the stories? To hunt them, taste their blood and eat them and their brains? Oh come on.

The fact that sharks don’t even like the taste of human meat must mean something!

But it could be the blood... All animals had blood, why would a vampire attack that one human being, when they could hunt a calm cow, or something. Much less screaming, much less effort, much easier target.

And don’t even start with the brain bullshit. Why would anything try to eat the brain?! The people mindlessly attacking others for being a little bit different than they are were empty anyway!

And also, why would a demon or spirit or whatever the fuck attack humans after their life? What if they are stuck and just need help? What if they just want to be friends?!

He believed in ghosts, tho, he did. But not the… ‘the white sheet with two holes for the eyes on it’ kind, obviously. He believed the ghosts of the past. The screaming in his nightmares about the wars, the eyeless people standing behind him in the mirror, the feeling of his mother’s gentle hand on his shoulder.

Ghosts.

But not the hollywood ghosts scaring innocent people. His own ghosts. Some of them were bad, some of them were good, even soothing. Mementos of his childhood, his first love, his daughter. Good ghosts, who never wanted to hurt him, in fact most of the time, they helped him in their own way.

And after all… everything started with a ghost.

The ghost of his father.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

When he first noticed the familiar figure, he was in the middle of buying baked beans in the supermarket. He was all alone, thinking about calling Penelope after dinner, to ask where would his grandson want to go this year for a little Trick-or-treating during Halloween, minding his own business with the cans, when he noticed a tall, dark figure just outside the shop’s front window.

He didn’t even notice it first, but when he felt the unmistakable feeling of being watched, he looked up, right at the dark figure. The long coat, the old hat, the wide shoulders; he caught himself thinking, Dad…? But his father died at least thirty years ago, so yeah. It was kinda suspicious.

He looked around, trying to find out if anybody could see the figure, and as he looked back, the window was empty.

Strange.

But the ghost of his father had never been a bad omen. Maybe he should visit his grave. Or perhaps it was a reminder that he forgot to put on his watch this morning, the one that once belonged to his father.

Shrugging, he went back to pick the beans and that was it.

Or so he thought.

Because, not long after this, he noticed the figure again. He was just arriving to his boat after a disgustingly long day of work, ready to open a beer and crash on his couch, when he saw the familiar silhouette from his peripheral vision. He turned his head, but as the last time, the figure was gone.

Mike lifted an eyebrow. It was his father’s birthday coming up soon. Heh. Motherfucker never missed a chance to make people wish him happy birthday after all.

Shrugging it off again, he entered the boat, and did as he planned with his beer and couch.

But obviously, it happened again. The tall figure standing patiently, just looking at him from afar when he arrived home, bought his supplies, walked down the streets. The well known shadow never moving, never looking like it was alive, never changing.

He once even noticed the figure standing at the docks, as if waiting for him to get home. It was strange and the feeling of being watched never seemed to disappear.

The last straw was when he noticed the shadow during the night he was with his daughter and grandson, Trick or treating, having fun. He almost missed it again, the silhouette standing in a dark alleyway just the other side of the road. As he saw the shadow there, Mike got furious all of a sudden. Hanging around, waiting for him was one thing, but bugging him during family times? A real jerk move.

As he noticed, he immediately stopped in his track and turned towards the figure, stepping down the pathway. His gaze was fixed on the figure that looked like its usual, frozen self, but as it noticed his attempt of getting closer, it did the strangest thing: it moved.

It wasn’t a scared wince or anything a normal human would do when they were discovered doing something bad, it was just a surprised lift of shoulders and a slight tilt of hat, but it was something . And as Mike took one more step forward, the figure did the same thing backward. And that was when the good omen of his father turned into a human monster, because who else would follow him around every night just standing still and watching. He had a stalker. One of the most disgusting kind of monsters.

His instincts kicking in, he reached for his gun, but the second he touched it an ear-rippingly loud car honk pushed him out of his state of mind. He was standing in the middle of the road and a very angry driver just honked at him again.

Looking at the man behind the wheel, Mike sniffed and let his gun slip back into its holster. He glanced back at the figure, but that motherfucker was gone. Of fucking course.

Great.

Not caring for the loud honking at all, he turned back and stepped on the pathway again.

A stalker.

Glancing back at the other side of the road, he lifted his chin, looking around.

A ghost? A stalker? A monster, maybe. A human one, who was apparently afraid of him.

It didn’t matter. It was time to end their relationship.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Except the figure disappeared.

Not in the term a ghost would, because Mike still felt like he was being watched, but he didn’t see the silhouette again. It pissed him off, but he was smarter than giving up. Instead, he turned to his team.

He asked Marius - one of the best tinkerers the world has ever seen in his opinion - to install a few cameras around his boat, so that he can monitor every movement from within his home, and Marius - although a little bit weirded out - delivered. Mike was satisfied, he finally got a chance to get ahead of the mysterious staker, now all he needed to was to be patient and he never had a problem with that.

He waited for three weeks without seeing the shadow again, but on the fourth Friday, he finally caught it on record. Since the cameras were recording live, and he spent his nights sitting in front of them, he just caught a glimpse of the figure’s coat. It was fucking four in the morning, and he was doozing off before, but the second he saw the movement, he got on his feet and reaching for his gun, he rushed to the exit of his boat, all tiredness forgotten.

The adrenaline was rushing in his ears as he burst out of the door, gun in hand. It took him just half a second to find the figure in the darkness, then he was already charging towards it, running like he never ran before.

“Stop right there!” he shouted and again, he caught the figure off guard; it winced from the sudden sound in the otherwise peaceful night. It looked around, trying to find a place to hide, clearly trying to escape, but the old soldier was fast. The moment the figure turned away in an attempt to run, it made a mistake and Mike caught it’s arm in his iron grip. The force of him tugging at the figure efficiently knocked it’s hat off just to reveal a patch of sweaty, ginger hair. He lifted an eyebrow, tugging at the arm again, trying to get a better look, but the figure just seemed to have more than enough of this abuse.

Knowing all too well that trying to slip from Mike’s grip was a useless motion, it instead planted its feet and turning on its heels it kicked the soldier on his side, efficiently knocking the air out of his lungs. Wheezing, Mike immediately let go of the arm, gasping for air. Growling swears he looked at the figure, but it was on the run already, making distance between the two of them.

Spitting, Mike got himself together, and rushed after the figure. He had been waiting for this fight since Halloween and he wasn’t going to let that motherfucker run away once more. The figure was fast, but Mike was angry, and it made him more dangerous and reckless. He had no problem keeping up with the pace, in fact, he was catching up to the shadow step by step. He was ready to finish this.

In their chase, Mike kind of forgot to look where he was going, but it didn’t really matter. The only thing in front of his eyes was the prize of finally catching this motherfucking stalker, the changing of landscape around them didn’t matter at all-

Until it did.

Mike had no idea how, but they ended up in the more abandoned corner of Hereford. There were mostly suburban areas or empty factories on this side of the town. How did they even get here!? He looked around in concern, taking deep breaths. He had no idea, he only started to notice everything around him just now.

He still had the figure right in front of him, but their distance started to grow as his legs got tired of the running. The adrenaline in his blood slowly faded away, and with that, his energy did too.

He soon noticed himself gasping for air, his sight getting a bit blurry, slowing down, which was- not a problem namely because the figure was heading towards the last building in the line, which turned out to be a… a church? Really? A church.

Before he could ridicule the shadow in his head, he saw it run straight up the front stairs of the building, and the next thing reaching his mind was the loud band of the door being shut.

Taking big gulps of air, Mike let himself collapse on the ground, eyes fixed on the building. This might have been the strangest night of his entire life, and it was far from over. Giving himself a few minutes, he just sat there, watching the building, kind of waiting for the figure to escape again, but there was no movement around the church. Odd.

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and stretched as he stood up. Twisting, he popped his spine and with a low groan he approached the church. He couldn’t see any movement around the door, but as he stepped on the first stair, he noticed how a light had been lit in the window of the church tower. So, there was somebody home.

He pulled his gun out - just in case - and stepped to the door, slowly pushing it in; it wasn’t even properly closed. Holding his weapon as steady as possible, Mike stepped in. It was pitch black. Grimacing, he fished his small flashlight out of his pocket, turning it on. The narthex was empty, only a few old benches left, waiting since god-knows how long, for people who never came.

Mike looked around and noticed a smaller entrance door. Stepping there, he glanced inside the nave and seeing no movement, he entered. Looking around, he lowered his gun a little. Rows of benches, hand-made pillars, a few old, wooden sculptures of Saints here and there, with their additional little plaques of info. Mike hummed, directing his flashlight at each of them. There was nothing unusual, really just a worn down little church. He didn’t even know that there was a church in this part of the town and he has been living here for a good 10 years now.

Getting deeper into the building, he started to measure the space in his head, trying to find the stairs into the attic. It was a small church so it was not many places where they could hide the way up. His hard guess was behind the main altar, so he made his way there, making sure he was as silent as possible.

As he arrived into the crossing, he stopped to take a quick look into both of the transept sides, that was when he noticed it. It wasn’t a big thing to notice, but it was strange on its own. On one side he saw an old Virgin Mary, the other held an equally old St. Joseph. Squinting, he glanced back at the other sculptures in the nave. All of them were old, but otherwise clean. The benches were left to rot, but every statue was in the best shape, not a single part missing or paint being spotty.

“What the fuck?” Mike heard himself whisper, but glanced in the direction of the main altar. The Jesus there was in the best shape possible. Mike shook his head, and stepped up to the main altar. He glanced at the sculpture, tilting his head a little. “Listen, if he is just a strange fan of mine I won’t hurt him, but otherwise… I can’t promise you anything. Don’t come after me later, okay?” with a smirk, he shook his head. Always an atheist.

Behind the altar, he noticed a small door, hidden from even the front rows. Getting more and more relaxed in this very strange situation, he lowered his gun completely as he entered the small door and there he found it. The stairs to the attic! According to the soft lights at the top of the stairs, he found what he was looking for.

He switched off his flashlight and started to climb still as silent as possible. He was about… 99,9% sure the stalker knew about him, but still. This time, he wanted to be the one hiding in the dark.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

He was around half of the stair when he heard some kind of a rustling under his boots. He froze in the middle of his movement - not wanting to be heard -, and looked down in a slight panic. Squinting, he leant down; a plastic bag? Okay, what now?!

He gently stepped off the bag and lifted it up in the weak light of the staircase. Mike’s eyes rounded as he recognized the object in his hand. It was a very strong bag with rows and rows of writing printed on it, informing the handler about the date, the place and the type of blood. 0-. Mike closed his eyes and opened them again, hoping that the plastic bag would… maybe miraculously turn into fairy dust and butterflies, but the plastic bag remained. Normally he was okay to see this bag, it was a useful little object, you know, saving lives here and there, but- this one was empty. Why the fuck was it emtpy, it was clearly used before. He glanced up at the top of the stairs. Okay what the fuck.

Taking a gulp of air, he stuffed the bag in his pocket and continued his way up. As he got to the last few steps, he first noticed a door on top of the stairs, and it being slightly open, he heard a soft sound. Stopping yet again, he tried to concentrate, and soon could make out the sound of fabric rustling and gentle tones of a piano.

Getting more and more confused, he finished his journey up, lifted his gun in front of himself, and without knocking or giving any warning, he burst into the attic, just to be greeted by a pair of green eyes fixed on him. He lifted his eyebrows. He has seen this look somewhere, but he couldn’t, for the love of god, tell where.

The eyes belonged to a - very - handsome face of a young man. He had elegant and sharp features, with a bit of arrogance hidden in his posture. He was without a doubt attractive, but Mike couldn’t care, because the young man had locks of ginger hair on his head, and who had that as well? His dear stalker. So he pointed the gun at the other, who was annoyingly calm.

“It took you long enough to get up the stairs. Might be the age,” said the stranger, with an amused little smirk. He looked away, down to the table and reaching out he poked on the phone laying on the surface. The soft piano stopped. “I started to get worried.”

Anger building in him, Mike gritted his teeth. “Who are you? Why are you following me? What do you want? What the fuck is this?!”

The stranger smiled at that, looking back at him, never noticing the gun. “My name is Olivier Flament. I have been following you, because I need to ask you a favour. I would like to ask for your help in an important matter. As for what… I believe this is my home.”

Struck by the strange honesty of the other Mike blinked a few, lowering his gun just a tiny bit. “What matter? Why were you following me?”

“I told you, I need your hel-”

Mike cut in. “Why were you following me everywhere for almost three months?”

The man fell silent, he glanced at the table. He almost seemed… shy?

“Spit it out!” Mike grumbled, making the other look up. His posture might have been calm, but his eyes were like the sea before the storm.

“I didn’t know how to approach you, see my lifesty-”

“So you decided to follow me, even with my family and when I try to catch you, you run? Almost not suspicious.”

Olivier looked at him for a few long seconds, trying to figure him out. It has been harder than he planned so far, and if he didn’t play it cool, he would get into a deep problem. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you, but-”

“Oh you didn’t scare me.” Mike lifted his gun, pointing straight to the other’s head. “You made me angry. ”

The young man turned his head down, now looking guilty. “I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt you or your family, I swear to God. I need your help. Please, just listen-!”

Mike watched him, standing there, one hand on the table, leaning there a bit, trying to move away from him. He noticed something… inhuman in this man, something otherworldly. The posture, the face, the eyes… It was so strange. Not unpleasant, far from it, just odd.

The soldier lowered his gun a little, and took the plastic bag out of his pocket, throwing it in front of the other. “What is this crap?”

Looking down, Olivier hummed. “That’s my favourite. I probably had the same type back in the Dark Ages, and now I find it delicious.”

Mike’s grip on the gun tightened. “Quit the jokes, mate!”

The young man didn’t answer, he just glanced to the left. Following his eyes, Mike looked away, just to see a little fridge. It had an open cooler bag in front of it, what had about 10-15 similar blood packs in it. He looked at the man again, grimacing in disgust. “You are sick.”

The other shook his head. “I am really not. Don’t think that I enjoy drinking human blood in particular. It is not a very exciting diet after 800 years, but it does what it needs to, and still better than starving, or hunting and hurting the innocent.”

Mike glanced at the bags again, and then back at the man standing in front of him. “If you tell me, you are a fucking vampire, I will vomit.”

The sides of Olivier’s mouth pulled up into a gentle smile, and crossing his arms in front of him, he nodded. “I suppose… my secret’s out.”

“You are joking!” Mike blinked.

Olivier shook his head with that amused little smile. “No. And you didn’t vomit. Surprising.”

The soldier shook his head. “You are crazy!”

“Says the man who chased another through a town, gun held high, ready to murder.”

With an unamused grimace Mike rolled his eyes. “You should be happy that I’m just holding my gun and not using it.”

“Not to sound too smart, but that wouldn’t do too much harm on my body. See, this is the problem. As far as I know, I’m pretty undestroyable.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow. “Huh?”

Olivier nodded. “If you would like, I can show you,” before finishing, he already reached for a letter opener on his table. It looked sharp, and he held it out for Mike to see, then without a heartbeat, he pressed the edge into his own palm.

For reasons unknown, Mike immediately reached out, to catch his hands before he could hurt himself, but confusion hit him even more, when there was not a single drop of blood coming out of the wound. In fact, the raw flesh - or at least what was supposed to be the raw flesh - did not look the way it was supposed to look like. It was not red and healthy, but grey and… there wasn’t any blood. Not a single drop.

Mike slapped his palm across his mouth, and shutting his eyes, he took two steps back, turning his face away. There was no blood, there was no smell, there was nothing . Nothing human. What the fuck. Now he felt like vomiting. He looked up at Olivier. “What the fuck is… What!?”

The man looked at him and humming, he put down the letter opener. He picked up a piece of fabric, wrapped it around his hand. It didn’t really serve any purpose other than hiding the disturbing wound from Mike out of pure sympathy. It wasn’t an easy thing to see. “You seemed very confident in yourself just a second ago.”

“Fuck.” With a huge sigh, Mike held back his dinner, and taking a deep breath he adjusted his posture. “Okay. Okay. Let’s pretend, for a second, that I believe you. What do you really want? What kind of help do you need from me ? Do you want to eat me, or something? That is why am I here?”

Hearing this, Olivier suddenly seemed annoyed. “If you would just calm down a little, I would tell you everything!”

“Get on with it!” Mike shouted suddenly, with his gun held up again.

The man- or vampire- or what the fuck stood there, mouth slightly open, eyes helpless. He bit his bottom lip and turned his head down again, lifting both his hands in a soothing motion. “Please... “ he glanced up at him again, almost scared. “I know exactly how this sounds, alright? But I… I don’t want to cause harm to you, I swear. I wanted to introduce myself to you, but I have spent the last… forty-something years of my life being in- being alone, and I had no idea how to approach you! This is the truth, I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you, you are not my type! I do not even enjoy hunting humans, all that screaming and blood and waste…” Olivier shook his head slowly, looking Mike in the eyes. “I swear. I don’t want to eat you, I don’t want to harm you, I’m more than happy with those bags. I genuinely need your help!”

With jaws clenched, Mike watched his every move, considering his options. He slowly lowered his gun, and side-eyeing the vampire, he turned around to observe the surroundings. It was a way of getting used to the situation, and also it was a test of the other. He wanted to see how Olivier reacts to him in his own home, if it could even be called that. With a frown, he looked around.

The attic was spacious, with a few smaller windows built into the roof. It was divided into two, a smaller room, which reminded him of an office, that was where they were standing. It had a heavy, old table - Olivier waiting patiently beside that - pushed under a window, close to the wall, an equally old leather chair, a few cabinets with papers, candles, smaller and bigger containers, a small, locked chest, and other unusual stuff piled on them and the fridge with the fantastic blood bags in it.

The other half of the attic was just behind Olivier. Not knowing what to expect, Mike looked around. He didn’t see a bed or a coffin or anything where somebody would be able to rest comfortably, but he had a hard guess that Oliver - if he was truly what he said to be - didn’t really need sleep. However he saw an old couch and two nice armchairs in front of a- a- a bookshelf. Well. A bookshelf was a very, very weak expression. It wasn’t just one bookshelf, he saw at least three or four of them, and each one was stacked with books. And not just the shelves, no, there were books everywhere. Everywhere. It looked like a motherfucking library over there. Piles of books behind the couch, around the armchairs, stuffed into the window slots, put on the beams and around the columns. It was so messy, yet amazing, Mike couldn’t help but let an amused little snort out.

He looked back at Olivier, who was still standing next to the table, waiting for him, without a single movement. He didn’t take a breath, he didn’t blink. Sniffing, Mike lowered his gun completely. “A vampire?”

Olivier nodded.

“How old are you?”

“As far as I remember, I have been turned-” he hummed. “ around AD 750-850.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘around’?”

Olivier cleared his throat, looked away as if he was embarrassed. “We didn’t really have birth certificates back then and my memory is kind of blurry from a 1200 years of perspective, don’t judge me.”

Mike hummed. “Is this your real name?”

“I have been called many names over the years, I don’t know if you have noticed, but it’s sort of suspicious if somebody uses a name for 1200 years, but don’t worry. For those who I wish to get close to myself I am Olivier Flament, yes.”

“Why are you talking like this…? I’m a simple man.”

“Then you might know that old habits die hard.”

Not being able to hold back, Mike smirked at that. “Touché.”

Olivier nodded gently. “Would you like to ask anything else?”

“Who turned you? Are there more of you?”

Looking away, Olivier started to fidget with the phone - actually an iPhone - on his table. “I don’t really know who turned me and I don’t know about the others. To be honest, I don’t wish to have any connection with them anymore. I have had enough, especially since the so-called “Dracula” figure ruined our reputation in popular culture.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Mike almost burst out laughing. “You are- you are hurt by the movies?”

“Since they tell false facts, obviously yes.”

“Why don’t you correct them, then?”

Now it was Olivier’s turn to lift his eyebrow. “And how do you expect me to do that? March over, knock on the silver gates of Hollywood and say ‘Excuse me, we do not actually sparkle under the sunlight, says me, an actual vampire!’ or what? I’m not a fool. As soon as I tell the humans what I am, there would be one of these two options: one, they would want me to turn them into vampires as well, for the fun of living forever, or the second, they would panic as the herd of animals they are and chase me until they either catch or kill me. Not like they would succeed in any of these options, but it’s easier for me to just lay back in silence and busy myself with the old knowledge of the early ages.”

Mike, taken aback, just shut up for a few seconds, lifting his palms in a protective gesture, but it was for the looks only. He somehow did not feel the need to protect himself anymore, in fact, Oivier reacting so seriously to a simple joke put him at ease. He liked it here, and he found himself being interested in the other. It was still a far-fetched idea, and he was still 60% sure that he will wake up on the ground in his boat, with a few empty bottles of whiskey around him, but this wasn’t so bad after all. The vampire seemed almost nice, and he was never really down to judge at the first glance, so why not wait and hear him out?

Noticing his own rambling, Olivier fake-cleared his throat again and turned down his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I assume you have been saving this up since a very long time.”

“Indeed.”

With a small, amused smile Mike shrugged. “It’s okay. But if you don’t want to tell people what you are, why tell me?”

“I have heard about you before, and I trust that you won’t tell my secret to anybody. I believe you could help me with my problem. I know it is very hard for you to understand my reasons and drive, but I put my trust into you.”

Mike narrowed his eyes. “What do you need my help for?”

“I want you to help me die.”

Mike turned towards the man standing on his right, eyes wide with shock. He let his gaze wander, just for a second, on the other. His tall, proud posture, his handsome face, basking in the dim candle light, his gentle, green eyes now looking at him full with hope, expecting help. How could a so-called monster look this innocent, the soldier couldn’t fathom. Why would he want to die? And more importantly, why would he want to be killed by somebody like Mike?

In his wandering, he almost missed the way the other’s lips pulled into a small smile. “You won’t help me, will you?”

Lifting his chin a bit, Mike looked the other in the eyes and he couldn’t help, but think ‘what a waste’, but shook his head anyway. “I don’t enjoy murdering people, but if you have a good enough reason I will. But you have lots and lots of explaining to do before we get to it.”

The man seemed caught off guard- almost surprised for a second, but his smile widened as hope filled him even more.

Mike shook his head, looking away. What a waste. He didn’t like the idea of killing the other. He kind of started to like him in a very twisted way, but he understood why somebody would want to die after 1200 years of living in the dark.

Olivier stepped closer to him, offering his hand gently, a smile as bright as the sun.

Mike glanced away with a low sigh. “What have I gotten myself into? Mike Baker, by the way.”

“I know!” with a soft laugh, the vampire shook his hand. “I told you, I have heard about you. And as for what… Let’s just sit down, and let me tell you my story first, okay?”

Stepping back a little, Mike looked him in the eyes. After a long pause, he nodded. “Okay. You can start with how you know me.”

Olivier nodded, and stepped into the other part of the attic, gesturing towards one of the armchairs. “Have a seat.”

Mike put his gun on the big table and followed Olivier into the ‘living-room’. He looked around a bit, observing the piles of books here and there and with an amused smirk, he sat down. The armchair creaked under his weight and he frowned. “How long since you invited anybody here?”

Olivier looked at him, sitting down on the couch. “This is a fairly new place for me, truth to be told, I have only lived here for about ten years. But in the term of having interaction with humans and other vampires… It’s been just about thirty years or so. I prefer being alone.”

Nodding, Mike kicked off his shoes and put his legs on top of a strong pile of books. Olivier rolled his eyes with a smile, but he didn’t say anything. “So,” Mike began. “Why me?”

Fidgeting with his fingers, the vampire looked away, and then back at Mike. “I knew your grandfather, and also your dad.”

Let me know what you think!! <3 

#dragonwrites #dragontries #dualrainbow #siege-o-ween 2020 #r6s #rainbowsixsiege #fanfic #fanfiction #r6s Thatcher #r6s Lion #r6s Bandit #r6s Jäger

[random-imagines-blog]

Vampire Heart {Marius De Romanus Oneshot}

Requested by: @horselover1994 Wordcount: 2355 Summary: David introduces you to his obsession.

The underground organization known as the Talasmasca was very much a secret - which was perfect, because keeping secrets was one of it’s sole functions. You had been roped into it when you were arrested for breaking into the archives of a little-known library, looking for information on vampires. Why had you been looking, they had asked you, once you were seated in front of the council. “Small girls may have big imaginations, but I know I didn’t imagine what I had seen when I was young,” was what you had answered. The council only had more questions so eventually, you had to tell your story. What had happened when you were young, what you had overseen, what you had experienced - it was a hard story to swallow, but they had been able to confirm the event that you had come across. “Sometimes, I still get those goosebumps when I am walking around at night.” You told them, looking at your hands rather than the people seated at the table. “I know there’s something still out there, and I need the information, the proof.”

“Luckily you found us then,” The man who had introduced himself as David had said, standing up from his chair. The rest of the council nodded in agreement, and then departed from the room to let David explain to you exactly what the Talamasca was. Even with his explanation, it blew your mind that there was a secret society that kept records on creatures such as werewolves, witches, spirits and especially vampires, which was David’s specialty. You listened as he told you a brief story about the one vampire who always seemed to slip through his fingers, who was a bit of an obsession to him. Marius De Romanus. A tour of his office showed off the paintings of one vampire, and you could feel why David was so intrigued. He was absolutely beautiful, and your heart seemed to want to escape your chest and fly off to find him.

“I feel it too, David, what you feel for Marius,” You admitted to him one day. “I - I can’t explain it but there’s something...” You looked at one of the paintings. He had his finger to his lips in this painting, in a perfect pout that made you lick your bottom lip. “Thank you for showing me these.”

“You’re welcome,” David said, his eye twinkling with excitement that someone else shared his infatuation. When you left his office, you were looking over your shoulder once more at the painting that was still on display. One more step and you wouldn’t see it anymore - and now it was gone. That painting was all that you could think about during the tour through the different offices and libraries, and to your own nook. You were new, so an office of your own would have to wait.

-

The library was full of interesting books, but hardly any of them mentioned the vampire Marius. What was strange to you was that you had come here to find some information on the vampire that had attacked your family, but he had disappeared almost entirely from your mind in exchange for the handsome vampire whose portrait you saw for only a moment. “Please, please, anything, just a tidbit,” You said, pushing your hair out of your face as you went through one of the many tomes.

“Don’t work too hard now,” A friendly voice came up from behind you. Entering the library was David, with a conflicted expression on his face. You didn’t appreciate the break but knew that you needed it, so you slid a bookmark into the book and closed it slowly.

“It’s hard not to - so many resources at my disposal,” You said with a grin. “To be honest, it’s hard not to get sidetracked.”

“I understand that,” David said, nodding. He came up behind you and looked at the title of the book that you had been reading. “Interesting, that one. You must remember your purpose however for being here. Other research can wait until you’ve finished.”

“You’re right,” You sighed, admitting defeat. “How are you today, David?”

“Tonight,” He corrected. “I was wondering if you would like to join me at an event tonight. It is rather fancy dress, but I’m sure we can find you something appropriate.”

“I didn’t know the Talamasca had fancy dress parties,” You said, snorting at the idea of the stuffy-looking librarians you had met dressed up in cocktail dresses. David shook his head, an interested smile on his face as he thought of the same thing.

“Not the Talamasca. The Vampire Lestat.”

-

This was a once in a lifetime offer, so of course you took it. The Talamasca had it’s connections to Lestat through the vampire Jessie, who had once been one of the researchers in the secret organization. David had promised to introduce the two of you, as well as Lestat. He was known to be a bit of a drama queen, so you made sure to dress up enough that he would have no issue with you. Velvet and lace, a choker to protect your neck, your hair styled to perfection. And a spritz of perfume to hopefully hide the smell of the human blood pumping through your veins.

“We won’t be the only humans there,” David said when he had come to pick you up, in equally gothic attire. It wasn’t all that odd to see him like this - the man was almost always dressed in black on a day to day basis. But he had worn his good glasses, which made you realize that he was trying to impress someone.

“You think that Marius will be there?” You questioned, stepping outside of your home and locked the door behind you.

“Well, there is always a chance,” David said, blushing as he was caught. “It’s going to be a grand affair, many vampires, many ... interesting ones.”

“Oh no, we’re going to be the most boring ones at the party,” You teased.

The man in glasses laughed as he escorted you to the car that was taking the two of you to the party. “You have no idea how right you are.”

You weren’t used to fancy parties. Sitting in the couch in your pajamas with a big book and Netflix playing in the background was more your speed. Or even having a few friends around with pizza and a good old game of Cards Against Humanity was the most rambunctious you became. So what you walked into was something that you didn’t know how to prepare for.

Everything was dark, which is what you had expected. The only lighting in the whole place were candelabra and a large chandelier with twinkling crystals catching the lights of the candles within, illuminating the area with a dull yellow light. “It’s beautiful,” You said, looking around at everything. There seemed to be a nature theme along the more macabre, like skulls with rose petals scattered around them, vines leading from the inner walls to the outer where a garden glowing with moonlight was adorned with a still pool, showing there was not even a breeze.

“Well, it is designed by Lestat. He’s got interesting taste,” David said, keeping close to you. The seats were made of velvet, and though most were red, some had animal print. The details on the chairs and couch were leather, which you felt with your hands as you sat down to catch your breath. A woman paler than the stars themselves came around with a tray with wineglasses, one of which you accepted after smelling it to be sure it was not blood.

“Right, so where is the mysterious rockstar?” You asked David, sipping on the red wine. You may not know much about wine, definitely not a connoisseur but this tasted delicious. It took a minute to realize that the sounds were the buzz of other conversations, not of David’s voice, and when you looked up at him, you saw him staring intently in another direction. You followed his eye line to see the man from the paintings, standing there in the flesh.

The vampire’s eyes flickered from David’s to yours, and then stayed on you. He had a glass in hand, and he raised it in a toast. Completely hypnotized by seeing this person who has been on your mind for months, you raised your own. David stepped forward, but a small clique of vampires crossed the room between he and Marius. Once their line had departed, Marius was nowhere to be seen, not even a shadow of where he had been. Completely gone.

“Have you met him before?” You asked David, since the both of you continued to stare at the empty space.

“Once. Months ago,” David said back, clearing his throat and finally looked away.

“I think you should introduce us.” You said, without really thinking, then stumbled to explain yourself. “It would be a good excuse to talk to him again, I mean.”

“Why would you need an excuse to talk to me?” A voice came from beside you. It was more accented than you had thought it would be. The short haired vampire that you and David had been staring at appeared by your side, with hardly a breeze to give evidence to his movements.

“Marius,” David breathed. “You’re here.”

“I was invited. Though the music - is not my taste.” The vampire looked straight at you. Quickly, but in a motion that seemed effortless, he took hold of your hand. It surprised you just how cold he was. This is the closest that you have been to a vampire since your horrible encounter as a child. “I am Marius. I do believe David has told you about me.”

“And shown me your portraits.” You said at David’s expense. It was worth it to see him start to turn pink, although it did worry you how many of the guests here turned to look at him when the blood rushed to his face. “I am y/n, pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Appreciate the night with me.” It came out more as an order than a request but you were more than happy to obey. With his hand still holding yours, the two of you left the party and went out to the grand courtyard, where the moon showed it’s full face. It was a perfect night, with not the slightest chill from the wind. Everything seemed so still, that a breath felt like you were desecrating the place. You kept your lips shut, not wanting to ruin anything with the sound of your breathing. It was very obvious that the vampire next to you was not even pretending to inhale or exhale.

“How are you finding our city?” You asked, unable to handle the stillness any longer. Marius may have eternity to stand around and enjoy the nights, but you had a very human schedule.

“It is very showy,” Marius said, surprising you with a smile. His fangs were slightly noticeable, but that was because you were looking for them. He was alive much too long to feel any sort of insecurity, and so when he caught you, he smiled wider, giving you a better view. “Do you want to feel them?”

“Pardon?” You asked, eyes wide. You caught your horror and laughed it off, hoping you didn’t offend. “I’m not the type who wants to live forever.”

“That is not what I meant,” Marius said, raising an eyebrow. “We are able to bite without turning. As a Talasmacan, I would thought you would know that.”

“Is it that obvious that I am ... one of them?” You asked. If you were to answer his offer, you weren’t sure of what you would say. A yes might stumble out, in a move to attempt to please him.

“Yes, and no,” He said, walking in a circle around you, taking you in from every angle. “I know you are because you came with David, but you are not like the rest of them. You do not seem to see me as a study subject, am I wrong?”

“No,” You said, sighing your relief. You did believe that the Talamsca was full of stuffy people who tended to look at the vampires, werewolves and unknowns of this world as beings, not as the humans that they once were. It was an honor to study around them, but not to be one of them. “You are not wrong. But I must ask, why do you taunt David like that? You know that you are-”

“His obsession?” Marius laughed. “I am well aware, he has been following my life for most of his.” He looked up towards the moonlight, which only showed off the beauty of his face. No painter had gotten him just right yet. There was something about his jawline, his smile, his eyes that they could not capture. “I am more interested in you than in David.”

“Why?” You asked, staring at him. “He knows much more about your vampire culture than I do.”

“Culture?” Marius laughed at the word you used. “No, no. It is not about that. You remind me of someone that I knew long ago, in the beginning of my vampire life. Or unlife, I should say. Someone that I had fallen in love with before my heart had completely turned dark.”

“You still have hearts?” You asked, shocked, then blushed at your interruption. “I’m sorry, please, continue.”

“If we did not have hearts, what would the hunters put their stakes through?” Marius asked with a grin, like it was a funny joke. You laughed nervously, hoping you didn’t offend. “You look exactly like them. You smell like them. I was drawn to you. I feel as if...”

“As if what?” You asked, breath caught in your throat.

“As if I may have another chance.”

“Marius-” The way that he looked at you then, under that moonlight, made you stop speaking for a moment. It was like you had forgotten every word that you knew, save for his name. His eyes - they sparkled with such a longing that it took your breath away. But you eventually found it, swallowed, and continued. “You know that I’m not that person, right?” You questioned.

“I know,” Marius smiled. “But that does not mean that I will not love you.”

#Marius De Romanus #Marius #Marius oneshot #Queen of the Damned #Queen of the Damned Oneshot #request #oneshot #oneshots

[vcsecretgifts]

Altın Mağaralar

From: @amelthebravennian

To: @cygnaut

// @cygnaut​ thank you so much for this occasion to work over this rare pairing! I hope you’ll like it <3 I wish you a very Merry Christmas, and a lot of happiness!

…

The night was particularly clear, the sheepish twinkle of stars adorned the sky like celestial jewelry, after the last shades of dusk had burned out. It was a mild night, and the air transported, with its soft murmurs, the scents of warm topsoil, horses, and human food coming from a village nearby. The arid floor hadn’t seen any rain for so long, that the booted feet seemed to hover above the crackled dirt ground, lifting light veils of dust at their following. It must have been quite a show to behold, under the golden rays of midday, when heat and sun would have made of the whole land a desert splendor of gold and topaz.

Villages had been carved directly through the rock into underground places, the fast moving silhouette had heard. Moving along the shadows as a shadow itself, the shape thought about Derinkuyu and the buried houses they explored the night before, until dawn had plunged them in a deep slumber, that they had only left about an hour after the sunset. Beside the evident beauty of the place, the history and mysteries shrouding the wide expanses of valleys and hills, something else attracted the androgynous creature endowed with long braided blonde hair and cold blue eyes, deeper and deeper into Cappadocia. Feet seemed to know their path in that unknown territory, as if led by an imperious conscience through the broken curves of dunes and secrets caverns.

But if the direction seemed clear, the goal wasn’t, and there was still in this wide world some mysteries the shade wasn’t in a hurry to unveil. They had heard about ancients, about beings so powerful their heartbeats would rumble akin to a thunderstorm drumming to any immortal ear. About elders whose age was unknown, just as the limit of their potency and blood thirst. Armand had told about one of those elders. He had mourned after Marius, and the shape had learned along its journey that Marius wasn’t the only Child of the Millennia that had once walked around the Earth. They were no fool. The blood coursing through their veins, their son, and maker’s veins had to come from somewhere. They had read about legends in hidden libraries, and forgotten scrolls. Even if refusing to believe most of them, some worrisome elements couldn’t be denied.

The silent call running through Gabrielle’s body was most likely a trap, one on which they would agree to ensnare themselves merely because their instinct encouraged them to. They had learned about listening to it since the Blood -the Dark Gift- had first chanted within their supernatural heart. It wasn’t the first time they experienced the imperative push, after all. It had all began some years ago, not so long after they parted from Lestat.

It had been just a light pressure on the back of their neck, like a kiss posed by a secretive lover, an insisting glance weighting on their shoulders, a glare given by the darkness itself and delivering their fill of bothersome shivers. They had been in Italy then, visiting the remnants of a past mortal life of which they were the only living legacy. For a while, the immortal had believed that remaining hidden underground for days and nights would have made it fade and finally vanish, but they only found thirst and pain instead of peace. and so Gabrielle had left the security of the ground to get back to their wandering. Surely, the impression would disappear as they ignored it. And it did, for months, and months, until it seemed merely a foreign dream. They couldn’t even tell how many time passed before the disagreeable feeling came back.

It had been muffled steps they had heard following them to Malta then, too light to belong to any human being, too discreet for a fledgling chasing them. The sound had stopped only when they had boarded a ship sailing to Athens, and for a while Gabrielle had believed to be finally left alone. It took five nights, or perhaps six, for the ethereal push to come back again, lighter this time, but nonetheless present. It became then, as usual to feel it as the presence of a dear friend taking a walk through time and space with them.

They almost forgot about it, classified it in a part of their brain as an information not yet useful. Nights and days passed by, and their steps, led by the inner call,then left Greece and headed to Turkey. Eventually, it vanished along the road, taking years to come back as Gabrielle was digging themselves deeper in the Turkish lands. Through deserts and wide plains -indeed- the vampire had been guided, and it was with a slight indecision that they were now staring a succession of sinuous cliffs topping a narrow rocky valley. The reason of their presence in such a place was still as unknown as the next step to take. Oh, the beauty of the place was enough to fulfill any of their expectations. The real inquiring was about the ones of the presence, that seemed to make its way closer to them, just as in Malta. 

Would it be here, at the confines of the world, that Gabrielle would find the answers their son had sought for? A sigh left their parted lips, interrupted in the middle by a sound they had prayed to never hear. Echoes of a low, deep drum hesitantly lost their way to the immortal’s ear. An Elder was coming by, each new heart beat heavier than the last, loudly annunciating the end of what had seemed to be a several years’ track down. It was vain to run away, thought the young vampire. If the Elder had succeeded to follow them across seas and lands, there would be no place on Earth to escape. They waited in silence, composing themselves in their attempt to spot from where the Elder would appear. 

As the heartbeat came closer, a shape split the darkness from behind a boulders alike the moon piercing through dark clouds. Physical steps led the powerful vampire closer, unveiling a feminine shape moving with grace and seemingly devoid of any mischief. Long blonde hair cascaded on her back as silver reflection, displayed by the moon, conferred a ghostly presence to the Elder. Her fair skin was as pure and white as marble, and somewhere, it reminded Gabrielle the story of Armand, and how he had described Marius. Was it how they would all end up too, as ages would succeed one to the other? Like a living statue, as horrid as beautiful, so cold that even blood wouldn’t play the trick of humanity? 

One would have assumed her glance to be as icy as the apparently frozen but graceful features of her face, but the tender blue of her hues seemed as welcoming as the hearth of a fire back home. It baffled the younger vampire to behold such a contrast. Such emotions seemed to transpire from her eyes, when her body language was terrifically neutral, that it was impossible not to understand her supernatural nature. And even if Gabrielle’s muscles tensed, ready to push them out of reach if only they had the time to foresee an attack, they remained on appearance perfectly stoic.

The only truly threatening thing about this newcomer seemed to be their powerful and low heartbeat, her dazzling and charming face now filled with vitality as she smiled. Her steps stopped at one arm length from Gabrielle, blue eyes wandering to old dusty boots to the large hat underneath which they had kept their braided hair hidden. Though not judgmental, the glance seemed to pass through the manlike frowzy attires, as if directly seeing Gabrielle’s soul. It was unsettling. To say the least. And before the woman’s lips parted to let a melodious, veiled voice cover the monstrous heart beats, a tremendous silence had seemed to quiet all the surroundings in a terrible wait.

“Don’t be afraid. It is curiosity that had led me on your path, and a sheer desire for friendship that made me follow your tracks. My name is Sevraine,” the Elder greeted, jovial from her voice to the bright glance she had fixed on Gabrielle. 

They watched Sevraine quietly, all senses dedicated to the presence as if able to gauge the potential danger they represented at that very moment. Then, almost reluctantly, they took off their hat, and pressed it against their chest as they bowed gallantly.

“Gabriele is mine,” they said in Italian, just as they had once introduced themselves to their husband to be. A name often mistaken for a French feminine one. Well, it never truthfully irritated them, anyway. 

Another silence settled itself between the two immortals, and the wind seemed to murmur harder in an attempt to break it. Bringing in its whirling the fresher scent of a dew that would never reach the floor, and the far murmurs of little birds. Dawn was coming close. Gabrielle could feel it underneath their skin, in an hour or so, the deadly sunbeams would flood the valley in gold. They would need to find a place to dig themselves under the ground before it happened, or else their blood would boil in their veins and their skin would dry before sticking to their bones and burn. 

“I have a shelter, hidden deep in secret caverns,” Sevraine spoke again, sensing probably even better than Gabrielle the urge of regaining the darkness before sunrise. “Please, allow me to invite you in. There is much to hear from you, and I promise in return to answer your questions.” 

The elegant Child of the Millenia opened an arm in a graceful gesture, pointing at the high reliefs of rocks and dust. With vigilant eyes, Gabrielle glanced the flawless hand, and a little further, the direction years of roaming had let to. They wondered a moment if following an Ancient on their diurnal lair was the wisest decision to make. Somewhere in their mind, Lestat’s voice arised, reminding them of his ardent seek for knowledge, for the story of their origins. The memories of Armand and his horrid coven mixed, and a thrill of warning went down their spine. But how could they refuse anything to such a powerful creature, that the even world seemed to appease itself in order to allow her supernatural heart to beat so loudly? Slowly, they nodded, placing their large hat back on their head.

“Lead the way,” they said, easing some of the tension that had built in their shoulders. After all, hadn’t she already led the game of cat and mouse all along? Sevraine gave a nod at her turn, but it was unclear whether she was agreeing with Gabrielle’s words or with their thoughts.

She led them down the valley, until a deep cave appeared half revealed by the moon’s glimmer. Gabrielle had some difficulties to find safe grips, their vampiric vision and strength tested at each new step, so much that it was more by instinct than anything else, that they found their way after Sevraine. Then, it was through a succession of tunnels physically testing to walk in that they dug deeper into darkness, finding their guide to wait after them at each tricky corner. Gladly, for it would have been a difficult thing for the younger vampire to find their way out, or in, without her. 

“We are almost there,” she said quietly, as if answering a silent inquiring caught up in Gabrielle’s mind. And at the very difference of Armand’s intrusions, it didn’t feel bothersome. To be fully honest, they didn’t feel a thing, which was probably even more concerning.

Though, they found out pretty fast that Sevraine had spoken the truth, now discerning in the far depth of a larger cave, the glow of salving torchlight burning bright. So much ostentatious gold had been decorating what seemed to be an entry further into the shelter, that the light reflected on each stalactite, each cavity, each sharp rock was like the sun itself. 

Gabrielle needed a short moment to ease their view, shortly stunned by the dazzlinness of the place, and its master. It was at that very moment, that the sneaky realisation of the situation caught them up. Once posed a foot further in the Golden caves, there would be no turning back. The Elder seemed to understand their hesitation, remaining for a silent moment as contemplative on the bright shapes as Gabrielle. They gave a nod, and walked further. Damned might they be if they didn’t take that chance to understand more about their nature and origins. 

Entering Sevraine’s lair felt like walking in a Sanctuary, pompous from the wall to the ceiling covered in gold and ancient painting, to the severe faces of statues kept as everlasting guardians of the souls entering the cave. Candles cleverly placed here and there, rendered the whole place strangely welcoming and bright, the soft scent of melted wax and burning wick mixing with fresh draught smelling like dew. But the more baffling was yet to come, for at the very moment Gabrielle walked in a larger cave, their usual phlegm cracked in parted lips, opened on a silent expression of awe. 

It was certainly the most wonderful cavern they had set foot in, outrageously wide, splendidly adorned with colored jewels and rocks, lightened by thousands of candles shining like stars all around. They wondered a moment how the flowers could be so vivid, so deep undergrounds, and whom were the figures she could catch here and there in small alcoves carved directly through the rock. Their eyes were drawn everywhere by discreet twinkles or colorful patterns, by trompe l’oeil paintings, movements of leaves dancing at the soft blows of wind… Beautiful, but unnecessary. 

Down and down did Sevraine lead Gabrielle, their silent feet barely touching the steps that brought them both in a large marble court. There were others heart beats near, more discreet than the Elder’s one, more akin to the ones Gabrielle had perceived once in Armand’s catacombs. To whomever could they belong, not a face showed up yet, probably allowing the younger vampire to familiarise themselves with the place. Or perhaps it was because of the far call for slumber the coming sunrise chanted, the one they could very well feel weightening their breath and slowing their reflexes. 

“Come, allow me to show you your room,” said Sevraine with her everlasting friendly soft voice. 

Rooms. Many tunnels joined the principal ground, as it seemed, reminding again the hidden splendors of Derinkuyu. Gabrielle gave a nod, and followed as they did until then, through the labyrinthic succession of tunnels, opened places, and closed houses. 

They entered one of them, dotted by a grand painting representing a window opened to the forest, and many more alcoves filled with burning candles. Sevraine gestured for them to enter first, and so they did, standing right in the middle of the unique room, breathing in the soft scents of green leaves falling as a cascade against a whole part of one wall, and the little nocturnal blooming flowers adorning them. A large bedding had been carved directly through the rock, many pillows and pelts giving to it an illusion of comfort, just as useless for Gabrielle, as the few apples they found on a table. 

“This home is your home for as long as you wish,” Sevraine uttered softly, now sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Why?” Gabrielle couldn’t much restrain that sudden spark of curiosity, knowingly aware that nothing was truthfully free.

They remembered again of the damned coven composed of livid terrific creatures wearing black gaunt clothes and staining their hair with soil. They remembered how their covenmaster had begged for companionship in exchange of precious information, among others, the name of Those-Who-Must-Be-Kept that didn’t have any meaning to anyone of them. 

“You heard about the Parents…” Sevraine seemed thoughtful, catching against Gabrielle’s will new spark of memories and secretive thoughts. “And you sought for more answers.” 

“It is nothing more than legends told by a child.” they said, for that was what Armand had been : a cruel child, whose only beauty was his cherubic face and deep brown eyes. He had been rotten from the inside by his need for salvation. It wasn’t such a surprise, that the boy had believed such tattletales, just as an orphan would believe in the existence of loving parents somewhere in the world, ready to adopt them.

“I’ve met them.” The dreamy voice brought Gabrielle back from their remembrances, icy blue eyes now scrutinizing the friendly physiognomy of the Elder. 

They couldn’t believe such words, of course, and even less coming from a creature seemingly that old. But soon, images intruded their brain, and in a split second, the room had disappeared to show a large golden throne chamber. They gasped, and made a step back, then another, colliding against an invisible table. Around them, the thick walls had become painted columns, the candles were now large indecent braseros aligned on each sides of a long and large nef. Human beings were all around on their knees, venerating what they seemed to take as their deities. Incense was probably burning somewhere, the warm and perfumed ambient air whirled by heavy feathered fans.

“It was a long time ago. A time of Queens and Pharaohs,” Sevraine continued along the shifting images.

On the very end of the nef, few steps led to two golden round thrones, on which two wonderful creatures of marble, onyx, silk and gold sat. The light reflected on their eyes on that very unnatural way vampiric eyes did, both of them wearing delicate lines of khol and gold. For a moment, Gabrielle stared at them with a sense of awe they rarely allowed themselves to experience. The man seemed peaceful, silent and immobile as another vampire murmured to his ear. His black hair made of pure ebony wearing a crown of linen and papyrus gave his handsome face a severe expression, and “the strength that emanated from him was enough to reduce anyone into sheer reverence.

“Enkil was the King of Kemet then. The Great King, already seen as Osiris by his loyal servants, and treated now as the personification of the God itself.”

But as much the handsome face of the man could spark admiration in one, it was nothing compared to the woman’s beauty. Her face was as delicate as porcelain dolls, her pale olivaceous skin covered with gold dust and heavy jewelry. Her long dark braided hair looked like snakes falling on her shoulders as Medusa’s tresses, and the tender pink of her lips seemed as delicate as rose petals, until they moved to form words in a dialect Gabrielle had never heard before, and showed in flash the tip of two deadly fangs. She had a certain look in her eyes which perplexed them the most. Just a little twinkle of rage, burning deep, deep into onyx. A shiver shook them, at the horrid realisation that the woman’s glance seemed barely human-like. 

“She was Enkil’s Queen, and the very First of our kind. Akasha, bearer of the Sacred Core, Great Mother of all Vampires, calling herself Isis’s personification and demanding in exchange of her magical blood a blind servitude. And I, with my throat still filled with the liquid ecstasy of her Blood", would become her very first Priestess.”

Akasha… Enkil… The names rolled within Gabrielle’s mind as the vision vanished. Thus they were the very first ones of their species, walking among human beings as living Gods of Night and Blood. Where were they now? What would they look like? As shared between perfect immobility and lively moves? If being adored like Gods had been so important for them, why were there no tracks of them anywhere?

 “What became of them?” they finally asked, daring to come closer to their Elder and sit by their side. Dawn was closer than ever, and yet, Gabrielle refused to let it show of their features. Trying to fool such an old creature was probably even more foolish, but they had learned soon enough to keep any show of weakness hidden.  

“I promise you’ll have the answers to all of your questions as soon as dusk will rise. For now, we should part for the day to come and gather back later,” Sevraine softly stated, and Gabrielle could only nod gratefully, as they would pass out in an instant or another, even if she stayed there. She rose in a very elegant way, moving her aerial shape to the door from which she gave a light glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gabrielle.” She bowed lightly, and disappeared in the shadows of the tunnel. 

A small, sheepish smile twitched Gabrielle’s lips, as they peered through the door a moment, before laying on the bedding. Face covered with their hat and body now numbed by the forced slumber, they allowed the very last events to haunt their mind. Well, this seemed promising.

#2019 VC Secret Santa #VC #Vampire Chronicles #submission #amelthebravennian #cygnaut

[raxlestrange]

Bury the Hatchet or Bury A Friend | Phoebe x Sam x Avery

Phoebe

Phoebe shoved a Marlboro Gold between her crimson lips as she weaved through the crowded street, waving on her newest business partner with her free hand. Their recent alliance was already proving to be lucrative with the whereabouts of the bookstore attacker secured. A little too secure for Phoebe's liking. 

"My contact’s shop's just up the road." Phoebe quipped, not wanting to waste any more time. Especially when a potential lead could turn cold, or worse get thrown into Azkaban. Upon arrival, she cast her eyes at Sam  "Let's go. He's expecting us."

Sam

Sam kept up with Phoebe’s pace with ease, though that wasn’t overly impressing considering his legs were practically the size of his new companion. He wasn’t quite she what to think of her yet, nor was he sure if she would be a reliable partner, but right now he couldn’t afford to let the opportunity slip. Besides, it wouldn’t be hard to get rid of her if she betrayed him. 

He was mostly the muscle of this operation, even if he wasn’t a vampire it wasn’t often people tried to fuck with the giant man, especially not when he was visibly pissed off. He gave her a nod and a quiet grunt in response, pulling his jacket closer to himself. As they approached the store, he opened the door, a small bell sounding, and held it for the younger woman. “Ladies first.”

Avery

Avery raised his eyes from the inventory notes he had been taking for what felt like the dozenth time in the past ten minutes. Of course, he always greeted customers when they arrived — as was the polite thing to do — but he was expecting some very important company that afternoon. When Phoebe had approached him with a lead, he was surprised to learn that the otherwise quite solitary woman would be bringing the owner of this particular lead along. The allomancer still wasn’t sure if he could trust the spitfire woman, let alone this new stranger, but he had pulled his weight thus far and he could only hope that they were prepared to do the same.Directing his employee at the front of the shop to keep an eye on things for a moment, he greeted his new... business partners. 

 “Miss Maddock—“ Avery nodded to the smaller woman before lifting his gaze to the tall stranger. “Perhaps introductions are better done behind closed doors... if you will both follow me.” He canted his head towards his office before leading the way, directing them behind sturdy wood and soundproofed walls.

Phoebe

Phoebe stamped out her light, allowing the last bits of smoke and exhaust to fill her lungs before entering. As per Sam's request, Phoebe strode through the familiar doors to Allomancy. She nodded a deliberate thanks to the taller man, taking a quick second to marvel at his impressive height. Phoebe liked to think she had seen it all, but she never seen a man quite as tall as Sam before. It was curious, and it would have to wait.

"Lestrange." Phoebe nodded back, bringing her attention to the man behind the counter. "Lead the way." She was familiar with the manner in which the eldest Lestrange had conducted his business affairs having worked with him a number of times in past. It was no surprise that they were going to keep the contents of this particular deal private as well. 

Phoebe then nodded a second time. This time at Sam as if to wordlessly say that it was all clear and then proceed to follow Avery to the more secure location. If they were going to work together they would need to develop a systematic form of communication. 

 As instructed, Phoebe waited for the door to close behind them before she began the introductions. "Lestrange, this is Samuel Prince. He owns the bookshop down the road.” Her eyes darted between the gentlemen. "Prince, Avery Lestrange. I do believe the lot of us have similar interests. Interests that involve the outcome of recent events and Lestrange’s particular skill set.” 

Sam

Lestrange was a familiar name to Sam, it was about time he met the eldest. He was unsure how the interaction would go; he was go friends with Viv, but Marius was a whole other story. Hopefully this man wasn’t as annoying as his brother, otherwise he might have to eat him, too. However, he trusted Phoebe knew what she was doing, at least for now, and Sam was too desperate to turn down her services and information. 

 His usual extroverted demeanor was replaced with an irritable and quiet mask, returning the young female’s nod and trailing after her and the eldest Lestrange silently, the only sound coming from his black boots against the floor. Sam nodded at the other gentleman, muttering a quiet “pleasure to meet you” even if he knew the circumstances were anything but a pleasure — even after all these years he couldn’t help his manners, he guessed that was his mother’s doing.

Avery

Avery nodded to each of the visitors in turn, noting how even he had to lift his gaze to meet the other man’s. He only vaguely recognized the other store owner despite his striking size and features, but he had heard plenty about his misfortune. The damage wasn’t irreparable from what he had seen, but the vandalizing had already caused a lull in business for himself— he could only imagine what such a targeted attack must have done to Sam’s. Not to mention the added drama of Potter’s mental break; from what he had read in the papers, the victim had been a friend of Prince’s. Surely that was motivation enough to team up with a vengeful Maddock, but Avery couldn’t help but wonder if there were something else driving him to such extremes. 

 “The pleasure is mine. My deepest apologies about your storefront, I know better than many how that kind of attention can influence sales... though I suspect business may not be the only reason you’ve come.” 

“Nonetheless— I have kept up my end of the bargain thus far. This room has been carefully safeguarded by yours truly, I trust we can speak freely among these walls.” The metal charmer pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, opening the cabinet behind his desk and pulling a sturdy black box from one of its shelves. He brought the box to the table, raising an eyebrow at his occasional business partner. 

 “Have you informed him what I have been tasked to do?” 

Phoebe

Phoebe scanned the room, deep brown irises narrowing with intent as she inspected the area for any ill will. It was more out of instinct than mistrust, and general good practice when it came to making these sorts of deals. Judging by their similar interests and previous work together, she didn’t have reason to distrust this Lestrange. 

 Satisfied, Phoebe nodded towards Avery allowing the pair to finish up their introductions before continuing on with more urgent matters. 

 “He has been briefed.” Phoebe confirmed, her eyes flickering towards her new ally then back to the eldest Lestrange, hunger and impatience apparent in them now. “As have you. Now, enough with all the small talk. Let’s see this prototype of yours.” 

Avery

Avery nodded his head, fighting back a wave of nerves and excitement as he took out his wand, large hands working over the box with a series of quick mutters to unseal the item from its case. He was nothing if not thorough, but he couldn’t help the concerns that had wormed into the back of his mind. Working on this new piece had left him feeling equal parts challenged and accomplished, and while he was confident in his abilities, there was always a certain risk that came with such prototypes—a risk the other two couldn’t exactly afford considering their plans. He would have loved more time to develop and test, but felt comfortable that they would find use in the piece as it was. 

 “You’ll notice it looks very simple—unassuming. Exactly what you would want for such a task.” Avery slid the long silver cord from its box, twisting and turning the enchanted metal in his hands to show how it could be linked and unlinked, extended and shrunken.

“The base metal is no longer than a standard necklace, so you’ll notice it can’t shrink beyond that length. However, the charms I have layered should allow it to wrap and extend to your bidding... but there is a catch. Such a binding charm can only be broken with certain materials. Long ago they might have used a unicorn horn, but we don’t exactly have time for such unwieldy tools..”

Sam

After living through the Middle Ages and all of the lovely torture devices of the time, the puny ass chain almost made Sam laugh. Instead, a scoff escaped his lips and his eyes rolled. Who even was this guy to be making something for their task? Phoebe trusted him it seemed, but Sam wasn’t sure if he could trust her either. 

 “Are you going to tell us what it does or would you prefer we guess?” The vampire sassed, arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes piercing into the younger male. He couldn’t help but distrust him, he was a Lestrange after all. Of course, he loved Viv, but if Avery was anything like his brother he might be the next on his grocery list.

Phoebe 

Phoebe’s eyes managed to widened at the silver chord as it resized itself several times, then regrettably sink as Avery's explanations continued on and on. Phoebe didn’t have time for all the subtle nuisance and intricacies of the product, not while Alfie's killer's still drew breath. 

In an attempt to ease Sam’s frustrations that mirrored her own, Phoebe stood on her tiptoes and placed a hand on as close as she could get to the tall man’s shoulders. She, too, was beginning to grow impatient even if she respected Avery and his craft enough to tolerate his introductory  ramblings.

But enough was enough. 

 "Perhaps a demonstration.” Phoebe suggested, darkened irises flickering towards the noise proof door.  A smirk snaked across her crimson lipstick. “I saw a few willing participants in the store front."

Avery

Avery wasn’t offended by Pheobe or the stranger’s reaction, if only because he was confident that the cord’s complex hidden utility would prove them wrong for underestimating him. He was slightly put off by the man’s attitude, but trusted that Phoebe would not take someone on as a partner if he were incompetent or not to her liking. Desperate as she may be to find out what happened to her brother, he knew his business partner was nothing if not ten steps ahead of the game. 

 “I was getting there,” the allomancer replied cooly, “Though business is already at risk as it is, so perhaps a volunteer would be more appropriate?” 

Avery raised a challenging eyebrow, extending his hands with the cord for one of them to allow him to fasten it. “You see, when the metal is melted down for production I am able to add certain ingredients and elixirs to imbibe the metal with. Only trace amounts of course—“ he reckoned they didn’t care much about how added liquid could change the composition of the metals and compromise the item, but his point still stood. “Enough to produce certain qualities, however. For example, if an allomancer were to have some veritaserum on hand...” 

Sam

A small huff escaped the young vampire’s lips as Miss Maddock’s hand met his shoulder, containing the urge to shrug it away. Be nice, he told himself, even if the gesture reminded him of Teddy and Teddy made him want to rip his heart out of his chest like a Mortal Kombat fatality, except on himself. 

Anyway, he wasn’t overly impressed by his new companion, but he was already getting attached to Phoebe and wasn’t going to let her try out Mr I-Have-A-Crazy-Brother’s new contraption. Sticking out a tan hand, he pulled up his leather jacket’s sleeve to expose his wrist, allowing the stranger to fasten it around him. 

Avery

Avery wasted no time, slipping the cord around the taller man’s wrist, wrapping the cool metal several times before attaching it to itself. He pulled back, the tail end following his own hand as he leaned against the desk. “Now, Mr. Prince... I want you to lie to me. Have you ever killed someone?”

Sam

If Sam was being completely honest, this was the only question he didn’t want to be asked. He released a breath, closing his dark eyes before mumbling a quiet no. 

Avery

Avery watched as the cord began to glisten faintly, felt as the heat began to travel from his end of the cord to the taller man’s wrist. The heat was tolerable enough to maintain his grip, though surely after prolonged exposure it would be blistering. A faint smile graced his lips, just barely concealing the pride he felt at seeing his invention serve its purpose. 

“Not to worry, Mr. Prince— there will be no judgement here. Business is business after all, and your presence here tells me all I need to know for this particular transaction.” 

“Would you like to test it for yourself, Miss Maddock? Or shall we set our friend here free?” 

Phoebe 

Phoebe leaned in watching intently as the device was fastened around the taller man's wrist. Her lips twisted into a wicked smirk once the demonstration was underway, and she nodded at Sam impressed not only with his readiness to volunteer, but with his answer to Avery's question. Having Sam in her ragtag crew was continuing to prove more and more valuable. 

 "The more lies the more pain." Phoebe confirmed. It wasn't so much a question as it was a mere admission of the facts. A simple yet effective formula.

"That will be enough. I'm not interested in injuring my associate before we get our hands on the bastard it's really for." She faced the eldest Lestrange now. "And how long are these effects projected to last? Hours..?" she trailed, matter of factly, a plan already beginning to form in her mind. "Days?"

Sam

The stranger’s chain barely phased Sam, but he supposed it would do — after all, most humans couldn’t endure the pain he did after he was sick with the plague, repeatedly cut by Medieval healers in attempt to bloodlet the disease, and then changed into the monster he is today. 

“It’ll do,” he shrugged, barely flinching at the affects. He was sure they were beginning to question his humanity, but he hoped they’d keep their mouths shut. If they ended up trying to spill his secrets like dumbass Marius, they’d end up missing and look like victims of the Guardians. At this point in time, Sam wasn’t looking to play with his food.

Avery

“Precisely—“ Avery nodded to the smaller woman. “Naturally I haven’t had the chance to test its prolonged effects, but I imagine there’s a certain threshold after which the heat ceases to increase, or else we would reach a melting point.” 

“The effects of the charm won’t fade, though they don’t seem to last for a particularly long time following each lie.    More of a detecting charm than anything, not unlike the Sneakoscope. If the lie is present it will continue to radiate heat, but you will have to get creative if they choose to remain silent — though I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with that.” 

Avery turned to grab a dagger from the box, returning to his position in front of Mr. Prince once more to gesture for his wrist. He broke the chain with the blade, the cord shrinking back to its original size. “Unicorn horn. Not the most complex, I’d have liked to work out a more functional binding system for the future... but for now it should do the trick.” 

Phoebe

Phoebe nodded as Avery rambled, committing the details to memory. The piece about getting creative was particularly of interest to her, and she shot Sam a pointed look, perhaps a bit too eager. There certainly was something deliciously peculiar about her new ally, something that Phoebe hoped would prove most useful to their future endeavors together. 

 Once Sam was set free and logistics were sorted, Phoebe pursed her lips tightly with a hand positioned at her hip and irises like draggers aimed to pierce. Nothing was ever simply handed over to the middle Maddock. There was always a deal or catch, and everything had its price. She then faced Avery, “I assume something of this value doesn’t come cheap...Name your price.” 

Sam

If he was being honest, Sam was rather bored. Sure, the trinket would be useful for their plan, but Sam didn’t need fancy gadgets to cause pain to their victim when he grew up around blood, torture, and death. But Phoebe seemed excited and interested so he tried to focus on what the stranger was saying. However, he couldn’t help tuning the pair out and becoming lost in his own thoughts. There was too much going on and too little time to process it all.

The talk of money brought him back, blinking a few times before he felt focused. He was prepared to spend on this endeavor, but he had a feeling Mr Lestrange didn’t want money, he had enough of that. 

Avery

“Ah, you always were the quick one—“ Avery set to carefully packaging the cord back into its box with the knife, setting the case free of its various security charms. “Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed this little task. I don’t get asked to work with such... complex parameters... very often. I would be happy to do this without compensation, however...” 

“I’d like to be kept in the loop. While I do have a certain image to maintain so that we can keep making arrangements such as these, I consider myself invested in your cause. I have lost in this tragedy as well, and we will all continue to do so if this is allowed to continue.” 

The allomancer extended the case out to the woman. “Perhaps we can continue to be of assistance to each other. Surely there are contacts that we don’t share... I can keep my ears to the ground if you are willing to do the same.”

Phoebe

“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Lestrange." Phoebe reached to grab the package from Avery, careful in her movements as she wrapped her thin fingers around the new toy. It's not that she didn't trust the allocmancer, she simply wasn't accustomed to such terms. Then again, information wasn't exactly cheap. 

"I believe this is the beginning of a very lucrative partnership." She offered Avery her hand, extended her it towards him. All deals needed to be sealed. "I look forward to continuing business with you."

Sam

Normally Sam would feel awkward at moments like this, however he was at a point where he genuinely didn’t give a fuck. He found himself tuning them out, fiddling with the lip ring he had gotten a few days ago. Probably wasn’t a good idea to play with it, but he wasn’t a human and he was pretty sure the piercing was already healed. 

Only when he heard Miss Maddock say they had a deal did he go back to reality. He shoved a hand into his pocket, waiting for the pair to tie up loose ends before he gave Mr Lestrange’s hand a shake. Sam kept silent, apart from a quiet grunt. He didn’t really need Avery’s toy, he was only there because of Phoebe. If they didn’t get what they wanted, Sam would have to pull strings of his own. 

#;hermione rally #;sam #;phoebe

[deityofdeception]

Queen of the Yikes

So, after watching “Interview with the Vampire” yesterday, I decided to watch “Queen of the Damned” It was....an adventure. Below the cut is a brief synopsis of my adventure.

Me: *intro credits start* This looks like it was made in 2002.

Is this intro supposed to be Lestat?? (It was)

Why is he (Lestat) like this?

Some randome guy:*Southern Drawl* Vampire

Me,about Lestat: *snorts* He would be a rockstar.

I prefer Tom Cruise's Lestat, but he has the emo look now so I guess this is fine. (It was not fine)

He (Lestat) stole this idea from the Theatre Vampires.

Oh, this (the movie) is bad.

Lestat is such a little shit.

Definitely 2002.

Is it Louis??? (It was not. Louis was nowhere to be seen)

Who is Jesse? Is she supposed to be the replacement Claudia?

I reject that?

*Child tries to eat blood tear*  Me: oh.

They're really playing up to the emo demographic, huh?

Ok. I'm confused.

Jesse is...figuring out...what secret organization? What???

Some  Other Random Dude (Turns out this is David):*Southern? Drawl* Jesse.

*David flips through painting after painting of Marius* Me: Marius also likes attention.

Oooh he old

HE MADE LESTAT

WHAT JOURNAL????

Jesse is in danger.

UCK. Bad French again.

The acting is So Bad.

Why does Marius look like Armand but red and with short hair. (He looks nothing like Armand, in reality)

What are these special effects?(terrible)

Lestat*Dying*Also Lestat: *speaks perfectly*

Lestat: "More." Me: Claudia??? Is that you??

Well, now I know where Lestat got all of his drama from for teaching Louis. (It was Marius)

*Lestat monologuing about wanting to be in the light* Me:Oh. Sad boy. He just wants "friends"

He(Lestat) is making a bad decision.

Called it *Lestat has to kill the violin lady*

Lestat is Louis now.

I am 30 minutes in and this is just Not Good

*Secret door opens*Lestat: "Marius?" Me:.... buddy.

Is this about to be the "original" vampire? (It was. Kind of.)

Me:*Sighs* I don't know what I expected.

Lestat: *bites the statue lady and the stone cronch* Me: EW

Of course, they're Egyptian vampires.

OF COURSE DRINKING FROM THE LIVING STATUE MAKES HIM SPECIAL

Jesse: *Finishes reading  the Journal and has Feelings over Lestat* Me: I can relate.

Oh, God. Pigtail buns. (...no context needed)

Jesse: *walking into coven lair* "I had no choice." Me: You definitely do!

She is in DANGEr

*Jesse, getting "hunted" by both men and women vampires* Me: Aaaaand we're back to homoerotic

Quit being a creep Lestat.

*Panicked hissing as Lestat attacks* Me: me too.

Lestat: That was a very good performance." Me: Ope. Well, that's going in the fic.

Lestat, to Marius:"How'd you make it through the 50's in crushed velvet?"Marius: "I slept" me: HA!

Marius: "I made you. I've always known where you are." Me: Yikes.

*throat of other statue ripped out* me: OH

Of course he thinks he can take on the vampire queen 🙄

The Acting is So BAD

Is her (Akasha’s )power belly dancing???

She just ripped out this guys heart and all of these people just look... vaguely concerned

OH HER POWER IS MUCH WORSE.

there they go. setting things on fire again.

Overconfident Lestat is Overconfident.

JESSE keeps putting herself in DANGER

Jesse: "Boo." Lestat:"Boo Back." Me: Oh, please.

Jesse:*literally asking to be turned by Lestat* Me: JESSE

Lestat: Do you trust me? Jesse: Yes. Me:*snorts* That's a mistake.

*Lestat monologues about the beauty and preciousness of mortality* Me: ah

Jesse: *Drags a pin over her Boob, cutting herself. * Me: EW OW NO

*He (Lestat) almost bites her and then doesn't* Me: Louis is that you???

Lestat growls, but it looks he's just yelling, me:"what"

*Get down with the sickness starts playing* WHAT

There is way too much going on.

Me: *quietly* Oh, no, the lip syncing.

JESSE IS IN DANGER AGAIN

This music is Really Emo

*Weird flying vampire fight starts*Me: *a feeling of general confusion and dismay*

Me: I thought this was about that Queen lady- *vampires start bursting into flames* ah, there she is.

WAIT NOW MY BOY IS IN DANGER

*the two fly off into the sky* me: there they go...

OF COURSE LESTAT IS THE QUEEN'S SPECIAL BOY

nails! The nails.

*During a weird rose petal filled bath tub sex scene* Me: Why do they always go for the nipple???

Me: *about the queen*I swear to God if she kills Lestat I'm going to throw something.

??????????? Two plots??????This doesn't make sense. Jesse's mom is a vampire....but it's not her real mom??

And the sun doesn't kill him because........ (They later explain it's because he drank Akasha's blood, which... I mean, I guess?)

Ope. The queen murdered a lot of people.

Lestat: *has feelings for all the dead people.* Me: "Oh.....he's learning."

.....they are going to kill Lestat.

Akasha (the queen) would HATE the Cullens

This is....really only just barely patched together.

Lestat: *Draining Jesse of her blood* Me: he went for the boob again.

I feel like these people are important in the book but I just do not know what is going on at this point.

Lestat is so proud of his new vampire girlfriend.

Is...is that really how they decided to end the movie??

The End , I guess?

#branchlikeatree #ilikethemwings #this was really #truly #a mess #but I had a lot of feelings for lestat

[fangirlmomentsandmytwocents]

Touches by Alina Popescu Cover Reveal

Touches is a collection of four contemporary gay romance short stories following the same cast of characters. They can be read in any order, but to better immerse yourself in the characters’ lives, reading them in order is advised.

Synopsis

Sometimes a single touch is enough to change everything. Physical or emotional, a touch can tilt the world on its axis and shift your entire life. It can lead to hell, or it can lead to paradise, but things will never be the same…

A TOUCH GLAMOUR

Tudor has big plans for New York City.

Ditch his homophobic colleague. See a musical. Definitely check out the go-go boys.

Meeting one Phantom on Grindr wasn’t in the script.

Tudor gets caught up in a whirlwind when his favorite musical character steps off the stage and into his life.

A TOUCH OF PARADISE

Hauled to work in Hawaii, Tudor has little time to enjoy the island paradise.

His obnoxious friend Radu has it much easier, using his free time to set Tudor up, dangling a willing Hawaiian beauty in front of him.

Having been burned by long-distance relationships before, Tudor stubbornly resists Kahoni’s advances.

But can Tudor be worn down enough to enjoy a touch of paradise?

A TOUCH OF KINK

A moody and angry Tudor follows his friend, Radu, to the airport to pick up a client.

Despite Radu’s efforts, he’s still sulking over his boyfriend, Kahoni, not being able to fly over for his birthday.

But the airport only opens up the door to a stream of steamy surprises for Tudor. Will his mood improve?

A TOUCH OF GAY

Radu has always joked with Tudor about his friend’s gay rubbing off on him. Neither of them has taken that joke seriously until Radu’s meltdown and crazy confession: Radu thinks he might be gay.

Despite Radu’s insistence that Tudor’s gayness has helped him figure out his own, there’s more to that story of discovery. Charismatic, sexy, and all around amazing Marius, the man Radu has been crushing on for months, pushed the loud-mouth, offensive Radu into exploring who he truly is.

Figuring out he wasn’t all that straight is the easy part. Getting enough courage to talk to Marius, that’s a whole different challenge, as Radu seems to turn into a stuttering idiot around Marius. Will Radu learn to be confident enough to pursue Marius? Or will Marius act faster and challenge the confused Radu too soon?

Pre-order links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Excerpt

With a noncommittal grunt, Tudor turned around and walked toward the door. Radu could follow or not, he didn’t much care. He went straight to the reception area and asked if there was a place to eat nearby. They were exactly five minutes from Times Square, so he expected fancy, expensive, and not necessarily the best food ever. The guy at reception was their first guardian angel in this city and told them about a nice little diner down the street from the hotel. Tudor moaned his approval and saw the teen swoon a little. He thanked him with an unnecessarily wide grin, just to make him feel good about himself and headed through the door. “So we’re eating greasy diner food?” “Radu, most of your lunches at work are either KFC or McDonalds. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly worried about your health and what goes into your mouth.” “Well, no, but I’d expected you to be… you know?” “Be what?” Tudor said, stopping in his tracks and shoving his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “You know!” Radu insisted, a sleazy grin twisting his face. “All about health and your looks.” Tudor chuckled and shrugged, then continued toward the diner he could now see. He licked his lips in anticipation—diner food was one of his many, many very guilty pleasures—feeling a tingle of delight in his gut. On his last trip to the US, he’d eaten every meal of every day in a diner, until he was so sick of the stuff that he needed a break. A short one, half a day, to be exact, and then he’d started it all over again until he went back home. “No, seriously. I did not expect you to eat anything that was not healthy and tasteless,” Radu whined as they were shown to a booth in the rather large diner. “That’s because you have misconceptions about a lot of things,” Tudor hissed through his teeth. “Healthy food does not mean tasteless. It just means healthy. And while I do work out a lot and generally take care of myself, I pretty much eat anything. I just don’t indulge often in all the crap you gulp down every day.” “Is that because the boys wouldn’t want you anymore?” Radu asked, grinning wolfishly, as if he’d finally gotten an official come-out speech. For a second, Tudor worried if they had some sort of betting game at work, something like how many days it would take for him to either come out or kill Radu. Then he realized they surely did, most likely on both counts. “Well, I do enjoy being attractive, it makes it easier to get whoever I want into my bed. That’s not the only reason why I prefer healthy food though. I’d been on the school’s volleyball team throughout high school and have been taking karate lessons since secondary school. I just got used to eating like that.” “So you’re a black belt and can kill me with your fork or something?” “I don’t need any weapon to kill you, Radu,” Tudor said, lowering his voice and smiling sweetly at him. He was delighted to see Radu’s eyes pop out and his breath hitching. Yeah, fucker, you should be afraid.

About the author

Writer, traveler, and coffee addict, Alina Popescu has been in love with books all her life. She started writing when she was ten and even won awards in local competitions. She has always been drawn to sci-fi, fantasy, and the supernatural realm, which explains her deep love for vampires and is also to blame for this trilogy.

Social Links

Site & Blog: http://alina-popescu.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/authoralinapopescu

Twitter: http://twitter.com/alina_popescu

Instagram: http://instagram.com/alinapopescuwriter

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/alina-popescu

Google+:  https://www.google.com/+AlinaPopescu

Amazon:  http://amazon.com/author/alinapopescu

FGMAMTC 

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Google+ / Pinterest / Goodreads / Tumblr / Bloglovin' / Instagram

var addthis_config = {"data_track_addressbar":true};

#cover reveal #Alina Popescu

[usuallypleasantprince]

Read Playing With Her Heart (Caught Up In Love #4)(7) online free by Lauren Blakely

Playing With Her Heart (Caught Up In Love #4)(7) Author: Lauren Blakely

“Every actress who can sing wants to play Eponine,” I say. “But it’s incredibly hard to pull off the feisty Eponine, along with the love-struck Eponine, and then be dying Eponine on top of it all. Most actresses can handle one of the personas, sometimes two. You’ll see someone who can sing the hell out of “On My Own” or fawn all over Marius and then do a damn good death scene. But they can’t manage the playful side of her. But you, Jill,” I say and I pause because there’s something about her name that sounds too good on my lips, like I want to say it more, and in different ways, and in different places, and in a desperate voice too, and a hot and hungry one, and…fuck me now. She’s looking at me with the glass held in one hand and her lips slightly parted, and she’s hooked on every word. The moment is more intoxicating than it should be and threatens to cloud my cool head in a haze of heat. I tell myself to turn it off for her. It should be business. It should be a compliment.

Besides, I didn’t cast her because she’s f**k-able. I cast her because she’s f**king amazing. I try to keep it on the level as I finish, “You were brilliant. You were stunning. You were everything and more.”

As I say this, her face lights up.... Read online: Read Playing With Her Heart (Caught Up In Love #4)(7) online free by Lauren Blakely #Romance #BillionaireRomance #New-Adult #Young-Adult #Series #fantasy #Vampires #Others #Sci-Fi #Thriller #Horror #Classics #OldList #Mystery #Authors #PlayingWithHerHeart(CaughtUpInLove#4)(7) #70 pages: #Previous #UnfinishedHeroseries #ColoradoMountainseries #Chaosseries #TheSinclairsseries #TheYoungElitesseries #BillionairesandBridesmaidsseries #JustOneDayseries #SinnersonTourseries #AThousandLetters #WastedWords #MyNotSoPerfectLife #Caraval(Caraval#1) #TheSunIsAlsoaStar #Everything,Everything #DevilinSpring(TheRavenels#3) #MarryingWinterborne(TheRavenels#2)

[fangirlmomentsandmytwocents]

Touches by Alina Popescu Cover Reveal

Touches is a collection of four contemporary gay romance short stories following the same cast of characters. They can be read in any order, but to better immerse yourself in the characters’ lives, reading them in order is advised.

Synopsis

Sometimes a single touch is enough to change everything. Physical or emotional, a touch can tilt the world on its axis and shift your entire life. It can lead to hell, or it can lead to paradise, but things will never be the same…

A TOUCH GLAMOUR

Tudor has big plans for New York City.

Ditch his homophobic colleague. See a musical. Definitely check out the go-go boys.

Meeting one Phantom on Grindr wasn’t in the script.

Tudor gets caught up in a whirlwind when his favorite musical character steps off the stage and into his life.

A TOUCH OF PARADISE

Hauled to work in Hawaii, Tudor has little time to enjoy the island paradise.

His obnoxious friend Radu has it much easier, using his free time to set Tudor up, dangling a willing Hawaiian beauty in front of him.

Having been burned by long-distance relationships before, Tudor stubbornly resists Kahoni’s advances.

But can Tudor be worn down enough to enjoy a touch of paradise?

A TOUCH OF KINK

A moody and angry Tudor follows his friend, Radu, to the airport to pick up a client.

Despite Radu’s efforts, he’s still sulking over his boyfriend, Kahoni, not being able to fly over for his birthday.

But the airport only opens up the door to a stream of steamy surprises for Tudor. Will his mood improve?

A TOUCH OF GAY

Radu has always joked with Tudor about his friend’s gay rubbing off on him. Neither of them has taken that joke seriously until Radu’s meltdown and crazy confession: Radu thinks he might be gay.

Despite Radu’s insistence that Tudor’s gayness has helped him figure out his own, there’s more to that story of discovery. Charismatic, sexy, and all around amazing Marius, the man Radu has been crushing on for months, pushed the loud-mouth, offensive Radu into exploring who he truly is.

Figuring out he wasn’t all that straight is the easy part. Getting enough courage to talk to Marius, that’s a whole different challenge, as Radu seems to turn into a stuttering idiot around Marius. Will Radu learn to be confident enough to pursue Marius? Or will Marius act faster and challenge the confused Radu too soon?

Pre-order links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Excerpt

With a noncommittal grunt, Tudor turned around and walked toward the door. Radu could follow or not, he didn’t much care. He went straight to the reception area and asked if there was a place to eat nearby. They were exactly five minutes from Times Square, so he expected fancy, expensive, and not necessarily the best food ever. The guy at reception was their first guardian angel in this city and told them about a nice little diner down the street from the hotel. Tudor moaned his approval and saw the teen swoon a little. He thanked him with an unnecessarily wide grin, just to make him feel good about himself and headed through the door. “So we’re eating greasy diner food?” “Radu, most of your lunches at work are either KFC or McDonalds. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly worried about your health and what goes into your mouth.” “Well, no, but I’d expected you to be… you know?” “Be what?” Tudor said, stopping in his tracks and shoving his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “You know!” Radu insisted, a sleazy grin twisting his face. “All about health and your looks.” Tudor chuckled and shrugged, then continued toward the diner he could now see. He licked his lips in anticipation—diner food was one of his many, many very guilty pleasures—feeling a tingle of delight in his gut. On his last trip to the US, he’d eaten every meal of every day in a diner, until he was so sick of the stuff that he needed a break. A short one, half a day, to be exact, and then he’d started it all over again until he went back home. “No, seriously. I did not expect you to eat anything that was not healthy and tasteless,” Radu whined as they were shown to a booth in the rather large diner. “That’s because you have misconceptions about a lot of things,” Tudor hissed through his teeth. “Healthy food does not mean tasteless. It just means healthy. And while I do work out a lot and generally take care of myself, I pretty much eat anything. I just don’t indulge often in all the crap you gulp down every day.” “Is that because the boys wouldn’t want you anymore?” Radu asked, grinning wolfishly, as if he’d finally gotten an official come-out speech. For a second, Tudor worried if they had some sort of betting game at work, something like how many days it would take for him to either come out or kill Radu. Then he realized they surely did, most likely on both counts. “Well, I do enjoy being attractive, it makes it easier to get whoever I want into my bed. That’s not the only reason why I prefer healthy food though. I’d been on the school’s volleyball team throughout high school and have been taking karate lessons since secondary school. I just got used to eating like that.” “So you’re a black belt and can kill me with your fork or something?” “I don’t need any weapon to kill you, Radu,” Tudor said, lowering his voice and smiling sweetly at him. He was delighted to see Radu’s eyes pop out and his breath hitching. Yeah, fucker, you should be afraid.

About the author

Writer, traveler, and coffee addict, Alina Popescu has been in love with books all her life. She started writing when she was ten and even won awards in local competitions. She has always been drawn to sci-fi, fantasy, and the supernatural realm, which explains her deep love for vampires and is also to blame for this trilogy.

Social Links

Site & Blog: http://alina-popescu.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/authoralinapopescu

Twitter: http://twitter.com/alina_popescu

Instagram: http://instagram.com/alinapopescuwriter

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/alina-popescu

Google+:  https://www.google.com/+AlinaPopescu

Amazon:  http://amazon.com/author/alinapopescu

FGMAMTC 

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Google+ / Pinterest / Goodreads / Tumblr / Bloglovin' / Instagram

var addthis_config = {"data_track_addressbar":true};

#cover reveal #Alina Popescu

[fangirlmomentsandmytwocents]

Touches by Alina Popescu Cover Reveal

Touches is a collection of four contemporary gay romance short stories following the same cast of characters. They can be read in any order, but to better immerse yourself in the characters’ lives, reading them in order is advised.

Synopsis

Sometimes a single touch is enough to change everything. Physical or emotional, a touch can tilt the world on its axis and shift your entire life. It can lead to hell, or it can lead to paradise, but things will never be the same…

A TOUCH GLAMOUR

Tudor has big plans for New York City.

Ditch his homophobic colleague. See a musical. Definitely check out the go-go boys.

Meeting one Phantom on Grindr wasn’t in the script.

Tudor gets caught up in a whirlwind when his favorite musical character steps off the stage and into his life.

A TOUCH OF PARADISE

Hauled to work in Hawaii, Tudor has little time to enjoy the island paradise.

His obnoxious friend Radu has it much easier, using his free time to set Tudor up, dangling a willing Hawaiian beauty in front of him.

Having been burned by long-distance relationships before, Tudor stubbornly resists Kahoni’s advances.

But can Tudor be worn down enough to enjoy a touch of paradise?

A TOUCH OF KINK

A moody and angry Tudor follows his friend, Radu, to the airport to pick up a client.

Despite Radu’s efforts, he’s still sulking over his boyfriend, Kahoni, not being able to fly over for his birthday.

But the airport only opens up the door to a stream of steamy surprises for Tudor. Will his mood improve?

A TOUCH OF GAY

Radu has always joked with Tudor about his friend’s gay rubbing off on him. Neither of them has taken that joke seriously until Radu’s meltdown and crazy confession: Radu thinks he might be gay.

Despite Radu’s insistence that Tudor’s gayness has helped him figure out his own, there’s more to that story of discovery. Charismatic, sexy, and all around amazing Marius, the man Radu has been crushing on for months, pushed the loud-mouth, offensive Radu into exploring who he truly is.

Figuring out he wasn’t all that straight is the easy part. Getting enough courage to talk to Marius, that’s a whole different challenge, as Radu seems to turn into a stuttering idiot around Marius. Will Radu learn to be confident enough to pursue Marius? Or will Marius act faster and challenge the confused Radu too soon?

Pre-order links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B06XPTVXCM

Excerpt

With a noncommittal grunt, Tudor turned around and walked toward the door. Radu could follow or not, he didn’t much care. He went straight to the reception area and asked if there was a place to eat nearby. They were exactly five minutes from Times Square, so he expected fancy, expensive, and not necessarily the best food ever. The guy at reception was their first guardian angel in this city and told them about a nice little diner down the street from the hotel. Tudor moaned his approval and saw the teen swoon a little. He thanked him with an unnecessarily wide grin, just to make him feel good about himself and headed through the door. “So we’re eating greasy diner food?” “Radu, most of your lunches at work are either KFC or McDonalds. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly worried about your health and what goes into your mouth.” “Well, no, but I’d expected you to be… you know?” “Be what?” Tudor said, stopping in his tracks and shoving his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “You know!” Radu insisted, a sleazy grin twisting his face. “All about health and your looks.” Tudor chuckled and shrugged, then continued toward the diner he could now see. He licked his lips in anticipation—diner food was one of his many, many very guilty pleasures—feeling a tingle of delight in his gut. On his last trip to the US, he’d eaten every meal of every day in a diner, until he was so sick of the stuff that he needed a break. A short one, half a day, to be exact, and then he’d started it all over again until he went back home. “No, seriously. I did not expect you to eat anything that was not healthy and tasteless,” Radu whined as they were shown to a booth in the rather large diner. “That’s because you have misconceptions about a lot of things,” Tudor hissed through his teeth. “Healthy food does not mean tasteless. It just means healthy. And while I do work out a lot and generally take care of myself, I pretty much eat anything. I just don’t indulge often in all the crap you gulp down every day.” “Is that because the boys wouldn’t want you anymore?” Radu asked, grinning wolfishly, as if he’d finally gotten an official come-out speech. For a second, Tudor worried if they had some sort of betting game at work, something like how many days it would take for him to either come out or kill Radu. Then he realized they surely did, most likely on both counts. “Well, I do enjoy being attractive, it makes it easier to get whoever I want into my bed. That’s not the only reason why I prefer healthy food though. I’d been on the school’s volleyball team throughout high school and have been taking karate lessons since secondary school. I just got used to eating like that.” “So you’re a black belt and can kill me with your fork or something?” “I don’t need any weapon to kill you, Radu,” Tudor said, lowering his voice and smiling sweetly at him. He was delighted to see Radu’s eyes pop out and his breath hitching. Yeah, fucker, you should be afraid.

About the author

Writer, traveler, and coffee addict, Alina Popescu has been in love with books all her life. She started writing when she was ten and even won awards in local competitions. She has always been drawn to sci-fi, fantasy, and the supernatural realm, which explains her deep love for vampires and is also to blame for this trilogy.

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FGMAMTC 

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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